[Tim]
Some Viet friends went with us this evening (by motorbike) down to Hoi An.
Read online about the Mid Autumn Festival in this beautiful city.
View the slideshow below (if you're seeing this via email update, you will need to click to the blog itself to see any videos or embedded slideshows).
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Lion/Dragon Dance on the Street
[Daniel]
A few days ago our friends across the street had a party and invited us. A Vietnamese party. There's a difference. It wasn't bad, but for me it was just really loud drumming. Maybe I should explain what it was like. The family hired a group of dragon dancers to set up their performance on the street. Then they practiced for ten minutes. Finally the dance started.
It was pretty cool but it got long after a while.The constant clashing of symbols and the loud drum made it hard to like it. The dance was people inside lion costumes fighting. I did not understand the way they decided to do it. They kept on repeating the same tricks and there were two people with masks on just standing in the dance for no apparent reason. Lots of things I didn't understand.
A few days ago our friends across the street had a party and invited us. A Vietnamese party. There's a difference. It wasn't bad, but for me it was just really loud drumming. Maybe I should explain what it was like. The family hired a group of dragon dancers to set up their performance on the street. Then they practiced for ten minutes. Finally the dance started.
It was pretty cool but it got long after a while.The constant clashing of symbols and the loud drum made it hard to like it. The dance was people inside lion costumes fighting. I did not understand the way they decided to do it. They kept on repeating the same tricks and there were two people with masks on just standing in the dance for no apparent reason. Lots of things I didn't understand.
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Here are some more pictures |
But my negativity vanished once they passed out the treats. Yes! Um, Never mind, the treats tasted terrible. At the end the neighborhood boys did their own dance and went from house to house getting candy for their dance. That was pretty cool. I may have expressed negative feelings about the party but over all it was a good night.
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| snack time! |
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| dragon goes inside the house to give it good luck |
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lion dancing |
And an embedded video (if you're viewing in email, click to the blog itself)
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
Soldiers
I hope to write more about this later, but my yesterday left me with a flavor of what it is to be the winner and the loser in a civil war.
I met two men, each 65 years old. Both helped me yesterday. Both were soldiers in the Viet civil war. I didn't get a picture of either of them to put on the blog, but let me describe them to you.
One helped me when my motorbike was broken down on a street corner. It would start and idle, but if I gave it any gas at all it would die. I had an hour before I had to be at an appointment downtown, but I didn't know of a nearby mechanic shop. A man sitting on his motorcycle saw my distress and motioned for me to let it idle for a while without killing it. He asked me a "Where you fron?" and when I replied that I am an American (Tôi là người Mỹ) he smiled and gave a thumbs-up. He explained that he was in the Viet army on the side that the Americans chose to support. He worked with a group of US Green Berets and was in Saigon when it was liberated by the communists in '75. The GIs left, but he stayed in a country that would never again be kind to him in terms of employment and opportunity.
The former soldier used his motorbike to push mine to the neighborhood mechanic's corner. (I balance my bike, he puts a foot on my rear bumper and accelerates his bike, and away we ride.) The neighborhood mechanic had a 6' tent for shade and a compressor and toolbox to indicate his trade. He had my engine taken apart and was cleaning it in a matter of minutes, and after 25 minutes he and I shook hands and I gave him the full $4.50 he asked for. My Viet friends say I could have negotiated him down to $3.00, but I know I was in no position to argue, as he saved my bacon with the repair work he did. I'm grateful.
The second former soldier I met yesterday helped me, but indirectly. He is the director of one of the departments of the University, and he has his diplomas and credentials on display in his office ... next to his pictures and awards for military service in the People's Liberation Armed Forces. His help to me is in setting me up with an evening class to teach, starting next week. (The University department that hired me tells me that they will be starting my classes soon, but I won't actually believe that until they give me a schedule and classes to teach.) This second soldier was on the side that won back in 1975. His credentials as a soldier are on par with his doctoral degree, or at least they are displayed in the same case in his expansive office.
The first soldier is one of thousands of motorbike drivers in the city. I've met several of them, and one of the first Xe Om drivers I rode with is always reading at his corner when I go by. His English is fluent and he reads way more than I do, but his employment is bottom-shelf as a driver of the occasional customer wanting transport by motorbike. I don't know for sure if he's a former soldier, but it fits the description. I'd be surprised if I learned that my literate corner Xe Om driver wasn't, in fact, a former soldier of the side that lost in 1975.
The second soldier was a comrade-in-arms with the cadre of men who have led this nation for the last 40 years. He is a capable leader and well known and well respected, and some of the people in his social circle still wear their green uniforms to work, decorated with 3-4 stars on the shoulders.
It's better to be on the side that wins. Just sayin'.
Photos from today's Ceremony of Start-of-School:
Video:
I met two men, each 65 years old. Both helped me yesterday. Both were soldiers in the Viet civil war. I didn't get a picture of either of them to put on the blog, but let me describe them to you.
One helped me when my motorbike was broken down on a street corner. It would start and idle, but if I gave it any gas at all it would die. I had an hour before I had to be at an appointment downtown, but I didn't know of a nearby mechanic shop. A man sitting on his motorcycle saw my distress and motioned for me to let it idle for a while without killing it. He asked me a "Where you fron?" and when I replied that I am an American (Tôi là người Mỹ) he smiled and gave a thumbs-up. He explained that he was in the Viet army on the side that the Americans chose to support. He worked with a group of US Green Berets and was in Saigon when it was liberated by the communists in '75. The GIs left, but he stayed in a country that would never again be kind to him in terms of employment and opportunity.
The former soldier used his motorbike to push mine to the neighborhood mechanic's corner. (I balance my bike, he puts a foot on my rear bumper and accelerates his bike, and away we ride.) The neighborhood mechanic had a 6' tent for shade and a compressor and toolbox to indicate his trade. He had my engine taken apart and was cleaning it in a matter of minutes, and after 25 minutes he and I shook hands and I gave him the full $4.50 he asked for. My Viet friends say I could have negotiated him down to $3.00, but I know I was in no position to argue, as he saved my bacon with the repair work he did. I'm grateful.
The second former soldier I met yesterday helped me, but indirectly. He is the director of one of the departments of the University, and he has his diplomas and credentials on display in his office ... next to his pictures and awards for military service in the People's Liberation Armed Forces. His help to me is in setting me up with an evening class to teach, starting next week. (The University department that hired me tells me that they will be starting my classes soon, but I won't actually believe that until they give me a schedule and classes to teach.) This second soldier was on the side that won back in 1975. His credentials as a soldier are on par with his doctoral degree, or at least they are displayed in the same case in his expansive office.
The first soldier is one of thousands of motorbike drivers in the city. I've met several of them, and one of the first Xe Om drivers I rode with is always reading at his corner when I go by. His English is fluent and he reads way more than I do, but his employment is bottom-shelf as a driver of the occasional customer wanting transport by motorbike. I don't know for sure if he's a former soldier, but it fits the description. I'd be surprised if I learned that my literate corner Xe Om driver wasn't, in fact, a former soldier of the side that lost in 1975.
The second soldier was a comrade-in-arms with the cadre of men who have led this nation for the last 40 years. He is a capable leader and well known and well respected, and some of the people in his social circle still wear their green uniforms to work, decorated with 3-4 stars on the shoulders.
It's better to be on the side that wins. Just sayin'.
Photos from today's Ceremony of Start-of-School:
Video:
Other Random Photos:
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| Some friends over for a fast game of NERTZ and then guitar-led singing up on the roof. |
Monday, September 21, 2015
The Boys
An update on my guys: The boys are both on-the-mend, I think. Since roughly the beginning of September we've been in and out of tummy troubles and culture shock. Sometimes it's hard to tell where one of those ends and the other begins. Culture shock is not limited to "OMG they do THAT here???" reactions. It's more like a trauma that can affect you in a variety of unanticipated ways, and depression/low-energy was especially worrisome for us with the boys. Compound that with even a little bit of physical distress and you've got a sick kiddo.
Today they seem much improved over a week ago or even several days ago. Their energy is back up, and their outlook on living abroad is brighter.
Here are some snippets of blogposts from them, and then random pictures that tell more stories.
[Michael]
The past few weeks were full of shells. It turns out that Da Nang beach is full of live starfish, white bait, mud gudgeons, and countless cool shells.
This is my current shell collection:
Unfortunately, most of the shells had little dead creatures inside, and so we soaked them all in bleach water. Some of my favorite shells were ruined. We found a lot of the shells in the aftermath of the storm, and also we found about 10 puffer fish, some of which were still half puffed up! There are a ton of clam shells, about as common as mussels on Beverley Beach in Oregon.
[Daniel]
Hello! Today we did so much adventures! Such as getting out of bed.... uh, too common, it's 7:00 in the morning. In that case I'll tell about thing that happened two weeks ago. Michael and I were at a several-days rivalry with chili seeds. Since I am a very competitive person, I grabbed a handful of chili seeds and rubbed my hands in the oil than I stuffed it in his mouth. Funny prank, huh? At this point I realized this was a bad idea. Mom and dad were both mad.
Somehow, I got the chili oil on my face. And I mean my lips ... and my eyes. Some of you might know that I am extremely sensitive to spicy. Yeah, it hurt. We had to walk our bikes home that night 'cause I was completely blind. Anna led me by the hand and my dad took my bike.
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| Michael being zipped into the Hamster Ball. |
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| Daniel being inflated and sealed. |
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| Hamster Ball meets Pacific Ocean. |
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| Youth group outing to the beach. Add Hamster Ball for instant teen approval. |
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| Group photo on youth group scavenger hunt. Duck lips voluntary. |
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| 50,000 VND for a chilled coconut. Shells are free if you can find them. |
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| Beach combing for shells. And supersized lightbulbs. |
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| The chef, Lan, rocks it once again in our kitchen. We are GRATEFUL! |
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Our local tailor shop, posing with a Tim figurine.
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| Game night with the staff of Vision Cafe. |
Friday, September 18, 2015
Happy Birthday to Me!
Hi friends, Janet here.
You don't have to know me for very long (longer or shorter depending on how close to September 15th we met...) to know that I love my birthday more than most people my age. Shoot, I'd hold my birthday enthusiasm up to any kid you know and come out on top. Your own personal holiday? What's not to love? So although it may seem childish to want to fill you in on what I've done for my birthday this year, that's exactly what I'm going to do.
The 15th was last Tuesday, and you may remember that on Monday we posted about the tropical storm that blew through here. Those mighty winds and torrential rains swept all the heat and stickiness out of the air, so I had the much-appreciated pleasure of not sweating on my birthday! Tuesday was not as stormy, but we had rain on and off and a delightful breeze, so I went through the whole day not feeling hot. I'll take that as a birthday present from God!
We had been planning to visit one of the high-end resorts around here and just see what we could find to do/eat/drink, but because of the weather, that plan is on hold. We might get to do that tomorrow morning, and my birthday celebrating won't be officially over until we have, but on my birthday instead of relaxing on a beach, we went oven shopping! We'd been deliberating about whether or not we would try to do without an oven while we're here, but we came into unity about it when I mentioned to Tim that we wouldn't be able to make Christmas pies without one. He was willing to take a pass on cake and hold off on cookies; he was ready to say no to home-baked pizza, but it turns out that "pie" was the magic word. So we went to an appliance shop and laid out 1.3 million for the largest oven we could find. It's got a rotisserie fork I'll enjoy figuring out, and a convection setting, but it's barely large enough to hold a 9x13 pan. That's okay, though, because I don't have a 9x13 pan!
All this talk about ovens leads me to my best birthday present of all: a chef! I am super excited about this one. Her name is Lan, and she recently moved back to Da Nang after living in Italy for 8 years. Her husband is Italian, and not only has Lan been trained as a chef in Italy and worked in restaurants there, she's also been trained by her Italian mother-in-law to cook homestyle Italian food. Never in my wildest imaginings would I have thought I would come to Vietnam to have a Vietnamese woman come over and fill my fridge with Italian food. I have definitely dreamed of having a chef at work in my kitchen, but this whole thing takes on an even more dreamlike quality when you make it an Asian chef making Italian food. I'm just tickled about the whole thing. She'll be coming twice a week, at least for now, and she cooks for about 3 hours and makes about 3 complete meals. I complimented her on how much she was able to get done in that amount of time, and she just laughed and said in the restaurant she would have done much more. She's planning to open a restaurant here, so we don't know how long she'll be available to us, but for now I am just loving that we get to do this. The fact that she started on my birthday is the cherry on top. We got to sit down to a lovely pork roast with rosemary potatoes, asparagus bundles wrapped in ham, and a very tasty tossed salad. (I know you're all dying to know but are afraid to ask: she charges us $10 plus ingredients.)
After oven shopping and before dining, I got to have a free haircut from an American girl who's part of a team that's passing through. It just feels nice to have a haircut on your birthday, right? And after lunch Michael took me out for bubble tea. We recently discovered a place that has dophin-shaped jellies, along with hearts and butterflies, and if that doesn't sound like magical birthday food, I don't know what does. It was pouring rain most of the time we were there, and we enjoyed watching the rain and the traffic from the second floor balcony.
The key to living your birthday to the fullest is to take every good thing that happens in the surrounding days as being a birthday present. Using that method, our landlord gave me a hot water heater in my bathroom for my birthday! Until now we've had showers that were whatever temperature the water happened to be at the time. Our water is in a tank on the roof, and so when the weather is hot and sunny, the shower you take in the middle of the day is the warmest. Not hot, but a pleasantly warm temperature. The morning shower was cooler, but not unbearable. We were perfectly satisfied with this method at first, but as soon as the weather turned a little cooler and we didn't have the sun beating down on the water tank, our morning showers especially got a little nippy! Now we have water heaters in each bathroom, and we can choose to take whatever temperature is coming out naturally, or add some hot to it. My first hot shower in over a month was a happy birthday moment. I'm sure I didn't turn it as hot as I would have in the States, but it was nice to be able to choose the temperature.
Also this week we hired a girl to help us clean once a week. Our neighbor had just hired her, but she didn't want her every day. She "persuaded" us to hire her for one day a week so we could keep her fully employed and happy in the neighborhood. It was a humbling experience for me. I mean, I love the idea of someone else doing my cleaning, but it's still a little embarrassing knowing they're seeing all your dirt--yes, there was a bit of a gasp when she swept out what was under the couch. I don't have a high standard in the US, but I don't exactly know what the standard is here, so I don't know what she's thinking as she goes through each of our rooms. I do know that we're supposed to be doing our floors every day, and we definitely don't. Like all Asian countries I know about, there's an expectation here that you will remove your shoes upon entering any house. However, unlike China, it's not the host's responsibility to provide slippers for you, so every floor is supposed to be barefoot clean at all times. That's taking some getting used to since we do have 4 flights of stairs to keep swept! I swallowed my pride and remembered that it's birthday week and accepted all of the cleaning as a birthday present. I really am grateful for the help. So are the kids!
We're almost to the point where we'll measure our time here in months instead of weeks. It's like when you have a newborn baby: at first, you know his age in hours. Then days. The first week seems like a lifetime (I guess it is the baby's lifetime!), but you put one feeding after another and somehow make it to week two. You finally start to pick up some momentum as soon as you've hit the one month mark. We're at the end of our 5th week in our house, our 6th in Vietnam, and pretty soon when people ask us how long we've been here, we'll be saying "Two months." That feels good. Life isn't as hard; things aren't as strange; we're feeling more rested. We definitely still feel the newness of this change we've made, but we don't feel so clumsy or like our brains are exploding. Thank you all for your prayers and for cheering us on!
You don't have to know me for very long (longer or shorter depending on how close to September 15th we met...) to know that I love my birthday more than most people my age. Shoot, I'd hold my birthday enthusiasm up to any kid you know and come out on top. Your own personal holiday? What's not to love? So although it may seem childish to want to fill you in on what I've done for my birthday this year, that's exactly what I'm going to do.
The 15th was last Tuesday, and you may remember that on Monday we posted about the tropical storm that blew through here. Those mighty winds and torrential rains swept all the heat and stickiness out of the air, so I had the much-appreciated pleasure of not sweating on my birthday! Tuesday was not as stormy, but we had rain on and off and a delightful breeze, so I went through the whole day not feeling hot. I'll take that as a birthday present from God!
We had been planning to visit one of the high-end resorts around here and just see what we could find to do/eat/drink, but because of the weather, that plan is on hold. We might get to do that tomorrow morning, and my birthday celebrating won't be officially over until we have, but on my birthday instead of relaxing on a beach, we went oven shopping! We'd been deliberating about whether or not we would try to do without an oven while we're here, but we came into unity about it when I mentioned to Tim that we wouldn't be able to make Christmas pies without one. He was willing to take a pass on cake and hold off on cookies; he was ready to say no to home-baked pizza, but it turns out that "pie" was the magic word. So we went to an appliance shop and laid out 1.3 million for the largest oven we could find. It's got a rotisserie fork I'll enjoy figuring out, and a convection setting, but it's barely large enough to hold a 9x13 pan. That's okay, though, because I don't have a 9x13 pan!
All this talk about ovens leads me to my best birthday present of all: a chef! I am super excited about this one. Her name is Lan, and she recently moved back to Da Nang after living in Italy for 8 years. Her husband is Italian, and not only has Lan been trained as a chef in Italy and worked in restaurants there, she's also been trained by her Italian mother-in-law to cook homestyle Italian food. Never in my wildest imaginings would I have thought I would come to Vietnam to have a Vietnamese woman come over and fill my fridge with Italian food. I have definitely dreamed of having a chef at work in my kitchen, but this whole thing takes on an even more dreamlike quality when you make it an Asian chef making Italian food. I'm just tickled about the whole thing. She'll be coming twice a week, at least for now, and she cooks for about 3 hours and makes about 3 complete meals. I complimented her on how much she was able to get done in that amount of time, and she just laughed and said in the restaurant she would have done much more. She's planning to open a restaurant here, so we don't know how long she'll be available to us, but for now I am just loving that we get to do this. The fact that she started on my birthday is the cherry on top. We got to sit down to a lovely pork roast with rosemary potatoes, asparagus bundles wrapped in ham, and a very tasty tossed salad. (I know you're all dying to know but are afraid to ask: she charges us $10 plus ingredients.)
After oven shopping and before dining, I got to have a free haircut from an American girl who's part of a team that's passing through. It just feels nice to have a haircut on your birthday, right? And after lunch Michael took me out for bubble tea. We recently discovered a place that has dophin-shaped jellies, along with hearts and butterflies, and if that doesn't sound like magical birthday food, I don't know what does. It was pouring rain most of the time we were there, and we enjoyed watching the rain and the traffic from the second floor balcony.
The key to living your birthday to the fullest is to take every good thing that happens in the surrounding days as being a birthday present. Using that method, our landlord gave me a hot water heater in my bathroom for my birthday! Until now we've had showers that were whatever temperature the water happened to be at the time. Our water is in a tank on the roof, and so when the weather is hot and sunny, the shower you take in the middle of the day is the warmest. Not hot, but a pleasantly warm temperature. The morning shower was cooler, but not unbearable. We were perfectly satisfied with this method at first, but as soon as the weather turned a little cooler and we didn't have the sun beating down on the water tank, our morning showers especially got a little nippy! Now we have water heaters in each bathroom, and we can choose to take whatever temperature is coming out naturally, or add some hot to it. My first hot shower in over a month was a happy birthday moment. I'm sure I didn't turn it as hot as I would have in the States, but it was nice to be able to choose the temperature.
Also this week we hired a girl to help us clean once a week. Our neighbor had just hired her, but she didn't want her every day. She "persuaded" us to hire her for one day a week so we could keep her fully employed and happy in the neighborhood. It was a humbling experience for me. I mean, I love the idea of someone else doing my cleaning, but it's still a little embarrassing knowing they're seeing all your dirt--yes, there was a bit of a gasp when she swept out what was under the couch. I don't have a high standard in the US, but I don't exactly know what the standard is here, so I don't know what she's thinking as she goes through each of our rooms. I do know that we're supposed to be doing our floors every day, and we definitely don't. Like all Asian countries I know about, there's an expectation here that you will remove your shoes upon entering any house. However, unlike China, it's not the host's responsibility to provide slippers for you, so every floor is supposed to be barefoot clean at all times. That's taking some getting used to since we do have 4 flights of stairs to keep swept! I swallowed my pride and remembered that it's birthday week and accepted all of the cleaning as a birthday present. I really am grateful for the help. So are the kids!
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| This is my neighbor, Thu. She's a high school teacher, and would you believe the beautiful dress she's wearing is her school uniform? |
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| Birthday Mochi Sweets These are the chocolate creams of Asia--delicious chewy bundles with fruity or chocolaty fillings. |
Monday, September 14, 2015
Cool Rainings
[Janet]
Hi friends!
This morning a miracle happened. We turned off our A/C, opened all our windows, and we are enjoying fresh air throughout the house. It feels very strange to have the same temperature in every room. After a month of slinking from air-conditioned room to air-conditioned room, tightly closing doors behind us, I feel like someone coming out of quarantine to have all the bedroom doors and windows flung open.
So what happened to make all this possible? It's raining. We've had some afternoon rains that were wonderful for cooling off an already hot day, but this is the first time we've woken up to rain that had been falling steadily for some time. That was about 6:30 this morning. It's now noon, and it's still raining. It stopped for brief moments this morning, and we considered going out and accomplishing something--even talked about going out on our bikes and just risking another downpour--but each time, before we could finish the conversation about what we should go and do, it started pouring again. It's one thing to venture out in a break in the weather and then get caught in something, but it's another to deliberately go out in search of a taxi in pouring down rain and go somewhere that you don't actually need to go at that precise time. So we're still home.
Our choice was validated when our neighbor across the street came over and told us that school has been cancelled today and tomorrow because of the storm that's coming through. Whoa. School cancelled because of rain? In advance? Ok, I guess we're right to turn on Pride and Prejudice and call ourselves "rained in!" Another neighbor texted us to say that Vietnam experiences 10 storms a year, and this is the third one. Does that mean 7 more by the end of the calendar year? Or by the end of the lunar year in February? We don't know, but the kids are excited about the flooded streets.
We've been home A LOT lately. At least, the kids and I have been. Last week we all took a turn being sick, so sometimes I was home against my will being nurse, and other times I was the one grateful to be home and shut in to my dim and cool bedroom. When we're home in the evenings, we are the "Tonight Show." Our house is on the end of the block, which is great for air and light, but it also means that more of our rooms are visible to our neighbors. When we first moved in, we had adults and kids alike standing just a couple feet from our windows, watching, but now it's pretty much just the 6-12 year old boys who openly watch us. When we're on the 2nd or 3rd floors we can feel somewhat removed from it (though I do wave to my across the street neighbors when we're both in our second floor living areas), but we know that if we go down to the first floor between 5:00-8:00 in the evening, we are turning on the show for the neighborhood boys. Sometimes we invite them in for card games and candy, sometimes we send Daniel out to play street soccer, and sometimes we just aren't up for interaction and we alternate between ignoring them and asking them to go home. They do all disappear when it's time for dinner at their houses, and then they usually come back again for an hour or so before bedtime.
Today I got a hint about what kinds of information our neighbors have learned about us. I'm sorry to have to admit it, but we've been eating quite a lot of instant noodles lately. They're just so darned convenient! We have one of those bottled water dispensers that can serve you hot or cold water, so we don't even have to heat water in the electric teapot when we want them. I haven't been doing much cooking, so at all times of the day Tim and the kids are helping themselves to instant noodles. Well, the neighbors across the street are a mom and son and her parents, and we've been helping the son with his English homework. The grandmother occasionally gives us bananas or something like that as a thank you. Today we were given 5 packages of instant noodles. The kind Daniel has been requesting. I joked with the kids that they had noticed how many instant noodles we're eating, but then when I reached up to put them in the cupboard (the cupboard directly across from the window facing their house) and realized that just yesterday we had used up our last package, I felt like it was perhaps more than a joke--that they really had noticed that we'd run out and were happy to supply us with more. I don't even know if I'm serious to wonder whether the instant noodles they gave us have to do with my empty cupboard space where noodles usually go--it's just too weird. I am daily thankful that we are welcome oddities in this nation, and not looked at with fear or suspicion. It's great to be here.
Hi friends!
This morning a miracle happened. We turned off our A/C, opened all our windows, and we are enjoying fresh air throughout the house. It feels very strange to have the same temperature in every room. After a month of slinking from air-conditioned room to air-conditioned room, tightly closing doors behind us, I feel like someone coming out of quarantine to have all the bedroom doors and windows flung open.
So what happened to make all this possible? It's raining. We've had some afternoon rains that were wonderful for cooling off an already hot day, but this is the first time we've woken up to rain that had been falling steadily for some time. That was about 6:30 this morning. It's now noon, and it's still raining. It stopped for brief moments this morning, and we considered going out and accomplishing something--even talked about going out on our bikes and just risking another downpour--but each time, before we could finish the conversation about what we should go and do, it started pouring again. It's one thing to venture out in a break in the weather and then get caught in something, but it's another to deliberately go out in search of a taxi in pouring down rain and go somewhere that you don't actually need to go at that precise time. So we're still home.
Our choice was validated when our neighbor across the street came over and told us that school has been cancelled today and tomorrow because of the storm that's coming through. Whoa. School cancelled because of rain? In advance? Ok, I guess we're right to turn on Pride and Prejudice and call ourselves "rained in!" Another neighbor texted us to say that Vietnam experiences 10 storms a year, and this is the third one. Does that mean 7 more by the end of the calendar year? Or by the end of the lunar year in February? We don't know, but the kids are excited about the flooded streets.
We've been home A LOT lately. At least, the kids and I have been. Last week we all took a turn being sick, so sometimes I was home against my will being nurse, and other times I was the one grateful to be home and shut in to my dim and cool bedroom. When we're home in the evenings, we are the "Tonight Show." Our house is on the end of the block, which is great for air and light, but it also means that more of our rooms are visible to our neighbors. When we first moved in, we had adults and kids alike standing just a couple feet from our windows, watching, but now it's pretty much just the 6-12 year old boys who openly watch us. When we're on the 2nd or 3rd floors we can feel somewhat removed from it (though I do wave to my across the street neighbors when we're both in our second floor living areas), but we know that if we go down to the first floor between 5:00-8:00 in the evening, we are turning on the show for the neighborhood boys. Sometimes we invite them in for card games and candy, sometimes we send Daniel out to play street soccer, and sometimes we just aren't up for interaction and we alternate between ignoring them and asking them to go home. They do all disappear when it's time for dinner at their houses, and then they usually come back again for an hour or so before bedtime.
Today I got a hint about what kinds of information our neighbors have learned about us. I'm sorry to have to admit it, but we've been eating quite a lot of instant noodles lately. They're just so darned convenient! We have one of those bottled water dispensers that can serve you hot or cold water, so we don't even have to heat water in the electric teapot when we want them. I haven't been doing much cooking, so at all times of the day Tim and the kids are helping themselves to instant noodles. Well, the neighbors across the street are a mom and son and her parents, and we've been helping the son with his English homework. The grandmother occasionally gives us bananas or something like that as a thank you. Today we were given 5 packages of instant noodles. The kind Daniel has been requesting. I joked with the kids that they had noticed how many instant noodles we're eating, but then when I reached up to put them in the cupboard (the cupboard directly across from the window facing their house) and realized that just yesterday we had used up our last package, I felt like it was perhaps more than a joke--that they really had noticed that we'd run out and were happy to supply us with more. I don't even know if I'm serious to wonder whether the instant noodles they gave us have to do with my empty cupboard space where noodles usually go--it's just too weird. I am daily thankful that we are welcome oddities in this nation, and not looked at with fear or suspicion. It's great to be here.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Videos & Email Feed
[Tim]
In yesterday's blog post I had embedded two videos, but if you're subscribed via email they didn't come to you, and you may not know that you can see the videos by clicking the link to visit the actual blog.
http://vietnamchases.blogspot.com/2015/09/first-sights.html
7 Random Notes from here:
Rains have begun. It was dry and hot for several weeks. Now it rains every night and heats up every day.
We have a couch! Our first family movie night was watching Undercover Blues. The kids find that the stiff new cushions make fabulous forts.
I'm causelessly sad. Not tons, but if you are the praying sort and can pray for me and Daniel to seek and recover joy, we believe that Father answers prayers and that he has joy for those who ask. And yes, we know about culture shock and the cycles of culture shock.
Classes haven't started for me yet. Freshmen have sorted themselves into colleges and departments now, and by today they're supposed to have indicated whether they'll pay more for the CLC classes that get the foreign teachers. Once they know how many CLC classes will be formed, they'll make my teaching schedule. So maybe next week.
We continue to volunteer at the coffee shop English Clubs, and we invite students we meet there to come here for games and conversations. A good rhythm for that is to have friends come after dinner, introduce a game and play it for a while, then go up to the roof for conversation and snacks. Then back down for another game. We haven't had a couch before, so maybe movies will become part of the options now.
We've brought our kids to a place where there are very few expat kids. They are holding up okay, but it's an isolated and lonely place to be a kid, and I feel bad for them. Tomorrow there is an excursion planned with the local expat Christian Fellowship youth group, so that's worth praying about. We're short-timers here, so the other kids don't necessarily think it's worthwhile to form friendships with our three.
2 Random Pictures from here:
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| Motorbike + trailer |
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| Porcupine meat |
First Sights
[Tim]
It was my one-month anniversary today. One month ago we first set foot in Da Nang. In all that time, I've never seen dog for sale (plenty of neighborhood dogs and puppies as pets, but never--until today--for eating). You know the end-credits thing you see on movies about "no animals were harmed in the making of this movie"? This does NOT apply to the video below, sadly:
And it was my first time to see the aftermath of a truck and motorcycle unhappily colliding.
I stayed with the camera on because there are so many things to see in this video:
It was my one-month anniversary today. One month ago we first set foot in Da Nang. In all that time, I've never seen dog for sale (plenty of neighborhood dogs and puppies as pets, but never--until today--for eating). You know the end-credits thing you see on movies about "no animals were harmed in the making of this movie"? This does NOT apply to the video below, sadly:
And it was my first time to see the aftermath of a truck and motorcycle unhappily colliding.
I stayed with the camera on because there are so many things to see in this video:
- Mummy ladies covered headtofoot to avoid the sunshine.
- Tow-behind carts pulled by motorcycles.
- Motorbike balloon seller.
- Massive trucks going north and south from the industrial park just north of us.
- Family of four on one motorbike.
- Horns used as a driving tool.
- Delivery motorbikes with a metal box strapped to the back.
- Policeman standing mid-traffic, and the traffic opening around him.
- No traffic lines.
- Very few pedestrians or bicycles. Ever.
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Personal [Driving] Space
[Tim]
I actually don't notice too much difference in face-to-face personal space here--I'll have to ask my kids if they notice it and I'm just wearing my Asia-eyes to not notice.
However.
This morning I was biking back from the market (a pomelo, 5 kilos of rice, a bunch of bananas, and a roll of trash bags in my basket) and I noticed that my sense of personal space on the road has dramatically shifted and reduced in these last couple of weeks.
In the USA we "drive for the other guy." My dad is pretty wise about defensive driving, and he told me to never assume that the other drivers were paying attention and 100% sober. So back home I drive defensively, too, and have my eyes all over the road. That doesn't really work here.
My sense of personal space is shrinking. Now it really is limited to just what is 10 feet in front of my front wheel. I don't try to anticipate what the honking taxis are doing or whether the old lady pushing the heavily-laden bicycle is going to suddenly decide to turn left into my path. If she does, I'll stop or go around, but my sphere of active awareness is shrinking. I still have peripheral awareness, for sure, but ... it's connected to the idea of "personal space" in some way.
If you are in the room with me, I'm aware of you, but only peripherally. Until you enter my personal bubble and now I have to engage with you in some way. Not that I don't like to engage with people, I'm just saying that while before you entered my personal space I was aware of you, now I'm AWARE of you. I'm watching your face for intention, I'm calibrating my extended hand so that if you go for a hug and I go for a handshake I can retract it and pretend that I was going for a hug, too. That sort of thing. We're in each other's personal space, and we're aware of each other.
On the road, on my bike, I notice that my personal space is shrunken. The guy zooming up with a cigarette in one hand and a cell phone in the other doesn't bug me. He got his tire into the space first, so I give way. I'm not really looking behind me. The taxi is honking to let me know that he's there, and that's okay. I'm still aware of lots of things, but I'm engaged with far fewer. To enter my driving bubble you have to be a) in front of me and b) quite close.
I never knew until today that I could differentiate between awareness and engagement in regards to driving. I just realized, though, that the traffic far away from me (25 feet) is not really my problem nowadays. That's what allows me to plunge headlong into intersections (there are no stop signs in Viet Nam, to my knowledge) to turn left. I am peripherally aware of the taxi and the oncoming 5 motorbikes, but they're not really in my personal space yet and I got my wheel in the intersection first.
That's it about personal driving space. Just a reflection.
Did I tell you how absurd our garage is? First of all, it's AWESOME to have a garage. Most families bring their motorbikes, bicycles, and even cars (those that have one) into their first-floor living space. Our garage is awesome because it's actually a garage. But if there are 5 people in a Viet family, dad is going to have a motorbike and mom is either going to have a second one or she'll have a bike with a flat rack on the back tire. So that's it. The family of 5 is ready to go out whenever they need to on those two vehicles. When the kid enters high school they might buy her a bicycle or an e-bike, but she has to be a certain age to drive a motorcycle.
In our garage we have 5 bicycles. We are Hilarious. The only other buildings with 5 bicycles parked inside ... are selling bicycles. Nobody comes to our house who doesn't say "Whoa! Five bicycles? Why do you have so many bicycles?" The answer "we have 5 people in our family" doesn't really answer their question. The answer to their question is that we are not Viet.
Probably this week I'll get a motorbike. For reals.
I actually don't notice too much difference in face-to-face personal space here--I'll have to ask my kids if they notice it and I'm just wearing my Asia-eyes to not notice.
However.
This morning I was biking back from the market (a pomelo, 5 kilos of rice, a bunch of bananas, and a roll of trash bags in my basket) and I noticed that my sense of personal space on the road has dramatically shifted and reduced in these last couple of weeks.
In the USA we "drive for the other guy." My dad is pretty wise about defensive driving, and he told me to never assume that the other drivers were paying attention and 100% sober. So back home I drive defensively, too, and have my eyes all over the road. That doesn't really work here.
My sense of personal space is shrinking. Now it really is limited to just what is 10 feet in front of my front wheel. I don't try to anticipate what the honking taxis are doing or whether the old lady pushing the heavily-laden bicycle is going to suddenly decide to turn left into my path. If she does, I'll stop or go around, but my sphere of active awareness is shrinking. I still have peripheral awareness, for sure, but ... it's connected to the idea of "personal space" in some way.
If you are in the room with me, I'm aware of you, but only peripherally. Until you enter my personal bubble and now I have to engage with you in some way. Not that I don't like to engage with people, I'm just saying that while before you entered my personal space I was aware of you, now I'm AWARE of you. I'm watching your face for intention, I'm calibrating my extended hand so that if you go for a hug and I go for a handshake I can retract it and pretend that I was going for a hug, too. That sort of thing. We're in each other's personal space, and we're aware of each other.
On the road, on my bike, I notice that my personal space is shrunken. The guy zooming up with a cigarette in one hand and a cell phone in the other doesn't bug me. He got his tire into the space first, so I give way. I'm not really looking behind me. The taxi is honking to let me know that he's there, and that's okay. I'm still aware of lots of things, but I'm engaged with far fewer. To enter my driving bubble you have to be a) in front of me and b) quite close.
I never knew until today that I could differentiate between awareness and engagement in regards to driving. I just realized, though, that the traffic far away from me (25 feet) is not really my problem nowadays. That's what allows me to plunge headlong into intersections (there are no stop signs in Viet Nam, to my knowledge) to turn left. I am peripherally aware of the taxi and the oncoming 5 motorbikes, but they're not really in my personal space yet and I got my wheel in the intersection first.
That's it about personal driving space. Just a reflection.
Did I tell you how absurd our garage is? First of all, it's AWESOME to have a garage. Most families bring their motorbikes, bicycles, and even cars (those that have one) into their first-floor living space. Our garage is awesome because it's actually a garage. But if there are 5 people in a Viet family, dad is going to have a motorbike and mom is either going to have a second one or she'll have a bike with a flat rack on the back tire. So that's it. The family of 5 is ready to go out whenever they need to on those two vehicles. When the kid enters high school they might buy her a bicycle or an e-bike, but she has to be a certain age to drive a motorcycle.
In our garage we have 5 bicycles. We are Hilarious. The only other buildings with 5 bicycles parked inside ... are selling bicycles. Nobody comes to our house who doesn't say "Whoa! Five bicycles? Why do you have so many bicycles?" The answer "we have 5 people in our family" doesn't really answer their question. The answer to their question is that we are not Viet.
Probably this week I'll get a motorbike. For reals.
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| Shrimp with Viet friends. Both Michael and his friend, Theo, are 12. |
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Waiting for a taxi after games and swimming at Red Beach.
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| "Forget to Smile"?? Today I saw a girl wearing a Hello Kitty shirt with happy cartoon characters and the words "I'm not okay" in bold. What does she think that means?? |
The Old Woman
[Daniel, Age 11]
Good morning America! Or evening. Stupid time zones. And I'm pretty sure only 3 people are reading this. Anyway, nothing major has happened yet in Vietnam. though I do have one fear. THE OLD WOMAN!!!!! And I mean OLD woman. Apparently I am the cutest western boy they've ever seen. One time in the market a 95 year old lady pointed at me like she was using the force. I just turned away 'cause she crept me out. Then she started walking my way. I walked away. But she kept following me. "Mom? Mom?! Mom!!" I warned. I went 20 feet away. She eyed me. Then she went back to her seat.
Good morning America! Or evening. Stupid time zones. And I'm pretty sure only 3 people are reading this. Anyway, nothing major has happened yet in Vietnam. though I do have one fear. THE OLD WOMAN!!!!! And I mean OLD woman. Apparently I am the cutest western boy they've ever seen. One time in the market a 95 year old lady pointed at me like she was using the force. I just turned away 'cause she crept me out. Then she started walking my way. I walked away. But she kept following me. "Mom? Mom?! Mom!!" I warned. I went 20 feet away. She eyed me. Then she went back to her seat.
An other time when I was biking at top speed an other old lady reached out and tried to touch me. I almost crashed. Now I'm very cautious of old women. But there's one more danger-THE COLLEGE AGED WOMAN!!!!!!!!!!! oh the selfies. They line up for selfies with me. I hate them. One time at the beach some high school girls wanted to take a selfie with me. So I ran away. And get this. they chased me. Eventually they stopped but I swear, I would have punched them in the face. So that was embarrassing. I stay at home from now on. BYE!
Sunday, September 6, 2015
Learning Viet
[Tim]
I'm white. Therefore I must not speak Viet and everything that comes out of my mouth is any language other than Viet. So it's really hard to convince someone that I'm speaking her language if we're not in the context of some familiar conversation. However, a familiar conversation like a customer/shopkeeper dialogue is enough context so that my Vietnamese can be understood as language.
When I say something she expects to hear, like "how much does it cost?" she can understand my Vietnamese and will respond with some quick numbers that I repeat immediately so she knows I heard her, but it takes me several seconds after I've repeated them before I compute what I've just said and the readout of the numbers appears in my head. I'm not talking about calculating the cost in USD (which is to divide by 22,000 whatever number they gave me)...just computing the verbal sounds so that they make numbers for me in my head with the right number of zeros and commas.
So I say, in my best Da Nang din Viet, "how much?" while pointing to something I don't want. Preferably something that I already know a rough price for, so I can see whether she's going to want to gouge me or is fair-priced. She says the answer, leaving off the last three zeros. So if it costs 500,000, she says it costs 500. The smallest bill in my wallet is 1,000 Dong.
I repeat 500, keeping my facial expression from revealing that I don't yet know what I'm repeating. I hope. Finally it dawns on me that I've just repeated the words for 500, and I point to the bookshelf that I was really wanting to buy in the first place and ask again, how much? Since I now know what ballpark we're going to be in, her response makes a lot more sense to me, and I can usually know what number she says even as she's saying it. I purse my lips and look knowledgeable (I hope) and move on. Later I'll come back and ask again, but since a) I don't yet know how to say "can you go any cheaper?" and since b) bargaining doesn't really seem to be the way things are done outside of the tourist zones of the city, I don't bargain. I just pay up or walk away.
Most of my Viet so far consists of numbers and streets and trying to say the name of my foreign language college. I still get giggles on that one. Last night we had some Viet friends over (4 recent grads that we met at Vision Cafe) and they wanted to know where I bought something. I told them the name of the street: Hung Vuong. It's a pretty major street in central Da Nang, but they looked at each other confusedly. I described where it was; still confusion. Finally, and I'm not sure what tipped her off, but one of them exclaimed "Ah! Hùng Vương!" And they all repeated the exact words I'd been saying, chattering away as if they'd discovered some secret. Giggling. I often think of a quote from Mr. Bennet in Pride and Prejudice: "Ah well, what do we live for but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them, in our turn." I do more providing sport for neighbors than the other way 'round, of course...
At outdoor restaurants an independent vendor of fruits and snacks often walks by, hoping to sell to the diners an appetizer or dessert to supplement their meal. I bought a leaf-wrapped packet, expecting a sticky rice of some kind inside. It turned out to be mystery meat. Pickled mystery meat.
We are learning things every day, and we are able to apply each lesson to the next experience. That same evening we were at someone's house for dinner, and the pickled mystery meat appeared again. The whole family had been watching my facial expression from the first experience and didn't need to independently verify whether they'd like it or not, and we were all able to discreetly avoid the pink, gelatinous substance while exclaiming exuberantly about the other foods on the table.
In other news, we ate frog last night.
I'm white. Therefore I must not speak Viet and everything that comes out of my mouth is any language other than Viet. So it's really hard to convince someone that I'm speaking her language if we're not in the context of some familiar conversation. However, a familiar conversation like a customer/shopkeeper dialogue is enough context so that my Vietnamese can be understood as language.
When I say something she expects to hear, like "how much does it cost?" she can understand my Vietnamese and will respond with some quick numbers that I repeat immediately so she knows I heard her, but it takes me several seconds after I've repeated them before I compute what I've just said and the readout of the numbers appears in my head. I'm not talking about calculating the cost in USD (which is to divide by 22,000 whatever number they gave me)...just computing the verbal sounds so that they make numbers for me in my head with the right number of zeros and commas.
So I say, in my best Da Nang din Viet, "how much?" while pointing to something I don't want. Preferably something that I already know a rough price for, so I can see whether she's going to want to gouge me or is fair-priced. She says the answer, leaving off the last three zeros. So if it costs 500,000, she says it costs 500. The smallest bill in my wallet is 1,000 Dong.
I repeat 500, keeping my facial expression from revealing that I don't yet know what I'm repeating. I hope. Finally it dawns on me that I've just repeated the words for 500, and I point to the bookshelf that I was really wanting to buy in the first place and ask again, how much? Since I now know what ballpark we're going to be in, her response makes a lot more sense to me, and I can usually know what number she says even as she's saying it. I purse my lips and look knowledgeable (I hope) and move on. Later I'll come back and ask again, but since a) I don't yet know how to say "can you go any cheaper?" and since b) bargaining doesn't really seem to be the way things are done outside of the tourist zones of the city, I don't bargain. I just pay up or walk away.
Most of my Viet so far consists of numbers and streets and trying to say the name of my foreign language college. I still get giggles on that one. Last night we had some Viet friends over (4 recent grads that we met at Vision Cafe) and they wanted to know where I bought something. I told them the name of the street: Hung Vuong. It's a pretty major street in central Da Nang, but they looked at each other confusedly. I described where it was; still confusion. Finally, and I'm not sure what tipped her off, but one of them exclaimed "Ah! Hùng Vương!" And they all repeated the exact words I'd been saying, chattering away as if they'd discovered some secret. Giggling. I often think of a quote from Mr. Bennet in Pride and Prejudice: "Ah well, what do we live for but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them, in our turn." I do more providing sport for neighbors than the other way 'round, of course...
At outdoor restaurants an independent vendor of fruits and snacks often walks by, hoping to sell to the diners an appetizer or dessert to supplement their meal. I bought a leaf-wrapped packet, expecting a sticky rice of some kind inside. It turned out to be mystery meat. Pickled mystery meat.
We are learning things every day, and we are able to apply each lesson to the next experience. That same evening we were at someone's house for dinner, and the pickled mystery meat appeared again. The whole family had been watching my facial expression from the first experience and didn't need to independently verify whether they'd like it or not, and we were all able to discreetly avoid the pink, gelatinous substance while exclaiming exuberantly about the other foods on the table.
In other news, we ate frog last night.
Friday, September 4, 2015
Asia Tidbits
Right now I'm sitting in a cafe with Anna. We're at a place near our house where I'd like to become a regular. Today I've ordered "avocado with ice cream." Sound good? Anna is sticking closer to the familiar with pineapple juice with honey.
Most places serve a complimentary iced green tea as well. Sometimes it's delightful, and sometimes pretty bitter. This one is of the delightful variety, maybe with a hint of coconut? Next time I'm out with a Vietnamese speaker, I'm going to see if I can find out where to buy it. We feel pretty good about drinking the tea that's offered because we know the water boiled in order to make the tea, but it's best not to think about whether the glasses were washed thoroughly or not.... I was enjoying a lunch of chicken and rice at a small shop recently, and the proprietress gestured to the cooler where I could refill my tea if I wanted to. I opened the lid and couldn't see how the tea was supposed to be dipped out, and the nearby options weren't encouraging. I opted not to have a refill of the cold stuff and instead poured some hot tea out of a thermos on the table. I think I made the right choice, because later I saw another customer help himself to the cold tea by simply dipping his own glass into the bucket. Oh well. I'll still go back for the chicken and rice, though, because it was good eating and was followed by the most nourishing-tasting broth I've ever had.
By the way, avocado with ice cream is a hit. I'll be back for another one of these!
We took a few amusing pictures the first time we went to the large Korean department store here. It's turned out to be our favorite comprehensive shopping place, and we just may send you some of these tasty snacks for Christmas.
Daniel is always pointing out the nonsensical nature of advertisements. He wants to know why a picture of a smiling family is supposed to make someone buy plastic bags, for example. I think he had a good point with this one, though. If this is an advertisement for an eyeglasses company, why is no one wearing glasses?
Most places serve a complimentary iced green tea as well. Sometimes it's delightful, and sometimes pretty bitter. This one is of the delightful variety, maybe with a hint of coconut? Next time I'm out with a Vietnamese speaker, I'm going to see if I can find out where to buy it. We feel pretty good about drinking the tea that's offered because we know the water boiled in order to make the tea, but it's best not to think about whether the glasses were washed thoroughly or not.... I was enjoying a lunch of chicken and rice at a small shop recently, and the proprietress gestured to the cooler where I could refill my tea if I wanted to. I opened the lid and couldn't see how the tea was supposed to be dipped out, and the nearby options weren't encouraging. I opted not to have a refill of the cold stuff and instead poured some hot tea out of a thermos on the table. I think I made the right choice, because later I saw another customer help himself to the cold tea by simply dipping his own glass into the bucket. Oh well. I'll still go back for the chicken and rice, though, because it was good eating and was followed by the most nourishing-tasting broth I've ever had.
By the way, avocado with ice cream is a hit. I'll be back for another one of these! |
| The proprietress preparing a baggy of broth for a to-go order. |
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| I took the whole family back to my chicken and rice spot, and EVERYONE was happy with the food! |
We took a few amusing pictures the first time we went to the large Korean department store here. It's turned out to be our favorite comprehensive shopping place, and we just may send you some of these tasty snacks for Christmas.
After about two hours of grueling shopping in the home goods department, we all needed some cheering up with ice cream at Lotteria, a fast food place on the ground floor. I think I was more cheered by the wall-sized display of random American burger sentiments:
Every day we see something new, do something a little better than the first time we tried it, and discover a new place to get something we've been looking for. The joys outweigh the hardships, and we are glad to be here. It's going to be a life-changing year!
Love,
Janet
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