Vietnam: A Working Production

On Mosquitos
There are not mosquito nets at our guest home in Ben Tre.  Upon questioning why this was the case, the following conversation pursued:
Em: There are A/C units in the rooms.
Me: So?
Em: Mosquitoes don't like living stinging you under these conditions.
Sounded logical to me.  However, I think that the excessive, nightly feastings upon my limbs prove otherwise.  Regardless of the fact that the native may have been incorrect, I can't proclaim that he was untruthful (does your dog bite? No. He bit me! This is not my dog.) and he never gets bitten, but any mechanisms of defense are utterly useless in the Mekong Region against expat blood, especially of type B+.  I have given up on repellents as they only seem to antagonize these audacious little buggers; they will land on body parts you are visually guarding against and if you go for the SWAT, they casually depart your epidermis only to return momentarily.  They play by a different set of rules, it's not a one bite and done type of deal, these are communist, so they eat accordingly.  There is no such thing as getting one bite, you get a cluster of bites but you aren't aware of this until you start moving about and realize a section of your body has been assaulted by an pro-itchiness campaign.  Like many problems here, this is best solved by using thy mind and trying to simply forget what has occurred, or if you are like me, you douse said area of your body with tiger balm.
On the Subject of Medicine
I ditched my malaria pills a while back and will only take them if I want a particularly vivid dream - but I never do.
I have learned that lime followed by 5 minutes and iodine is the best way to counter an allergic reaction to concrete.  I am certain that had a mild reaction of this type overtaken my legs in America, I would have spent half my day dealing with the matter and anywhere between $50-$200.
On the Matter of Pain
It is all relative; but, it is easier to dissociate from feelings of pain when you know a homeopathic and surefire cure lies within reach - rather than a trip to the doctor's office and a bottle of drugs that are not suitable for the 'syndrome' you have just contracted.
On Vietnamese Toughness
It is good that the Vietnamese people are tough, because the kids are violent little creatures.  It is common occurrence for our elementary school students to suddenly start waling on one another.  It is rarely more than 1 vs. 1, except when they or our Vietnamese teaching counterparts decide to incite games in which the students are encouraged attack the teacher.  It's all in good fun, and it never draws blood, but that doesn't mean they don't bruise each other or are hesitant to sock or be socked in the face (and yes this includes inter-gender duels).  They eat knuckle sandwiches willingly and I am convinced that this is where the expression originated.
On the Lunchlady
She don't take no s#@* from nobody and she would never fathom serving us knuckle sandwich, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't cook one.  The lunchlady is the ultimate purveyor of Vietnamese everything, particularly that which I have already mentioned.  Her food is too good to be served anywhere but in her kitchen and while she's not at all reluctant to share her secrets, she works so swiftly that I cannot tell if she has added a pinch of salt and a tablespoon of MSG to the batter or vice versa (what will surely equate to a big difference when I feebly attempt to recreate her dishes).  What I do know is that her food is very sweet and that this results from cooking everything in a combination of fat oil and coconut milk and using ample sugar.  While the lunchlady's meals are a tremendous temporary cure-all, their conclusion's often immediately induce the following states: drowsiness, a food-like coma, of pain reentering the body, TMJ (Temporomandibular Joint Disorder), hydration and or dehydration, relaxation, and anxiety to name a few.  The reason for the latter is simple, you never quite know what the lunchlady is liable to do once you have satisfied her appetite by dutifully eating all of the food anywhere near your table (or feeding leftover scraps to the dogs if she is not looking and you happen to have come across a particularly fatty piece of meat).  Things I have seen the lunchlady do: throw a coconut at her dog's head for trying to eat scraps of food from the trashcan, kick her chicken because it was trying to drink water from the dishwashing basin, feed her python a chicken followed up by a large rat (it ate both), chide me for the manner in which I eat certain foods, get angry with our Vietnamese girl counterparts for letting us men get anywhere near doing house chores, hold cooking seminars for an American man and an Argentinian man so that they may woo a better wife in a nearer day, laugh incessantly at my lack of photographic inhibition and then at the pictures it produces, give me a tour of her property (which runs back 400m) and pull down a kilogram of limes from her tree as a kind of sacrificial offering to my leg (concrete burn), chop the tops off and then force us to drink multiple coconuts laughing all-the-while because she knows we are already full.
On the Subject of Vietnamese Women Who Treat Me Like They Would Their Son
The Mama of Anh Hong (our hotel), Mah as we call her, never misses a chance to tell a story about me and parlay it into how I remind her of her son who, as chance would have it, works here; he, obviously, is a righteously cool, overly nice and very handsome dude who has an impeccable fashion sense to boot.  It was just yesterday that I was in the market shopping at Mah's clockware and jewelry store when her son pulled up on a motorbike.  It was at the moment when Mah was jamming a bangle bracelet on Logan's wrist - while a Vietnamese women was telling Logan she was not in pain at the very same time that Logan was yelping and exclaiming how she was in pain - that her son told me he liked one of the four pendants I had picked out (same one I would have chosen).  When I told Mah I would take it, she snatched it from me and said something along the lines of "This is one of the ugliest pieces of garbage I have, these are supposed to be jade and it's not, I'll take you to buy a fashionably acceptable one" I know this because Bao was translating.
Other quirky petty grievances we have: she swipes my laundry whenever I so much as walk anywhere near the washing basin with dirty clothes in my hand. I don't know how this one came about because she never let me get so far as pouring water onto my clothes before she decided I was no good at cleaning them.  She thinks she is doing our room a service by tidying it; my roommate and I agree that this makes is harder to find things.  If an accessory food (such as the morning bread loaves) run out, she makes one of the hostesses run out and fetch one from the market; I would rather eat my find then and there without the bells and whistles than wait 15 minutes for a proper meal.  That is Mah, that's just the way she is, did I mention what else?
The Ranging Services of Anh Hong Hotel
It runs the gamut from a brothel to a wedding hall.  It also comes with Mah, your personal, complimentary, market shopping assistant who decides the price of the item you are being sold, not the shop owner.  Whatever food you want to eat and tofu cooking lessons.

More to come, got to go, no time to edit.

Summer Time and the Living's Easy

Before you read any further, go here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kxGh6VGxuw0 and start playing this song.

OK, now continue:

The last two days have not been like any other I have experienced. Beyond exhausting, hilarious, tiresome, funny, physically taxing, yadayadayada, they have been enjoyable and not lacking of entertainment. Wednesday started with Bac and I triumphantly declaring that we would be the first to get to breakfast so that we could also be amongst the first to get to the work site. After arriving at breakfast in the first wave of CETers, we were not served until 30 minutes later, after when we were supposed to have departed for work. Our waiter seemed to enjoy playing the ignore game, and a game that I was new too, one where he tried to bring over the same egg and soup bowl multiple times and insist on it being ours.

Work followed suit with breakfast, I toiled for hours to renovate a third generation wheelbarrow so that it could retain the sand or concrete which would be loaded into it. As it turns out, it is actually easier to fill buckets rather than the wheelbarrow, a point I obstinately conceded after having invested much sweat equity.

Thanks Joe 

After lunch, I posted up in my hammock where I had my third unsuccessful day of napping, although at least I had a valid excuse - the little kids were harassing me.

Told You! It's okay though Nam's generally cooperative (No pun, that's his name). 

After jumping on our bicycles and starting to leave the lunchlady’s house, an old man (whom I had never seen before) appeared and forced me and some others to drink and eat coconuts saying that if we didn’t oblige, it would be a sign of great disrespect. After it was all said and done I had drank two coconuts and eaten one, and although I enjoyed them, I was not given much choice in the matter.

Ben Tre is known for its coconuts 

At school we taught the kids how to play 4square. Each class seems to play their own version of the game, but it keeps them smiling, so I think it was a success. Next we tried to play soccer, until a certain, very drunk teacher, took the game hostage by stealing the ball. He however was not the drunkest faculty member – that award went to the highest ranking administrator who was experiencing an intense slumber in the hammock next to the ongoing construction, the principal himself. Even the construction workers were noticeably inebriated. We thought this might mean that the after school soccer match between us and the construction workers might be postponed, but the computer teacher adamantly insisted that the game continue as planned. Good times at the elementary school.

The futbol (as it shall be referred to going forward) game was as big of a joke as our afternoon at the elementary school. They scored an own goal from a kick in and we trounced them. In the process there was a collision that led to a boy’s wrist being dislocated – good going Logan – but this did not stop the drunk teacher from twisting the kid’s wrist just to be absolutely certain. After verifying the injury the teacher then ran behind one of the goals and started projectile vomiting. Great times.

We biked home and most people were already eating so Bac and I went to an open table. The waiter laughed as he repeatedly passed us on his way to serve another table their food. When we asked him what was going on, he said he would not serve us until our whole table was present. That happened about 15 minutes later when Katie showed up as most people were being served dessert. Luckily for Katie, we spared her beheading because we were too absorbed eating fried chicken which tasted so good that I would not have been suspicious had someone told me I was in a bayou in Louisiana (I always picture them having amazing fried chicken there).

As if the day had not long enough already, there was a meeting during which we were supposed to discuss a lot, but during which we did not discuss a lot at all. After about an hour, Bao threatened to break out Durian (which smells terrible) if the meeting lasted 15 minutes longer – and it did. As soon as Bao broke out the Durian, I remembered that there was rice wine still to be had in the fridge, so we started to imbibe that as well. Before we knew it the meeting was over, and so too was the night.

There is a lot of work to be done in the early stages of building a house so the majority of use are usually occupied and the workdays tend to go by quickly - at least for now. Thursday we laid the foundation for the house.

3rd from the bottom on the right, doing work. 

Lunch was beyond good, we had pork and stir fried pineapple. The lunchlady is really starting to have me looking forward to her meals. That’s a big transformation from the first day when I was a bit iffy, about what appeared to be a general blandness, when I saw the food. Anyways, at school we played jump the river, limbo and bowling for kids; the latter is my favorite. The students (mostly in elementary school) stand in a circle trying not to get hit by soccer balls that we either throw or kick into the circle. It’s kind of like dodgeball except I have nothing to worry about and the targets are a lot easier. 

After school we played futbol again, but this time it was serious. After gashing one of the construction worker’s achilles (easily a yellow card foul) with an errant kick, scoring on a header, dishing out my second assist in as many days, and watching our goalkeeper take a bullet to the face from close range, we won a nail-biter 6-5.

On the way home, as I was riding my bicycle with no hands, I began thinking that I am not as big a novelty here as I was in Quang Tri. It was at this moment that a motor biker passed me, staring intently. He looked back at me multiple times from over his shoulder. Although I think he was gawking at the fact that I am white, I think he was more bewildered by the fact that I was riding hands free. Just as I was done thinking this and he was out of sight, I put my hands back… tried to put my hands back on the handlebars, but before I knew it, I was lying face up in the middle of the road. Man it is going to be hard to readjust to life in America, but I digress. Juan Pablo bought me a beer for having scored my first ever international league goal, and this was enough to ease the pain of my biking accident.

Dinner’s sticky rice and amazing wintermelon salad was so good, that I was torn between determining whose food I preferred – the lunchlady’s or that cooked by the wife of the man who owns the Anh Hong Hotel.

Friday, courtesy of Bao, I learned that little kids will give massages on command, as they are accustomed to doing so for their elders. From what I hear, they are comparable to the $5/hr massages offered at our hotel – really good. I also decided that the lunchlady is the best cook in the eastern hemisphere, she prepared our meal on Friday with more love than anybody has ever put into a meal that I have eaten (outside of my mother). She got up at 3AM (early even by Vietnamese standards) to de-shell three kilograms of shrimp so that she could make us the meal below. One picture doesn't do it justice, so sorry to make you salivate but I had to give the lunchlady her due.

Tofu with tomatoes (which tasted like those on an authentic margarita pizza) 

Deep fried shrimp dough balls 

Stir fried pineapple, my favorite. 

Some sort of taro root soup in the middle - outrageous. 

Breaking Ground, Breaking Bread: Day 2

Today started and I was not particularly happy to greet it, having been awoken from a dream whereby I was night skiing in Vermont, I awoke with multiple mosquito bites and feeling as though my back had been assaulted by a force equivalent to that exerted on cars by a demolition machine.  After taking a 'detour' I arrived at work where we exemplified the definition of 'backbreaking work.'  We dumped a mounds worth of sand bags onto the ground, stacked countless bricks, and moved cement and bricks with a device that I had people calling 'torahs' by the end of the day.  The carrying devices (of which I made several) consist of two bamboo sticks protruding through opposite sides of a sandbag.  There was a short break in our workday when we were offered a duck that the family had ceremoniously killed to celebrate our having broken ground.  For the contractors and other men of importance, this translated to free flowing wine and shots.

After work we were rewarded with a splendiferous meal which easily filled me.  Next, it was a dash to find spots to post our hammocks because the amount of people toting these sleep instruments had doubled from 3 to 6 (I'd like to take credit for having started this trend - which also ought to give me seniority for spot picking, as if age wasn't already enough).  Regardless, I was unable to fall asleep.

Next, we taught PE at the elementary school.  The amount of students more than quadrupled - we went from <20 students on Day 1 to >80 students today.  Amazing how quickly word gets out.

Out of the ordinary things I saw today: a shipping barge in an embankment that should not have been large enough for a shipping barge, police setting a speed trap for motor bicyclists*, and a swarm of bees feeding on the pure sugar a woman was trying to sell in a tub at the market.

*The rules of the road here are interesting.  In Quang Tri, there seemingly were no road rules, vehicles travelled wherever they pleased because the open space on the road often permitted this.  Here, there certainly are rules of the road, but nonetheless it feels more dangerous.  Slower vehicles stay to the right.  So, typically from right to left, bicyclers are on the outside then motorbikes carrying loads, then motorbikes, then cars and trucks.  However, if a vehicle is driving at you on the wrong side of the road, you give them the outside lane, thus moving a lane to the left and closer into steadier traffic. 

Can't worry about that now, going to watch 'Due Date.'

Where Does the Time Go?

I can't believe it has been more than 10 days since my last blog, but that doesn't mean that nothing has happened.  Either I have been too busy to get somewhere with internet access, or as of late, the township I am staying in as a whole, has lacked internet access.
Last Friday was our last day of teaching the high school kids in Quang Tri :(( so we let them design the class (all games all day, plus karoake - standard).  It was very sad to leave them, and there was no shortage in paparazzi to document this moment.
Saturday brought an unusual start to our morning as instead of leaving for the caves, we were forced to pack our belongings and head to another hotel (security breach).  The trip to the caves was almost put on hold a day due to lengthy police questioning of my peers (the police here are very judicious and thorough).  This was not enough to hold us back however and all (minus 3 of our Vietnamese counterparts) made the late morning 3 hour trek to the caves.  To say the least they were extraordinary and I believe there is talk about including them in the 7 wonders of the world (not having been to all of the others, this statement is unfair but, I think it definitely should be awarded this standing).  There are water caves and there are dry caves (which you climb 356 stairs to get to - I counted on the way down, because I was ludicrously told it was 1,000 stairs).  In the water caves, Juan Pablo and I jumped into the water, much to the amusement of the other tourists and boat captains, and much to the bewilderment of our Vietnamese counterparts (many of whom cannot swim and were scared for us).
On Sunday, our last day at the worksite, I videod our bikeride to work which was slightly abbreviated due to the hotel switch, but I was very satisfied with the documentary.  Granted, there is no such thing as a normal bike ride to work in Vietnam, I was not surprised when my chain came off midway through the trip.  We finished the bathroom, mural and all, and it looks amazing, except for the fact that there is a 'CET - Duke Engage' plaque on the front.  They at least could have included UNC!
Monday brought one of the busiest days on our trip.  It started with a full team bikeride to the elementary school where we all took pictures in front of the newly constructed and operational restroom (which I ceremoniosuly christened the day before).  Next we rode to the Youth Center where we took pictures underneath the parking (bike) shelter that the other team had built.  After the final midday meal at our lunch spot, it was back to the Youth Center to rehearse for the nighttime closing ceremony.  After rehearsals and a team of collegiate students were soaked in sweat, we headed to a farewell banquet with everyone that we had worked with in Quang Tri.  The food was aplenny and there were hotpots abound.  The montage I made seemed to be a hit and it put a smile on the faces of the construction workers that we worked with, which made me feel relieved.  The closing ceremony collered shirts that we were given  had me feeling like a park ranger in Disney World and thus sufficiently signaled that we were ready to perform in one last hurrah.  The closing ceremony was quite humbling: the gymnasium was overflooding with people, there were TV cameras and photographers, all of the students showed up and many performed, and your boy was given the honor of accepting the gift that Quang Tri bestowed upon CET (a framed poster of a sunset with a Vietnamese poem, at whose meaning I cannot even venture a guess).  It was going all too perfectly until I was informed that Tuan and I would be the first performers of the night.  We sang 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' - Tuan had learned it earlier that day so that I wouldn't have to go at it alone (I half tipsilly decided to throw my hat in the ring in the first place), he's a trooper like that.  Anyways, let's just say that the future performances had nowhere to go but up from that point; at least that much I can be proud of.  The students were adorable, they presented us with gifts, most notably a framed picture of all of us together with "We Are Unity" inscribed on it (the song we had sang together earlier in the ceremony).  They totally one upped us - we gave them the same picture, except smaller and unframed, but  our signatures and a "We loved learning with you and will cherish these times forever" message on the back saved our grace.  The night ended amid waves of tears and it was quite wrenching to be departing the Youth Center for the last time.
To my students: Don't worry, I will be back, and the first place I go will be to the Youth Center, but when that day is, only time will tell, I can only hope that it is sooner rather than later.
Tuesday began quite early and without fail, our students showed up at the busstop so we could have one final exchange.  When we got to the train station, the tears started flowing once again as we said our final goodbyes to our Vietnamese roommates.  Even Qua (our worksite contractor) showed up to say goodbye, which I thought was totally out of his unemotional character.  I am going to miss that guy the same as I will everyone else, even though I could not verbally communicate with him.  The 20 hour train ride began with a meager 2 hour delay, and, as chance would have it, the 6 people with the most luggage (Juan Pablo, Bao, Kathy, Logan, Devyn, and myself) were put in the same cabin.  The size of this reaffirmed my content in neglecting my original childhood dream of becoming an astronaut.  It took more than an hour for us to figure out the best way to situate the suitcases, but after that and 4 episodes of 'Friends' it was snooze time for the rest of the journey (with intermittent deboardings to grab candies from trainside vendors).
As quickly as Tuesday went, so too did Wednesday.  After hearing there was a waiting list - yes I had to do a double take on that as well - on the spot we had wanted to eat dinner, the 4 guys on the trip (JP, Bao, Joey, and myself) along with Kathy, went to a truly local eating joint.  We were drawn in by the crowded and raucous atmosphere where beer was flowing abundantly.  It was the type of place were they bring out your meat and then you grill it yourself, on a coal grill.  The first thing on the menu was deep-fried scorpion and being that I had come into this trip resolved to eat one, and that I was sitting next to JP who I knew would be down for the adventure, I suggested we ought to try it.  I tried not to think about it, but when I saw it on my plate, I couldn't help but realize THERE IS A SCORPION SITTING ON MY PLATE!  My nerves were calmed when JP offered to eat the bigger one, so I bit in and then I got bit back.  The tail pricked the inside of my lip, but beyond that it was very good.  The outside was crunchy and there was not a lot of meat, but of what there was, it was tasty.  Next time I am determined to eat the alligator they feature on the menu.
After dinner we went to a club (minus JP), which was an experience in and of itself, particularly because the sounds are of songs you would hear in America, but the sights are totally different (imagine Asian funk dancing to club music).
Thursday was all about the meals, I grabbed lunch with a new friend at a spot frequented by locals and in the know tourists - the baby clams were my favorite. Before dinner and after meeting our roommates (Bac is an interestingly cool cat and ironically from Quang Tri, so I get to be weaned away from that town slowly) we went to a cool coffee spot which ironically had the same name (Kool Coffee). I'm not sure what I had expected, but it certainly was not what happened, which was a ~60 person English speaking cultural meeting - met some cool people.  Dinner was a 6 course meal in which each course was tastier than the one before it,starting with a coconut or maybe bamboo based salad.
Friday meant shopping for supplies we would need in Ben Tre where I have chosen to teach PE for the elementary schoolchildren and Tre (our new on-site assistant) took us to a market with Asian goods and Asian prices - finally.  Why I had not been informed of this market or others nearby, I am not quite sure, but it will certainly be seeing my face and probably a Benjamin's too upon my return to Saigon.
Saturday we left for Ben Tre which was a breeze because I slept the entirety of the way.  We had a reception from local government officials and this meant a hearty hot pot meal. This was lovely, except it was 3PM and we had eaten a huge lunch merely hours later.  The food down here is very sweet, especially in contrast to the food in Quang Tri and Hue which is known for its spiciness.
Sunday was pretty much a rest day although we took a tour of a coconut candy factory which was something I could only previously imagine - probably my 2nd time in a factory (Ahava in Israel).
As for today, we started our construction project, which consisted of moving sand and rocks from a boat to the land and then about 100 meters to the work site.  It was interesting to see that in the time we worked (8-11AM) the water level dropped a meter.  Lunch was delicious, my favorite dish being the pork that was boiled in coconut water rather than regular water, giving it an extra sweet, delicious taste.
Something new I am going to start: I will try and post the wildest thing I see each day, because I realize that I see a lot of them and that I might be getting jaded.
Yesterday, I witnessed a firetruck pull up to the market while people flooded the streets.  The firemen used steel cutters to free a large lock and then people started pouring inside the building.  About 30 seconds later, they all turned around and came running out as smoke started billowing out of the building - the crowd quickly dispersed.  The man I presumed to be the chief was wearing a shirt that said "School of Hard Knocks" (I have witnessed that the man in charge is often the most nonchalant and casually dressed).
Today I saw a fully grown hog (I think it cannot have weighed anything less than 300 lbs) inside a cage attached to the back of a motorbike.
#SomeoneinIndiaHasReadMyBlog Google told me so.

Bloggerings One Day at a Time

Since last time.

29/6/11

Not many notes from today, although we did grab ban kweh (spelling?) which is the Vietnamese equivalent to a taco, except it's filled with shrimp and pork instead of chicken or beef.  Mushroom and I ordered it, but they had not yet been cooked (often when you order food it has already been prepared) so the woman told us she would deliver it to us - how she knows where we live, I have no idea.  The food was as good as the service.

30/6/11

Today there was little work to be done at the site, but we witnessed the first power tool in action.  They are digging underground to connect the sewer tank of the new bathroom to that of the old.  While teaching high school, Devyn's and my PowerPoint encountered technical difficulties which came as a relief to me, because I was pretty tired to have had to teach.  I did however try to teach them how to pronounce Pizza (Peet-za) but they couldn't do it and I had a ball constantly repeating it for them to say.

After school, I played football for the first time with the kids in the plaza near our guesthouse.  They are very good, but they all throw like girls so I they were wowed by my rocket cannon arm which I used to launch balls from the goalkeeper spot and down the sidelines on throw-ins.

With the boys that call me 'Messi' as I pull up to school.

1/7/11

Today we actually put moderate work into the construction project: breaking through the bathroom floor in order to make room for the sewage pipe, digging the trench for the pipe to fit into (atop a sewage drain), and slapping cement onto the inner walls.  Nothing too strenuous however.  Devyn and I taught fast food to our students which was hilarious and shockingly revealing of the cultural differences.  None had ever heard of McDonald's, in their defense they had heard of KFC and Pizza Hut, but still, c'mon.  We were teaching some really tangential things as well, like Kobiyashi (from the Nathan's hot dog eating contests), Belgium Waffles, Jared (the promotional Subway guy), and bacon double cheeseburgers - which the students scribbled furiously into their notebooks, to give them a more well-rounded (pun intended) version of the American food climate.  After class it was Tuan's birthday so we went to a place to get drinks and cake, sing songs, and watch people get pied with cake.  After the festivities, the Americans made the mistake of trying to pay for their drinks, but Tuan insisted on paying saying 'it is my birthday I MUST pay' (we did not relent easily, not realizing that this is customary in Vietnamese culture).  After it all we Karaoked with the students and called it a night.

Digging a Trench

Devyn and I teach 'McDonald's' to a bunch of dazed and confused looks.

Sweet 16, time for a permit!

2/7/11 (Trip to Hue started with successfully contacting my sister to wish her a happy birthday!)

We drove about 1.5 hours to arrive in Hue (where our Vietnamese counterparts attend the university).  I was really excited to be on their home turf, and my excitement was easily whetted by our doings.

We started by touring the Hue Citadel (the former capital city of Vietnam), where I learned that the most skillful (in terms of Kung Fu and literature) son of the queen inherits the throne, not necessarily the first born son.  I find this to be very respectable, the king could defend himself and must have been reassuring to know that the boss man really was the BOSS.  I also learned that red and yellow represents blood and land, which, whether it is true or not, makes their flag quite telling to me - a lot of blood shed for a small, but special piece of land.  Lastly, their temples, unlike most others in the world, are built south to north and not east to west - this is their version of feng shui.

Next we went to the Thien Mu (Heaven Fairy Lady) Pagoda.  It has lasted nearly 500 years, which is an astonishing feat in terms of fortitude alone, but equally  as impressive to me is that it was built in dedication to a woman who appeared in the king's dream (at a time when I presume women did not hold much clout).  It was at this Pagoda that I saw the most beautiful Buddhist Shrine I have ever seen.  I witnessed a holy, pre-lunch, prayer by the monks while standing directly opposite them (not that I even have one, but a picture would not do this moment justice, so I will let you imagine it).

Then we went to Tu Duc's tomb (the 4th king); he was clearly egomaniacal, and thanks to this there is a spectacular tomb for tourists to visit.  The tomb site was erected 16 years before he died at the age of 53.  On his tomb was a 'self-critical' autobiography spanning both sides of a 20 ton slab (written in Chinese).  I think one of his criticisms was, or should have been, that he was busy erecting a tomb in a time of extreme turmoil and annexation by the French.  Anyways, at this site, we stumbled upon two men who had a story so extraordinary that I find it hard to believe, yet the confirmation seemed pretty legit. 

Back story: I really wanted to take a picture with this guy whose entire chest was covered in war medals.  When I had my roommate suggest this to him he laughed at me and walked away.  About an hour later, some Asian people are grabbing my arm and insisting I take photographs with them.  Next thing I know, the man with the medals and another guy start taking pictures with and of me, all-the-while I am being told (by a woman who speaks English) that I am standing next to two very important people and that I do not even know it.  I ask who they are and the man dressed in plain clothes responds that he is the grandson of the (12th) king, and nephew to the last king (aka the guy who was in power before Ho Chi Minh took presidency).  I was flabbergasted and could not believe his story, so I asked him to tell me a story about his dad or grandfather and he told a long tale which satisfied my Vietnamese roommate and which was then loosely translated to me.  The story basically involved the imprisonment and release of his grandfather/uncle - he made me a believer.

Finally it was time for an outrageous lunch.  The dishes were equally as impressive as the scenery and I ate several things I never imagined myself eating in my lifetime.  These included: frog skin (tasted like potato chips), frog legs (tasted like delicious, buttery, chewier chicken), and a weird shrimp thing that looked like it had been fossilized in gelatin and rolled up inside a grape leaf.  Between lunch and dinner was essentially a pool session at the hotel, but dinner was quite funny.  We ate at an 'Italian' place across the street, which did not quite appease the Americans and was found to be totally repulsive by the Vietnamese students who had never had this style of food.  At least we finally got to use forks!

Thien Mu Pagoda

Bodyguard, me, son of the son of the king, roommate

3/7/11

Woke up at 8am to meet Devyn and Thuy for breakfast.  It was swelteringly hot and walking the first part of the morning without sunscreen did not help.  We ate a soup (mien bo) that resembled pho, but in typical Hue style it was much spicier. Next we went to Dong Ba market - the biggest in Hue.  In typical Max fashion, I went in wanting several things: a leather briefcase/backpack, a NorthFace backpack, a suitcase, a pipe, maybe some beer tanktops and shoes, alas I walked out with nothing but candy.  Later we went to Thao's house which was very nice and right near the Citadel.  The lunch was splendid and probably left me the fullest I have felt in Asia, every plate was spot on.  They had this stuff that reminded me of Charoset, except it had pork in it and you put it on sesame crackers instead of Matzah - it tasted delicious.  After lunch we passed out hardcore in the spot where the lunch table had previously been.  Upon coming back to Quang Tri I was surprised to find myself feeling that I was coming home.  To state the obvious, it was an enjoyable weekend.

post-nap

4/7/11

This morning a monk pulled up next to me on his motorbike to say hello (he must've known it was Independence Day).   We sang the National Anthem to our students which they enjoyed and which actually went quite well. 

In the afternoon, Xuan and I went to the Quang Tri Market which produced a hilarious experience.  We found a kid who spoke English and asked where we could find a leather briefcase.  Next thing I knew, we were being lead out of the market and through back alleys to a house filled with shirtless men playing Chinese chess.   The ground floor of the house offered nearly everything that can be found in the market.  While they had briefcases, they did not have leather ones and were confused why I kept saying khong (no).  I proceeded to drink the tea they offered me and then watched the sunset.

everyone's house seems to double as a store/restaurant of some sort, but this one takes the cake

sunset, ehhh

5/7/11

As fate would have it, we were short on people at the worksite (some were helping out the soccer tournament) and had a day of lifting heavy objects.  In class we taught clichés from a worksheet I put together.  I thought the term 'Eye Candy' seemed to go over quite well.  Although I warned them that they ought to never say it as loud as they did when I made them repeat it to me.  At night Juan Pablo made Dulce De Leche, which will certainly be entering my stomach more in the future.  I never realized how useful condensed milk can be.

6/7/11

The worksite was slow and a few of our students from class even showed up.  From them and a 13 year old who speaks little English, I learned more Vietnamese than I had in the whole week of class we had in Saigon.  Then my students brought me to the market whereby I am becoming a regular and where I was introduced to one of their grandmother's. 

Dung, my Vietnamese teacher who I guestimated was ~8 yrs old

7/7/11

Worksite had a lot of stuff to be done and 4 of our high school students were nice enough to come help.  I painted the three walls that have yet to be painted, coating them in a white paint which my clothes are now smattered in.  On the way home I took pictures so that I could insert them into the video (which I will be taking tomorrow - granted I wakeup in time, 5 hours from now) of the bike trip to work.  On my way home, at the beckoning of the conductors, I made a pit stop at the railroad station where they are based in the daytime.  After giving them a trung me opla sandwich (egg and cheese) they quickly reciprocated, giving me tea and bananas.  Every day I go through the same motions, but with every day there is a new adventure to be embraced.

Class started with a game of fox and chicken.  Although it was awesome, I also was rewarded with a sopping wet t-shirt after  playing the fox for one round.  Short on teachers - half of them went to the worksite to continue painting the mural - my group played a game involving cliches/expressions and then we did skits.  One group had a funny bit whereby a student interviewed to be a carpet cleaner, but was overqualified for the position.  Next Hoang (the big dude) got up and performed "My heart Will Go On" for American Idol.  Next he went backstage, cross dressed and started rapping in Vietnamese.  Quite quickly it became evident that he was performing the Spice Girl's "Tell Me What You Want, What You Really Really Want."  Now there is a scene I will never forget (if prompted).

good peoples = good convos (whether or not any is being mutually understood)

This weekend we go to Thien Duong Caves in Quang Bin (Anh's hometown).  Wikipedia them.

#ExcitedToGoSwimming

I Know I've Been MIA for Awhile, But There's One Thing I want to Know: Am I on Planet Earth?

Sometimes it is hard to believe I am on the same planet that contains the place I call my home.  Equally as unbelievable is that sometimes I forget I am in Asia.  However, I am quickly reminded of these facts the moment I step out of our 'hotel.'  Vietnam is very direct.  When you meet somebody it is customary to exchange names and ages, no matter how youthful or old the person may be.  Interactions are very blunt and I appreciate this, but sometimes I have to force myself to be truthful because common talk here includes things which would be considered extremely rude or inappropriate back home.  People immediately comment on your physical appearance - if they think you are overweight, they'll call you fat.  Today an old man who annihilated me in Ping Pong last week, told me via a translator, that I am awful at the sport.  Ordinary.

The good news is that I am a local celebrity.  I know this is going to sound like an ego trip, but this is my version of events as truthfully as I can put it.  The guys look at me longly and the girls look at me longingly.  Everybody calls me dep trai (handsome).  They love my skin complexion (very white) because it is what they aspire towards, and everyone wants to know how tall I am - other than the other American guy on our trip and one high school student that I teach, I have not met anybody who is taller than me.  The girl students are hot for teacher and sometimes I need to pull the brim of my hat low and duck out of a side door in order to avoid the post class bombardment that is assured to come my way.  Last week on a bike ride home, two girls riding on the same bike told me I was hot.  I halfheartedly hoped I was not understanding them correctly, so I started fanning myself and said "Yes, I am hot, it's very hot out here."  They responded "No, Max dep trai, dep trai."  Sorry ladies, a little… a lot too young.

Speaking of class, it is going way better than I had initially expected.  On our first day of teaching there were 24 students and ten teachers.  By Friday of that week, there were 62 students.  Word got out and it feels good, particularly because there are often prolonged stretches of time in class when the students stare at us blankly and I feel like I am sometimes talking to inanimate objects.  But, they are extremely smart.  They have the best memories I have ever come across; if you tell them a word and spell it out for them, they are sure not to forget it.  Granted, their pronunciation often needs readjustment, they communicate quite well for having taken little to no English and oftentimes they have learned the language only by reading and writing it.  When we were introducing names, we went around once and every student in the class could tell you every other students' name even though barely any of them previously knew each other.  I find this quite stunning.

The people here do not know the meaning of 'it can't be done.' I have witnessed some unthinkable feats of mental and physical fortitude.  I have watched: somebody ride through Ho Chi Minh City with a full size refrigerator strapped to the back of his motorbike,  elderly women walking miles in the blistering heat carrying heavy amounts of produce to and from the markets all-the-while covered in denim from head to toe (to protect from the sun),  a bus that was chopped in half horizontally be welded back together, a girl from our group (Thuy) thread my hammock in 2 minutes with a pair of chopsticks - it had taken me 45 minutes and I had still yet to finish.  In our construction project, we have not used any power tools nor any leveling devices - all the tools have been made from scrap pieces of metal, etc.  In order to bend steel, we fasten a piece of steel to itself and essentially use it as a wrench to gain leverage.  The only things that have been provided are shovels, a wheelbarrow, a steel cutter, and spatula like devices to smooth concrete, otherwise everything is improvised.  In order to make sure things are level, the builders tie strings around rocks and loop them into place, it is fascinating.  The project is going well, I think we were a little behind schedule last week, but the builders caught us up over the weekend, so the foundation is complete.  Now we are building up so that we can have a roof in place by week's end.  Every day I work until I reach physical exhaustion but I find this to be quite rewarding.  My body is just starting to get past the soreness; after the second day on the job, I could barely grip my spoon, much less chopsticks.  By the time we teach the students in the afternoon, I am running on synthetic energy, but the classes seem to flyby which is good.  From 6 AM (when we arrive at work) until 5 PM (when we are done teaching students) my days are a blur smeared by exhaustion and coffee.  I have become a regular at the Wifi shop that serves the meanest coffee in the world.  Often I am too tired to even do anything relevant on the internet, so I drink coffee while the restaurant workers either sleep or watch over my shoulder and smile approvingly and curiously at my computer doings. 

It is hard to believe we have been in Quang Tri (pronounced Wang Chee) for twelve days.  I feel like I have known these Vietnamese students - my roommate in particular - for the majority of my upbringing, yet I feel as though I got to this city yesterday, even though we have done so much in a short period of time.  The tightness I feel with these students, because of cultural differences, produces a line that is tricky to balance at times.  For instance, aside from 'Mushroom' (who is as crazy as I am), it is not acceptable to hug girls or have any contact with them.  Yet holding hands is perfectly acceptable by all.  Even flirting is often seen as distasteful, so at times it is hard to keep myself amused or, should I say, in check.

Other notes: The food is quite good, if you can get past the fact that it is ubiquitously unsanitary by American standards; I have been forced to overcome my aversion to seafood (often it is the lone source of protein) and have even developed a liking for shrimp, squid, and clams.  Even I didn't see that coming.  This next point might be contentious with Ian Rice (with whom I broke bread over some glorious meals in Cambodia), but the best meal I have had in Asia was hands down Banh Xeo last Tuesday.  Given a stipend we dined in a restaurant that initially terrified me.  The menu was a cracked board with 3 options, only one of which they were serving that night and the price was printed next to it on a sheet of paper.   I was convinced that we were the first visitors in quite some time and when the food arrived this suspicion was only furthered - it looked like it had been collecting dust in a closet.  To boot, they stacked all the plates on top of one another in the middle of the table, forming a mound of food that was overwhelming and nearly impenetrable.  The waitress however, rolled my first rice for me and this broke the ice, I proceeded to demolish my plate.  I will never be able to find this restaurant again but I highly recommend it.  Afterwards we drank this weird stuff named Che Buoy.  I picked about 7 ingredients, which seemed to be around the average, and my drink cost 8,000 Dong (about 40 cents), which apparently is quite pricey.  However, my drink included things which would go for exorbitantly more in the United States, namely the stack of pomegranates sitting at the bottom of my drink.  Possibly the most diverse dining experience came last week when we ate French Fries and Mayonnaise, with our chopsticks!

In other news, this past Saturday we visited the 17th Parallel and some underground tunnels among many other things.  The tunnels were stunning.  They only took twenty months to build, they spanned many kilometers, and nearly 400 people lived in them .  Other than the newly installed lights for tourists, they were pitch black, and the ceilings were about 54-60 inches high on average with walls that were about a yard apart.  I cannot imagine living in there for a day, much less 6 years.  They opened up into a beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean covered by bamboo and tree foliage.  Actually, the tunnels were so well hidden that after stepping out if them, it became practically impossible to locate where we had exited.

On Sunday I adventured to the local market on my own, which was quite the experience.  The first thing I saw was two old ladies fighting, one hitting the other to the ground with a meter stick.  When the fight subsided, the people around me snapped too,  and began laughing at the realization that there was a tall white man in the presence of this fight.  This obviously made me crack up and start cheering, which was met by more laughter.  It was quite the scene.  For the next half hour I walked around, constantly being followed and photographed, while making certain to not get caught eyeing any particular items - this would have caused a ruckus that I was not looking to stir. 

Side note: it is fun to be the center of attention in the bubble that surrounds me, and I would not have it any other way, but it can also be quite a chore at times.  As I zip by on my bike, there is a pretty constant flow of people eagerly asking my name and excitedly yelling "Hello." Not wanting to disappoint  any of these people I try always to respond,  but it is hard to engage of them, mostly because I would never get where I wanted to go.  It's like there's Paparazzi everywhere, except nobody, me foremost, knows why I am famous, so while I try and soak it all in, I cannot at the same time let it bog me down (if that makes any sense). 

For now that's it.  I will try and post more frequently so that these are not so long in the future and also so that the material is fresher in my mind.  Hen gap lai (see you later)!

Here are some more pictures to make up for my not having posted in so long:

Our Entire Group Outside of the Elementary School (Where we are building the bathroom)

Before Moving All of the Cinder Blocks

Me and Thuy

(From R to L) Phoung, Bao(from Duke Engage), Mushroom, Yours Truly, Toine (HS student - knows everything), Alison, Anonymous

After Dancing with the Vice Principal of the Elementary School at the Opening Ceremony

WiFi Hallelujah

It's even closer than I thought to the hotel we are staying in!  And only for the price of coffee - guaranteed to be the most delicious in the world, per usual.  Like anywhere else, you take your coffee black, if you're a man that is, but it tastes so chocolatey, bitter sweet, that there's really no need to even consider diluting it with milk.

I've been MIA recently, but I that's kind of the norm here in Vietnam, you drop off the grid for a few days until society tugs at you hard enough to rope you right back in.  But, I wouldn't have it any other way - kind of like how I am back at home anyways.  Anyhow, I am currently in the province of Quang Tri, as to the specifics, I probably can't tell you/ don't really know/ you wouldn't know,so we'll just move past the trivialities.  For those of you who don't know the history of Quang Tri, it was essentially the most devastated part of Vietnam during the war.  It was where the country was split between North and South and where America decided to say 'F*in A,' and then bombed away.

My roommate's name is Anh (which means brother) and he is the man.  In the roommate letter I received from him before we met up, he began describing his appearance and then frankly and truthfully wrote "Imagine an Asian boy, and that is what I look like."  Humor is quite humorous in Vietnam.  In one conversation about music with our Vietnamese counterparts, I was told "I like Flamenco music, do you know it?!" "I like pop music, have you heard this song?" (they all know it, but it is nothing any of the Americans have heard) "I like Celine Dion" "Who are the Beatles?" ... = GLORIOUS

Last night we had an opening ceremony (your boy made the opening speech - on behalf of the Dookies and myself) , which consisted of us, several people we are working with, and government officials.  Not only did we botch singing the YMCA reading it off a computer nonetheless - to the confused faces of Vietnamese people who could not quite understand how we knew our own pop culture so poorly - but we did it to some stoic looking faces.  However, these same stoic faces were also the must exuberant when it came their time to sing Karaoke, and they all sang Karaoke.

The days are as follows: breakfast is at 5 AM and you can get one of many soupy options, although Pho (which I highly recommend) is a staple here, or you can stick to the worldwide classic - an egg and cheese sandwich.  Breakfast aside, we eat rice, a lot of rice, and then we sit and eat more rice.  The food is delectable and served family style.  Today, we split into two teams and started our construction projects.  My team is building a restroom for an elementary school.  It is quite a bit further away than where the other team is building a parking structure, but the bike ride there is so beautiful that it's definitely worth the 15 lost minutes of sleep.  Then we have a 3 hour Siesta when I get to kick back in the hammock I set up on the patio outside our room, before it's off to teaching high school kids English.  This too is quite amusing.

See ya when you come visit, because I ain't leaving!  Hey! I do have tar on my heels after all, y'all!