The Breakfast of Champions

You can assume that when I am not posting anything I am busy studying. That will make both of us feel better. Actually, in reality, I don’t think this course will be particularly intense, but maybe I will change my mind later on. The TEFL office here in Saigon seems, well, a wee bit on the liberal side in terms of enthusiasm and a few bricks short of a load in terms of organization. I guess that is part of being a teacher, being flexible at the last minute! Having said that, I have no doubt that I will still learn a lot of useful things and that the trainers are doing far better than most organized people would.

In more important news of the week, I found my first xinh to mãng càu which made me smile. I’m not sure what that is in English, a soursop or sour apple I think?? On a more mundane note, there is my breakfast. Pho, or noodle soup, is the standard breakfast here. Think of it as the BREAKFAST OF VIETNAMESE CHAMPIONS. Well, and me, too. It comes with steamed sprouts, fresh mint, basil, lemon, and lots of other things that I don’t know the names of, but almost all of it is very good. There is something about getting up in the morning, riding my bike out of this alley I live on into the wildebeest herd of motorbikes that is Hai Ba Trung Street, falling off the wildebeest herd into another alley where there is a pho shop with live seafood tanks out front, coffee that stands up in your mouth, and of course pho. I was talking about pho wasn’t I? Well it makes me sweat early in the morning and the day goes better because of it. I will leave it at that.

My room, bicycle, and pink refrigerator are all working pretty well. I get lost almost every morning on the way to school. Half of the time because I haven’t figured out yet which streets are one way and in which direction. That is harder than it sounds because the one-way-ness of a street in Saigon is more of a suggestion than an actuality. Even when you are going the right direction people still come flying up at you from unexpected places, sometimes I think going to wrong way is actually easier. The other half of the time is because I am a push-over. Left turns here on big streets involve dodging (excruciatingly slowly, so as to avoid surprising anyone) objects oncoming in complete disregard for the health of my toes. If there is someone in front of me turning as well, I hide behind them. I think of them bug deflectors. If there is a bus or truck coming, I just go to the next block. That is when I get lost, and pushed over.

Hopefully I can get out this weekend and have some more good pictures. Until then I will stop rambling about nothing.