look alike

So I have a student named 'Jacky (yellow shirt)' who looks like Zach Blew (friend from college). I totally stalked Zach's facebook just now looking for a photo that did justice to the likeness that I saw. Maybe Jacky's mannerisms add to the picture for me... Does anyone have a picture of a younger Zach Blew? Does anyone see what I see?

We are on our way out the door to visit our friends in Bien Hoa (Steph and Brittany). I feel like I sound annoyed in this video, but actually this class is one of my favorites. They like to play pretend games and clap and laugh, and I bribe them with Finding Nemo stickers. They have so much energy that I start class with a little exercise. Many of them are very smart, and one kid named Yang has incredibly good English. He says it's because he watches Cartoon Network, and you can tell because when I ask him questions he answers with, "Ladies and Gentleman, boy and girl, right back after these messages..."

The hand I'm holding in the video is "Ranger." I would like to staple him to his chair. He's sweet, but he is constantly walking around the classroom, jumping, bothering others. And then when the bell for the break rings, he falls on the floor and sits.

Stardom within Reach

In Vietnam, there are no copyright laws. Some examples include our teachers' books, which are black and white copies from the printer all bound together with a little red plastic band. Also, we see Jennfer Aniston plastered on a wall on our way to school every day. And Kiera Knightley's picture graces the front of the hair salon across the street. I have wondered if these celebrities know how often their photos are reproduced when they don't receive compensation.

I used to wonder what it would be like to be famous. I feel like we have gotten a taste of that life here. People stare and point and wave. Others nudge those next to them and call the children to come out and see us. Some smile, some frown. We feel very scrutinized, people notice our habits and schedule, they want us to be seen eating at their resturants.

And NOW, we might get to experience that other part of being famous. I received an email and a text about coming to district one to take pictures. Our school, VATC, doesn't have a yearbook, but I didn't question it and we took a taxi to the school's headquarters. It turned out to be this intense photo shoot! Lights, cameras, and a notebook full of absurd poses to choose from.

(None of my actual students have laptops for the record) I was so embarassed doing what they told me to do, and there were people watching! It wasn't long before they realized how much more they liked taking pictures of Erica than of me. I think there might be a career change in her future.

Aside from that acting reality t.v. show Courtney Thurston, Andrew Roberts and I tried out for in 2004, this might be one of the more ridiculous things I've ever done. We are really hoping that our pictures get put up on a billboard somewhere. Fingers crossed.

For the record, the book I am holding here is called "Michigan Profeciency (does it teach people how to talk like Michiganders?)." And I would also like to add that we joked and laughed a lot, even though this picture makes it look very painful. It WAS painful at times, but i would have felt much more ridiculous if I wasn't laughing through all of this.

I was sooooooo thankful they had Erica do this pose instead of me.

This video isnt funny

Here is a video I took tonight on our walk to school. Normally the traffic flows pretty really fast and everyone just zooms by, but around 5:15-5:30, the school on our street gets out and motorbikes come from every direction to park and pick up their children. We were really smooth tonight and we just walked right through. Sometimes we have to weave through the maze and watch out for the masses of tail pipes. I'm a little upset that no one yelled "hello!" to us during the video. I'll try to get that on tape later.

The streets in our neighborhood are lined with different shops and food stands. And Erica and I have ambiguous names for local places but we both know exactly what the other is talking about. For example, “the rice place (every place has rice),” “the omelet lady,” “the Latino guy (ok please don’t be offended by this, but there are a hundred sandwich stands and this helps us distinguish a good one),” and “Our coffee place.” It is OUR coffee place. It consists of a little room with an awning spread over two plastic kiddie tables and a stack of kiddie chairs. All of this in a small alley. We love it, and our loyalty has many benefits: they never misunderstand our order, we are never shocked by the price, and the couple that runs it takes care of us like their own children.

On Friday our school was closed for some kind of fumigation, for the N1H1 flu virus. Erica and I went to our coffee place and had our cà phê sũa. It started to rain and the woman ushered me to a chair away from the edge so I wouldn’t get dripped on. It rained harder and the woman and her husband motioned for us to come inside and we motioned that we weren’t getting wet and were ok. Her husband stood and said, no longer smiling, “Come now.” So we did.

The rain intensified and the little alley flooded almost immediately. Some boys who were walking to school stepped up on a ledge out of the water. The woman brought in the chairs before they floated away. The thunder and lightening came and the power went off. We sat in the front of the room with the couple and the husband used his few English words to tell us that it was raining and teach us how to say it in Vietnamese. I had a dictionary and the woman took it to look up the word. She gave it back to me pointing to a word in Vietnamese. The definition stated: to drizzle.

Later Erica and I walked down town to find a market. We found that after this "drizzle" the streets were flooded. We were very clearly the only fools on foot, and there were places where the water was up to our knees. There was a strong current in places and when big trucks would drive by, waves were created. At first it was funny, but after walking through it for a while, I wanted to get out. I couldn't see my feet at all and I couldn't see holes or slopes and trash kept getting caught on my shoes.

At one point we walked on the median. Now the medians are usually manicured very nicely and kept well. There was another man walking on the median and he walked off the grass, balancing on the curb like a trapeze artist. Erica and I thought that it must be bad to walk on the grass since no one else was doing it, so we copied the trapeze man. A few others came behind us and did the same thing. Here we are, a line of us now, walking and balancing on this narrow curb, inches away from speeding traffic. There aren't any pictures of this because we had to concentrate pretty hard to be successful.

"Take a load of your feet"

After fellowship today, Erica and I went to District one and walked around. We saw a place called 'Wayne's Texas BBQ and Steak' and the neon "Cowboy Wayne" was waving to us and directing us inside. We decided to celebrate being here for one-month and experience this American food. I had a hamburger and Erica had a quesadilla. We were disappointed in the guacamole, but my hamburger was delicious. Sadly the portions were Vietnamese and not American. The atmosphere was delightful, and we sat next to pictures of The Duke and sang along to the country music.

District One is very different because there are foreigers everywhere and people don't even seem to notice us. We actually find that we miss the attention.

Then we saw some a group of Japanese women taking pictures in kimonos in front of the Opera House. They seemed to enjoy me taking their picture.

Unforgettable

I’ve been trying to write a post about the Deaflympics in my head since I was in the stadium in Taipei. And maybe it’s because I like to write, but since then, I’ve had a nagging urge to describe everything, and yet I am continually dissatisfied with what I produce. I have literally written a dozen rough drafts of this and thrown them out. Nothing seems to quite do it justice.

For starters, I got to see my best friend stand on a platform and have a gold medal placed around her neck. If you were able to watch the game or the medal ceremony, then I’m sure you know what I mean. What an overwhelming feeling of delight and awe! I could have actually burst with pride at that moment, and my emotions overflowed as tears. I’m a rather self-centered person and I never expected to feel this kind of pride for someone else’s achievement, like a parent for a child. Even writing this now I can’t stop crying from thinking about it.

I think the Olympics themselves awaken dormant feelings of patriotism and pride, and Laura and I both agree that the National Anthem makes us cry before games. But this was different. The arenas, playing fields, and all of the amenities were in fact, magnificent. The Taiwanese are yet another Asian culture that, in general, seems to find it honorable to serve you in any way possible. But it was what was inside the arenas and stadiums that stood out to me.

On my way to the stadium, the night of the game against Germany, I walked alone through the throngs of people. Deaf people from all over the world, their loved ones, interpreters, masses of helpful volunteers. Just picture communication at its finest: everyone working to understand, be understood, and make sure that those around them have the opportunity to listen. I’ve never seen the deaf community like this and it really is a beautiful picture. It made me wish that I knew more sign language. Not because I needed it to communicate, or because that cute guy in the elevator started signing to me and I wanted so badly to know what he said, but because I didn’t want to be an outsider. I wanted to be part of this.

I was, however, thankful to be a hearing person during that game because of all the sounds mingling with the sensations of my other senses. I’m not much of a ‘yeller’ at games, unless it’s just really loud and I know my voice won’t stand out above the crowd. In a stadium full of deaf people though, there’s really no reason to hold back.

It is such a beautiful sound to hear people cheer and yell unabashedly at the top of their lungs. And not in attempt to impress others with their comments, but sometimes just because the exclamation flows forth in excitement. There were low groans and high pitched screeches, teams cheering for their teammates who wouldn’t be able to hear the shouts of encouragement. There were groups of people chanting and signing, gesturing, dancing, singing. There were flags, signs, and great movements in the crowd. Angry mothers yelling at the referees. Photographers capturing the sights on camera. People having conversations while sitting a dozen rows apart. All of these things and a first-place match, played under the lights in a grand stadium, tied at half-time. It was awesome.

The first goal brought the crowd to its feet in elation. A new level of awesomeness reached. The one-zero score lasted long enough to keep emotions tense. The rest of the game was a blur to me. For some reason I never felt worried, I never rehearsed what i would say in the event of a loss. But it was still a sweet victory. The final score of 4-0 and the signal for the end of the game brought more joyous eruption. It really was a perfect night.

Reporting New Victories

I started having a sore throat on Friday and I felt awful during my classes on Saturday. I think I had a fever, but it's hard to tell when it's already so hot. In the Taipei airport, there is a thermal scanner and if you have a fever, they can quarantine you there for an extended amount of time. I only had a small window of time to see Laura play in the Olympics and I had to be back by Tuesday to teach class. Any hint of fever would ruin everything.

It was a roller coaster trying to get a ticket to the games from the start. I didn't have my teaching schedule, so I couldn't buy tickets, and when I got my schedule, they wouldn't release my passport because our administrators were trying to open bank accounts for us. And then they sold out of tickets to the opening ceremonie. I had gotten my hopes so high and I was afraid they were going to be dashed. It seemed too good to be true anyway.

After a couple of weeks of anxiety, sure that nothing was actually going to work out, this weekend proved to be a weekend of conquests, one after the other.

Erica was flying to DaNang, Vietnam and we were both nervous about our trips. We sat down and spoke to our Father together, pleading for protection, traveling mercies, and confidence that His will would be done no matter what. This put me more at ease, but I found that even after something went right, I needed to repeat the conversation over and over again.

On Saturday night after class, Erica and I tried talking to the security guy in front of our building. I had learned how to say, "I need a taxi. Sunday," and I was really excited to practice. We wrote down 4:00 even though i didn't know how to say a.m. There was a lot of talking and nodding (from both sides), but we have found that in the Vietnamese culture, people frequently will say yes because they think it is what you want to hear. I thought there was a chance that he understood, but it was unlikely and we were prepared for disappointment. The next morning, we walked up at 4:15; the gate was shut and there was no sign of a taxi. Then, the security guard turned and saw us, and his face lit up. He jumped up to greet us and at that moment, a taxi drove up, honked, and he pulled the gate open. He had understood us! It sounds small, but it was a huge victory. Erica got in the taxi to go to the airport and I went back to sleep, a triumphant smile on my face.

Next was my flight. I took a motorbike taxi to a market on Sunday and then another motorbike taxi to the airport. It’s still such a thrill that I can’t seem to ride one yet without thinking over and over about how much I love life. I haven’t navigated across town by myself yet and I even think I got a decent price. Again, I felt victorious.
I didn’t know that I needed to bring my immigration card to leave the country, and when the officer asked for mine my heart sunk. I had celebrated too early. I tried explaining to him where I live, but when he didn’t understand I wrote it down. He looked up and said, “You write Vietnamese? Very good!” It was just our address that I’ve written a dozen times, but it made me feel so proud. He let me go, but said if I forgot it next time, he wouldn’t be able to help me. Victory.

I flew into Taiwan and when I stepped off the plane, I no longer felt sick at all, even my sinuses were clear. I walked past the quarantine check and the screen that shows heat and saw my figure. I was colored green and blue with only a slight pinkness on my cheeks. When I reached the front, there was a man with a ‘Carolyn Jones’ sign. Laura had paid for an English speaking taxi driver to come pick me up! Later, on the Olympic website I noticed that every hotel in the city was full. If she hadn’t arranged for me to stay with one of her friends’ mom, I don’t know what I would have done. Unbelievable. Victory.

Even on my journey home from Taipei, everything worked out beautifully. I don't know why I am continually surprised when I am taken care of; maybe the victories are actually over my own doubt. It was the weekend of a lifetime. And speaking of victories, I will post about the Deaflympics very very soon. For now, we sing praises.

Smells

I would like for you to be able to experience a taste (or smell rather) of Vietnam from wherever you might be reading. This is just a typical walk from our apartment to the school. Please follow the instructions to experience the full effect.

Now, if you would, take out a trash can (full of trash) and start a fire in it (please be careful). Toss some dirt into the wind (preferably when you are standing down-wind). Next, grab several handfuls of incense and light 'em up. Now, please find a diesel truck that has without a doubt failed emissions testing and let it run for a while. Then take a deep breath in.

But stay with me; It gets better. Leave some fish frying on the stove. And if you have any extra burner on the stove, get some other pots going: maybe some spicy peppers, any number of meats, some okra soup, shrimp in delicious spices (I'll update when I discover what they put in the delicious things we like), maybe some eel. Mmm. And if you don't have anywhere else to cook, just slide the pot over the fire that you've made.

If you aren't satisfied with your experience thus far, light a few cigarettes (again, please use caution) (and know that these smells do not represent the views or choices of this author). Maybe cut up some fruit and leave it sitting for a few days. Do not clean it up. Then make a homemade doughnut and get it frying in some grease. Yum yum.

If you're still begging for more, find some fresh fish and just leave it out, and lots of clams, oysters, and snails. Then grind up some coffee beans. There's a new blend of smell at each turn, some terrible and some amazing. And then it rains. And rain in Vietnam smells just like rain in Georgia. It's like the refresh button; unless it sticks around for a few days, then that's another story...

There are a few other smells that will need further explanation. Tune in some time in the future for SOUNDS

Birthday Blog

I should have written this one first, if we're being all chronological here...


So my birthday was Sunday, and I entered it with mixed feelings as I have been very pleased with the age 23, hesitant to enter a new age. And, as usual, I had no idea what I wanted to do and Erica was no help because she was determined that it was MY DAY, and she would only do what I wanted to do. Stupid self-lessness.

On the morning of my birthday, Erica woke me up with balloons on my door and we went to get coffee from my favorite place with my favorite lady. We've gone there enough that as soon as we walk up, she runs in the back to make our coffee and a pot of hot tea and have it ready for us. In fact, I've determined that we can never walk down that alley unless we are getting coffee, because she would see us and we wouldn't be able to explain that we were just walking... One time when we were having coffee there, I went to pay and I had to duck to go inside and she thought it was the funniest thing and didn't stop laughing until she had thoroughly mimed it, compared heights with me over and over until she was convinced that I understood her meaning. Her husband knows a little English so he will come out and try to speak with us everyday.






Then we left for fellowship in district two. We’ve only been to this one two times, but on our first Sunday we met Janell, who took us out for lunch and showed us around with her roommate Aletta. They made us feel so welcome, and like we could ask them anything. And this Sunday, I asked Janell what her plans were and she said that she was hanging out with the birthday girl! I am confident that no one has ever said that to me that I've only met one time.





Janell knew of plenty of places to go and she took us to a mall with a foodcourt with lots of food options (perfect for indecisive Carolyn and Erica) and paid for our taxi and my meal! Then Aletta showed up with a piece of cake for me. She actually told us that the little piece of decoration on the back of the cake here was the Vietnamese 'birthday symbol,' and if she hadn't corrected it, Erica and I would have believed it forever.


















Next they took us to Ben Thanh Market, where I've been wanting to go, and they navigated us through. Erica and I have had several conversations about Janell and Aletta and we can't believe how nice they've been to us. We're so touched by how they've gone out of their way to help us in this new culture (I promise I'm not just saying this because I found out you read my blog). Later, they gave us directions to another area and we parted ways. We never found exactly what we thought they were talking about, but we got to walk a lot. Poor Erica is very easy going and doesn't mind my love for walking around the city-- map completely unfolded-- blatantly touristy looking. I just love to know where I am and to be able to associate actual places with the streets on the map.


We stumbled on a movie theater and stopped to watch, "Land of the Lost," with Will Ferrell. Wow. It was pretty funny but one of the stupidest movies I have ever seen in my life. And maybe that is why it's funny. We discussed their target demographic and were completely dumfounded. Maybe middle school boys..?

It started to rain and I was getting hungry, so we stopped at a food stand on the side of the road. I wasn't really excited about it, but it turned out to be the best soup I've had so far! Incredible. I have no clue what all was in it, but wow. And we also had some mincemeat pork something cooked in banana leaves. Excellent birthday meal. Excellent birthday. Thanks so much to everyone for their birthday wishes!

Day after my birthday

On Monday morning, I was awakened by a text message from Steph that made no sense to me, so I gave the phone to Erica. We went for coffee and then went to the school to fill out paperwork. We didn’t eat breakfast and shockingly, the little amount of paper work took longer than expected (which we expected). I was getting hungry and kept hinting that to Erica, hoping she would agree and we would stop for food soon. It started pouring outside and our plans of exploring the other side of the bridge today suddenly didn’t seem so important.

While we were still there, one woman in the office told me that one of my classes would like for me to speak slower for them and to repeat things more for them. No big deal. I don’t mind constructive feedback. But I have told this class repeatedly that if they don’t understand what I am saying, please tell me. Just raise your hand and ask me to repeat. Over and over I tell them. They just smile and nod (in hindsight, that should have tipped me off). And I KNOW that the communication is indirect here. “Talk about, not to,” is what Dawn has told us from day one. This was my favorite class and I thought they liked me too (as if asking someone to slow down is now code for "I hate you")! I knew it was no big deal, but it felt like betrayal.

The woman giving me the feedback also said that she still couldn’t give me my passport and I needed it to buy a plane ticket to Taiwan. That brought my spirits down too. So I was annoyed, a little hurt, and my hunger was making me more irritable.

As we walked back in the rain, Erica said that we could go back to our apartment for our helmets. I didn’t understand why she still wanted to go downtown in the rain, but I agreed. “I’m just really hungry. Aren’t you?” She shook her head. I thought, dang how could she not be hungry? It's almost lunchtime now! I told her how I was feeling after being told to speak more slowly and said that maybe I was irritable because I was so hungry. “Can we just stop and eat on our way back?” To which Erica replied, “Can you wait?”

That was extremely out of character for Erica. A scowl crossed my face and I said, loudly because of the traffic and rain, “WHY??!” Something was going on.

She simply stared ahead. She was wearing her poncho and I knew she had no peripheral vision like that, so she was clearly ignoring me. “Erica!” I said, trying to get her attention, “What is going on?” This was not like Erica at all. I explained to her again that I was getting very grumpy from the hunger and rain and being frustrated in the office and I could just pick up something quick to eat and bring it back.

I realized at that moment that I don't think that I like surprises because I don’t like not knowing what is going on. She was being secretive and it made me feel left out. Erica already does a lot of stuff that I’m not allowed to know about because she is the Central Administrator for our team, and that doesn’t bother me so much, but this was about me! I want to be talked to, not about! And now, i just wanted to eat, dry off, and watch a movie or something on this, our day off.

She kept being vague and I was getting more and more annoyed. We were literally walking past dozens of places that sell all kinds of food, everything for less than a dollar; I could see it and smell it cooking. I told her that I felt like a brat, but whatever was going on, I wanted no part in it, just let me eat! She said we could go back to the apartment and have some dragon fruit. She still wasn’t looking at me, but I was giving her the stink face that said, “Are you kidding me right now?” She refused to tell me anything else, but said that if I guessed it on my own, then that wasn’t her fault. I didn’t want to guess. We made it back to the apartment and she took off her poncho. Wait, why would you take off your poncho?? I thought. Surely we’re leaving right now to go eat..?

I cut up a dragon fruit (picture stolen from Lance Baker) and pouted while Erica busied herself in her room. Then our doorbell rang. It was Steph and Brittany! They had just made half off the 5 hour journey from Bien Hoa in one afternoon. They brought with them presents (Madagascar I and II!) and a moon-cake shaped like a mama pig and four piglets. The rain stopped, the sun came out and I forgot to be such a brat. We got to go downtown to the market and we explored and hung out.

I got measured for some clothes and I didn’t understand a word the tailor said, so it will be interesting to see what I end up with. I bought 15 roses for about $2 and declared the 7th of every month, ‘Buy myself flowers Day.” We had a good time and the girls missed their bus and were forced to spend the night with us. It made me feel really special that they came so far for my birthday just to hang out. They definitely sacrificed their day off to have us drag them all over district 6 of HCM City. It feels pretty rotten to have people sacrifice for you when you are having a bad attitude. But it was a wonderful day-after-birthday surprise.

WE HAVE POWER! Sept. 4, 2009

After several days of writing haikus, playing MASH (it turns out, my first born son will be called Angkor Wat and that the family vehicle will be a cyclo), and eating oreos by candlelight, our electricity was turned on sometime this afternoon. The only casualties in this ordeal were some leftovers and fruit in the fridge that we just didn't have a chance to get around to. We have also learned the Vietnamese word for power bill, though we can't actually pronounce it yet.

This video is from last week:

Every day I would see these little white puffy things in what looked like a glass case. It looked like a crunchy meringue to me and I had a sweet tooth and was excited about digging into it. I paid the woman for it and when she opened the door, I realized that it was in some kind of steam oven, not just sitting on a shelf. And as I carried it away, I noticed that it wasn't light and airy, but it heavy like a brick; that was intriguing. Next time Erica will get to try one with video.

American Visitors

Brittany and Steph (teaching in Bien Hoa) came to visit for the weekend and go to fellowship with us. We had a good time and we got to show them a couple of our favorite places around town.
















One day we came out of a bookstore, where we finally bought a Vietnamese to English dictionary, and it was raining. No, not raining. Pouring. No, not pouring. The sky had opened up and was dumping on us. We thought we had experienced rain in Vietnam, but we were wrong. If we had, we would have known that we must carry our ponchos with us wherever we go. We also would have known that we would need to bring a change of clothes with us to school. below are picture from the taxi that we hailed after running the 15 yards from the door to the bus stop.

Later, Brittany and I were already completely soaked, so we left to get dinner. The ponchos kept

the food dry at least. Erica and I can't help but be loyal to the little stands where we go eat. The women are so nice to us and want to help us the best they can. The lady we buy omlettes from

packed everything up in plastic bags and this time she slipped some candies in the bag too. I didn't notice them until I got back to the house. They were disgusting, but we appreciated it anyway.

Finally got to write Haikus

Two days ago our power was out (and it still is). No big deal. It has happened before. We assumed that everyone’s power was out too. That night when we came back to our apartment, the power was still out and everyone around us had power. Suddenly in realization, we remembered that piece of paper that had been pushed under our door that morning. It was in Vietnamese so we didn’t know what it said. Please enjoy this little snippet of our night:

Getting light by flame
And a headlamp on my head
We write this for you

Erica translates
That power is not on
We already knew

The name on the bill
We do not know who they are
But they didn’t pay

Our landlord is nice
She doesn’t speak English, so
We don’t really know

It is fortunate
There is no meat in our fridge
It would stink by now

What perfect timing
Day before a holiday
No one to help us

Independence Day
Is a holiday for us
And for our power

Entertain ourselves
Shadow puppets on the wall
The milk is lukewarm

Look for my glasses
I hear a soft crunching sound
Oh, not a good noise

Electricity
We’ve taken you for granted
Now we are sorry