beauty of the south

The morning language class on the eighteenth progressed at the ridiculous pace at which a detached tire without much of a purpose would probably choose to roll itself down the street, if it could. Life, in some ways, has become overly scheduled and routine here in recent days, perhaps even to where a lingering sense of mundane repetition seems to dictate what will happen next—part of this stems from always being busy with one thing or another, and living the life of a student on a study program. In a sense of the matter, I am bound to the social and structural obligations that I have gotten myself into this time around; however, this is not to say that my wish for continual growth through interaction and implementation of developing ideas will be confined to but one narrow path.

On this particular day after language class, I met with my friend Nguyệt, whom I had studied with in Hà Nội with on the CIEE program during the fall semester. This meeting of old friends immediately brought back a surge of memories from months prior—though our physical appearances were still comparatively the same as before, our levels of human development were now indescribably further along than before. It is my belief that the way by which a person presents his or her psychological demeanor to another human being, it changes over time. What changed about my friend was that she seems to have developed into someone who is more comfortable with a larger range of physical mobility than before; the person once at ease sitting in a room all day was replaced by one who is willing to walk the streets alone.

After this brief lunch meeting at V3 Kafé followed by another goodbye, a scheduled tour of the Nike shoe making factory in Biên Hòa consumed the rest of the day. Owned by South Korean investors, employing over 18,000 workers, and under a contract with Nike, this factory was in fact, a factory—not that I have ever seen another factory on such a grand scale to make a meaningful comparison. Our student group was given a sort of constrained view of operations which had the goal of painting a good picture by the public relations management team, and a selected tour of the working facilities. Though the social mobility factor is indeed lacking for a variety of reasons which may include lack of a formal education beyond basic literacy, the workers here seem relatively content with having employment to support their families back home in their rural provinces where work may not be as readily available. The management here sees the factory as being beneficial to the surrounding community, and continues to view itself as such in the long-run.

The day after the Nike factory tour, our student group had an afternoon meeting with two of the political officers working at the US Consulate here in the city. These individuals commented on a variety of issues including Vietnamese Americans being arrested by the local government for attempting to leave the country with untaxed profits from house sales, current pressures on the Vietnamese government in correlation with various human rights abuses, the economic and political climate, and the feasibility of foreign business affecting social reform.

Days later on a Thursday would be the first time I would meet with a Vietnamese educator with his own views of the system for my research project. Humorously, he did not understand why he was scheduled to meet with me in the first place—he thought that I was a Vietnamese student whom required help with the English language as he has been teaching the language for a living here for decades. The introductory meeting went relatively well, and he scheduled for me to meet with two of his fellow educator friends the following day. When last Friday arrived, however, I had fallen ill to the common cold and was in no condition to have a serious discussion with a group of teachers. Fighting an onslaught of drowsiness brought on by the cold, I had trouble staying awake in their presence and excused myself to left the meeting early—I did get their contact information before I left though.

There is much more to write as I have not written for awhile. However, I need a break and will post another entry tomorrow.

bullets still work

Eyes looking off to the horizon, the range of vision is obscured by low-lying buildings covered in chipping paint and signs of social wear; jutting in the distance is the city skyline of newer infrastructure. A person on a motorbike zooms across the congested lanes of this southern space. On another street intersection, a tanned shirtless child of unknown ethnic background peddles for alms day and night. The slight breeze in the blistering humid air carries the heavy scent of what could be deemed as the city stench. Ears wide open to the life here--the blaring sound of horns and sirens in almost unison. Human transport services via self-employed individuals on motorbikes--xe om--ask "xe khong anh?" "Khong can," replies the foreign voice with the shake of a hand and local grime lining the esophagus. A guard in green, or cong an rather, marches in front of the consulate for the French. A worn-down AK-47 of olden days hangs on his right shoulder on his side--some people with red-coloured passports demand entry at the gate. I wonder if the bullets still work.

To detail my experience thus far in a different regard, I will shift to a more narrative mode that entails the memory of direct interactions. On the evening of the fourteenth, I returned back to Sai Gon via bus of the TM Brothers--I would not recommend this company as the air conditioning expelled varying levels of faulty lukewarm air that was not quite cool. Before it slips my mind to some other time, the highlight of my original bus ride via the Phuong Trang company to Mui Ne was when I witnessed the sight of an overturned bus on the side of the road. Also in the same day, I had purchased two Vietnamese language newspapers from street vendors, and surprisingly I could read and understand parts of the articles. Back to the nearer present, dusk had already set in and a man on motorbike inquired that I needed a ride (specifically from him, that is.) Across the street I exchanged some cash, and then bargained it down to 15,000 dong for a ride back to 1B Pham Ngoc Thach.

The next day would be a starting point of bad luck of sorts--after Julie flew into town from Ha Noi, she, I, Phuong, and Khanh took a taxi to get some lunch. The day was cloudy and it begun to rain; to add in a degree of excitement, three food places we stopped at were already closed. We settled on lunch at Nha Hang Thuong Hai over at 21-23 Vo Van Tan--here, the elevator was awkwardly positioned wherein there was little room for comfort upon exiting as a double glass door opening inwards was a mere meter from the elevator. Also, the food here was not that great. Some time after a few games of chess and scrabble back at Chris's, we decided to stop over at Le Duyen 3 hair salon on 46 Bui Thi Xuan so that Phuong could get a new haircut; however, the electricity went out so a long delay ensued. Did I mention that I had gotten a haircut a few days ago on the same street when I went there with Chris and Daniel? Mo-hawk, fo-hawk, something of the sort; it doesn't look much like a hawk though--maybe a malnutritioned porcupine when hair product is applied. Night fell, and back at Chris's house Ben made some spaghetti for dinner.

Later on, Phuc and his friend, and Ben's two friends who do some sort of humanitarian work stopped by for a few drinks and conversation before we headed over to a nearby club upstairs at Napoli followed by a stop over at a crowded Lush at 2 Ly Tu Trong. Where the bad luck I spoke of earlier really begins is after a late-night meal of mi hoang thanh (wonton noodle soup) over at Nha Hang Hai San Vi Ca Hoang Thanh on 77-89 Nam Ky Khoi Nghia--at least I attribute it to this particular dish from this night as Julie and Phuong are still both experiencing symptoms to a lesser degree today. A few hours later, my stomach was in great sharp pains from food poisoning, and bouts of diarrhea and vomiting continued until morning when Phuong rushed me over to Family Medical Practice clinic on 34 Le Duan. After a few hours on IV to rehydrate my system, I went back to the guesthouse where I met my fellow program participants (Dave, Philip, Tam, Tien, Long, and Matt) before returning to my room to some eat some chao before drifting off to a few hours of sleep. After this recovery, we had a group dinner at Bun Ta on 136 Nam Ky Khoi Nghia--the beef in my selected dish was in a state of rubbery overcooked-ness. The night concluded with live music performances by some opening acts and then Ngoc Anh over at Phong Tra Van Nghe at 14 Lam Son.

Yesterday on the seventeenth of June started with a group breakfast over down the street at a place serving a variety of bun and Hue-styled dishes. There was a morning orientation where something or another took place, and then a group lunch over at Son Ha down the street. At about one-thirty in the afternoon, we met our local roommates--Hai (my roommate), Chien, Hanh, Thanh, and three others I will have to remember the names of later. We would take part in a day's worth of scavenger hunt activities through the city--the first was winning a game of tien len, the second was mapping the local area by pen and papar via the back of Hai's motorbike, the third was splitting open pumpkin seeds and removing the insides in one piece, the fourth was obtaining a stranger's family tree in Quan 5 (Hai did the talking and information gathering, while I went inside the local bookstore to purchase Haruki Murakami's South of the Border, West of the Sun translated into Vietnamese as Phia Nam Bien Gioi Phia Tay Mat Troi), and the fifth was putting together twenty pieces of a puzzle.

We ended up getting second place, and after Hai moved into the room at the guesthouse and some rest, Hai, Tam, Hanh, and I went to eat dinner. The first location we stopped at was a com binh dan; however, Tam is a vegetarian (for the most part) so we had dinner instead at a vegetarian restaurant called Bodhi Tree on Pham Ngu Lao. After the meal and teaching the Vietnamese roommates some informal slang, we walked around the backpacker area from park to shop to shop. One particular location stood out among these souvenir havens--an art gallery selling paintings made solely out of the wings of butterflies at 208 Bui Vien. True this may sound grotesque, but the paintings if one could call them that are really beautiful; also, supposedly the wings were only taken from butterflies that had already departed from this Earth. Two more activities followed: some overpriced orange juice at a spot looking out at the river bordering Quan 1 wherein I inquired about complex Vietnamese idea terminology from Hai and Hanh in exchange for the same in English, and a game of tien len back in the room which I took last place in (I now owe Hai a lunch.) To backtrack a bit to the backpacker district, which is the scene where we were walking further up and down the streets here, one can not but notice the overwhelming sight of handicapped individuals with missing limbs seeking alms to maintain their existences. Unlike the States and some other countries, Viet Nam does not have a social welfare system in place and seems to heavily rely on non-governmental organizations to alleviate these sorts of poverty, or otherwise have them go away somehow.

Today was a Vietnamese language placement test over at VLS--I got placed at intermediate so far, but if it is too easy, then I will get moved over to advanced. This would be good news for Trinh, who is teaching the intermediate class. Afterwards was a stop over at Poppy at 217 Nguyen Dinh Chieu with Phuong, Julie, Philip, and Son--a place specializing in frozen yogurt with toppings, which is owned by a Vietnamese woman named Thao from California.

days under the sun

As the title of this entry implies, I have been spent the previous few days in Mui Ne--swimming, lounging, reading, walking, eating, and sleeping. The waters were especially nice; they were at their clearest when the tide was in before noon. I have finally finished reading Murakami's Wind-Up Bird Chronicle; I probably should have bought that one book in Japan, but oh well.

To describe the city, I would say that the sun was blazing hot, the waters were wonderfully cool, and the peoples usually kind. On the first day there as I was walking down the beach, and a group of local children, done with school for the summer, stopped me to ask if we could play and if they could 'have' my swimming goggles. In a sense, the introduction of my foreign goggles brought a degree of unnecessary conflict among the children as they fought over who would be the first and next to use them. At one point in an unrelated matter, two of the children began fighting over something with one brutally pinching the other in unspecified areas. Not wanting to cause any commotion since I was an outsider here, I told them to stop fighting and let their oldest be the mediators. The struggle ended peacefully, if one could call it that, with one of the older boys consoling the one whom had been attacked.

Last night after my return to Sai Gon, I went to eat dinner with Phuong, Trinh, Son, and Khanh at a place called Son La near here. The food was decent, the decor jungle-like, and the staff all dressed alike. After that, we went to a place down Tran Hung Dao which served hot vit lon. I have the fried one, which didn't particularly taste like it had been fried. Thereafter, we hit up Lam's Bar on Bui Vien where we ordered a crazy cocktail served in a large flower vase while seated on the rooftop in the warm Sai Gon night air. The night concluded back at Chris's where we watched a bit of Training Day, talked to some IT friends of Ben visiting from Ha Noi, and a game of scrabble.

rewinded times

After a breakfast of Bun Bo the previous day, I happened upon Phuong, who was looking for me at the guesthouse, while I was walking around the area. We would then walk to Chris's house nearby to hang for a bit where I met Daniel, a Viet Kieu from the states whom interned at Green Bamboo Shelter, and Will. Relaxing there for a bit, I played a game of chess with Chris, and lost.

Around one in the afternoon, Phuong took me to a fruit kiosk to purchase some thang long and buoi for the visit to my great-uncle's home. Unfortunately, I have been away from this atmosphere for such a time that I forgot to bargain, so Phuong ended up taking care of that. With the newly acquired fruits, I would walk the rest of the way to my great-uncle's (but, not without a stop first to Incombank, and Kinh Do bakery.)

Their home has changed somewhat since my last visit in January--the walls are in the process of being painted light-green (leftover paint from a business of a relative), the folding screen for the first bedroom has been replaced by a sturdier wooden frame, with a newer folding screen, and there is now a washing machine. The time passed with discussion about the happenings of other relatives, the weather, things of monetary nature, and geographical calculations. The younger children, cousins-of-sorts, have grown since last; the youngest ones are now able to speak in varying degrees.

Later on, Chu Bao took me to dinner at a side street eatery serving banh cuon with fresh brewed sua do nanh.

The night concluded with a brief stop at Yoko (there was a new band, the speakers were a-crackin', and seating was even more limited), Lush (a shared bottle of overly expensive Johnnie Walker, seeing Ha and Phuc again, and meeting some new people), and another game of chess against Chris (I lost, again.)

I shall probably go to Phan Thiet tomorrow morning (three hours away instead of the six and a half for Nha Trang) for a few days of relaxing beach time.

good morning việt nam!

I woke this morning from a knock on the door--evidently the cleaning people were making their rounds at 8:30am. No problem I thought, I would just keep my eyes closed and let them do their thing; if my hearing is correct, the sound of shuffling bags indicates that this person emptied out the trash can.

Some time later, I actually got out of bed. It still has not completely hit me yet; I am back in Việt Nam after an absence of 5 months. For those of you who were wondering, cell phones sim cards still work after that long of a timespan.

First thing I will do today is eat some breakfast somewhere around here. After that, I need to stop by one of the small post offices and get more cell minutes added. Then, I will probably go buy some fresh fruits, stop by my great-uncle's home to say hello, and then whatever else comes to mind on this first morning back.

I have not decided yet, but maybe tomorrow I will head over to Nha Trang for a few days of beach time before the program begins.

jet stream heated toilets!

A quick update from Narita Airport in Tokyo, Japan...

After some delays due to inclement weather in and to Dallas, I have arrived on the other side of the Pacific.

Getting off the plane was a relief as the uncomfortable seating on the S700 AA flight caused me considerable lower back pain; perhaps it was my attempts at reclined sleeping that brought about this.

During the flight here, I was cramped between a Japanese guy who slept most of the time, and a Caucasian girl with facial piercings galore on her way to Guam. I passed the time on this flight with a few naps, watching a Japanese tourism video about Sai Gon, and reading Murakami's Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. On exiting the planes, I noticed that first class seating really did have foot rests and larger seats.

After mistakenly attempting to check-in at the American Airlines and JAL counters, I was told to board the bus to Terminal 1 where my flight to Sai Gon departs from Gate 34 at 6:35pm. Japanese airport employees sure are helpful, for the most part.

With some time to kill, I have decided to walk around the airport and take pictures of random occurrences and cultural icons. What is different about a Japanese airport? There are day spa and shower rooms located throughout where one pays $9/hr for a glorious shower. The snack and drink machines are lighted, kind of like the ones you seen in the Japanese movies and cartoons. The toilet seats are heated, and feature a jet stream washer (with automatic sensor!). Oh, and the book store has a lot of Japanese books; I was considering purchasing another Murakami book there (they have different UK-printed covers), but I haven't figured out how much the Yen conversion is.

Soon to be in Viet Nam.