[This is the first of two entries composed over the last two days.]
Almost 4 weeks since we left home. Christine's mom arrived today with
her sister Dung (pronounced Zung). We went over to pick her up from
the hotel, and there she was all in short sleeves. I was wearing long
sleeves, and so was Christine, because it was a chilly day. Yet the
temperature was the same as the first day we landed. Well, it looks
like we acclimated quickly enough to shift our temperature
norms. Though not nearly as close to the locals who wore jackets or
thick sweaters. How cold is cold? Oh, about 65 degrees.
It's not just the temperature, though. It's the fact that my stomach
no longer has the slightest problem with local street food. Or that I
know where to go to eat this or that local dish (or the yummiest
French Vanilla for $1 per pound, which is my serving size). Or going
to school and back without a map. Or understanding some basic words
(though I cannot pronounce them properly to save my life). Or knowing
basic bus routes (though everyone stares at me for taking the bus
since why the heck would a westerner not pay $2 for a taxi... because
some westerners are El Cheapo Greco like me).
Or recognizing strange street sounds such as metal saws cutting tin
sheets or copper pipes smack in the middle of the sidewalk. Or, better
yet, hearing "Jingle Bells" or "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" from a
greeting-card-like beeper mounted on a popcorn machine on the back of
a bicycle; that's the local version of the ice cream man, which exists
here too in the form of another bicycle with a big ice chest on the
back... you can tell them apart because he plays the Lambada.
I still find this craziness absolutely charming. Probably because I
have yet to be run over by a motorcycle. I've been on a couple, from
Xe Om (motorbike taxis) to riding behind Ong Tai (the old school
teacher) and my students (the younger, wilder crowd). Scary as all
hell until you think of it like a ride on a roller coaster without a
safety strap. Look ma, no hands (because I need to hold my computer
bag)!
Time for short anecdotes...
When Christine had a sore throat, two of my students were kind enough
to take me to a flower shop to buy flowers for her. They drove me to
the shop, and did the bargaining ($0.66 total for 3 roses) too. How
can I not love my class?!
Last Saturday, we went to Ong Tai's for dinner, where we spent some
time with him and his granddaughter. Christine, who is usually the
sensitive one while I am the total baboon of the pair, put her foot in
her mouth when she told the girl how lucky she was that her
grandfathers were both alive because Christine's had passed away while
she was young. Well, the girl had lost her dad a year ago (and we knew
it). Anyway, because her dad died from lung cancer, the girl waved the
smoke from her grandpa's cigarette away as soon as he lit up. That so
much reminded me of littler me, shooing my parents away when they
smoked too. I like that girl! Not just for the anti-smoking side of
her, but because she is very eager to use her English. Sure, she made
mistakes, but she could express her thoughts fluently. We all enjoyed
this short evening together. Oh, and Ong Tai had some French cheese
stashed away and so I had the only cheese I've had in Vietnam! Woo
hoo! No feta though.
We also went to the American Club for lunch, invited by its manager
John. John wanted Christine's help to set up a website for a local
cultural volunteer organization and in return we got a free lunch (a
hamburger, what else, but with Australian beef) But the real treat was
Alf... Alf defies description. White South African, enormously tall,
still fit, age at least 70, missing two fingers, wearing a Green Beret
earned by having faught in Nigeria and elsewhere in Africa. "I can't
stand those blasted honkers, mon [man]. Why do they keep doing it?
Like those blackie cabbies in Johannesburg. Honk, honk! Ya better be
careful if ya find yourself in those parts, mind ya. They'll knife ya
right there if they want to. It's not safe any more after the blacks
took over the place." That's Alf in a nutshell; oh, and he probably
went through two cigarettes while saying the above.
The strangest thing about the American Club was not Alf, nor John
(another jovial giant of a man who worked the pipeline in Alaska for
20 years and had a goat farm to my personal delight), nor the menu
prices ($5 for a burger which is grand theft in these parts), but the
very fact that we were there. You see, the Vietnamese government gave
the land to the US, and so they have no jurisdiction of what is going
on within those four walls (and large courtyard). Accordingly, no
Vietnamese can come within (except for the employees because, after
all, cheap labor to earn dollars is always welcome). So we were in
some form of a distant echo from the Saigon of 1975 and the US embassy
compound where only we could go in... very, very eerie.
Another strange sight was this Italian tourist who sat down next to us
at another restaurant, and asked for Christine's help to order. Poor
English yet the usual Mediterranean charm (like me, hee, hee). Big
guy, he reminded us of Alfredo from Cinema Paradiso.
And on yet another field trip between home and school, we stopped by
Vietnam's Pixar (Hung's studio). They are working on a feature-length
film (due December in Vietnam time, which means next March). I'm
telling ya: these guys are talented and hard-working. And you
will get to see their movie sooner or later. They have
already produced some superb animation; I saw a couple of clips done
by an animator on his own time goofing around and I was blown
away. Their hardware and software are up-to-date, but they are
definitely behind the technology curve in know-how. Yet, they will
catch up: Honda did, and look where the US car industry is now (or
most other US manufacturing to be honest). Talk about a huge business
opportunity getting to be their world-wide distributor! But that ain't
my line of work so I'll enjoy seeing them succeed from the sidelines.
The class is almost over. One more lecture to go, a final to put
together, and three assignments and a final to grade. It's been
extremely demanding, more so than my regular job (well, equally so if
I compare it to startup release cycles). But, oh so rewarding! My
class is a wonderful group, and I am delighted I had the opportunity
to share some of my knowledge. Some will go to the US and continue
their Masters at UHCL (University of Houston Clear Lake), some won't
make it. Yet both groups learned a lot over this past month. Not just
coursework, mind you, but the whole experience of teaching in a US
style. To be fair, what they got was a mix of a US startup and a US
classroom: the assignments were as intense as tight release cycles,
yet the grading was on a curve :-)
What's most gratifying is the sense of being part of a legacy. This
was the very first year of this program. So everything was brand new:
the syllabus, the assignments, the schedule, everything. It was very
challenging to start from nothing and build it all, but the sense of
contribution is also tremendous. This program will attract more
students next year, and eventually lead into bringing in US-educated
Vietnamese to teach. Longer-term, the material covered will seep back
into the regular university curriculum so that all students at the top
Vietnamese technical university will learn about JavaOS, Unix and
Windows in their Operating System class instead of MS-DOS. And it all
starts with 8 bright students in our classroom. The motivation to come
back and teach again next year is mighty high. Yes, the offer is on
the table so we're thinking about it seriously... but in the end, what
really matters is whether I helped the students. So I won't make up my
mind until I get back my course evaluations and figure out whether
they had as good a time as I did.
The funnest thing is that I'll miss my students. I was too busy to get
to know them (and so were they), yet I've developed an intense
interest in their future. In a way, they remind me of me when I was
younger. Eager to learn more, eager to go to the US and study, really
dependent on the generosity of US schools, appreciating the value of a
good education (by the way, the program in Hanoi is quite expensive
for most of them... about $2300; correcting for the cost of living,
that's $20k-$50k). Anyway, I look forward to visiting whoever makes it
to UHCL and having our first chance to hang out and chat outside a
classroom environment in Houston.
I forgot another odd sight. You know how in the US there are these
women-only gyms for self-conscious women to exercise without men
staring at them (go figure... but anyway)? Well, there ain't such
thing in Vietnam. Moreover, there is a square by the lake where there
is a free, open-air aerobics class in the evening! Yup, right on the
square, next to the fumes of the bikes and cars, ladies of all sizes
and shapes jump up and down listening to American disco. I just
couldn't help grabbing an ice cream cone and watching them. (I get it
now... it's because of men like me that women-only gyms are built.)
Actually, Christine and I watched together --- it was not only odd,
but it looked like they were having a jolly good time! We agreed that
we'll bring our sisters to teach a class or two on this square.
After many a visit to the Hoa Sua restaurant and its cafe, I realized
something today: the only Vietnamese customers I've seen
there have been (a) locals taken out by westerners, (b) adopted
Vietnamese children with their westerners parents, (c) young
Vietnamese women with much older westerner men (it looks even shadier
than it sounds). Oh, there's Christine too. But I guess we fall under
group (c) :-)
And, finally, I'm very proud of my wife. She came as a visitor with no
specific agenda. She could have been just a trophy wife or a tourist
if she wanted. And she did a bit of that too, but much, much more. She
helped my class revise their essays for their UHCL applications, she
prepared and gave a talk on life in the US, she helped John with the
website, she helped her dwarf friend Phu to write his autobiography (a
short one, no pun intended), revised an essay of my sister's via
email. And got multiple lovely outfits made for herself, which I
really appreciate since it's much wiser to have such outfits made here
for a fraction of the cost than in the States. Cost-conscious (ok,
cheap), and with a good heart... how lucky am I to have her!
Oh, I forgot: I got my Vietnamese pyjamas! Or rather, it was a present
from my students (they figured out the country bumkin in me very
quickly). I think next time I pick asparagus in my neighbor's patch
I'll wear my pyjamas and my conical hat. He was a Vietnam vet, so I'm
sure he'll appreciate the reminder. Time for my sensitivity lesson
with Christine.