Exotic Tree
Exotic Flower on Exotic Tree
Giant Lily Pads
Steven in his Rude Boy pose
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
A Glimpse into Viet Nam's Wedding Machine
After Steven and I left Binh An village, we decided to check out another of Than Da island's attractions - Binh Quoi Tourist Village - or what might be more aptly named - Wedding Picture Central. Binh Quoi Tourist Village is like Disney World for Vietnamese Brides. It is luxuriously landscaped and dotted with every imaginable backdrop for the ever popular Asian wedding picture albums which consist of the happy couple posed in multiple outfits in multiple locations from the branches of trees, to old rustic doorways, to boats, to swings, to a faux American west backdrop complete with antique guitar. While the expanse of manicured lawn teeming with brides-to-be felt a bit surreal and otherworldly to Steven, he humored me and dutifully accompanied me through the park as I shamelessly snapped picture after picture of beaming bride.
An Afternoon Outing
Between paying rent plus two months deposit our rental house in Viet Nam and sending money home each month for the mortgage on the house in Atlanta, Steven and I have been living quite frugally since we arrived in Viet Nam in August. Part of this frugal lifestyle involves many weekends at home while our friends are out seeing the country. Granted that many of the places they are visiting, we have visited already, but it is less the need to see, than the need to get out of the city that starts that telltale itch.
Last weekend, we decided to take an afternoon to explore a part of HCMC that we hadn't explored yet. Asia Life, our local expat magazine, had an article on Than Da island, in a district just 20 minutes from our house. Though Than Da island is not quite what one thinks of when one thinks of an island, it is still - technically - an island, being a landmass surrounded by water - that water being the Saigon River which snakes its way around this particular parcel of land separating it from the surrounding city by short bridges. While neither palm trees, ocean, nor while sandy beaches appear anywhere in Aisa Life's description of Than Da island, it does say that upon entering it is possible to feel "miles away from the city" while, in reality, only being minutes away. For me, this was the most attractive part.
On Saturday morning, we set off in search of something new. According to the article Than Da island is home to many local restaurants and resorts, so we set about to find the one that sounded most appealing - Binh An Village. After a short 15 minute ride, we found ourselves on Than Da island and not long after pulling into Binh An Village. We were immediately impressed with the immaculate landscaping, the tasteful decor and most importantly, the quiet serenity of the river front. We happily whiled away a few hours having lunch and exploring the grounds, enjoying our new found escape from the city.
Last weekend, we decided to take an afternoon to explore a part of HCMC that we hadn't explored yet. Asia Life, our local expat magazine, had an article on Than Da island, in a district just 20 minutes from our house. Though Than Da island is not quite what one thinks of when one thinks of an island, it is still - technically - an island, being a landmass surrounded by water - that water being the Saigon River which snakes its way around this particular parcel of land separating it from the surrounding city by short bridges. While neither palm trees, ocean, nor while sandy beaches appear anywhere in Aisa Life's description of Than Da island, it does say that upon entering it is possible to feel "miles away from the city" while, in reality, only being minutes away. For me, this was the most attractive part.
On Saturday morning, we set off in search of something new. According to the article Than Da island is home to many local restaurants and resorts, so we set about to find the one that sounded most appealing - Binh An Village. After a short 15 minute ride, we found ourselves on Than Da island and not long after pulling into Binh An Village. We were immediately impressed with the immaculate landscaping, the tasteful decor and most importantly, the quiet serenity of the river front. We happily whiled away a few hours having lunch and exploring the grounds, enjoying our new found escape from the city.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
A Day in the Life of a Korean Housewife in Viet Nam
My friend An had asked me to accompany her to her massage parlor a few weeks earlier, so this Tuesday, I decided to take her up on her offer. An is a former student of mine, married, with two young daughters, to one of the many Korean men employed by one of the many Korean companies doing business in Viet Nam. An's family, like the majority of locally employed Korean families, is set up in a nice serviced apartment, complete with a regular cleaning service and a driver. The company pays their bills as well as covering the expenses for their daughters education in one of the highest rated International Schools in the city. All in all, a pretty nice package.
An spends her days, after preparing breakfast and getting her husband and children off to work and school, enjoying her leisure time having massages, lunches, shopping with friends and the occasional golf outing, a popular pastime among Korean women in Viet Nam.
On our agenda today was lunch and a massage.
I left for An's around 9:45, her apartment now being within walking distance from our neighborhood and met her at her apartment where we spent some time catching up before leaving for our 11:00 spa appointment. On the way down, An called her driver and asked him to meet us at reception.
An's driver chauffered us to her massage parlour - what I may soon come to consider MY massage parlour at less than $4 for an hour long hot stone massage in a real spa - where we luxurated in the relaxing atmosphere of the spa for a soothing 60 minutes of pampering.
After our massage, An called her driver, who again appeared from wherever it is he spends his time between appointments and scooped us up to bring us to one of An's favorite Chinese Restaurants. She had suggested a restaurant that she said, "I find alright, but westerners seem to like," but happily directed her driver to the Chinese option after I begged off any place that "westerners seem to like," prefering to be taken to her favorite Asian spots.
After a lunch of wonton soup, seafood fried rice and delicious shrinp dumplings, An's driver again picked us up, only to drop us off around the corner at Annam, one of the city's gourmet grocery stores which sold the organic vegetables and cleaning supplies that An and I had been discussing over lunch. Once inside, An made a few small purches and I picked up one of my new favorite sweet treats in Viet Nam - an almond pastry bar.
As we were riding back to my house where I was to be dropped off before An left to pick her girls up from school, both of us munching happily on my almond pastry bar, I thought to myself, that while I wouldn't ncessarily want to live the encapsulated life of a Korean Housewife in Viet Nam, I wouldn't mind tagging along on a few more outtings like today.
An spends her days, after preparing breakfast and getting her husband and children off to work and school, enjoying her leisure time having massages, lunches, shopping with friends and the occasional golf outing, a popular pastime among Korean women in Viet Nam.
On our agenda today was lunch and a massage.
I left for An's around 9:45, her apartment now being within walking distance from our neighborhood and met her at her apartment where we spent some time catching up before leaving for our 11:00 spa appointment. On the way down, An called her driver and asked him to meet us at reception.
An's driver chauffered us to her massage parlour - what I may soon come to consider MY massage parlour at less than $4 for an hour long hot stone massage in a real spa - where we luxurated in the relaxing atmosphere of the spa for a soothing 60 minutes of pampering.
After our massage, An called her driver, who again appeared from wherever it is he spends his time between appointments and scooped us up to bring us to one of An's favorite Chinese Restaurants. She had suggested a restaurant that she said, "I find alright, but westerners seem to like," but happily directed her driver to the Chinese option after I begged off any place that "westerners seem to like," prefering to be taken to her favorite Asian spots.
After a lunch of wonton soup, seafood fried rice and delicious shrinp dumplings, An's driver again picked us up, only to drop us off around the corner at Annam, one of the city's gourmet grocery stores which sold the organic vegetables and cleaning supplies that An and I had been discussing over lunch. Once inside, An made a few small purches and I picked up one of my new favorite sweet treats in Viet Nam - an almond pastry bar.
As we were riding back to my house where I was to be dropped off before An left to pick her girls up from school, both of us munching happily on my almond pastry bar, I thought to myself, that while I wouldn't ncessarily want to live the encapsulated life of a Korean Housewife in Viet Nam, I wouldn't mind tagging along on a few more outtings like today.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Mr. Steven/Coach Steven
Just a quick update on Steven's experience here in Viet Nam, since he is too busy with planning and grading and coaching to sit down and write out a post.
Steven is teaching five classes this year - three 7th grade world history and two 8th grade geography - as well as being the head coach of the boys basketball team. He is really enjoying both the teaching and the coaching and is aiming for "Teacher of the Year" this year.
Life is good.
Steven is teaching five classes this year - three 7th grade world history and two 8th grade geography - as well as being the head coach of the boys basketball team. He is really enjoying both the teaching and the coaching and is aiming for "Teacher of the Year" this year.
Life is good.
Vietnamese Job Search Take II
The first thing that I did was disabuse myself of the notion that I was going to get a job doing what I wanted to do that paid any sort of salary. Then I set out designing my very own "business cards" with my name and contact information and no mention whatsoever of what kind of job I was looking for or was qualified for to allow for a little more versatility. Then I sent a few emails out to friends in the NGO sector for the dates of the next NGO luncheon and happy hour and put them on my calendar. The next step was to take my cards out on the town and start networking.
The NGO luncheon was held a Sesame Restaurant, a French restaurant that provides hospitality training for underprivileged teens in Binh Thanh not too far from our house. The food was delicious, the money went to a good cause and I met a few people from various charities doing really important work. One that I was especially interested in was called, "Villes en Transition" or Cities in Transition, a French NGO working in the area of urban re-development and micro-loans. The organization is based on the principles of cooperation and sustainability and only works on projects in which everyone involved - local beneficiaries, local government, donors - is an active participant contributing to the success and sustainability of the projects. They work in high density, underdeveloped urban environments where a lot of people live in concentrated substandard housing and lack the basic necessities of access to clean water, electricity and an income adequate to sustain themselves and their families. VET provides expertise, supplies and labor to build new housing, local water sources and other improvements to local infrastructure, while training local residents on issues of sustainability like the importance of a clean water supply, housing safety, basic budgeting, etc. They also provide micro loans to families to help them start or improve existing businesses to increase their families income.
After speaking at length with the outgoing Head of Mission for VET, who was transitioning to a VET project in Cambodia, I introduced myself to the new Head of Mission, who had only been in Viet Nam for a week and gave her my card, expressing my interested in working with their organization.
The following Monday, I received a email asking for my resume, which I gladly sent over. A week later, I had a date set for an interview. A week after my interview, I had an offer for a "volunteer position with a stipend" (hiring expat staff is a difficult, cumbersome process that can often result in denial) as the "Outreach and Program Officer" for Villes en Transition. I happily accepted.
I will be working from 8:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. Monday - Thursday, beginning on November 1 at the exhorbitant salry of $300 USD a month and am quite excited about my new position. Hopefully, I'll be able to contribute quality work, learn more about urban development and poverty in Viet Nam, build my skills for whatever awaits me in my professional future, AND have more interesting stories for the blog! Wish me luck!
Happy Birthday, Steven!
September 28 was Steven's birthday, so on Saturday, September 26th a friend of his from school threw him a costume party with the theme - Heros, Icons and Legends - because, he said, Steven is everyone's hero. After a week of brainstorming and a last minute run to the costume shop, Steven, Meghan, my friend Lena and I dressed up and headed out to celebrate.
Correct Change
As a follow up to my story about our disappearing shoes, I wanted to note that while there are some Vietnamese who would run off with your possessions before you can blink, there are also countless more who are unfailingly honest and trusting.
Steven, who never quite got his Vietnamese numbers down last year, used to hold out a handful of money to the woman who ran a little market around the corner from our apartment and she would take whatever he owed and leave him the rest - always a steal, whatever he bought. I once had a boy at a mechanic stop me and run next door for change when I paid him 1,000 VND (one 18th of a dollar) too much. Just the other day, I had copies made at our local copy shop and I didn't have correct change, only a 100,000 VND note (about $6), so I pantomimed to the copy guy that I woud go and come back with correct change. He smiled, gave me my copies and waved me away. I bought lunch with the 100,000 note and returned 30 minutes later to pay for my copies. And those are just a few instances of the honesty and trust we've found to be more common in our transactions here, than the less common instances of dishonesty.
Steven, who never quite got his Vietnamese numbers down last year, used to hold out a handful of money to the woman who ran a little market around the corner from our apartment and she would take whatever he owed and leave him the rest - always a steal, whatever he bought. I once had a boy at a mechanic stop me and run next door for change when I paid him 1,000 VND (one 18th of a dollar) too much. Just the other day, I had copies made at our local copy shop and I didn't have correct change, only a 100,000 VND note (about $6), so I pantomimed to the copy guy that I woud go and come back with correct change. He smiled, gave me my copies and waved me away. I bought lunch with the 100,000 note and returned 30 minutes later to pay for my copies. And those are just a few instances of the honesty and trust we've found to be more common in our transactions here, than the less common instances of dishonesty.
Monday, September 21, 2009
R.I.P Peter Nguyen
Steven and I were heading to the gym around 9:30 on Saturday morning, explaining to our friend and current house guest, Meghan, that the gym was part of a Country Club, although it wasn't like what you would think when you hear the term "Country Club," when we noticed a covered table set for twelve positioned right outside our door.
"That looks more like a country club," Steven remarked, as we all gathered closer to the gate to see what was developing in the alley.
The table in front of our gate was one of three lined up along the alley, all covered in white table cloths and set with full place settings for twelve people each. Guessing that perhaps someone was getting married, we noticed a fire blazing to the right, just feet from our door, and immediately revised our presumption - someone had died.
In Viet Nam, when people die, it is common to provide them with items that they may need in the afterlife through the burning of paper and cardboard representations of the desired items. As we watched, the deceased was given a few paper outfits, a paper house filled with fake paper money, a tray of cardboard food, a selection of cardboard accessories, including sunglasses, shoes, cigarettes, a belt, and a razor, and my favorite, a cardboard BMW.
Not wanting to miss the festivities, but also intent on getting in a workout and some quality relaxation poolside at the Lan An, Steven and I left as soon as the fire was out and it was safe to squeeze our motorbike out the door.
When we returned later that day, we found the party in full swing. The first two tables were empty, but the one outside of our house, was filled with 'mourners,' all men, singing along to the acoustic strumming of one of the group. The floor under and around the table was littered with crushed beer cans, evidence that the party had been in full swing for some time. The table top, covered with plates of fruit and desserts, and a full glass of beer in front of every man, suggested that the party was still going strong.
As soon as we pulled up, the men pulled out two extra plastic stools and gestured for us to sit down. I hesitated for a moment, walked inside to place our bag on the porch and returned to join the party. In the moment I had been gone, a full glass of beer had materialized in front of Steven and the empty chair that was now mine. Steven happily raised his glass, while I politely declined, figuring from the amount of cans on the ground, that I wouldn't be offered just one and I wasn't ready to call it a day at 2 in the afternoon.
Not long after, we were introduced to the Vietnamese concept of "Tram Phan Tram" or 100%, in which one man holds up his glass, clinks his glass with yours and announces, "Tram Phan Tram," indicating that you will both now chug the entire contents of your glass. Sitting back, happy with myself for getting off the train before it turned into a mass of casualties strewn around the floor of our alley, I watched as man after man raised his glass with Steven, "Tram Phan Tram!" Four glasses in less than ten minutes. We were soon joined by Meghan who had been watching the revelry from afar, but decided to join once we'd settled in, and the cycle of "Tram Phan Tram!" began again.
Throughout the hours that we sat at the table, we were treated to rounds of beer and coke and various songs, of whose words we could not understand, but whose melodies and infectiousness we could appreciate. Between songs, the one man among them who spoke some English, most of them we had by now recognized as our neighbors, asked us about what we did and told us a little about why they were there - their friend, Peter Nguyen, 49 had died recently due to complications with alcohol - a fact that Meghan remarked upon later that evening as somewhat understandable given the state of all of his friends at his wake.
Finally, as the sun began to set, and various revelers had come and gone, I decided it was time for some sustenance other than grapes and coke and beer, and set out to make dinner. Around 8:30, the men having dispersed one-by-one to their respective houses as the day wore on, the party finally ended and Peter Nguyen's memory was laid to rest, at least for the day.
"That looks more like a country club," Steven remarked, as we all gathered closer to the gate to see what was developing in the alley.
The table in front of our gate was one of three lined up along the alley, all covered in white table cloths and set with full place settings for twelve people each. Guessing that perhaps someone was getting married, we noticed a fire blazing to the right, just feet from our door, and immediately revised our presumption - someone had died.
In Viet Nam, when people die, it is common to provide them with items that they may need in the afterlife through the burning of paper and cardboard representations of the desired items. As we watched, the deceased was given a few paper outfits, a paper house filled with fake paper money, a tray of cardboard food, a selection of cardboard accessories, including sunglasses, shoes, cigarettes, a belt, and a razor, and my favorite, a cardboard BMW.
Not wanting to miss the festivities, but also intent on getting in a workout and some quality relaxation poolside at the Lan An, Steven and I left as soon as the fire was out and it was safe to squeeze our motorbike out the door.
When we returned later that day, we found the party in full swing. The first two tables were empty, but the one outside of our house, was filled with 'mourners,' all men, singing along to the acoustic strumming of one of the group. The floor under and around the table was littered with crushed beer cans, evidence that the party had been in full swing for some time. The table top, covered with plates of fruit and desserts, and a full glass of beer in front of every man, suggested that the party was still going strong.
As soon as we pulled up, the men pulled out two extra plastic stools and gestured for us to sit down. I hesitated for a moment, walked inside to place our bag on the porch and returned to join the party. In the moment I had been gone, a full glass of beer had materialized in front of Steven and the empty chair that was now mine. Steven happily raised his glass, while I politely declined, figuring from the amount of cans on the ground, that I wouldn't be offered just one and I wasn't ready to call it a day at 2 in the afternoon.
Not long after, we were introduced to the Vietnamese concept of "Tram Phan Tram" or 100%, in which one man holds up his glass, clinks his glass with yours and announces, "Tram Phan Tram," indicating that you will both now chug the entire contents of your glass. Sitting back, happy with myself for getting off the train before it turned into a mass of casualties strewn around the floor of our alley, I watched as man after man raised his glass with Steven, "Tram Phan Tram!" Four glasses in less than ten minutes. We were soon joined by Meghan who had been watching the revelry from afar, but decided to join once we'd settled in, and the cycle of "Tram Phan Tram!" began again.
Throughout the hours that we sat at the table, we were treated to rounds of beer and coke and various songs, of whose words we could not understand, but whose melodies and infectiousness we could appreciate. Between songs, the one man among them who spoke some English, most of them we had by now recognized as our neighbors, asked us about what we did and told us a little about why they were there - their friend, Peter Nguyen, 49 had died recently due to complications with alcohol - a fact that Meghan remarked upon later that evening as somewhat understandable given the state of all of his friends at his wake.
Finally, as the sun began to set, and various revelers had come and gone, I decided it was time for some sustenance other than grapes and coke and beer, and set out to make dinner. Around 8:30, the men having dispersed one-by-one to their respective houses as the day wore on, the party finally ended and Peter Nguyen's memory was laid to rest, at least for the day.
Tables Set for the Wake
The burning of offerings for the next life
Preparing Accessories and other Offerings
A plaid shirt for the afterlife
A meal for the road including fresh coconut juice.
And of course - a BMW!
The party in full swing outside our door.
Steven, Meghan and I join the party.
Hours of drinking = instant friends!
Live entertainment, food and drink.
Mr. "Manh," our English speaking neighbor and resident musician.
Meghan and her new friend - the last, and only, left standing.
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