Summertime and Saying No

Last weekend was crazy. On Friday and Saturday I judged an English speaking competition held by DOET (Department of Education and Training), the government organization responsible for education at the provincial level and Sunday and Monday I filmed 2 episodes for the local TV station. It was four days of go-go-go and by the time it was over I was one pooped American.

To start with the speaking competition was interesting for a number of reasons, but I was told to go with it. Let’s just say that every grade (6 – 8) had the obligatory picture of Uncle Ho, to which the same response was given and the same question was asked (What do you do to show your love for Ho?) and the same answer provided. Thrilling isn’t it? The most exciting thing was at the end as the scores were being tabulated people threw their children at me and I basically stood like one of those silver-painted statues with a smile slapped on my face as students and parents fought over who should and shouldn’t be in the pictures. My only thought was “Smile you’re an ambassador now. Be an ambassador, think ambassador. When this is over you can get coffee. Just smile. MAP (Make America Proud)”

The next two days I worked with the TV station that wanted to do some episodes for Tet about why a foreigner would want to come to Cao Lanh. I was weary since I am not an actor, but I was assured it would be lots of posing and smiling. And it was. I had a few lines but it was lots of us walking here, staring there, and pointing here. I know the Oscars are coming up soon, but I won’t be holding my breath. I did get to see more of the province. First we went to Sa Dec, which is the local flower-producing center for the south and Vietnam as a whole. With Tet being so close (it’s a week and half away) the flowers were abundant as flowers is the main decoration over the lunar New Year. Then we went back to Gao Giong and visited Tram Chin National Park. Both landscapes are similar. They are essential estuaries that serve as nesting grounds for cranes, storks, songbirds and kingfishers. Throughout the entire week Audra McDonald’s Summertime from Porgy and Bess was playing in my head. Pictures are below.

Flower Farm in Sa Dec

A house in Sa Dec built by a Chinese man for his 15 year-old French lover. The story is the basis for the French film L'Amant.

The woodwork inside the home was breath taking despite it's advanced age and exposure to the humidity.

Gao Giong Eco Tourist Site is accessable by boat.

The white dots are herons.

Unlike Gao Giong, Tram Chin National Park is flat and open.

What’s culturally relevant is that both of these things ended with huge meals, which I was dreading as it means I have to do the dodging alcohol dance. Men in Vietnam drink (and chain smoke). Drinking is how they bond, and by drinking I mean drinking until they are severely drunk. If you don’t drink it confuses them and can be seen as an insult (usually to ‘our eternal friendship’ which is amazing as this is usually the first time I have met these people). As an American and one who doesn’t like beer and HATES rice wine (which is moonshine) and can’t explain that I like grape wine (and that’s not the same as rice wine) I have to begin an elaborate dance. Having been here for 6 months I am an expert at it.  The key is to start off with polite excuses, move smoothly into obstinacy and finish with deceit. The 11 movements are as follows (10 if you don’t have make-up handy):

1. I Only Drink It Cold.

This is only a delay tactic at best, but blame your own culture and say as an American I can only do it cold. Wait for the block of ice to melt at which point it will be too diluted to drink so you have to start over. NOTE: They catch on to this quickly and start asking you to drink from their own glass – which is just nasty.

2. My God Forbids It.

Begin by anemically raising one hand, palm outward (biting a lip is optional). Mime praying with muttering to make it convincing. Shake your head. If you can try for a tear of horror. If you have language in common say: ‘I can’t. It’s against my religion.’ Your new found friend will push to know which God forbids it. You gasp and recoil in indignation. NOTE: Do not choose a religion anyone present is likely to share or know in passing knowledge. Baha’I, Shinto, and Zoroastrian are good bets.

3. I’m Sick.

No one will care if you are sick (as they erroneously believe that ‘drinking’ and smoking is good for your health – see how ‘drinking’ is defined above). But they might have second thoughts if you can produce a vial of pills and threaten counter-indications. Mime vomiting, painful death, blindness, and explosive you know what. It also helps to give the scientific name in quick English – “Why it’s doxycycline and acetaminophen”. Do not attempt this on everyone but mostly – sober women.

4. This Cough is Dreadful.

You want to please them. You do. Everlasting brotherhood and all that. Trouble is you have this dreadful cough and every time the glass comes near your mouth you start coughing and it sprays everywhere and you have to sit down to recover. See the above, this is only a delay tactic with a small shelf life.

5. My Inner Ear is Unbalanced.

They don’t care about God, they don’t believe medicine (especially since they are holding it) is bad, and they wait politely each time you cough yourself horse. Now you have to be devious. Continually open your jaw and wiggle your finger inside your ear. Claim dizziness. Each time you stand up, fall over and take someone down with you. Spill your glass each time they refill it.

6. I’m So Wasted.

Woman and Cross-dressers only. I have imagined that this would do the trick. I envision it going like this. You excuse yourself from the table and liberally apply blush including blotches on your neck. Return and apologize for having low tolerance for alcohol. To be convincing you should then proceed to fall asleep with one cheek in the snails.

7. OMG I Love This.

At this stage you start playing with fire, beyond it you’ve gone nuclear. Reveal your passion for dancing, karaoke, playing cards or debating, football or rice harvests. Get agitated about ANYTHING. Fling you hands around, shout excitedly, and gesture with your glass. Essentially distract them and act distracted. This has at tops a 20 minute lifespan. Also be wary you might have just opened Pandora’s box to karaoke dates and poker over embryonic duck eggs.

8. I’d Like to Say a Few Words.

Everyone hates the drunk who won’t shut up and stop giving toasts right?! I know I do. You must be that person. Refuse to drink until you have said a ‘few’ words. Grab hold of a sweaty co-boozer and slur on and on until they turn away or fall asleep or give up and drink alone.

 9. You Call That a Glass? Where I’m From That’s a Thimble!

To live beyond this night you must out drink them all. Get the lush as drunk as possible as fast as possible. After you’ve had two glasses he has had six, you can start switching your glasses and feigning your drinks. If nothing else, you will have the enormous satisfaction of watching him vomit squid and pickles onto the street.

10. I Just Drank it Faster Then You.

Always position yourself an arm’s length from the shrubbery. One potted plant can absorb four to ten glasses of rice wine, or one to three beers, depending upon size, before it starts to leak. Timing is essential to pull this off. You must dump it just as the others are going bottoms up and you must either leave or ensure their total inebriation by the time it starts trickling out of the pot.

11. My Fortune Teller Says Alcohol is Making Me Infertile.

This has more power as a women, but it can work for a man – especially unmarried people as it’s assumed that you want to find a Vietnamese girl to take home – wink, wink. This is the A-bomb. They will have no response to this – particularly if they have spent the last day or two lamenting your strange desire to be single and lack of interest in their daughters and friend's daughters regardless of the age gap (and they probably have). Sigh deeply. Sit down gingerly, with bowed head, and pour yourself a cup of tea. You have just killed the party but you may have just saved your liver.

GENERAL DISCLAIMER: As the night progresses everybody around you is getting drunker and you have most likely not been seated with the women who don’t drink and are having intelligent conversations (or you were and then forcibly moved). So they will forget these things so don’t be afraid to mix it up and go back and do an encore of a movement – or try a few together. It’s a booze soaked and cigarette perfumed party out there so bring all your weapons.

A Tale of Two Cities

Mea Culpa…it’s been 21 days since I posted I am sorry. Between the weeks in Da Lat, a week of teaching, nine days in HCMC and Hanoi and then returning back to teaching blogging was nowhere near the top of the list. My apologies.

As I just wrote I spent the New Year in HCMC and then travelled up to Hanoi with one of my dearest ETA colleagues Michelle Brown who is placed in the north, about 3 hours above Hanoi. We both agreed that we needed some big city adventure and luxury and it was spectacular.

We spent our first day outside HCMC in Ben Tre, visiting Jefferson Day the Fulbright ETA stationed there.

Jefferson and I at his college. We have been roomies at every official Fulbright function so far.

I have to be very careful when I mount a motorbike. Like most everything in Vietnam it's not designed for ergonomic giants (i.e. Americans) and I have been known to knock my Vietnamese drivers off their bikes as  I lumbar up to the seat. At least I'm a cute giant.

Me, Jefferson and Michelle. Three happy Fulbrighters.

We started in Ho Chi Minh City (formally Saigon), which is the largest city in Vietnam. HCMC is home to nearly 7.4 million people and is a sprawling tangled mess of streets and laneways. Some parts of clearly French with wide tree lined boulevards and others are clearly Vietnamese. We stayed in the bougie backpacker neighborhood in District 1 so we could be close to all the major sites: the Reunification Palace (former Presidential Palace), Municipal Theater (former Opera House), Cathedral, Market, shopping and museums.

To be honest I was dreading HCMC. It’s the pickpocketiest place in a pickpockety country. I was run over by a motorbike here. And my limited experience of getting from the bus station to the airport and back had been marked by usually being ripped off my nefarious and avaricious cabbies. But who’s judging right? I thought some time in HCMC might change my mind…well it largely didn’t. Ironically me the urbanite found HCMC to be too loud, busy and commercialized. I constantly felt exhausted and just wanted to escape the crush of people. Some of this chaos was due to the New Year, but still in all my experience HCMC is the wilder, dirtier and more salacious younger sister to Hanoi. Pictures are below.

HCMC by night. At times it tries just a little too hard.

The next stop was the Cathedral. The tour book said it was ugly. It's no Notre Dame but it looks great for being heavily bombed during the war. Lonely Planet can be such an assh*** at times.

Next to the cathedral is the Post Office. This was built by the French and it has a striking similiarity to the Gare du Nord in Paris.

The interior is a massive barrel vaulted ceiling with iron work designed by Gustave Eiffel. Note the huge looming portait of a certain famous Uncle.

Another French masterpiece. The City Hall. Again it's nearly identical to Paris' Hotel de Ville. Lonely Planet says the interior is fabulous and then tells you that heavily armed gaurds will strongly deter and resist your entrance. So why tell use that the inside is fabulous? Thus we settled for the outside. Again Uncle Ho leading the children with his back to the French. Coincidence? I think not!

Some of the fine sculpture work on the Municipal Hall.

Next to the Municipal Hall (City Hall) is the Municipal Theater (Opera House)...by now you're noticing the remaning scheme right?! This is a beautiful building that isn't a copy of the Paris Opera like Hanoi's Opera House. How nice the French came up with a new design. Like the City Hall the inside is supposedly amazing but there were no performances playing when we were in town.

Yes those women are topless and yes there were many nasty old men gawking and standing in such a way as to appear to be pinching various parts of the statue. Some men are such dogs.

This is the tallest building in Vietnam the Bitexico Financial Tower.

This is the large market in HCMC. We just walked aroud it. If you want to lose your wallet, phone, passport, watch, sunglasses or anything else this is hte place to do it.

This is the War Remnants Museum. It used to be called the Museum of American War Atrocities. Like it's sister in Hanoi, it's one-sided (as it should be) and you leave feeling appropriately shamed and nauseous. Not the day to be carting my Fulbright bag or wear my US Figure Skating t-shirt.

Some American warplanes captured by the Communist forces on display outside the museum.

One of the most popular tourist sights is the Presidential Palace (Reunification Palace now a days). This is the home built by the South Vietnamese leader Ngo Dihn Diem who was largely seen as inept and corrupt. He showed clear favoritism, bias, nepotism and was extremely oppressive. He is largely seen as a coward and fool in Vietnam. It was under his leadership that the Buddhist monk Quang Duc set fire to himself in public. A moment of civil disobedience and martyrdom immortalized in that famous photograph. Diem built this Palace in his vision of what a modern state would be. He never saw it completed as he was thrown from power and assassinated in the November 1963 coup d’etat. The palace is large and very art deco. Today it’s slightly eerie to walk along its deserted hallways and view the rooms that remain perfectly preserved.

The communist tanks crashed through the palace’s front gates on April 30, 1975 and it’s as if time has stood still ever since. After crashing through the gates as solder ran into the building and up the stairs to unfurl a VC flag from the balcony. In the reception chamber, General Minh, who had only become president of the South Vietnamese state 43 hours before waited with his cabinet. It’s recorded that he said ‘I have been waiting since early this morning to transfer power to you’. The VC officer replied ‘There is no question of your transferring power. You cannot give up what you do not have’.

The Reunification Palace.

A meeting room. There must have ben a sale on horrendous carpeting.

One of the reception halls.

A not so modern room with some rather intense and imposing wall art. Plus a French crystal chanedlier to finish the look. Who designed this place? A bipolar Liberachi perhaps.

The world's largest stand mixer...and the birth of KitchenAid. Good thing they downsized.

One of the many large caverous hallways.

An American helicopter on the roof.

One of the tanks that crashed through the gates during the Fall (or Liberation) of Saigon.

The highlight lowlight of the trip was New Years. Michelle and I knew that it was going to be crowded and it was. The streets where completely choked with motorbikes. You literally couldn’t cross the street (Michelle has pictures…when I get them I will post them). So that night we decided to try to avoid crowds and get a nice dinner and bring only what would fit in my pockets. Eventually we found a place that would seat us and by 11:20 pm we were winding up dinner. Unfortunately for us the only way home was walking by the Opera House which was party central. Throughout the day we kept hearing about the ‘ball drop’, to which Michelle and I just rolled our eyes at each other. Especially in light of the fact that the ball people kept referencing was resting on a platform with no pole…so it couldn’t be dropped. But what the hell your in Rome you might as well go.

By the time we made it to the Opera House it was near midnight so we stopped and watched as crowds surged inward to the aforementioned platform with it’s dropless ball. About five minutes before midnight a hotel near the Opera House, The Rex lit sparklers off it’s roof. These sparklers were seriously a foot high and they just were the most pitiful, not to mention mistimed things I have ever seen, but the locals around us all oohed and awed…and that should have been sign #1. But we kept our game faces on and my hands glued over my pockets and a few minutes later another building had a flare descending along a guywire to its roof (for all the world it looked like a recreation of the Atlanta Olympic Cauldron lighting going in the wrong direction and lacking Muhammad Ali). Michelle and I were lost. Was that the ball? It’s not a ball? But it’s dropping, not falling. Well maybe that’s it and when it reaches the roof fireworks will erupt. Nope. It just fizzled out. That should have been sign #2. The countdown started and ended and as we supposed that big ball moved exactly zero inches. We just stood there and blinked…talk about over-hype. We could see the gleam of a few fireworks over the river but like the sparklers they were so tiny that nobody could see them.

Thus the New Year arrived and unceremoniously we all filled out feeling kinda dazed, disappointed and utterly confused. What was that? What that New Year’s? Were those fireworks? And where was the ball? Such a head scratcher. Later Michelle and I caught the ‘fireworks’ on TV and it was a junkboat with some cans on its roof making 2 passes with the teeny tiny firecrackers. It was just precious. The entire evening could best be described as impotent. It needed a good dose of Viagra and testosterone.  We are so spoiled in the West with our fireworks. So so spoiled.

New Year's was sponsored by Hieneken Beers this year, thus everything had a green and white hue. I preferred to think of it as homage to Wicked... not a tasteless marketing stunt.

There it is the dropless ball. How anybody could have thought it was going to descend is just beyond me. And now pictures of the crowds of people.

After HCMC Michelle and I went to Hanoi. Unlike HCMC I love Hanoi. I love the narrow streets of the old quarter. I love the restaurants and the quiet moments of tucked away squares, parks and lakes. Of course I lived in Hanoi for a month so perhaps I am being unfair…but it’s irrelevant because Hanoi’s my favorite child. Like HCMC Michelle and I ate, coffee housed and bookstored our way through the city. I began reading Les Miserables, finished Moby Dick and gorged on western food. What was nicest about this trip was of course spending time with Michelle but also not being a zoo animal. Nobody stared at us as we walked. Nobody screamed ‘Tay Tay Tay’ as we passed by and it was nice to just be a person again. The other thing I noticed is that some tourists are starting to piss me off. I watched on many foreigners being rude, obstinate, and belligerent on many occasions in restaurants and hotels. The wait staff is doing their best and they have good English skills and your thick German accent with quick speech isn’t helping. Also miming what you want in a mean, haughty and imperialistic air is really unattractive. What is wrong with people?

Some temples in the Old Quarter.

St. Josepths' Cathedral, Old Quarter, Hanoi.

An old French villa, Old Quarter, Hanoi.

Hoan Kiem Lake

Huc Bridge leading to Ngoc Son Temple in Hoan Kiem Lake, Old Quater. 

A temple in West Lake.

Burning incense. 

This is what a Hazelnut Latte does for me these days. It was so good. I miss lattes, I really do.

I would say until next week, but my track record is shaky. So until next time, adieu readers. Have a great week (or weeks…again so sorry).