Steven's Birthday Weekend

When Steven came home on Friday night, I made it about 15 minutes before asking if he wanted his present early (his birthday wasn't until Sunday). He said, "of course!" and I asked him to wait in the bedroom until I could put it together. After setting up the DVD player and queuing up "Raising Arizona" I told him to come out and pressed play. My week of comparison shopping was worth every second upon seeing his reaction and I knew I had done well.

The DVD Player came in handy as we planned to stay in Friday night because we planned to get up early the following day to watch both the Louisville football game and the debate if we could find it on television here.

Saturday morning, Steven woke up at 7:00 a.m. and watched the first hour of the game before I got up to watch the debate. To my delight, BBC Asia played the debate live in its entirely. After the debate and the game, we decided to take a nap before setting out on our afternoon of sightseeing.

We had a lunch of left over red curry vegetables and rice and then took the #1 bus on Tran Hung Dao to the center of the Dong Khoi district in District 1 at Pasteur and Le Loi. We had decided to go to combine a trip for groceries with some sightseeing at local temples. As we were walking along Le Loi one of the ladies selling snacks on the street caught me eying her waffles and reached out to hand me a sample. Having passed these waffle ladies numerous times and wondered what these thin, crispy waffles tasted like, I was intrigued. I accepted the sample and almost immediately she was offering me a sample of another snack of paper thin fried bananas, almost like a banana fruit roll up. While I was eating up my banana snack, she handed me yet another pastry looking thing, which was my least favorite of the three. By this time, Steven had wandered off not wanting to be accosted by the other touts who inevitably begin to hover the second you stop to look at someone else wares and the touts and legless beggars were closing in ;I had to make a decision fast and get out of there. I asked her for half a bag of the waffles, handed her a 10,000, handed 1,000 to the bagger and rounded the corner to catch up with Steven.

Our first stop was Veggies, a small upscale grocery store selling such western delicacies as Quaker oatmeal, Bisquick Pancake mix, Campbell's Soup, Nature Valley Granola Bars and to my insuppressible delight, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. After making our purchases, we consulted our map and charted our walk from where we were to the Jade Pagoda further north in District One. As we walked along, we found ourselves walking along a street lined with cute little restaurants and shops. As we walked along, I recognized one of the restaurants as one we had had dinner at the night Paula, another AIS teacher, found her apartment. One block later, we found ourselves passing the entrance to Paula's neighborhood. A few blocks later, we came out on the street where I had made my visit to the US Consulate and looking further down, we could see Diamond Plaza where we had watched, "Kung Fu Hustle" back in June 2005. It was neat to see how everything fit together and to put together a more detailed map of the city in our heads.

When we came upon the street where I had marked the Jade Pagoda on the map, we didn't see anything that looked much like a temple. Coming to the end of the street, I lamented not bringing our copy of the Lonely Planet with the exact address of the temple. We stood for a minute, looking out on to the adjoining street, Dien Bien Phu, a wide six lane highway with a concrete barrier separating the north and south bound lanes. As we stood there, I noticed a frail old man standing next to a food stand on the corner about 8 feet to our right. He pointed across Dien Bien Phu to the continuation of the road we were on, on the other side. He made an "A" (as in YMCA) with his hands and pointed up the road and back down, indicating that we would have to walk up to get to a spot where we could cross the barrier and come back down on the other side and we would get to the temple. I pointed across the street and he nodded. I smiled and thanked him in Vietnamese and we made our way across the street.

The temple was an old Taoist Chinese temple obviously still in use given the smoking sticks of incense and the numerous worshipers standing before each alter. We walked around the temple marveling at the exquisite detail of the carvings and trying to catch snippets of the tour given by a guide paid for by other visitors to the temple.













After our visit to the temple, we wandered back through District 1 and caught bus 54 back to our apartment. We had another early evening ahead of us because we planned to get up at 5:00 a.m. to be up and out for a 6:45 a.m. Fun Run through District 1 that we had heard about earlier in the week.

On Sunday, we woke up to our alarm at 5:00 a.m. and got up and dressed for the run. We caught bus 56 to the northern border of District 1 and walked over to the zoo where the race was to begin.

The entrance to the zoo, opened up into a huge green space with towering trees and well maintained landscaping. The entrance from the street opened onto a wide, paved path, leading to a stage set up at the far end. The path was line with booths of a few different charities and a majority of restaurant sponsors, including Highlands Coffee, a local Indian Restaurant and a frozen banana stand. Steven and I walked down to the stage where we ran into some other teachers from AIS and watched the dance/exercise shows being performed on the stage.

Ten minutes before the race, we made our way up to the front of the crowd, not wanting to get trapped behind any walkers. The group was primarily Vietnamese - Steven estimated about 5000 runners - but you could see a minority of western heads towering above the crowd. Without any other warning, we heard a loud sound and all of a sudden everyone was running. We took off and dodged our way out into the open.

We started out at a fast pace, but I soon settled into an easier pace and let Steven disappear into the crowd ahead. I have always loved the road races in Atlanta, where they block off the streets and allow you the freedom to run through streets normally clogged with traffic. Saigon was no different and it was neat to run by buildings and parks that have become familiar.

I finished the race a minute and a half or so after Steven and we met up and headed down the path to find some water. Once we had our water, we wandered further into the zoo and saw some African antelope-type animals and some small cats in smelly cages. Distress by the smell both for the animals and for ourselves we walked back out and joined the line for Indian food, where we were joined by Paula, who had also run the race.

After our breakfast of curried vegetables, rice and a mini-samosa we, went on to have some delicious frozen banana in coconut ice cream and some iced coffee from Highlands Coffee.

We went home after the race and took a nap before heading out again for some massages at a salon near our friends' home in District 1. Steven and I both got great full body 60 minute massages for a little over $2. I was in shock. While Steve was getting his massage, I splurged on a wash, condition, blow-dry and cucumber facial for about $2.80.

After our massages we went back home and dressed for dinner. We took bus 54 back to the street by the zoo and had a nice sushi dinner at The Sushi Bar for less than $25.

After dinner, we walked through Dong Khoi, walking by the People's Committee Building, which is quite a sight all lit up at night.

Finally we made it back to our apartment, exhausted, but happy; full of sushi and good memories of Steven's birthday weekend.


Seven and I with our race numbers.

Waiting for some curry and rice.

The frozen banana guy.

Cracking Bamboo

Thursday evening, Steven and I had plans to attend a free concert in the Conservatory. We had learned of the event and received our free tickets through staff at Steven's school. The performance was called Cracking Bamboo and was billed as an East meets West combination of traditional European percussion instruments with traditional Asian instruments. Both of us thought it sounded like it would be a good show and we headed out with high hopes for an enjoyable evening.

After talking up the convenience and reliability of the buses to Steven, I found myself standing with him at the bus stop for the 54 to Ben Thanh for 15 minutes. Not wanting to risk getting into a shady taxi (we think some of the drivers can manually control their meters, having ridden in one where the meter jumped 2,000 every few seconds, compared to a 2,000 jump every few miles or so in most cabs), but also not wanting to wait to long since we hadn't eaten and planned to eat at Pho 2000 before the show, we peered expectantly into the road as each set of bus lights appeared and, more often than not, turned the corner before reaching our stop.

Finally, our bus arrived and we hopped on for the ride to the Ben Thanh bus station. Having decided on the way to risk being late to the show, to avoid our enjoyment of the show being tempered by our hunger, we headed straight for Pho 2000, where Steven ordered his Vegetarian Pho and I, my Seafood Pho.

After dinner, we made our way over to the Conservatory of Music which we had passed on numerous occasions during our stay at the Lan Lan 2, and were pleased to find that the show had not yet started and that there were seats available in the balconies surrounding the concert hall on the second level.

To begin the show, a woman from the German Institute hosting the show came out and gave an introduction, followed by a translation of the introduction in Vietnamese for the majority Vietnamese audience. After the introduction, the performance began, not with percussion, as we'd anticipated, but with a European soloist singing opera-style from the balcony across the room from where we were sitting. Steven and I exchanged confused glances which progressed to more pained than confused as she belted out a staccato aria in a language we could not decipher.

This first piece went on much longer than we imagined was necessary for a concert billed as a percussion concert; the only percussion present, the dinging of a single bell in between verses. Steven and I passed the time whispering mystery-science-theater-esque commentary on the performance. When the first piece was over, the "Asian" part of the show came on and although they lacked the distinguishing soloist, they also unfortunately, lack pizazz and we spent the second performance guessing the identities of the few western members of the audience who favored people knew, careful not to talk so loud as to disturb our neighbors. The other couple from AIS made it half way through the third performance, which involved the opera singer dancing around somewhat ridiculously on the stage and hitting a drum back and forth with one of the drummers in what appeared more flirty banter between children than a professional performance. Steven and I persevered through a few more performances and agreed later that we enjoyed about 10 percent of the show, but were glad to have gotten out and done something different.

Birthday Shopping

On Friday, I planned to go down to Pham Ngu Lau, the backpackers are in District One to get some DVDs to go with Steven's new DVD player that I would give him that weekend. I had also planned to buy bus tickets for our trip to the beach at Mui Ne, but having heard of a 2K fun run on Saturday, we decided to stay in town for the weekend and do a little sight seeing.

Have spent a week in Pham Ngu Lau in 2005 and then two weeks in the Ben Thanh area, not far from Pham Ngu Lau, I have a fondness for this part of town and enjoy its familiarity and its convenience. I even like the smiley xe om guys asking "moto-bike?" every 10 feet.

I took the #1 bus down Tran Hung Dao to the southern end of Pham Ngu Lao and made my way down the street until I saw a selection of DVDs for sale. I didn't really have a specific movie in mind, besides Steven's favorite movie, Raising Arizona, which I very much doubted I would find because it is so old, so I just started perusing the new releases. Halfway through, I saw that they did have old movies in alphabetical order, in separate bins labeled "A-E," "F-H," etc. I went straight to "R," but didn't find the one I was looking for, so I went back to the new releases. As I was looking through the individual DVDs, I noticed box sets displayed up on a higher self. The one that caught my eye was a 12 movie collection of Cohen Brothers Movies including "Raising Arizona." I was thrilled, knowing how excited Steven would be, because the Cohen Brothers are his favorite directors and many of the 12 were on his top movies list. The woman at the store walked up to me quoted 80,000 (less than $5) for the set. Knowing I wanted it, but wanting to look more, I put it back in its place on the shelf and told her I wanted to keep looking. She then said, "tell me how much you want to pay and I will tell you if we can do it." Always one for a bargain, I said, "how about 50?" She shook her head and said, "No, she would never go for 50,000. She might go for 70." I said "okay," thanked her and turned back to the single DVDs. "Ok, they lowest she'll go," she said, referring to the woman behind the cash register, "is 60,000." Knowing that I had planned to get the set anyway, I said, "Okay, I'll take it" and took the set back off of the shelf. I picked out "The Sound of Music" and "Life is Beautiful" for myself and then paid for the DVDs before heading back out onto the street.

From Pham Ngu Lao, I walked back towards to Ben Thanh bus stop where I had found a great French bakery the week before and picked out some tasty rice donuts, a donut twist and looked at the cake selection for Steven. The cakes were over 200,000 ($12 US) which seems cheap in dollars, but is a lot in dong, so I settled for a piece of chocolate cake for 26,000, knowing that Steven would appreciate it and wouldn't want to spend 200,000 on a cake.

After making my purchases, I caught the #1 back home, where I spent 15 minutes setting up the DVD player and making sure that the movies would play. Once I was satisfied that everything was working, I hid it all back in the suitcase and waiting anxiously for Steven's return from work, so I could give him his surprise.

Productivity Redefined

On Thursday, I had a plan. And it went something like this. Take bus 54 to the park on Dien Bien Phu, walk over to the bike stores on Vo Thi Sau to see if they have bike pumps, from there walk to Pasteur where I saw those shops selling household items for a dust pan and brush, then on to Select Supermarket at Saigon Center for some spices. From there, I would walk to the bag store near Ben Thanh Market for that bag I'd seen, then over to the electronics store for the DVD player I picked out for Steven's birthday, then take Bus #1 to Tran Hung Dao near where our friends live to check out the cheap massage places, then walk over to Nguyen Van Cu Bookstore for some silver and gold pens for Steven's homework star board and finally home. I figured it would be a success if I managed to accomplish half of my list and that it would take me 4 to 5 hours to do it all.

I futzed around in the morning answering emails and straightening up the apartment and got out around noon, after a quick lunch of left over stir-fry.

I walked over to Nguyen Trai, one street over to catch the 54 and was soon on my way. The bus ride to the park on Tran Hung Dao takes about 15 minutes and once I saw the park, I made my way off the bus. I walked over to Vo Thi Sau, one street over and wandered down the street until I found a bike store. I walked into the first bike store I saw, took out the faulty pump we had bought a few weeks earlier and a spare tire tube, held them both up to the man in the shop and shook my hand in the rapid "so-so" gesture we have come to learn communicates something in the negative. In this instance, I was saying, "I have this pump and I have this tube, but I can't get the pump to blow up the tube."

The man took the pump from me immediately, nodding as if to say, "Yes, I understand completely." He then said something in Vietnamese to a boy in the shop, who disappeared into the back. While the boy was gone, the man looked at me and pantomimed cutting off the nozzle of the pump where it connects to the tire. The boy then returned with a pair of scissors and the man proceeded to cut the nozzle off of my pump. He then put the now nossleless end of the hose onto the tube stem and proceeded to pump air into the tube. After showing me how it worked, he handed me back both the pump, the tube and the dislocated nozzle, pantomiming throwing the latter in the trash before handing it to me. Because our problem had not been that we couldn't get the pump to pump air in the tire, but that it wasn't powerful enough to pump enough air into the tire to get 100% pressure, I continued our conversation. I held up the tube and held up my fist and squeezed it tight, trying to convey, "very very hard," and then pointed to the pump in my other hand with a questioning glance. The man pointed to an inflated tire on a bike nearby and felt it showing me how hard it was and then pointed to my pump and nodded. I smiled and uttered the first spoken word in our conversation, "Cam On;" thank you in Vietnamese.

After leaving the tire shop, I walked down to Pasteur towards the kitchen shops. The first shop had a small ironing board for 50,000 ($3.25), porcelain soup spoons for 8,000 ($.50) but they did not have a sweeping brush and pan, so I moved on to the next shop. The second shop keeper was much more opportunistic than the first and showed me a salt and pepper shaker for 140,000 ($8.50), resulting in my immediate departure from his shop. I was tempted to go back and buy something from the first guy just because he was fair in his pricing.

From the kitchen shop, I stopped for a woman selling rambutans, my favorite fruit for 12,000 a kilo, much better than the 30,000 a kilo they try to get near our apartment, and continued on to Saigon Center.

At Saigon Center I spent about $13 at Select Supermarket on rosemary, cayenne pepper, coriander, cumin, Thai green curry mix and some fresh basil. From Saigon Center, I walked over to the bag store near Ben Thanh and was disappointed to see that someone had purchased the orange bag I was hoping to find, but I settled on a black bag that was probably more practical for $10, a price I thought was a little high until I looked the bag up online and saw that it sells for $84!

From the bag store, I walked over to the electronics store and picked up the JVC DVD player I had picked out as a joint gift from my parents and myself for Steven the week before after days of comparison shopping, looking up player reviews online and asking my parents to check into their store of Consumer Reports.

I had hoped to put the DVD player in my bag, but it was too big to fit, so I walked across the street and boarded the #1 bus with my backpack purse, my new black bag and a big DVD box. I decided on the way home that I would go straight to the apartment and then head back out to Tran Hung Dao not wanting to walk all over with all of my bags.

Back at the apartment, I unlocked all of our locks, put everything down (hiding the DVD player in one of our suitcases in the empty room) and headed back out. I took the #1 bus back to Tran Hung Dao and got off near where our friends live. I checked into one salon where I found they offered 60 minute massages for $8 and then wandered down a bit more to see if there were others. Not finding any other shops, I stopped into what looked like a second hand clothing shop with clothes piled high on a big table in the middle of a small room not much bigger than our kitchen. I asked the girl if they were second hand and she said no, quoting me 40,000 (less than $3) for a shirt I had picked out. Having seen shirts for over 200,000 in the stores, I happily paid for my new shirt, before making my way to Nguyen Van Cu Bookstore and buying Steven's pens and a pack of candles for the birthday cake I planned to buy the following day.

After all that, I arrived home at 3:00, just three hours after I had left, quite pleased with my productivity.

List of Weird Things Continues

I keep forgetting to add to this and we keep seeing weird things, so I'll just throw them up here periodically. Keep in mind that the degree of weirdness various considerably and these are in no particular order.

1. The other day, as I was crossing the road, I saw what appeared to be two pairs of legs sticking straight up in the air from a passing motorbike. When I looked again, I saw a couple on a motor scooter carrying two female mannequins, split at the waist, torsos roped to the back, legs, upside down, feet facing the sky on the seat between them, as if someone was doing a handstand as they rode down the street.

2. From the bus the other day, I saw a man selling an electronic buffalo toy that walks, and he had it tied to a brick in the middle of the sidewalk, walking around and around and around.

3. The q-tips here have one round end and one really sharp pointed end. We haven't quite figured out what the sharp pointed end is for yet.

4. On Friday evening we were sitting on our balcony watching the action in the street and Steven noticed a man sitting on the street near to the sidewalk with his legs stretched out in front of him, a baby laying along his thighs, its head down by his knees. The man had shoes on his hands and was obviously paralyzed from the waist down. He was scooting himself backwards by lifting himself up with his arms, reaching backwards and then dragging his lower half along to come to rest next to his hands. He stopped to rest often, between each five or so "steps." As he scooted along the road, the baby is his lap shook with the movement, but did not otherwise move. The baby looked plump and healthy, but I am still not convinced that it was alive. Steven thinks it was just asleep. He had a hat sitting on his ankles, anchored by his feet and people came up and put money in the hat as he made his way down the street. It was one of the strangest and saddest things we have seen here so far. Surprisingly we haven't seen that many people begging in the street here. There are a few guys with no legs, walking around on their hands in the tourist districts asking for money and once I saw a child sleeping on the sidewalk in the middle of the day, but I see more people begging on the streets of Atlanta, Austin and Lake Worth, than I have here. But we haven't been here that long...

5. Last night, I was sitting on the couch typing up Steven's lessons as he created them from the book from his seat at the dining table. From my seat on the couch, I can look up directly at our front door. As I was typing, I noticed movement in the corner of my eye and saw what appeared to be the curved end of a black hanger being pushed under our door. I froze as, in my mind, I pictured one of our neighbors kneeling on the ground outside peering under our door, trying to hook our doormat with the end of their hanger. In the few seconds that I conjured this image, I remained staring at the hanger and then noticed that it wasn't a hanger at all but the black tail of a big rat. I immediately said to Steven, "Steven, there is a rat eating our garbage and its tail is poking under our door. Steven, a rat. There is a RAT!" Steven jumped into action, saying, "I see it!" and running up to bang on the door to scare it away. He waited a second and then opened the door, broom in hand, petrified wife watching from the hallway and snatched up the bag of trash we had left outside the door before shutting the door. "We won't be doing that again," he said, as he moved the trash to a corner of our living room.

My Taxi Guy is Great

There is a regular xe om guy who sits outside of our apartment building all day, who was for a week and a half, "my guy," who would talk me to the Elementary school each day, while "Steven's guy" would take him to his school. Since I haven't been going in the morning, occasionally "my guy," who I raved about the Steven for his patience, happy countenance, laid back demeanor and cautious driving style, takes Steven, and he is similarly pleased with his service.

Since I discovered the buses, I haven't been taking the xe om's in the morning when I go off to run my errands, but my guy still smiles and waves. This this afternoon, I was supposed to meet Steven after school to walk over to the gym and was running late, so I asked my guy to take me to "Le Hong Phong," the street where Steven's school is and he happily obliged. It was so nice to get on and know that I would get exactly where I wanted to go, for exactly what I wanted to pay because Steven pays 15,000d every morning.

When we got to the school, I got off, handed him his helmet and fished out a 20,000d bill. He looked at me and shook his hand in a gesture we've come to learn means, "no," or "I don't have any," or "I don't understand," or "I don't need to get off the bus here;" basically negating whatever is going on at the moment. In this case it meant, "I have no change for that." We sat that for an instant and I began to dig in my purse to see if I have exact change, before thinking, 'I should just give him the twenty.' When I looked up to communicate that, he looked at me and pointed up in the air indicating somewhere else. I immediately understood that he would give me the change when I saw him next at our apartment. I smiled and handed him the 20,000d bill.

When Steven and I came walking up the sidewalk after our workout and a brief stop at Saigon Supermarket for some coconut milk and snacks, my driver came running up to us holding out a 5,000d bill and said thank you to me in Vietnamese. My taxi guy is great.

If you want to reach us for any reason

We've finally figured out how to reach our cell phones from overseas (Thanks, Steven and Mom!)

I think most international phone cards are about 10 cents a minute, but there might be some out there for less. And if we're home, we can call you back on the computer for one cent a minute. If we don't pick up, you can't leave a message because we don't have actual phone service, just pre-paid minutes. We can get texts though, but I guess an email would make more sense...

Anyway..

For Sharon dial 011841234453656
For Steven dial 011841234452083

Weekend Plans

On Friday night, I was feeling better, but not up for a night on the town so we headed to Hung Vuong Theater to see Vantage Point. To our disappointment, contrary to what the website had said, Vantage Point was no longer playing, so we decided to see Mamma Mia. Both of us were pleasantly surprised, not thinking we would like it at all, and enjoyed our evening at the movies. After the movies, we wanted to get something to eat, so we wandered around the streets in our neighborhood looking for something enticing. Unfortunately all we came across were street restaurants with, presumably, no English menus, if they had menu's at all, and not yet quite up to sitting down and trying to say 'Vegetables' or 'Fish' in Vietnamese, nor wanting to eat mystery meat, we headed back to the chicken restaurant under our apartment. If nothing else, the poor quality of the chicken and rice at the chicken restaurant will drive me to learn the names of some of our favorite dishes in Vietnamese for the next time!

On Saturday, we went to a party given by three of our friends who are sharing a house. We planned to eat dinner in a different neighborhood given our experience the night before, so when the taxi dropped us off we headed down an alley we had been directed to by one of our hosts. The alley was lined with typical open front restaurants with a small grill on the street out front and a table of shell fish in different containers on a table in front of an open kitchen inside. When we turned down the alley, we were immediately waved into the first restaurant and decided to have a seat at one of the two tables available in the busy restaurant. Once seated, we were handed a menu with pictures and some English descriptions of various snails and shell fish. After a few minutes perusing the menu, we pointed at two of the few non-snail dishes on the menu, not exactly sure what we were ordering and sat back to wait for our meal. When the dishes arrived, we saw that we had a plate of about six clams, attractively prepared, topped with some type of cream and spices and another plate of oysters, again, topped with various spices, but without the cream. Steven immediately declared the oysters, the best oysters he had ever had in his life and I sat back and enjoyed the meal, happy to know that we would be back.

After dinner, we left the restaurant to find our friends' house. The house is in District 1, very close to the elementary school, down a street with lots of little restaurants and then down an alley leading into one of many residential mazes of alleys hidden throughout the city. The first floor consists of a kitchen, shared bath and living room with very high ceilings, revealing a balcony from a bedroom on the second floor of the house. The balcony has a curtain overlooking the living room, very much like a stage. During the party some of our new friends put on dance and musical numbers from the second floor balcony much to the amusement of the people below. The third floor houses two bedrooms and the third bedroom is on the fourth floor. Up yet another flight of stairs is a fifth floor outside balcony and on top of that is a roof top deck with deck chairs and a hammock and a great view of the neighborhood. It is a beautiful house and it was a lovely party and allowed us time to visit with teachers from both schools as well as some of the Vietnamese staff.

We left the party after three appearances by the police for noise (which was surprising as it wasn't a very noisy party, but may have seemed more so because of the amount of people in the house and the fact that the house has, not windows, but open grates to the outside) and motorbikes parked outside the house that were at risk of theft, and arrived home at 1:30 a.m., an hour before the Florida/Tennessee Game was set to air from Knoxville Tennessee. Since my technologically savvy brother has connected me to his Sling Box, we are able to watch his home television from our laptop, allowing my live coverage of the game. Once the game began, Steven made it about two minutes in, but I managed to stay up until the third quarter, waking up to check the final score of 30 to 6, Gators. During the game an announcer mentioned that Tim Tebow's (the Florida quarterback) siblings may be watching the game live on their Sling Box from Bangladesh.

On Sunday, I slept a lot and in the afternoon we went to the gym near Steven's school. It is 50,000d to use the gym on a single entry which is less than $4, much less than the $100 a month some of the teachers pay at another club. They gym is nice, nothing fancy, but with a variety of equipment in good condition and there is also a pool you can pay extra to use for the day as well. We'll have to take advantage of that another weekend.

My First Week as a House Wife in Vietnam

On Monday, I went to school for the first part of the day and left at 1:00 p.m., having fulfilled my obligations to the school and to the new teacher by way of orientation, and having had my last meal of tofu and mushrooms from the restaurant across the street.

I walked out of the school with a lighter step and the hit of a smile in anticipation of hours of freedom stretching ahead into the evening. On my way home, I stopped into a bookstore hoping to find some stickers that Steven had been searching for to use in his class. I wandered through shelves of books in Vietnamese and came out at a rack of greeting cards, in various shapes and designs. I spent the next 20 minutes looking through the cards, mostly hand made with pieces sure to fall off on an international trip, or hand painted, quite suited for a wall in our apartment. Having selected enough cards for upcoming events, I continued my trip around the store and browsed through shelves of souvenirs and home decorations at very low prices ("Wouldn't my Dad love that hand crafted model ship!? But how to get it home...?" "Those wooden puzzles are great. Do they have one in the shape of a dog for Kevin... No...). I purchased a few new pens and completed my purchase at the cash register. Forgetting that I had checked my bag at the counter at the entrance to the store, I walked out the side entrance and directly into a local food store, always on the hunt for new and different food items.

As I walked in, I interpreted the not-quite-approving looks on the shop girls faces as saying, "What could she possibly want in here? She won't know what anything is.." as they laughed to each other. I set about checking out the shelves like a shopper with a true shopping mission, determined to find something I needed to show these woman that I wasn't just a tourist passing by. To my delight, I found a new braided rug for the floor outside of the bathroom, a package of Tupperware, a scrub brush for the tiles in the kitchen and a spray bottle for ironing all together about $3.50. Followed by interested glances from the shop girls, I walked up to the counter and completed my purchase. After retrieving my bag from the first store, I spent the rest of the day sending out emails to local NGOs about possible open positions.

The following day, I spent a leisurely morning responding to emails and reading my book and then took a xe om over to District one to the U.S. Consulate only to be told that U.S. Citizen's services were only available from 8:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m. So I headed to Fahasa Book Store, my second stop, for a bus map of the city, determined to take a bus home. After purchasing my map, a wandered around looking for something to eat and happened upon a woman selling the sweet orange sticky rice I had grown fond of at our breakfast buffets. I bought a bag full for 3,000 dong or about 20 cents and found a shady spot on the curb to eat and figure which bus to take home.

On Wednesday, I got an early start and walked down to Tran Hung Dao street to get the number one bus to District One near the Consulate. After getting off of the bus and wandering around lost for 45 minutes, I found the Consulate, got past the guards with a copy of my passport, took a number, waited for 45 minutes and was then called up to provide our absentee ballot requests to the Consulate Staff to be mailed. I could have saved myself all that trouble, but simply mailing them at the post office, but I wanted to ensure that our requests were in US custody, to assure a more secure delivery, so I didn't mind the wait. Back in District One, I decided to wander around a bit before heading back and, more out of curiosity, than real desire, I stopped in for lunch at a Ga Ran Kentucky and left feeling like I'd spent way too much money (53,000d for a two piece and fries) for not so great food (although the chicken was a nice change from veggies and rice). After lunch, I did a little comparison shopping for a bag for me to take to work (thinking optimistically here) and I found a bright orange one that I loved for $10 and a more casual army green one for a little less.

By Wednesday evening,I started feeling the effects of a cold I'd picked up, so on Thursday my outings were limited to a bus ride from our apartment to the school to pick up my passport with my new 6-month work VISA (should I happen to find a job, I'll be ready!) and back. While there, I asked one of the ladies at the school to write "headache, runny nose, cold?" on a piece of paper in Vietnamese for me to show at the nearest pharmacy in the hopes of getting a decongestant. When I got off of the bus around the corner from our apartment, I walked up to the nearest pharmacy with my note and he looked at it, got a knowing look on his face and turned around to his shelves of medicine. He handed me a sheet of eight pills with word Panadol on it and charged me 10,000d. When I got home, I looked Panadol on the internet and learned that it was merely a "fever reducer." Back to bed.

On Friday, I still wasn't feeling so great, but I had a 4:00 meeting with a representative from the local Habitat for Humanity affiliate, so I rested in the morning and got all dressed up and was ready to head out by 2:00 p.m. Armed with my resume, references and a box of tissues, I took my now familiar bus 56 to Ben Thanh Market (near where our hotel was the first two weeks) and walked from the market to the Highland's Coffee at Saigon Center. Half an hour before my interview, I received a call from the woman I was supposed to meet, informing me that an emergency had come up and she wouldn't be able to make it until the following week. I assured her that it was no problem and headed back to Ben Thanh to catch my bus home. On the way, I treated myself to some orange sticky rice with sugar and shredded coconut and some donuts at a local bakery for Steven and myself that evening.

Our Landlords

Our landlords and their children.


Us with our landlords' family.

Steven’s Wild Ride

On most days, I have a pre-arranged xe om motorcycle driver to school for 15,000d or about 90 cents. It is about a 10-minute pollution-laden ride from our house to the school. There are only two turns and it is all main roads. It should be an easy ride. It typically is.

One day my usual driver chose to take Sharon to work instead and motioned toward a man he had arranged to take me. An old, small, frail man who looked like he was cheating fate was waiting near the curb. Although I wasn’t sure why this new arrangement was made (you never do), I reluctantly rode with him.

It was a dreary day, which always causes some consternation, in the sense that the drivers take no additional caution whether it is dry or pouring rain. In that regard it reminded me a lot of home, in that the reckless Atlanta drivers never adjusted their driving habits despite the conditions either. Immediately after leaving the curb, I begin having reservations about driving with this small and frail man. Firstly, his motorcycle seemed as old and frail as its driver, vibrating and shaking when it picked up speed. Secondly, the man never seemed very confident with his decisions on the road: how to weave through the traffic, which street to turn on, etc.

The first mistake he made was missing the shortcut for the school, which would have avoided the looming traffic jam a half mile ahead. As we approached the jam, the driver was, at first, content to sit in traffic with the other 200 million motorbikes on the road. However, being a taxi driver who, by nature, generally attempt to reach their destination as soon as possible, he noticed that drivers were riding on the sidewalk to avoid the traffic and felt obligated to follow suit. As soon as he began to make the move, I knew it was a bad idea.

To picture this, imagine a 6 foot, 160 lb western man riding on the back of a 110 cc motor scooter that should have been retired in 1992, driven by a 90lb frail old man about 5’3 in stature. Simply put, this is not a recipe for success. To reach the sidewalk one foot above road level, bikes must climb a curb that is roughly at a 45 degree angle. As the driver turned and began to climb the curb, he got halfway up and did not have the momentum to carry us up onto the sidewalk causing the bike to tip over onto the next bike on the road, creating a domino effect with four other bikes, ending only when the last bike hit a bus. Luckily, I put my food down in a two-inch-deep puddle of mirky water to catch our fall. The Vietnamese people near us, one-by-one, disentangled their bikes and pushed them up on the side walk. One woman next to us, whose arm had been gouged by the handlebar and was shaking her arm out, and no one seemed to happy with my driver. I had to wonder if there was not a white man in professional attire (I wear a tie) on the back of this driver’s bike, if the man would have be chastised much worse. He certainly deserved it.

Despite a harrowing near miss in traffic, we reached the school without further incident and as he drove off, I wondered if I would see him again the next morning.

The following morning, I was pleased to see my regular driver along with Sharon's regular driver AND the frail, old, feeble driver. I don’t think it surprised him that I resumed my schedule with my regular driver. I have never seen him since.

Welcome to the Blogosphere!

Teaching is hard. I didn’t need to come to Vietnam for that reality to be substantiated. Whether I was student teaching, teaching math to G.E. D students, or teaching as a Peace Corps Volunteer, it has always been hard and it will probably always be hard. However, it remains one of the most rewarding challenges that anyone could face.

Here in Vietnam, I am teaching five classes, 3 sixth grade general math classes and 2 seventh grade pre-algebra classes. As some of you may know, I thought that I would be coming here to teach social studies, but a week before we left I learned that there was a greater need for math teachers and I was switched to math. After initially being very disappointed, I accepted my fate, mostly because I knew the possibility existed and I maintain the philosophy that most things are what you make them.
One of the greatest challenges teaching at the school here is not what I’m teaching, but when I’m teaching, because of the schedule. The classes are 55 minute periods as opposed to 80 minute blocks I was used to teaching in Atlanta, thus it has been difficult for me to teach my lesson in that amount of time. To add to that, Thursday is “club day” in the afternoon which cuts 10 minutes off of each class. To further compound the difficulty for me, the class schedule is not a regular daily routine. Sometimes I may teach one sixth grade class three consecutive lessons, before I teach the next sixth grade class once. Since I am not organized by nature, this is a big hurdle. This job, for the first time in my life, will require me to become ORGANIZED. I have no choice: Organize or die.

So luckily, Sharon has agreed to aid me in my transformation from “unorganized, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants-and-hope-it-works” teacher to a more organized teacher. One thing that is better is math is easier to plan for then Social Studies.
The students here are much different than anywhere that I have taught before. They are much more obedient; although kids will still be kids and will try you and occasionally test my patience (they can get very noisy at times). However, they are the easiest group of students I have ever taught in that if I ask them to quiet down, they listen; when I ask them to call out answers, they are always quick with an answer, or an attempt at an answer if they are not sure; and they do their homework. Yes, you read that right. They do their homework! Last year, teaching in inner-city Atlanta, maybe one-third of the students turned in their homework. So far this year, 90% of the students have turned in their homework. They are motivated to learn and are extraordinarily gifted. A few of the students can do math in their heads as fast as I can. One often gets the questions right before me. And he’s 12.

The biggest challenge is that many of them do not speak English very well. It is sometimes difficult to assess if they understand me (I am trying to talk slower). The kids are 90% Vietnamese, but I have at least six kids from Korea, two kids from the US, one from the Czech Republic, and one from Germany. A few more students have lived in other countries. One of my students lives near me in District 5 (Sharon I were surprised by a “Hello teacher” greeting on the street).

When I was interviewed, I was amazed at how fast the school had grown, from 35 to 300 to 600 in two years. I have come to understand that as more Vietnamese people have become affluent opportunities for better schools have not kept pace. Thus, there was a waiting list at the other international schools. The government recognized and relaxed a cap on the percentage of Vietnamese that could attend schools such as ours. Since school started at least 10 more students have been added to our rolls.

As the year progresses I will try to write a few more nuggets and include some pictures. I will be running the Model United Nations club at the school, which presents opportunities for foreign travel. But, hey, you have to crawl before you can walk, so this is my official entry to THE BLOGOSPHERE!!!

My Last Day with 3C

Friday was my last day with the kids in 3C and I waited until the last minute to tell them that their new teacher would be starting on Monday. They took it well and were curious about their new teacher. "What is his name? Where is he from?" But some were a little disappointed and asked, "Why can't you be our teacher?" I explained that I wasn't a third grade teacher and that it would be better for them to have someone who was experienced as a third grade teacher.

After my announcement, we went down to the auditorium to celebrate Vietnam's Mid-Autumn Festival which would take place the following Sunday. I was sad to leave the kids but relieved to be freed to do other things and to seek out work which I was more qualified to do.


"My" Class


"Ms. Sharon (in her Specially Made Ms. Sharon Hat)

Mid-Autumn Festival Celebration

Our First Phone Call

With the establishment of our Yahoo! Voice account we are finally able to make international calls and my first call, since I had already talked to my parents on Skype, was to T-Mobile.

I brought my phone from Atlanta here to Vietnam, no so much because I thought I could use it, but because I want to be able to make calls from the airport before we left the U.S. But upon arriving in Vietnam, I learned that I can use my phone here, I would just have to contact T-Mobile to ask for permission to unlock my phone to other SIM cards. Easier said than done.

Without trekking all the way to the backpackers area in the middle of the night (when T-Mobile would be open in the States), I hadn't discovered any other way to make international calls. Everyone kept saying that they used Skype, but since we weren't able to add any money to our account necessary for PC to Phone calls, we could only call PC to PC. Finally I learned about Yahoo! Voice and after three days of waiting for my credit card to be verified and finally being able to put money on our account, we were set up to make international calls from our computer.

I called T-Mobile's Customer Service number and heard the familiar recorded voice on the line. Since I had no phone to dial numbers (and hadn't yet discovered that I could dial with a virtual keypad on the screen) I just yelled "representative" into my headset until I was put through to Customer Service.

I explained my situation to the woman on the other end of the line and she listened patiently finally explaining that the connection wasn't good and that she could only catch part of what I was saying. She asked me to give her my phone number, but with the spotty connection, 404-543-5381 became "4,4,4,4 yes 4. Zero, Zero. Zero. 4,4." "Ok I've got 404." "Now 5, 5, 5, 5. Yes 5....". It took me a few minutes to get the whole number across, but she was very patient and understanding. She went through some procedural questions about the reason for my request and the length of my stay. Then she asked me for a sixteen digit number on the inside of my phone. "1,1,1,1,ONE. Yes 1...". Finally the transaction was completed and she told me that I should have my password within 24 hours.

The next day, I went with Steven to buy a new SIM card. On Monday, during my break at school, I saw that I had received my password and was finally able insert it and unlock my phone. The first call I made was to Steven and it was so nice to be able to just dial his number and get him on the line. I remarked to Steven that after four and a half years, we were just now having our first cell phone conversation on our very own phones. It was a historical moment. Please welcome Mr. Jenkins to the age of cell phone technology.

A month in Vietnam

Steven and I have been in Vietnam for almost four weeks. Even as I write that my brain tries to wrap around the number. Has it really been four weeks? Has it only been four weeks? What day is it anyway? It has been difficult for me to keep track of the time here where day is night and night is day on the other side of the world. I plan to put a calendar up in the kitchen at home this afternoon.

When we arrived in Vietnam, our priority, besides sleep, was to get our bearings and, for Steven, learn more about his new school and his new job and, for me, to find a place to live. Once we found a place to live, we immediately began our respective teaching positions, Steven at his new job as a middle school math teacher and me, as a substitute for a new third grade class until a qualified teacher could be found.

Now, four weeks in, Steven is working on putting systems in place, learning how to teach things he knows, but hasn't taught before; trying to juggle teaching, the administrative work that comes with teaching, with some down time for balance. I am thankfully, now freed from my temporary position, with the arrival of the new third grade teacher this morning and looking forward to having some free time to seek out local Non-Governmental Organizations, register us to vote, figure out the bus system and find the closest spring roll cart to 147 Nguyen Tri Phuong.

In this time we have accomplished quite a bit; we've found an apartment, developed a relationship with our landlords, found a local market, found some good vegetarian restaurants, made some friends, located the schedule for HBO Asia and ESPN Asia (and managed to catch some of the Rugters game last week - no UF or LOU so far in VN), settled into our new apartment, and found our way back and forth to each school. But we still have a lot to do. We are hoping to begin twice-weekly Vietnamese classes this week or next, we need to register to vote (yes, I've said that already, but it is now top priority!), pick up a bus schedule (the buses are 3,000d to go anywere, about 20 cents), figure out how to receive calls on our cell phones, find a bike pump to pump up our tires, take our bikes for their maiden voyage on the streets of Siagon without getting killed or run over, get a moto-license, get away to the beach for a weekend and so much more.

So far the only detriment to being so far away from home is being so far from our friends and our families. We are hoping to figure out the phones and set up our web camera soon, so we can keep in touch on a more regular basis.

National Day, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

National Day of Vietnam is celebrated on 2nd of September. September 2nd in Vietnam symbolizes the August 1945 Revolution and Vietnam National Day. On this day in 1945 President Ho Chi Minh read the Declaration of Independence in Vietnam at Ba Dinh Square in Hanoi, proclaiming the birth of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam.

On the anniversary of this day, each year, the Vietnamese take a national holiday from work and dust off their Vietnamese flags.

Here are some pictures from this year's National Day Celebration.

Hello, I love you, won't you tell me you're name?

One of the things westerners of all stripes must get used to on the streets of Vietnam is the ubiquitous "Hello." You get it everywhere from everyone. It was amusing at first and I would smile and say "hello" back, but I've now learned that "hello" on the streets of Vietnam doesn't always mean "hello."

First, there is the "hello" from the xe om drivers, almost inevitably, but not always, followed by the question, "Moto?" and the accompanying "Vroom. Vroom" hand gesture in case you didn't catch their meaning from the word "Moto." This "hello" means, "Look at me. Let me take you to wherever it is you are going." For money, of course.

Then there is the high pitched "hello" from children in shops, on the sidewalk and riding by on their bikes. These "hello"s are often innocent and curious from children wanting to get a better look at the strange person walking by, but can also be mocking and not at all friendly.

Then you have the "hello" I've fast learned to ignore. The "hello" that comes from a group of men sitting in chairs facing out on the side walk or a group of people around a table drinking beers. Theses "hellos" are often mocking, or suggestive, the speaker hoping to get the attention of/a longer look at the strange person walking by. Yesterday, Steven got a "Hello. I love you" from one of these groups.

Finally you have the more rare of Vietnamese "hello"s, that born of a genuine desire to greet you or of a desire for a brief connection of greeting between strangers. This last one is my favorite.

Our Rich Neighbors

For the last eleven days, the total days we've been living in our apartment, Steven and I have gone shopping at Co-Op Mart almost every other day. We buy food for dinner, but we can't buy too much because our fridge is half the size of a fridge in the States and the food is fresh and has been sitting out so it doesn't last long if you don't cook it soon after you buy it. We've also bought things for the house: organizer drawers for the bathroom, voltage adaptors, a surge protector, hangers, spoons, a strainer, a colander, a trash can for the bathroom, etc. Each time we go, we walk by all of our neighbors sitting out in front of their shops or their stalls, or people at the restaurants on our street, with two big bags a piece full from the supermarket. I wonder what they think when they see us walk by. Do they think we have lots of money to go shopping every other day? Do they wonder who we're hiding in our apartment that we need so much food for two people? Or do they just not care at all one way or the other?

Fort Knox, Vietnam

Our new apartment is on the second floor of a wide, concrete, 8-story building with eight units, adjacent to another building of identical character. The building sits on a wide, busy street with a constant flow of traffic. It appears to be a more commercial district, with a hospital across the street and stores lining the first floor of the buildings on each side, than a residential one, but with residential alleys tucked between each building. It is clean and relatively well kempt, for Ho Chi Minh City. It would not appear, to the average visitor, to be unsafe. But there is a woman in our building who apparently thinks differently.

In order for Steven and I to leave our apartment, we have to first lock our front door. We then lock the accordion gate outside of our front door. Finally, we secure the padlock that secures the accordion gate to the side wall. After all this, we are merely outside of our own door. We must then walk down the stairs to the front door of our building, which is a big metal, padlocked double door. The door has a hole about four inches by four inches through which you can reach to reaffix the inner padlock once you have unlocked it, opened the door, shut the door behind you and re-latched it on the inside, from the outside. The first day we entered our building we joked about the tight security. Little did we know it was only to get worse.

Our first morning of work, we locked our door, our gate, our padlock; walked down the stairs and found not one, but three padlocks between us and the outside world. Unfortunately, we only had a key to one of them. After a few tense moments, Steven was able to get the attention of the woman we had see come up the stairs as we were heading down and convey the message that we were trapped inside the building with no way to unlock all of the locks.

The woman came down and took the keys for the locks off of her key chain and handed them to Steven. Not knowing how she would get out without her own keys, but understanding by her gestures that we were to take them, we set about unlocking all of the locks and let ourselves out.

That evening, after an early dinner, we came back to our building to find that the woman had again locked on three locks on the door. Now, in order to understand the complexity of the dilemma that we face on these occasions, you must picture the inside set-up of the door. The door is a haphazardly constructed door of metal bars, covered by an iron sheet that blocks your view of the inside except for two openings on the sides with limited visability. The iron plate has the afore mentioned four-by-four inch hole which allows you to reach in and open the lock on the inside from the outside. All of the padlocks are on the inside. The first, main, and in our opinion, only necessary, padlock is on the latch that opens the door, directly to the side of the hole. The second, extraneous lock is below the latch, and consequently, the hole, forcing you to reach through the hole and down to get to the lock. This lock is made all the more difficult by the fact that it is a square key with only one correct way to insert it, leaving you with four possibilities and that much more time standing out on the street. The third and final lock is the most difficult. It is positioned well above the hole and you need two hands to open it, so you have to plunge both hands through the hole up to your elbows an incredibly awkward angle, learning against the door for support and feeling your way, completely blind, to the key hole. This whole process takes about 5 - 10 minutes (or maybe just feels that way) leaving us vulnerable to the muggers who our paranoid neighbor is trying to keep out in the first place.

We are hoping to figure out her bed time so that we can be sure to leave the building after she has turned in for the night (which has been as early as 8:00 p.m.) so that we can unlock all of the locks and re-lock only the main lock to keep her safe until our return.

Why Vietnamese Women Wear Pants

For the first week of school, I wore pants. On Monday, I decided to wear a skirt. Only when I got downstairs and out on the sidewalk did I realize why most Vietnamese women wear pants.

Riding traditional style on a motorbike in a skirt is, if not impossible, very risqué, depending on how high you have to hike it up to get one leg on either side of the bike. In my case, traditional style wasn't an option because my skirt was of the wrap around, pencil straight variety and spreading my legs in any fashion was not an option. So I did what I had seen (very few) Vietnamese women do and got on side saddle with my feet to one side, feet resting on the same foot rest, and held on to the back of the seat for dear life.

Our initial take off was a little shaky and I kept imagining my skirt getting caught in the spokes of the wheel and me getting thrown off the bike, head first, on to the pavement just in time to be run over by the next mass of motorbikes. After a few minutes though, I gained a little confidence, tucked my skirt between my calves and loosened my death grip on the bar.

I found that riding that way can be both more interesting and more disconcerting. For one, since you are facing to the side, you have a full motion picture view of one side of the street and all the goings on. But conversely, you also have a full view of your feet which are pointing precariously out into the space which every other motorist wants to be in, giving you lots more material for your "thrown onto the pavement face first" macabre fantasies as you ride along.

I made it to school fine and didn't think about the life threatening characteristics of my wardrobe again until it was time to go home.

After school, I decided to stop by a new grocery store to see what exciting things they had on their shelves. I walked home with some other teachers and they pointed me to the CityMart near their home. After spending 45 minutes or so marveling at all the interesting products on the shelves (and being horrified as I watched a roach literally climb out of a potato I was about to select), I decided it was time to head home.

With an arm load of papers to grade and two grocery bags, filled with vegetables, juice, cheese, crackers, eggs and banana chips, I headed out for the long walk home.

Walking in the rain, burdened as I was with an armload of papers and food, still thinking that it might not be time to test out my just-now-feeling-better foot, I decided to take a xe om driver up on his offer to take me home.

He put one bag of groceries on earth handle bar, handed me a helmet and waiting as I secured it, jumped on side saddle and tucked my skirt. As he took off in the rain, grocery bags dangling, across a lane of oncoming traffic, I watched a bus ride within inches of my bare toes and thought, "if only my Mother could see me now."

AIS Grade 3C Continued

By Friday, I felt I had gotten the hang of the third grade teaching thing and was enjoying myself and the kids. It was fun to come up with things to keep them amused and learning. On Monday, I gave math and language arts assessments and planned for Tuesday. I enjoyed grading the assessments and seeing what they knew and what they still needed to learn.

I found myself taking notes on the kids to give the new teacher:

Jorge* often seems as if he is taking a much longer time than it should to do his class work, but if you look closely, you will see that he has five first drafts of his work hidden in his desk, he wants everything to be neat.

Matthew is very smart, but is easily distracted and often acts up when he gets bored. He needs to be kept busy and stimulated. He likes to help the teacher and loves to cut things out.

Shelly has a very low level of English proficiency, so she often looses interest or fails to follow directions. She needs targeted, directed assistance with extra ESL content. She loves math and is very good at it. She also likes drama.

Anne is extremely smart and well behaved. She wants to please the teacher and will always raise her had to answer questions. She is often finished with her work early and likes to read silently or have other challenging work to do.

Michael is also extremely smart and well behaved. He seeks out independent study at age 9 and always wants a challenge.

Matt is quiet and often appears bored and uninvolved. He needs direct encouragement to become involved, but will step up if encouraged.

And so on...

When I learned Today, Tuesday, that the new teacher had accepted the job and was scheduled to arrive on Saturday, I was immediately a little sad, but then, once it sunk in, I was relieved that the kids would have someone to take over who was capable of really teaching them and handling all of the kids at their different levels. I was also happy to know that next week, I can get back to the business of taking care of general life things like learning Vietnamese, finding out how to get a drivers license, registering to vote and finding a job (or volunteer work at the least) in my field.

I am grateful for this experience and glad that I accepted the temporary position. It was a real learning experience and it turned out to be much less painful than I had initially imagined!

*Not their real names.

Ms. Sharon vs. The Kids: Round 2

On Wednesday evening I learned that the teacher they had offered the position to had turned down the job and they wanted me to stay for another week. I agreed out of guilt and a sense of obligation to do the right thing and then spent the evening in a black cloud grumbling about how I didn't like kids in groups and wasn't a teacher and had so much else to do instead of being stuck in a classroom and I had a bad foot and shouldn't be on it all day, grumble, moan, self-pity, grumble. Poor Steven had to listen to me all night.

When I woke up the next day, I hadn't quite shaken the cloud, but I dragged myself out of bed and out to the sidewalk to catch a xe om to school.

My initial plans for the second day included reviewing the rules and handing out more "getting to know you" worksheets. The first one was "Things I did Last Summer" and the other was "This School Year" where students could put what they wanted to learn, their favorite subject, etc. The rule review went well and afterwards I introduced my "Classroom Super Star" poster, which got a lot of attention.

After the worksheets, I decided to get them out of their seats and explained a vocabulary building game I had found on line the day before. I had seven vocabulary words from the social studies lesson the day before written out in two syllables, one syllable on a different piece of paper, totaling 14 pieces of paper. I taped a piece of paper on each student's back and kept on for myself. I then explained that they couldn't look at their own back's, so would have to put the words together using the word parts on other students' backs.

The kids ran around looking at each other's backs for a minute or two, but weren't quite sure how to put it together, so I jumped in with a hint. "I have "C-U-L" on my piece of paper. What word did we learn yesterday that starts with C-U-L?" Silence. "How about CULTURE? Who has T-U-R-E on their back?" Once we found the first pair, they caught on and it was more fun. Unfortunately, with only 13 kids, it lasted about 10 minutes.

After the word game, I gave them all word puzzles to do at varying levels of difficulty. I had three, the first being the easiest and so on. I asked them to quietly raise their hands when they were ready for the next one. Fifteen minutes later, they had completed all three and I still had 35 minutes left in the language arts portion of the class. I decided to sit them down and read a few books, which got us to the end of the hour.

Next I introduced the math lesson. I asked them to think of all the ways they would use math when they were grown up and on their own. We came up with a list including counting money, shopping, weighing things, travelling, etc. I then had them make Math Posters, asking them to draw whatever they thought of when they thought of math. After a little more explanation, they went to work.

While they were making their math posters, I googled an easy Sudoku puzzle on line and ran off 13 copies (I am all about the fun worksheets). When I returned to the class, I noticed that the lines on the puzzles had not come out on the copies, so for the next 10 minutes, I had the kids drawing the lines in the puzzles until it was time to go to Computer class.

While the kids were in their computer class, I tried to do the Sudoku and found it almost impossible. I decided to scrap the whole thing and find an easier puzzle. I just hoped the kids didn't ask where their puzzles went and why they had wasted 10 minutes drawing lines.

After lunch, it was time for Social Studies. I was introducing the "Eight Strands of Social Studies: Culture, Economics, Government, Geography, etc.," and defining each strand, when I caught myself on "Government" saying, "In the United States we have a Democratic Government and in Vietnam you have a Comm....." (mental dialogue, "Oh Damn. I am in Vietnam! Crap! What am I getting myself into?) "...unist government." Followed by the inevitable, "Ms. Sharon, what is a commernist governemnt?" "Um, well, er, eh..a Communist Government is one where the government has a lot of power to take care of the people." "Oh." Whew.

We then went over communities and the definition of a community. We talked about what things you find in a community and I assigned the homework, to read the first few pages of Chapter One in their book on the community of San Antonio, Texas (using US Text Books in Vietnam is a little surreal) and make a ven diagram of HCMC and San Antonio listing the similarities and differences in each community. They used up half an hour just copying the list and the homework off the board. (Note to self: copying things off the board takes up lots of time.)

Finally it was time for Vietnamese and I was able to pat myself on the back for another day without any real drama. I even came out with a card from two of my female students that read: "Dear Ms. Sharon. Welcome to AIS School. We all love you. You are very kind. We are very happy that you are our teacher. You are good teacher. You are so creative and smart. Your birthday is we birthday. You know. You are very nice."

Maybe kids aren't so bad after all.

Steven's Experiences

I have asked Steven if he wanted to post his experience and he says he does, but he is busy now with new teacher duties. I could post his stories, but I would rather he tell you them himself. Stay tuned for posts from Steven.

International Calls

Steven bought his very first cell phone a few weeks ago and now accessible anytime, any where. I, on the otherhand, haven't figured out how to get in touch with T-Mobile to unlock my SIM card, yet, but plan to do it next week. Then we will actually be able to call each other on the go. Very exciting.

Steven's number is 01234451083, but we haven't quite figured out how you would call that from overseas. I found this on line:

Instructions for Calling to Cell Phones in Vietnam

For calls to Vietnamese cellular phones, a 2-digit code must be dialed in place of the area code. This 2-digit code always begins with 9, and the second digit depends upon the cellular provider. These cellular codes include the following:

• 91(Vinaphone)
• 90 (Mobiphone)
• 98 (Viettel)
• 95 (S-phone)
• 96 (EVN-Telecom)

If calling a Vietnamese Vinaphone cell phone from abroad, you would then dial 011-84-91-xxx-xxxx. If calling the same cell phone from within Vietnam, you would include the required 0 and dial 0-91-xxx-xxxx.

According to this, if you want to get in touch with us, it looks like you would dial - 011-84-91-445-2083, but of course I could be wrong.

We'd love to hear from you if you have the time and the money for a call. Remember we are 11 hours ahead.

Let me know if you try and it doesn't work. Talk to you soon!

Pitures of 147 Nguyen Tri Phuong

Our Dining Room


Our Living Room Sectional Sofa (not as comfy as it may appear)


Our Entertainment Center


(Gated doors to our balcony - making it seem like we live in a much shadier area then we do - with our burgandy drapes).


Our bed and head board (Go Gators!)


(Our Armoire)


Our Guest room waiting to house our many guests from the states...


Our "Thai-Style" bathroom


Our Kitchen


Our Storage/Workout/Laundry Drying Room


Clothes drying on the cage around the balcony off of the storage/workout/laundry drying room.


(Our washing machine)


Our first art purchase for our new home.

Ms. Sharon

The first day of school, I came in early to be sure I had everything ready. I gathered supplies to make name tags, I copied my class list so I would have everyone's name and I gave myself what would become my pep-talk for the day,
"Only three days. Only three days. They can't kill you in three days."

My students began to arrive at 8:00 a.m. and as I hadn't made a seating chart, they just put their books down on a desk and went out again until class began. My class consists of 13 students, 4 boys and 9 girls - a manageable number. Once they were all in class and seated, I introduced myself and asked how many of them were new to the school this year. Two students raised their hands. I then explained that we would be playing a game to try to get them to remember each others names, a game I had been taught by another third grade teacher.

The students gathered in a circle and I explained that they should say, "My name is" and state their name and then say, "And I like to..." and state their hobby. They would then make a movement that represented their hobby. Each consecutive student would then repeat what their neighbors had said before introducing themselves, leaving the last person in the circle with 12 people to remember.

The boys immediately began complaining. "We are at the end. We'll never remember all of that." The girls were so quiet, I could barely understand their names. We got halfway around the circle before I acquiesced and told them that they could just introduce themselves. We finally made it around the circle and everyone looked at me expectantly with unsmiling faces. Kids 1. Ms. Sharon 0.

Next I had the kids go back to their seats and told them that we would be creating name tags for our desks. I asked them to get out their crayons and markers and showed them how to fold their paper in threes so that it would stand up on their desk. The happily got down to work. Kids 1. Ms. Sharon 1.

After they made their name tags, I told them that we would be making up our classroom rules. I asked them if they knew what rules were and why we needed them and got some intelligent answers. I then asked them to give me some rules for our classroom and they all participated and called out rules while I wrote them on the board. Kids 1. Ms. Sharon 2. I was getting the hang of it.

Then I had the kids fill out worksheets entitled “All About Me” which listed their names, hobbies, favorite things, etc. I thought that it would be fun for them to switch papers and introduce each other. But again, the girls read so low that you couldn’t hear them, even when I asked them to speak up. The kids got restless, so I cut it short. Kids 2. Ms. Sharon 2.

After the 10 minute morning break, I divided the kids up into teams and told them that we were going to play another game, also taught to me by the other third grade teachers, called “Math Trashketball.” I divided the kids up into four groups and pulled up the questions on PowerPoint on the overhead (each classroom here is equipped with a projector mounted to the wall that automatically projects what is on your screen onto the board when you turn it on.) The kids knew all of the questions and it was soon apparent which students were better in math. They enjoyed the competition and trying to throw the ball into the trash basket and most importantly for me, the activity lasted a whole hour.

After Math, it was time for computers and I took the kids down and left them in the lab with their computer teacher. After computers, we had lunch so I was free from 11:00 to 12:50 p.m.

I spent my lunch hour preparing for the afternoon and walking across the street to a local restaurant for a tasty lunch of mushrooms, tofu and rice, which I ate with the other teachers in the teachers lounge.

Because the new third grade was put together at the last minute, the P.E. class schedule could not accommodate them all at the same time, so they are divided into P.E. A and P.E. B, which means, instead of another planning period, I have half of my class for an hour and the other half for an hour on different days. Wednesday, was P.E. for group B.

During my lunch hour, I had wandered down into the office to see if there was a list of students for each group, and was told that I could decide. Just send half of them today and half of them next time. Excited, I happily drew up a list of the rowdiest kids and sent them off to P.E.

While group B was in P.E. Group A was in my class and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. I started off by playing Simon Says, which lasted all of 5 minutes and was then left with 40 minutes to try to fill. Half of the three wanted to play games, while the other half wanted to color and read. I decided on the latter. Kids 3. Ms. Sharon 2.

After P.E., I set about explaining a Social Studies game called “Oh Deer,” which teaches the kids about habitats and animals’ need for food, water and shelter. The teacher chooses two students to be the deer and the rest of the class lines up against the wall and decides whether they are food (hands on their stomachs), water (hands at the mouths holding a “glass”), or shelter (hands making a “roof” over their heads). The deer, with their backs to the group, also decide if they need food, water or shelter and make the accompanying gestures. They then turn around and grab the “item” (person) that they need and bring them back to their side, resulting to two more deer. The teacher then explains that the deer were able to reproduce because there was enough food, water and shelter to meet their needs. Then the process repeats until there are more deer than resources and the deer that can’t meet their needs, go back to the other side of the classroom and “die” and become resources again.

I loved the concept of the game when it was explained to me, and it went well at first, but when we got to the point where there were more deer than resources, it was chaos and no one would admit to being a dead deer. So it fell apart. I summed it up hoping that they would retain some of the lesson of the game and resorted to having them do what I had planned to give them as homework as class work, since the game, which I had planned to take all period, only lasted 15 minutes... Kids 4. Ms. Sharon 2.

The last period of every day for my class is Vietnamese, so happily at 2:40 p.m., I left them with their teachers and set about writing up the rules poster, making a “Classroom Super Star” poster to encourage good behavior and planning for the next day. “Only three days. Only three days…”