Christmas in Vietnam. part 3/3

I have asked why Vietnam celebrates Christmas. Multiple times. The answers that I receive don't make sense to me, but by observation, I think that Vietnam celebrates because people like to decorate, and because they like to sell things.

I also discovered that most people (ok 'most' might be pushing it. A LOT of people) even go to a church on Christmas Eve. I was given directions to a church from my Buddhist friend and she said she was going to go too. I ended up not going, so I can't report on that experience. Sorry.

I have a level 3 class. I don't really know how to describe what level three really means. Our last lesson was on countable and uncountable breakfast foods (which they don't eat for breakfast here). So, "two eggs," "one banana," "a biscuit," and "a glass of milk," and "a cup of tea." It's very exciting.

Anyway, this class invited me out for Christmas. They actually were supposed to be in their class with the Vietnamese teacher, but they skipped it, shhh. We piled on motorbikes and went to District One. It was hoppin'.

People and lights everywhere. It took us over an hour and a half to get there and park, and most of the time was spent in stand-still motorbike traffic, where it was hard to breathe and you could FEEL the heat from the exhaust pipes rising. It was pretty awesome. There was a Santa on a motorbike handing out candy and I got some. Here is my student Fiona. She's really sweet. She's the lowest in my class and I don't understand her very well at all.

Erica took a picture of some kid wearing light-up devil horns. Minutes later, my students presented her with horns of her very own. I laughed, and they asked me if I liked them. I said, "NO!" leaving no room for error.

Then they bought some for me.

The decorations were really magnificent. We've been watching the progress weekly in the daytime, on Sundays when we come, but this was our first time at night. People were everywhere. Which means that people selling things are everywhere. And there are no trashcans, so the ground is covered in trash. Don't worry though. The Govn't has people to clean that up. And they will. Quickly. I'm not being sarcastic.

We went for coffee and Erica and I taught them the Signs game. Which was harder than you might imagine because of the language barrier. But it was a big hit. Some classes ruin good games. This class makes even the stupidest game fun. I love them.

They were also selling cans of- what smelled like shaving cream. They blasted it in the air and it looked like snow. And it evaporated from your clothing in a matter of minutes. Also people threw confetti everywhere. I turned around one time when someone was throwing confetti, and he let me have a handful to throw.

These- above and below-- are my two favorite pictures. I was taking them of people in front of the tree. But the camera wouldn't take. I didn't understand. I think it was trying to tell me that I didn't have enough light. Either way, it went off twice on a delay, just as Fiona was coming over to help me, and some guys came over to spray fake snow.

I am so thankful that they asked us to hang out. We had no plans otherwise. I really wanted to go to an orphanage or something like that. But we were informed that when foreigners get involved with charity work of any kind, the govern't will get suspicious. So we were turned down by people who were desperate for help. Ouch.

This is a video that I took trying to get through the traffic. We only had three guys with us, but they were great at herding us all, and keeping us together through the traffic.

Please notice that I say, "congo line."

Christmas part 2

On Christmas Eve, Brittany and Steph rode four hours on a bus for just a couple of hours in Ho Chi Minh City. We walked around, saw the decorations, and exchanged gifts in a coffee shop in District one, called "Angel-In-Us" coffee. I thought it was a bit ironic considering the season. And considering the fact that the only way I'll ever have an angel inside of me is if I eat one.

And next up (actually these pictures are out of order), I was asked (we were kind of given the ultimatum that it was going to be one of the two of us) to be Mrs. Claus in our school's program for the younger students.

I had seen Santa outfits for sale on the street, and they were usually paired with a really skanky outfit for a girl, so I was VERY nervous that they wanted me to wear one of those. I expressed my concern about not being able to fit in it, and I think they ran out and foudn the largest one they could get. Here I am with the only other American teacher, Phillip, from Indiana.

Some of my students also took part in the program by singing Jingle Bells, We Wish you a Merry Christmas, and Joy to the World. That's right. They sang "Joy to the Word." I'm sure they had no idea what the words meant, but they sang it. Basically. And very loudly, over some of the loudest music I've ever heard.
It was kind of unbelievable. I don't know if I can really describe it. My job was to hand out presents and I read one of the letters that someone wrote in the Letter to Santa contest. It was fantastic. If I can get a copy of it, I'll put it on here. I just smiled a lot, and sweated imensely.

They also had a couple of fashion shows in the program. Erica fimed this on the projected screen outside. Some of my Kitty students were in it. I can't get them to stand up and sit down, so I am amazed that someone choreographed with them.

Christmas part 1

A week or so ago, we went to District one and were Christmas tourists. We bought the hats and took pictures of the decorations, and overpaid for a Santa balloon (I did, however, talk him down 30,000vnd, and I am still proud about that). There were hundreds of people out on the street taking their pictures in front of the decorations. We were the only ones who bought those particular hats though...

We ended the night watching Christmas movies with Janell, Aletta, their friends Hong and Catherine (who talks just like Aunt Cynthia, though she's Australian and has lived in Brittain), and shoot I forgot the name of the other friend.

I began to feel like it was actually Christmas

.

I seriously thought they would all be making peace signs. Either way, I would like to announce/confess that it now comes naturally. When someone has a camera, the peace sign just happens. I can't explain it. I KNOW! I'm so embarassed. I have no idea how this came about, and I have no excuse other than my present location.

Saturday (tomorrow in Asia. get it?)

Sometimes I don't blog because I have nothing to say. Sometimes I don't blog because I have too much to say. This time is one of the latter.


Where do I begin?

And just as I wrote that last sentance, I received a call from our office to substitute a class tonight, so I need to go to the school and get the book and then write some lesson plans.

My classes this morning were a little rough. The first class was not so bad. My CD was skipping on the lesson about animals in Australia, but fortunately I already know the song, 'Kukaburro' (though I may not know how to spell it) by heart. And Ranger and his sister Jessica always come by my classroom to smile and wave. I love that. Sometimes they come in the middle of class to say hello, and I smile, evily comforted by the fact that they are no picnic for their new teacher either.

Here are some of my former students in the hall. From the left: Ranger, Jessica, Yang, Mary, Eddie.


The second class was crazy. I sometimes let the kids use my markers to draw the pictures from the book, and I did that today. I let them go, and they drew, and wiped the board, and drew some more. They love it. There is a rag for wiping the board, but I noticed that it lay on the table untouched, and I looked over at what they were using. Small, wrinkled, torn pieces littered the floor, they were using the tissue that I had been blowing my nose with all morning.

Others crawled on the floor in the corner trying to pick up stray pieces of glitter and show them to me. The door was constantly opening and shutting with children who said they needed to use the bathroom or drink water; I don't know if I could ever tell them they can't, for fear of the consequences.


I suppose this is a normal class for a large group of 5 and 6 year olds in a small room with flimsy excuses for desks (FIVE newly broken desks before my class started today), playing marbles, cards, and eating candy at break. And Jack came to me with gum in hs hair this morning. They fight and cry and tell me, "No!" sometimes. However, I have found that if one of my students starts singing a certain song, they will all join in (LOUDLY) and it takes me a good five minutes to quiet them down. It's the Vietnamese National Anthem.

This video is Calvin. He is my favorite, hands down (Notice how he gets on to the girl who is blocking the video of him). He can frustrate me, but I forgive him immediately because he is my favorite. He's just so darn cute. And one day I read a book and he was talking while I read it. I started to recognize some of the words, and realized he was translating for the other students. Not because he speaks English. He just looked at the pictures and took it upon himself to tell the class. He also helps me take roll. I'm almost embarassed that I am so unashamed for having a favorite. Almost.

My Kitty Mickey Class (that's really what it's called)

I took pictures of all of the students in my new youngest class. I only see them on Saturdays so I have a hard time remembering their names. Erica and I often talk about with frustration how our students are programmed to listen to a CD. They don't readily listen to my voice, but I press 'play,' and I have all of their attention immediately. It drives me crazy (This class is no exception).

Students in Vietnam are also programmed to be tested. Were we tested when we were little?? I don't remember that! But my students bring me their work, and I originally thought it was just to show me, but they were expecting me to grade it. It's simple sentances and a drawing. I give everyone a 10 (highest grade) and a check and a smiley face. I mean, I had no idea how to grade, but they're five and six years old! The goal is for them to learn English right? Who cares about the grades (not a sentiment shared by many)?

I really do like this class more and more each week. After the first class, I actually counted how many more days I would have them. Last week I read a book to them, and they (who were paying attention) were riveted. For not understanding what the story was about, they were surprisingly glued. I even stood up and jumped for emphasis and they all yelled at me to sit down because they couldn't see (I translated that myself). They still hand feed me (from their germy hands) candy and chips they want to share, and giggle and hug me whenever they see me.

9 Days until Christmas

It is Wednesday, December the 16th here and it blows my mind. How did this happen? Maybe it's because it's so hot here that we didn't notice Christmas sneaking up. Maybe it's because we've been busy. Maybe it's because we don't have a tree and haven't bought any gifts, and that's why Christmas is all of a sudden UPON US!

No time to blog or journal: a situation that needs to be remedied. For now, I was walking down the street the other day and some people were chopping up a tree and shredding it. I asked what it was and they it was a papaya tree. Apparently, they use all of it for something, maybe juice, I don't remember what they said. As is usual when I say "What is that?" in Vietnamese, they assume that I know Vietnamese (which I love and wouldn't want to change) and wanted to ask me every question I could answer. Even though I barely understand a word when they ramble, I just stick with the answers I know: "country America," "24," "husband, not yet," "teacher, language English, Binh Phu Street."

I asked Erica to take out her camera to take a picture of them, and the girl jumped up to be in the picture with me. I haven't seen her since. But I like her.

My friend Yem

This is Chi (prefix for older female) Yem (sounds like eeem). I love her. She and her parents have a juice shop on our walk home from school. She speaks very little English, but for some reason we communicate with each other very well. I love her voice and I think she's so beautiful.

I've talked about Yem and her parents before and they are so generous with us. They will just sit and talk with us, though usually they bring out some fruit or some ice tea. This particular night, she brought out what i think is sweet coconut milk with soybeans and raisins in it. I think she was explaining to me that it would good to eat before bed, but if I eat too much, i will be very fat.

I didn't know how to ask them to say hello to the people who read my blog, so I asked her to say hello to my mom and dad. I think she got stage fright because she's speaking a mixture of Vietnamese and the few English words that she knows.

Mũi Nè

Photo's courtesy of Lance and Kristen Baker and Erica Palmer.

Vietnam Thanksgiving 2009

Welcome to Thanksgiving in Vietnam 2009. Here I am the night before as Erica and I created Indian and Pilgrim attire and names for the other members of our team. In order to make them fit other normal head-sized people, I had to make them too small to fit my head, and too big for Erica's.

I made the pilgrim hat for Lance a little lopsided. I thought I was going to have to bribe people to wear them, but they all wore them for like three hours or more without complaining. That made me so happy. Even Suz. She might not look happy about it, but she accepted her role as Chief very readily.The team was supposed to go to a restuarant that night to eat, but because there were so many differing arrival times, the task fell on the HCMC team (Erica and Carolyn) to find a place to eat in our city. We decided on OUR APARTMENT.I tried to act like it was no big deal, but inside I was SO PLEASED. How sweet to help prepare Thanksgiving dinner in Vietnam. We had to borrow plates and forks, and Nikki bought glasses for us to have. And everyone squeezed together and had a place to sit. We had stuffing, sweet potatoes, a big salad (we have 3 vegetarians on our team) and some roasted duck and gravy. Fine, fine, I bought the duck already cooked, but I mixed it with a little pork and onions.Steph and Brittany brought rolls and sparkling apple cider, which when opened, almost killed me. Everything seemed appropriate, just like the first Thanksgiving. We have so much to be thankful for.Sure Steph looks disguested, and she only has salad and a roll on her plate, but she liked it.It was really fun being back with everyone. All of these people that I really only knew for one month for training are now part of my family.We left to catch a bus to take us to District one to catch another bus.And I almost single handedly ruined everything due to my eternal bus optimism. "It'll come guys! Don't worry. Five more minutes."

We got a couple of taxis before it was too late and caught our bus to Mũi Nè. I sat shotgun with the driver and tried to talk with him for the five hours it took. After we stopped to go to the bathrooms, he bought me a bánh bao (sweet bread with meat and quail eggs in it) and offered me candy and water and a toothpick and a cloth to wash up. He also asked for my phone number, but unfortunately I don't know it...

Happy Buy Myself Flowers Day to you again!

Here are Monday's flowers, which have opened up more and smell really great. In honor of this day (the 7th of every month, in case you've forgotten), I am looking back two more times in the past couple of weeks that I have received flowers in odd situations.

We were told over and over that we would get lots of presents for Teachers' Day. And since it was this special day, they canceled classes. So we didn't see any students. And we didn't get any presents. We were disappointed. Then one of my level one students made this for me a few days later and salvaged it. I was so shocked that I couldn't remember the student's name and I blanked in front of all of the other teachers. Fortunately, I think it just looked like I was so in awe that I was speechless.

Sunday night we attended our first Vietnamese wedding. More on that later. Our friend who invited us had one of the caterers bring Erica and I the roses off one of the tables. Then she said something else to them and they brought the bride's bouquet over and she handed it to me.

I pushed the bouquet back towards her and tried to explain that I couldn't take it. She kept pushing it towards me, so I finally relented (you might not believe it, but I really was trying to NOT take it). So, I carried it around for the rest of the night, so awkwardly, trying to hide what I felt like I was STEALING from a party that I wasn't even invited to. As if I didn't stand out enough by having one of the two blonde heads in a room of hundreds...