Wait, It's Raining?

After returning from my trip to Hue this past weekend, I began my second job. Aside from teaching English on Saturday and Sunday mornings and substituting during the week, I am now working for my friend Abbie. She runs classes for young children at a nice country club, Parkland, about a 25 minute motorbike ride away from my apartment. The classes utilize games and exercises in order to strengthen the kids as well as improve their balance, speed, hand/eye coordination, and footwork. I've already been trained, co-taught two classes, and been heavily involved in the planning for this week's classes. We still have to sort out my hours so that I can teach English as well as teach with Abbie.








It's odd because this country club is right next to a giant Vietnamese highway, filled with rumbling trucks and packed with motorbikes. It is not my idea of Viet Nam at all and even seems out of place.

Since DiDi has been in Ha Noi for the week attending work meetings, I have been left to my own devices. I have rediscovered poetry and I have just finished one on Vietnamese coffee. I have to take the photos to accompany the poem and I should post it here tomorrow. The little projects keep me busy and keep me from getting homesick. You camp counselors know exactly what I'm talking about. :)

On Thursday I began substitute teaching for a couple fourth and fifth grade classes. They're very talkative, creative, and a lot of fun. One of the fourth grade classes was paired off and told to create dialogs about being sick. A couple of the boys presented their dialog to the class and it featured the phrase "go to Hell." I was stunned and explained to them how shocking that was for me. It's difficult for them to know the gravity of their language because they are not living in a predominantly English speaking country. They now say "rest in peace," which is much more politically correct. I even had to teach a class about circles--circumference and diameter. Needless to say, I needed to study up before teaching them. I didn't remember how to calculate that information at all.

In addition, two of the classes are currently doing an English unit on camping. Of course when I began to prepare the lessons I was so happy that I almost peed myself. One of my students asked about "cooking" marshmallows and I was more than happy to expound on the roasting process and s'mores. When I mentioned that sometimes the marshmallows catch on fire, I saw the kids miming shaking their marshmallow stick in order to extinguish the fire. This is highly entertaining because one of the Camp Washington fire rules is not to shake your burning marshmallow but instead to calmly blow it out. Shaking it only results in a possible burning ball of napalm-like sugar in the direction of a fellow camper or counselor's face. Don't worry, my students understand now. And I didn't mention the napalm as I usually do in America. It's a touchy subject in this country.

Other than teaching in the afternoons and this morning, nothing else is new. I met some friends at Trivia Night at Le Pub on Tuesday (we almost won) and I also met friends at a cafe last night. On Monday night, I attended rehearsal with the International Choir and then we all went out for drinks. I met a guy who used to be a Catholic monk and then married a nun. I told him that's not how it usually works. Surprisingly, the movie "Australia" was pretty good. It was a bit long but enjoyable nonetheless.

Other than that I've been taking some photos, keeping in contact with people over the internet, and trying to stay cool. Every night it's at least 90 degrees fahrenheit in my room. Gross. And all of the skin on my shoulders and upper back is peeling from the horrible sunburn I received in Hue. There is now sunscreen (SPF 50) right by my front door. I lather up before going out into the sun for more than 10 minutes. Maybe the Irish weren't meant to live in tropical climates.

This afternoon, however, I grabbed some lunch and a coffee and headed to the market. I needed to find some ropes for JP's hammock, which I plan on setting up on our balcony. What's better than a hammock on a balcony? Anyways, I got to the market and decided to wander for a bit. The market is very close quarters and two people can barely move squeeze through one aisle. The market vendors are eating, sleeping, tending to children, etc. and the place is always a flurry of activity. The closest market to me is Tan Dinh Market and it's right across the street from my alleyway. It's mostly a fabric market but also has the standard food and cooking utensils as well as shoes and clothing. I took photos, spoke to people in Vietnamese, and even saw the old guy who sells lottery tickets that I've seen all over our neighborhood this week. He always catches me eating lunch and dinner as well as drinking my coffee at the same places.



So everything was awesome in the market and then I hear the easily idenitifiable sound of rain. Rain? Now? Since this is the midle of the summer, it doesn't rain until May or June, when it rains every day. I decided to wait inside the market until the rain let up. Little did I know that everything would get worse, not better. I found my hammock rope, took some photos and spoke to some people about the odd weather, and then found myself wanting to walk around the corner to my apartment. It was pouring, however, so I bought a paper-thin plastic poncho and moved to the exit closest to my apartment. When I finally made the decision to abandon the temporary tarp rooves, however, I was unprepared for the flash flood that lay before me. I saw a city bus and four motorbikes and knew they couldn't stop or go around me so I waited until they had all passed by before I crossed the river/street. The water was swirling around my upper thighs and it was intensely dirty water. The streets are heinously dirty and that same water was covering the lower half of my body. Giant cockroaches, caught in the strong current of rainwater, rushed past my legs like little boats with antennae. It took me almost a full 10 minutes to wade back to my apartment, which was awesome. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE this kind of stuff. This is why I live here-- the unpredictability of every day life and the constant learning.

I arrived home, somehow found my key under my cheap poncho that had already ripped just behind my left arm, and entered my dry apartment. With a dark sky and the only sound being the onslaught of rain, I hung my clothes to dry and ate some fruit while listening to the only real quiet I'd heard in a long time. Abbie called just before I had to leave to meet her (even though I was pretty sure I wasn't going to be able to make it to work-- no one was going anywhere in this city) to say that Parkland, the country club, was flooded. So I've taken that opportunity to write this blog. I also cleaned out my bag and my room. Productive afternoon. :)

As always, here are some of the photos from this week.


Yes, there's a small Vietnamese woman underneath that hat.






I meant for this to be blurry. Just a heads up. :)


This is one of my favorite Vietnamese desserts. It's called che (not like the crazy Hispanic freedom fighter) and it is basically sugar water, some type of fruit, and sometimes sweet and condensed milk (or sua). Costing only the equivalent of ten cents or so, the banana and corn are my favorites.























The streets have almost drained so I'm off to find some dinner. I'll post the poem and photos tomorrow. Miss you all...