Good soup

Yesterday was wonderful and tiring and hilarious. Here are a few snippets from the day:

I went for a walk down a street I haven’t been down yet and saw a tailor. I went inside just to look around. As usual, my presence caused great commotion—I don’t know why I keep thinking that I can go unnoticed. The English-speaking son was fetched and he told me that no foreigner had ever been in their shop before. They wanted me to sit and look through many magazines to tell them "what my style is". Later they pushed me into an area, guarded by a thin sheet and told me to put on a green shirt that they had in stock (maybe the only thing there that would fit me?). I obliged and they told me that it was “good for me.” They showed me a fabric with which they wanted to make me a new shirt. I put my hand behind the fabric and explained that it was not good because it was “see-through.” The son looked struck with embarrassment and he whispered to his mother. There was talking and more whispering in the office and finally the embarrassed son told me, “It is ok. You must wear underwear or it will be very bad.”

There is a coffee shop almost across the street from our apartments, where a woman with a sad beautiful smile serves coffee, tea and other drinks. Twice I have gestured for her to sit down and she has been more than happy to sit and try to communicate. One day last week I planned my lessons at one of her tables and she came over and wrote in my notebook. Together we worked through it and I deciphered an invitation to her house on Sunday night to speak English with her daughter and nieces (I actually didn’t know that was the reason until I showed up). On Monday night I came to the same shop to have milk with a new friend. After a couple of hours I turned to leave, saying goodbye to the girl and to the woman. The woman smiled her sad beautiful smile as I walked past her and she reached out and slapped me on the arm! I quickly wondered what I must have done to deserve that, and she smiled broadly and said in slow, labored English, “You are beautiful.” I thanked her and left.

I bought some duck soup for dinner and was anxious to try it. I decided that I also needed some dessert, so I walked down the street to the pastry stand on the corner. I’m sure it’s a family that owns this and there is a little boy who brings the food and pastries out to the motorbike drivers. He’s so cute and I like to talk to him because I can ask him the names of all the pastries and he seems so proud to be able to help me. Today I picked a small coconut bun and asked the price. I pulled out a 2,000vnd note and it ripped completely in half! Laughter ERUPTED from everyone in the vicinity, probably at my shocked face. I know from experience that it’s hard to get rid of a bill with a rip in it, much less torn in half. The little boy giggled uncontrollably, and didn’t stop when I pulled out another bill with exaggerated care and slowness. Even as I left, they all smiled and laughed in my direction. They better be glad that I like to entertain, otherwise I would have been very distraught.

On my walk home, I showed the torn bill to a woman who I wave at everyday, hoping for a laugh. She pulled out some glue and took the bill from my hands. It disintegrated at her touch and she handed it back to me with a sorrowful look and a wave of her hand, and I imagined her saying, “There’s no hope for this one poor child. Let it go.”

I walked back in the gate of our apartment, waving at the security guards and taxi workers, pleased at the day, hungry and tired. I hadn’t eaten in over seven hours, a rarity for me. The security guards waved me over and a girl there asked me if I had free time. I have GOT to learn how to say, “no!” I was just so curious to find out what they wanted, and after a quick phone call, they motioned for me to walk and as I did, I was met by a woman. She apparently is an english teacher and heard that there were foreigners in our apartment complex and has been wanting to meet us so she can practice her English!

Another hour and a half later, I was reheating my soup on the stove to sit down and watch soccer on tv. I'm learning more about the concept of time here and the importance of relationships. And the soup was worth the wait.

The Palmers in Vietnam

Erica's parents arrived in Vietnam on Thursday of last week. It was fun showing them around the distric that I have become so proud of. I wanted them to see how wonderful the people really are, and as usual, the people obliged.


We took them to several places that we frequent and rode a bus to a local market. We also took them to have fruit juice at the shop with the young woman and her father, who speaks a little English. We introduced Erica's parents and the woman brought out a plate of fruit for us (it was some kind of white melon, but more chewy than juicy, not very good, but a very nice gesture). Then the man came out, producing a small box of candy, motioning for me to take it and put it in my bag. "Souvinir!" He announced proudly.

I keep being blown away by the generoity of the people here. I'm self-conscious that we are being offensive because we don't invite people over or invite people to have coffee with us. I hope we aren't offending anyone. I really like that no one comes to our apartment so it can be an escape for us, but we shall see how long it lasts.




We also took them out for sugar cane juice. We only buy it from this woman. Erica has been adament about our loyalty to her, and I am glad. It just seemed like betrayal to have sugar can juice in our hands when we walk by her (her stand is about 20 yards from our apartment).

Erica and her parents went to Danang for a long weekend. I am staying here by myself and the familiar faces I pass on the street seem genuinely concerned about Erica and why she isn't with me. Maybe they think we are fighting.

Please don't be concerned. I feel very safe in our neighborhood and even riding the bus across the city to fellowship yesterday. And anyone who knows me well probably knows how much I am enjoying a few days of alone time. Erica and I are getting along fine and I don't want to be here alone for very long, but sometimes time alone can be so refreshing. In reality, Erica is probably benefitting more from having a vacation from me.

So anyway, Erica has her camera this weekend. You thought it was mine didn't you? Nope, I just treat it like it's mine. I still don't have a camera, but I've been looking around. Here is a video from last week. We went in a shop to buy new notebooks and this woman just walked up to us in the shop and started talking and laughing. She patted us roughly on the arms and laughed and had the most beautiful smile. As soon as I started filming, she stopped speaking and laughing as much. I didn't understand anything she said, but her laugh and smile required a video.

Cassie's Birthday Adventure

Today I went to the market and WHO should I run into, but CASSIE SHIELDS!! How exciting! The two of us were discussing the price of rice and the shopkeeper saw a picture being taken and she jumped up and stood next to me smiling (not kidding). It was hilarious. She was really a great sport.

Later, Cassie and I stopped for something cold to drink. We sat in the little kiddie chairs and shared great conversation.

I have been ordering soymilk at these roadside stands because I don't want coke or orange fanta. I actually really like it now. Cassie really liked it too!

Cassie almost got in trouble with the police. She forgot to wear a helmet! That was very careless of you, Cassie! Everything was fine though; she is a very skilled driver.

For some reason I sneezed about a million times in my class last night. I felt like I was having allergies for no reason. Cassie was very sympathetic and really cheered me up. We stopped at this little shop and had steaming hot noodle soup. And we just shot the breeze. We discussed life, love, and new adventures while sitting in the little plastic kiddie chairs. Cassie, as usual, was all smiles.

That was a really good time. I will cherish these memories.

These pictures are a little out of order, but here we are hanging out before class...

Many Vietnamese are supersticious of the numbers 3, 5, and 7. These are my students who came early to class to finish eating. They wouldn't take a picture with just me because that would be three people (meaning unfortunate consequences for the person in the middle). Thanks Cassie for making this picture possible.

This woman is possibly my favorite person in this country. I just love her smile (that's about all the communication that happens). I wanted her to have a picture with Cassie, but she got so excited about the picture that she threw her arm around me, smiling from ear to ear. So, Cassie and I both got a hug from my favorite person for the first time. It was really special.

Cassie thanks for coming out for your birthday! I know it was quite a distance from Peru, or wherever you are at this moment, but I really had a great time. Come back soon!

My boyfriend

Ok, Andrea don't freak out. It's not true. However, Erica and I have started referring to a person as my "boyfriend" because of various funny reasons. Really this story was only for a select group (and their names are Laura, Erin, Katie, Helen if you read this, Kris...), but this was my best medium for telling it.

Ok, so there's a guy, who will remain nameless and faceless because he could google my name and find this blog. He works in the office where we teach and we usually see him every day. In the beginning, I got such a kick out of talking with him because he has almost no expression at all. He would say, "You see, it is very exciting..." with these slow unnatural words, with the most deadpan face you've ever seen. He also says that EVERYTHING is "delicious" and "good for you health." Those are his signiature phrases. It's almost impossible to have a conversation with him without him saying something like this. It's really entertaining.

Let's be straightforward here: I DO NOT like this man. It's not a remote possibility.

I just know that it's because of my own stupidity that I keep finding myself in these situations, but I like to practice Vietnamese and he likes to practice English, so we usually make small talk in the office. Lately, when Erica has class, I come to the office and read or plan my lessons. But this guy will pull up a stool next to him and tell me to sit down. Not ask. Tell. I've used various excuses, and he has gotten me out of each one (Erica and I try to be very conscious about our interactions with the opposite sex, and since we have so much to learn about the culture here, we try never to be alone with guys. ever). I feel more at ease when other people in the office come over to hear my explanation of some idiom or to listen to me butcher their native tongue.

I'm not sure exactly why we gave him this nickname, "Carolyn's boyfriend," because he has told Erica that she's beautiful several times and never told me that (lousy boyfriend). I accuse Erica of being naïve about her older guy students flirting with her, and I don't think I'm doing that here. Though I can't really figure this guy out (or make eye contact with him) I just keep having the most awkward interactions (story of my life) with him. Here is merely one of them:

I want to get a video of him talking because I think it would be enjoyable. I really shouldn't even be talking about him though. Gosh, now I feel bad... I'm misusing this blog!

Our Apartment

I told you that our landlady and her daughters came to get us and take us to a different apartment. It was nice. Actually, it was IDENTICAL to our current apartment except for the headboards on the beds and the view from the windows. Ok... that's not entirely true. That apartment seemed to have just been finished with a little work left to do.

Erica and I talked about it. I kind of wanted to move because of a leaky toilet and a leaky air conditioner, but kind of didn't want to move because I HATE moving. We're comfortable here and we like our neighbors. Moving, besides being a hassle, would be kind of a gamble. The new apartment is on the 10th floor of the "E" building and we don't know the new neighbors. There could be lots of young people to talk with and become our new best friends. Or the new apartment could be the haven for all of the screaming babies in the city. We just don't know.

So, we're talking about it, thinking, and I'm pretty sure that we probably won't move because neither of us felt very strongly about it. Then I received the following text:

"Hi Carolyn and Erica, my mom love both you. therefore, my mom want to change new department for both you. there, you feel comfotable and fresh air so much. furrniture sufficient. :) sorry for troublesome some you."

Then a moment later:

"If you want some one help you. my mom and some young man help you both everywhere. dont worry..goodnight..:)"

Our landlady and her daughter seemed pretty adament that we should move to this newer and better apartment and we really couldn't think of a reason to protest. They also seemd to say that whenever we were ready, we could move at our convenience. The next day I had four missed calls on my cell phone. Ok, I was actually holding my phone when it rang, but sometimes I do that (in my defense, I didn't recognize the number).

It turns out that our school had been trying to get in touch with us so we could move ASAP! It was our day off, so we started packing. We have acquired books and some household items (water filter, electric kettle, towels, etc), but overall we don't have an abundance of things so it wasn't the normal misery that I expect from moving. Our landlady's daughter came over and got us started moving out. We got the suitcases to the elevator, and the landlady called. Her daughter translated, "Ok, so you move in three days."

Today

Good day today. Great day.

Erica and I made breakfast and got some coffee-to-go on our way to the bus stop. We passed a woman who we wave to every day and she looked genuinely hurt that we bought coffee somewhere else. We had no idea that she sold coffee! Using charades we tried to express that we would never again violate our friendship by doing such a horrendous thing as buying coffee from someone else. She silently nodded in understanding and we berated ourselves for not knowing (we're very eager to please).

The bus ride went smoothly. Erica was offered a seat when someone got off. She gestured to an older woman to sit, and the woman thanked her but declined. She gave us an explanation, but we didn't understand. So Erica sat, and the two American girls on the bus (I’m talking about us), along with the usual stares, received approving looks from many other passengers, and a peace sign from the grinning guy in the back seat.

We got off the bus and crossed the street like pros. Our fellowship is now meeting in a different location every week and we started walking to where we thought we were supposed to go. A woman from our fellowship pulled over on her motorbike and offered us a ride. She had dropped her kids off and come back for us. This might seem like a small gesture, but each week we are asked, “Oh are you new here?” Granted, we are only averaging every-other week at this fellowship, but we recognize so many people there, so we are starting to wonder what it is about us that makes us so easily forgotten. Erica and I squeezed on the back of the motorbike smiling, thankful to be remembered.

The talk was given by Steve, from South Africa, and his accent (I’m with you Janell) makes one pay attention. He spoke on ‘dealing with offence (I’ll complain about British spelling later),’ and spoke on revenge, forgiveness, justice, mercy, and grace. They're going through Acts right now and he began by scoffing at those people who talk about all of the things they would say to the Father if they had the chance. And he reminded us of Paul, who saw just a glimpse of a bright light and was struck down and blind. He had my attention the entire time, and not just because of the accent.

Afterwards we went to a Thai restaurant in District 1 with Janell, Jannene, and Sarah. Great food, great people. I love hearing about Janell's and Sarah's jobs, dealing with HIV and reproductive health. I think I'd like to do something like that. I’ll just skip over our major topics of conversation, save those gems for another time.

Later, we wandered aimlessly in search of dinner. Seriously. Aimlessly. We were just talking and trying not to get hit by motorbikes. We ended up at a place that we pass every day on our way to school, but usually they’re not serving any food, only chopping raw meat out on the tables. Not tonight. We walked up and immediately all eyes fell on US. I was suddenly concerned that I had forgotten to wear pants or something. We sat and started looking at the menu and I had that “feeling.” I look up and not only are all of the other patrons stopped eating (AND talking) to watch us, but the entire staff has come out, the cooking has come to a halt, everyone just standing, staring unashamedly.

We wanted to try to order in Vietnamese, but they scrambled to find someone who spoke English (poorly). I know they are really going out of their way to show us hospitality in doing this, but it drives me craaaazy. He interpreted all of the words we already knew: fish, chicken, rice, egg. Thank-you sir. We shared noodles with beef and within one bite we promised to come back to this delicious place. Most of the eyes wandered back to their own food, but the eyes of the woman w2ho had cooked our food, never wavered from us. She watched every bite.

Not quite full after our shared entre, we went for fruit juice. There is a woman there who really goes out of her way to act out each fruit. It’s really comical actually. One day I pointed to the word that eventually turned out to be honey, but she enacted a bee coming to bite her arm and how much it hurt. That one took a while to figure out. There is an old man there too, her father perhaps. He likes to practice his English numbers and greetings with us.

He’s a sweet man, though the conversation was a bit painful. Erica and I made eye contact, signaling the time to make an exit. I started to reach into my bag for money and when I looked up, the man had a HUGE grin on his face and was pulling up a chair.

He sat down and we went over fruits… their names in English and Vietnamese, very slowly and painfully. Then we spent another 20 minutes on one question that we’re still not sure about. Then Erica and I walked home and discussed today's blogability. And that brings us to now. Great day.