Well I think it is going pretty well so far. My students are in their late teens or twenties, most of them are applying to study in foreign English-speaking universities. None of my students have run away in terror, or started throwing coconuts at me. As long as I am somewhere in between those points I can call myself a success … ? So far I teach a four hour morning class some days, and a two hour evening class. The things that are difficult for me are not surprises. I have to talk loudly for a long time, so I have a sore throat. I have to go fast enough to keep the ‘smart’ students awake (those who have already done the exercises in the book before we even get there) and slow enough not to lose everyone else. I am supposed to teach grammar points to students who usually know more about English grammar than I do. Knowing grammar and knowing how to communicate effectively are very different things! I have to make mundane subjects interesting by virtue of the difficulty of communicating in a second language. Well, or I have to try at least.
One class this week we talked about music. The text had some readings from Paul McCartney’s book, and I brought in a cd with various styles of music to talk about. Well, really just to amuse the students on Friday. None of them like Gregorian Chant. None of them like Muddy Waters. None of them like The Beatles. Most of them liked Eminem, and squarely at the top of the heap, the very epitome of popularity - Peter, Paul and Mary singing Puff the Magic Dragon. I expect that has more to do with the understandability (!) of the lyrics than the music.
Down the street from my school is a French deli/restaurant where you can get a baguette sandwich for lunch with cheeses like gorgonzola, Blue d’auvergne, etc. I picked the right street to work on. Plus, on the same street, you can get bun cha which I will explain some other day. So, yeah, my job is going pretty well.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
All the news, that isn't
Pieces of the news that make me look twice, for whatever reason:
Dalat, in the south central highlands of Vietnam, the only place I’ve been here that had lakes, hills, evergreen trees, and COOL WEATHER, also is famous for vegetables and flowers, and is exporting roses, lilies, tulips, crysanthemums and carnations to Russia.
And new words always pop up here and there:
“Dac Nong General hospital completed successfully a risky heart surgery.No mention of how or why there just happened to be a knife in this guys heart.
Doctors at the hospital removed a 2.7 cm knife from the heart of Dang Nguyen
Hoang Minh, 26, a resident of Quang Tan Commune…”
“Vietnamese flowers exported to Russia”
Dalat, in the south central highlands of Vietnam, the only place I’ve been here that had lakes, hills, evergreen trees, and COOL WEATHER, also is famous for vegetables and flowers, and is exporting roses, lilies, tulips, crysanthemums and carnations to Russia.
And new words always pop up here and there:
"Vietnamese and African educationists sat together in HaNoi yesterday to share
their respective experiences in educational reform and development."
Monday, June 19, 2006
Big news, little news
Here is a link to a very interesting article from the Times on Vietnam-US relations in light of Chinese influence in SE Asia. A topic I read a lot about while I was studying here, it is fascinating and aside from being informative, the article has a good picture of the sea of motorbikes that is pretty much any major street in Ho Chi Minh City, or here in Hanoi. I'm trying to imagine the mess if people start buying Harley's instead of old pseudo-Hondas. And the franchise they mention, Pho 24, is truly something different, that I didn't see here three years ago. In spite of it being compared to Mcdonald's, I actually like it a lot. Less character, more consistent. I guess that is McDonalds...
And, in my small world, I got a job. More on that later after I've actually started working and can talk intelligently about it. I do hope, however, to do better than the $640 per capita income quoted in the above article...
Ðọc đi làm vui - Read and be happy (VERY loosely, for anybody who actually knows Vietnamese)
And, in my small world, I got a job. More on that later after I've actually started working and can talk intelligently about it. I do hope, however, to do better than the $640 per capita income quoted in the above article...
Ðọc đi làm vui - Read and be happy (VERY loosely, for anybody who actually knows Vietnamese)
Thursday, June 15, 2006
First, there is green space.
GREEN space. Put this photo at the beginning of the next blog, that is where its home is, but it is currently lost.
All the stuff you will see...
... when you come to visit me, in Hanoi.
Once upon a time, roughly July 27th 1048 A.D. at 4:30 in the afternoon, a Golden Buffalo Calf ran wildly in circles and tramped a vast area of ground. You see, the Golden Buffalo Calf (GBC) thought he heard his mother’s call, so he ran south to Vietnam from China where he lived. What the GBC actually heard was the ringing of bronze bell of gargantuantic proportions.
This bell, you see, was made from a mountain of bronze that was given to one Khong Lo, a Vietnamese monk, by the emperor of China in return for some unnamed valiant service. And so, you see, of course, the place where the venerable GBC trampled so energetically naturally gave up the ghost as a trampling place and became a Hồ Tay place, West Lake. This, by the way, is Hồ Tay.
Mid 15th Century, Vietnamese emperor Le Loi wrangled, at a bargain basement price, a magic sword from the heavens and with it he pricked, poked and prodded the Chinese invaders until they left Vietnam. After pricking, poking and prodding for so long he needed a break, so he bought some flowers for his favorite sword and took it for a boat ride on the lake. Suddenly, with loud Shastokovichian music, a giant golden tortoise whizzing by on a jetski reached out and grabbed the sword. The tortoise then won a race with a hare to the bottom of the lake.
Apparently, the bottom of the lake is a geo-political ally of the heavens because the sword was returned to its rightful owners, and the lake is called Hồ Hoan Kiềm, Lake of the Restored Sword.
St. Joseph’s Cathedral – Gothic 1886 style. Right beside a snobby little café with over-priced and over-delicious chocolate brownie with ice cream things.
And, did I mention, you can draw crayon pictures of Gothic brownies on the table covers. The cafe, that is the cafe not the church. How’s that for a conversation starter?
1911 French opera house where, on 16 Aug 1945, the takeover of Hanoi was announced by the Viet Minh, which is known as the August Revolution.
Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum has Bac Ho (except when he is in Russia for a facelift), it has square space, it is surrounded by park-like quiet (green) space and countless old French buildings used for government offices.
You’re in Vietnam, always more green space…
All the information and fluff is compliments of some books I have, my Vietnamese History class so long ago, and a highly unstable imagination.
Once upon a time, roughly July 27th 1048 A.D. at 4:30 in the afternoon, a Golden Buffalo Calf ran wildly in circles and tramped a vast area of ground. You see, the Golden Buffalo Calf (GBC) thought he heard his mother’s call, so he ran south to Vietnam from China where he lived. What the GBC actually heard was the ringing of bronze bell of gargantuantic proportions.
This bell, you see, was made from a mountain of bronze that was given to one Khong Lo, a Vietnamese monk, by the emperor of China in return for some unnamed valiant service. And so, you see, of course, the place where the venerable GBC trampled so energetically naturally gave up the ghost as a trampling place and became a Hồ Tay place, West Lake. This, by the way, is Hồ Tay.
Mid 15th Century, Vietnamese emperor Le Loi wrangled, at a bargain basement price, a magic sword from the heavens and with it he pricked, poked and prodded the Chinese invaders until they left Vietnam. After pricking, poking and prodding for so long he needed a break, so he bought some flowers for his favorite sword and took it for a boat ride on the lake. Suddenly, with loud Shastokovichian music, a giant golden tortoise whizzing by on a jetski reached out and grabbed the sword. The tortoise then won a race with a hare to the bottom of the lake.
Apparently, the bottom of the lake is a geo-political ally of the heavens because the sword was returned to its rightful owners, and the lake is called Hồ Hoan Kiềm, Lake of the Restored Sword.
St. Joseph’s Cathedral – Gothic 1886 style. Right beside a snobby little café with over-priced and over-delicious chocolate brownie with ice cream things.
And, did I mention, you can draw crayon pictures of Gothic brownies on the table covers. The cafe, that is the cafe not the church. How’s that for a conversation starter?
1911 French opera house where, on 16 Aug 1945, the takeover of Hanoi was announced by the Viet Minh, which is known as the August Revolution.
Ho Chi Minh’s Mausoleum has Bac Ho (except when he is in Russia for a facelift), it has square space, it is surrounded by park-like quiet (green) space and countless old French buildings used for government offices.
You’re in Vietnam, always more green space…All the information and fluff is compliments of some books I have, my Vietnamese History class so long ago, and a highly unstable imagination.
Friday, June 09, 2006
A Walkabout with your Mouth
Not having a job is a bit of a drag. But it has an up side as well – I spend inordinate amounts of time psychotically analyzing pieces of life that no one (with an actual life) would ever bother to think about. Like, for example, an average evening walkabout with street food – is that cost effective? Is it healthy? Or toxic? Or photogenic? Can I talk about it for a whole blog entry without anyone going to sleep on me??
pre p.s. Some of these things I have linked to recipes, just click on the name...
From my apartment to the amusing part of town (where I can buy a newspaper in English, and restaurants have bad English scattered about on the menu, ex. “Beep Steak”) is about a half hour walk at a good pace. Or I can take a cyclo, for about $1.50. Not much faster, but cooler and I can practice Vietnamese with the driver. The conversation invariably includes: Where are you from? How old are you? Are you married? Vietnamese women are very beautiful, yes? My vocabulary does go a bit farther than that, but not all that much farther.
Having bought my newspaper, I am dragged kicking and screaming (irony alert) into the next sinh to place I see. That is fruit shake, as in mango shake, as in I have never been anywhere else in the world where they have so many fruits that are so good, particularly on a hot day (pretty much any day here is hot) when the fruit is mixed with ice and costs $.50. ‘Nuff said.
After reading the first couple articles in the paper and slurping mango, I am called out to the banh bao box on the sidewalk. These are steamed buns, a cousin I expect of baozi, for anybody who has been to China. Stuffed with ground pork, mushroom and onions, they usually also have a quail egg in there somewhere. Sometimes it is a pickled quail egg, or maybe that is just an old quail egg, I’m not sure… They are sold on the sidewalk where they sit neatly stacked inside a glass case. There is a charcoal fire next to it with a big aluminum pail on it, which is piled full, with water in the bottom I guess, since that keeps them steamed and warm. Anyway, all that to say they are highly delicious (ngon qua) and they cost a good $.32.
If banh bao are not exciting enough for the taste buds, then I can go around the corner and get nem chua. Nem chua are, well they look a bit like skinned hot dogs, but they actually taste much better. Pork, I am told. I'm also told that they are made of the ears of pork, plus assorted other stuff. I don’t know, but they come wrapped in banana leaves and newspaper, and (most importantly) with hot sauce to dip them in. I think of them as boneless buffalo wings – you eat them for the sauce (which is worth eating), not for the thing itself.
And finally, a glass of Che gives me energy for the walk home. Not as in Guevara, I see his picture occasionally here but this is something completely different and uncontroversially good. Che is a drink usually made primarily of mung beans. Ice and sugar, of course, I don’t know what else. You can get lots of different flavors, but it usually comes with chunks of beans and jello-like stuff floating in it. I don’t know what it is, only that it is good.
All this would probably set me back about $3.50, or maybe $3.75 with the newspaper. Cost effective indeed. Healthy? Well I do usually have vegetables at least once a day, and fresh fruit pretty often too, so in context I will declare it nutritionally balanced. Toxic only occasionally, if you mix the wrong kinds of sinh to’s together it can be pretty brutal on the stomach. I’ve been warned about bad nem chua but have never had any problems with it myself. Photogenic, well that is all opinion anyway, you tell me.
pre p.s. Some of these things I have linked to recipes, just click on the name...
From my apartment to the amusing part of town (where I can buy a newspaper in English, and restaurants have bad English scattered about on the menu, ex. “Beep Steak”) is about a half hour walk at a good pace. Or I can take a cyclo, for about $1.50. Not much faster, but cooler and I can practice Vietnamese with the driver. The conversation invariably includes: Where are you from? How old are you? Are you married? Vietnamese women are very beautiful, yes? My vocabulary does go a bit farther than that, but not all that much farther.Having bought my newspaper, I am dragged kicking and screaming (irony alert) into the next sinh to place I see. That is fruit shake, as in mango shake, as in I have never been anywhere else in the world where they have so many fruits that are so good, particularly on a hot day (pretty much any day here is hot) when the fruit is mixed with ice and costs $.50. ‘Nuff said.
After reading the first couple articles in the paper and slurping mango, I am called out to the banh bao box on the sidewalk. These are steamed buns, a cousin I expect of baozi, for anybody who has been to China. Stuffed with ground pork, mushroom and onions, they usually also have a quail egg in there somewhere. Sometimes it is a pickled quail egg, or maybe that is just an old quail egg, I’m not sure… They are sold on the sidewalk where they sit neatly stacked inside a glass case. There is a charcoal fire next to it with a big aluminum pail on it, which is piled full, with water in the bottom I guess, since that keeps them steamed and warm. Anyway, all that to say they are highly delicious (ngon qua) and they cost a good $.32.
If banh bao are not exciting enough for the taste buds, then I can go around the corner and get nem chua. Nem chua are, well they look a bit like skinned hot dogs, but they actually taste much better. Pork, I am told. I'm also told that they are made of the ears of pork, plus assorted other stuff. I don’t know, but they come wrapped in banana leaves and newspaper, and (most importantly) with hot sauce to dip them in. I think of them as boneless buffalo wings – you eat them for the sauce (which is worth eating), not for the thing itself.And finally, a glass of Che gives me energy for the walk home. Not as in Guevara, I see his picture occasionally here but this is something completely different and uncontroversially good. Che is a drink usually made primarily of mung beans. Ice and sugar, of course, I don’t know what else. You can get lots of different flavors, but it usually comes with chunks of beans and jello-like stuff floating in it. I don’t know what it is, only that it is good.
All this would probably set me back about $3.50, or maybe $3.75 with the newspaper. Cost effective indeed. Healthy? Well I do usually have vegetables at least once a day, and fresh fruit pretty often too, so in context I will declare it nutritionally balanced. Toxic only occasionally, if you mix the wrong kinds of sinh to’s together it can be pretty brutal on the stomach. I’ve been warned about bad nem chua but have never had any problems with it myself. Photogenic, well that is all opinion anyway, you tell me.
Monday, May 29, 2006
My life now has a house :)
I have accomplished something. Actually it was mostly through the help of a friend, anyway I got an apartment. Living in a hotel is not good for one’s health. Or one’s wallet. I can now cook a duck in my own kitchen. That is, if I knew how to cook, of course. How difficult can it be to cook a duck anyway?
A couple pictures of my apartment, in case anyone feels inspired to come clean it for me here it is…
From the back porch you can see a tree. That is good. It increases the air quality and the greenness in my life. Vietnam is a very green place. My apartment is not the best place to see that, possibly excepting the floor in certain places lacking the strategic competence to draw my attention to their hue.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Un Nouveau Malaise
Few comments.
Looking for a job is an annoying business.
Sitting in a park is more fun.
The Vietnam Museum of Ethnology is worth a look.
I have run into several French speakers here in Hanoi, and so I have a new kind of headache from conversations in mixtures of three (instead of the typical two) languages. I like this kind of headache.
Playing with my camera at night is a sign that I don’t have enough to do.
Check out this book. Really good. Character definition reminds me of Steinbeck. I like Steinbeck a lot.
"Saigon traffic is Vietnamese life, a continuous charade of posturing, bluffing, fast moves, tenacity, and surrenders."
"Vietnam is a country of food, a country of skinny people obsessed with eating."
This is a long quote, but I found it way too amusing to resist. Just read it, don’t read into it. This is after the author’s family has migrated to America and is being baptized in the Church that sponsored them.
"I was thinking Grandpa Pham must be looking down on us and smashing his opium pot in fury. I told [my brothers] this meant all our sins were forgiven, but they were jumping up and down, yelling. We’re Americans! I was confused about the whole religion argument. I asked Auntie Dung why Americans go either up or down when they die, but Vietnamese go in a circle. We go up to the sky and stay there for awhile – like Grandpa Pham – to watch over our children, then come back down again for another go on earth. Auntie said you have to believe in one or the other, not both. I said, Huh? But what about this sin thing? Now that we’re Christians, can we really sin and all we have to do is pray for forgiveness and we’re forgiven just like that? Over and over? But if we were just Vietnamese, Mom said we collect our sins like stones in a bucket to be counted when we come full turn on earth again. Auntie said you have to pick one or the other, not both. I said I hope my bucket doesn’t get too full because I don’t want to be reincarnated as a pig and end up skewered on a spit. Auntie said, Don’t be stupid. Still, I felt very lucky to be baptized because it seemed a really good deal."
Looking for a job is an annoying business.
Sitting in a park is more fun.
The Vietnam Museum of Ethnology is worth a look.
I have run into several French speakers here in Hanoi, and so I have a new kind of headache from conversations in mixtures of three (instead of the typical two) languages. I like this kind of headache.
Playing with my camera at night is a sign that I don’t have enough to do.
Check out this book. Really good. Character definition reminds me of Steinbeck. I like Steinbeck a lot.
"Saigon traffic is Vietnamese life, a continuous charade of posturing, bluffing, fast moves, tenacity, and surrenders."
"Vietnam is a country of food, a country of skinny people obsessed with eating."
This is a long quote, but I found it way too amusing to resist. Just read it, don’t read into it. This is after the author’s family has migrated to America and is being baptized in the Church that sponsored them.
"I was thinking Grandpa Pham must be looking down on us and smashing his opium pot in fury. I told [my brothers] this meant all our sins were forgiven, but they were jumping up and down, yelling. We’re Americans! I was confused about the whole religion argument. I asked Auntie Dung why Americans go either up or down when they die, but Vietnamese go in a circle. We go up to the sky and stay there for awhile – like Grandpa Pham – to watch over our children, then come back down again for another go on earth. Auntie said you have to believe in one or the other, not both. I said, Huh? But what about this sin thing? Now that we’re Christians, can we really sin and all we have to do is pray for forgiveness and we’re forgiven just like that? Over and over? But if we were just Vietnamese, Mom said we collect our sins like stones in a bucket to be counted when we come full turn on earth again. Auntie said you have to pick one or the other, not both. I said I hope my bucket doesn’t get too full because I don’t want to be reincarnated as a pig and end up skewered on a spit. Auntie said, Don’t be stupid. Still, I felt very lucky to be baptized because it seemed a really good deal."
Friday, May 12, 2006
Waking up after Hoi An
Leaving Saigon last Friday I was thinking suddenly that it really is a cool city, maybe I should stay. Indecisiveness is one of the things I love most about myself … NOT. Anyway, from Saigon I flew to Da Nang, the industrial hub of Central Vietnam, not to see it but to get a taxi to Hoi An. Hoi An is a very old trading village along a river at the coast. And tourist heaven, that too. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The streets are tiny and motor traffic is only allowed at night. The old part of town is regulated so any new buildings fit the unique architectural style of the place. In the unique old buildings are endless knick-knack shops full of paintings, postcards, woodcarvings, hats, Chinese lanterns, etc. Restaurants and cafés, truly endless numbers of family tailor shops where you can have anything made for you in a few hours for the right price, every one graced by somebody roaming the street out front saying “come have a look my shop, very cheap…” Anyway, I spent my time in Hoi An in three pursuits. First, hanging out with a friend who I met there three years ago, it was fun to catch up with her again. Second, sitting in cafés drinking iced coffee and iced lemon juice and mango shakes (of course) and sour sop shakes, and most amusingly making the staff laugh at my stilted Vietnamese. And third, I developed a real passion for holding down my chair at the beach. The last night I was in Hoi An I met someone on the beach who wanted to connect me with a job in a resort near there… hmm. I’m still thinking about that!
Drinking jus de papaye and looking at water.
Beware the local wildlife.
Did I mention the food? The seafood was incredible. You can get a huge plate of salt-butter-garlic mussels brought to your beach chair for like $2.
Vacation. You end up staring at things that no one intended you stare at.
In the end, I am in Hanoi. After three years, the city feels like someone I met long ago, but now don't quite know what to say to. One of my favorite cafes with Japanese food and a great view is gone. On the other hand, several places that I only remember as giant dirty fenced off lots are now fancy new buildings. Haven’t been back to my old neighborhood yet, where I lived when studying here. I will get to that. It is good to be here though, someplace where I might actually stay for awhile.
Drinking jus de papaye and looking at water.
Beware the local wildlife.
Did I mention the food? The seafood was incredible. You can get a huge plate of salt-butter-garlic mussels brought to your beach chair for like $2.
Vacation. You end up staring at things that no one intended you stare at.
In the end, I am in Hanoi. After three years, the city feels like someone I met long ago, but now don't quite know what to say to. One of my favorite cafes with Japanese food and a great view is gone. On the other hand, several places that I only remember as giant dirty fenced off lots are now fancy new buildings. Haven’t been back to my old neighborhood yet, where I lived when studying here. I will get to that. It is good to be here though, someplace where I might actually stay for awhile.
Friday, May 05, 2006
My last hurrah from Saigon, for the time being, anyway.
Last week I finished my TEFL course. I now have a truly official certificate, time will tell whether or not it means anything more than something to hang on my wall. Enough about that. One of the more interesting things I did over the last week was visit the Ho Chi Minh City Art Museum. It has a fascinating variety of displays from traditional to some good contemporary pieces as well. Here are a slew of pictures I took there, enjoy, comment, ask questions, tell me I am a pathetic photographer, but whatever you do, smile and have a good day...
Always a few more pagoda pictures, for good measure...
Always a few more pagoda pictures, for good measure...
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