Some normal stuff

I'm going to take a cue from Jillann here and write about some of the things that happen every day that I might not think to write about.

I was riding on my bike yesterday, struggling with my skirt, concerned that it was riding up as I rode. I felt a hand cup my butt and I quickly turned back and it was my friend Phượng. "Stop worry," she said. "Nobody look at you!"

"Not true," I told her. "Everyone is looking at me. I just can't figure out if they're looking at my white face or my skirt!"

Phượng and I went to Dam Sen Water Park. Jenni met us a little later because she had to teach. It was like 'kids day' or something because it was packed with little unsupervized children running around yelling HELLO! at us and bumping us with their inner tubes. They finally left and all of a sudden the park seemed empty! It was a good time.

One ride called "Boomerang" is my favorite and we did that a couple of times. obviously, it goes back and forth a few times, but the first drop is my favorite.


For the past few weeks, I've gotten finished early, or after the first shift on Fridays. I prepare for my Saturday classes and then ride my bike over the bridge to get my doner kebab. Trey showed me these the first time in Germany. In Vietnam, they're called Bánh mì tâm giác, or triangle sandwich. The pita is in the shape of a triangle.

The man who makes them is Mr. Nguyên (same as about 60% of all men in this country) and we always make casual small talk in Vietnamese when I go. He usually comments on how long it has been since I've bought a triangle sandwich from him, and don't I like them? I assure him that I love them and he smiles because he just wanted to hear me say that.

Then he compliments my Vietnamese (out of politeness) and I say no, it's terrible. Then he hands me my triangle sandwich and asks me where I work. I tell him (I swear I tell him every time), and we talk until he gives me my change and then I'm on my way. I love his triangle sandwiches.

I played a love song for my 10-12 year old students this morning. They loved it. They love Backstreet boys and anything that sounds like boy bands or pop. They are one of the highest levels that study on Saturday mornings and a couple of the boys are really strong in English.

I asked them, "How old do you need to be to have a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

-"20"

-"16"

-"18"

-"I will never love."

Those were just a few responses, but I had to pause to write down the last one so I wouldn't forget. That was from my student named Strike, who has a very deep raspy voice for a 12 year old and sings loudly to any song I play.

Later on I asked them how old they think I am. One of my students who had me in a previous class yelled, 25! And Beef, another student said quietly under his breath, "That's why you're getting married..."