Reverse Culture Shock #7

I'm 201 lbs. Yup, it's true. I've officially cracked the 200 lb* threshold. I'm pretty sure that I've gained about five or six pounds since I've come home. I attribute this to a few things:

1. I'm not working out. To join a gym in the USA you need to pay a membership fee and then monthly fees on top of it. Since I'm home for just three months it isn't worth it. I've tried running by I've got chronically bad knees.

2. Food portions in America are bigger than in Vietnam. As you can imagine, the average American is a tad bigger than the average Vietnamese person and thus the portions are a tad bigger too. I use the word "tad" very loosely here.

3. I'm eating less fruits and vegetables. Sure there is no shortage of fruits and veggies here but in Vietnam they just seemed more attractive. There's something more enticing about seeing a woman selling pineapples just plucked from the ground than a bowl of peaches sitting on my kitchen counter top for a few days.

The weight gain is probably not going to stop anytime soon. Today I'm flying to LA where I will gorge myself on my favorite eats that I haven't enjoyed in a year and a half. That said, I'm also packing my speedo to start swimming again or else I'm going to finally look like the adult version of what I looked like when I was a baby:

(PICTURE: I'm the one with the double chin.)











*I once was 205 lbs a few years ago so total panic has not set in.

Big Yet Small City

(PICTURE: Alex and I on our way to the game. I'm wearing Alex's 7th grade Mets jersey.)

Apparently I'm on a baseball tour of America. A couple weeks ago I went to Pittsburgh to see the Pirates with my dad and brother. Last night I went to the new Citi Field in Queens with my buddy Alex. Next month, I'll be going to see the Yankees play the A's -- my favorite team -- at the new Yankees Stadium.

There are over eight million people living in New York but it seems that around every corner is someone you know. Last night while walking to the game, we passed a girl we went to Syracuse with (who, for the record, I thought was far and away the prettiest girl at Syracuse University). Then at the game we bumped into a guy we went to college with (who clearly had forgotten my name). That guy mentioned that last time he was at the game he saw "my boys" X, Y, Z. Minutes later, Alex and I bumped into X and Y.

In this big-yet-small-city way, NYC is a lot like Hanoi. Hanoi isn't a big city at all and it seems that every time I'm on my bike, I see someone who I know. Huyen emails me often saying, "I saw ___ at ____." To me it is pretty cool when you can live somewhere with lots of people and keep seeing them all over the place. This is quite different than Los Angeles, the city I lived in from 2001-2008. LA is really spread out and you have to make an effort to see someone or else you're liable to never see them again. I mention this because tomorrow I'm off to LA where I'll be trying to see as many friends as possible in the ten days that I'll be there. Good times ahead!

(PICTURE: Citi Field.)

Check out what we got, Ryan!

Ryan wasn't able to come out with Dave and me yesterday because he had his father-in-law's birthday party. Well, check out what he missed out on:


Dave caught two fluke and I caught one. Unfortunately it wasn't fluke season so we had to throw them back into the water. Also unfortunately I had a ten minute bought of sea sickness and chummed the water with Dave's mom famous sausage and peppers which I ate the night before.

Gone Fishing...again

We got rained out yesterday. We're headed off to try our luck again this morning...

Gone Fishing...

(PICTURE: My grandpa Macky fishing.)

I have always loved to fish. I have so many fishing memories from being the king of fishing at Jeff Lakes Camp in 1st grade to catching a whale of a fish in a small lake with my Dad and sister to going out to Long Island once a summer during college and fishing with my buddy Shankles to bi-yearly deep-sea fishing trips in LA.

There's no doubt that I've gotten my love of fishing from my father who grew up going out on boats with my grandpa Macky. Here's a couple other pictures of my grandfather out on the sea:
(PICTURE: My grandpa Macky was the captain of his own boat...)










(PICTURE: ...and dressed like the captain on a cruise ship. Lounging to his left is my grandma Nanny and lounging to her left is my Aunt Jane.)

Today I'm in Long Island, fishing with my college buddies Shankles and Ryan. If I catch anything good I'll be sure to brag about it tomorrow!

Reverse Culture Shock #6

I'm a giant wuss. When I was younger, I took great pride in my ability to weather bad weather. At Syracuse -- one of the coldest places in America -- I rarely wore a winter jacket. I would merely layer up under a fleece and walk to class.

After college I moved to LA where it's, well, a lot warmer than anywhere I had ever lived before. Over the years, whenever I'd visit home, I started to notice that I was colder than I had been in the past. My body was acclimating to warm weather.

After living in Vietnam, I'm downright pathetic. I've been freezing since I came home. Granted the weather has been less than stellar on the east coast but I've been wearing layers nearly every day. Last night I wore a t-shirt, a button down shirt and a hooded sweatshirt (although after walking 15 blocks and 5 avenues I took off the sweatshirt).

Everyone in New York seems to be praying for good weather. Well, I'm praying to the sun god too because I crap-you-not, I'm a week away from pneumonia.

Belated Father's Day

I've written countless blogs saying how great my parents are. Being home, spending time with them, only solidifies how strongly I feel to have an amazing mother and father.

Whenever my father talks about his dad -- Max August -- he always has an obvious sense of pride beam across his face. I know my father loved his father as much as a son possibly could have. I know my dad feels that his father was the greatest father in the world. And well, that's how I feel about my dad too.

Here's a picture of my grandpa Macky holding my father:

















Happy belated Father's Day, Dad! You've truly followed in your father's footsteps as an amazing dad.

Reverse Culture Shock #5

(PICTURE: Lilah and me.)

Here's a big reverse culture shock: I'm around lots of babies.

One thing you notice in your mid to late twenties is that you're rarely around babies. If I had to guesstimate, I would say that maybe 5 times a year between 2001-2008 I was around infants. Sure there is the occasional coworker with a baby but none of your friends are popping out kids till you're usually around 26 at the earliest. I wouldn't say I'm nervous around babies but, well, I'm just not 100% comfortable. To me it's like the first time your dad gives you his car keys. You know what you should and shouldn't do but you're still slightly frightened you're going to do something wrong.

In Vietnam I often hung out with Huyen's nephew Viet Hoang. However, Viet Hoang is two years old which is a whole different world compared to a ten month old. And well, Vietnam is a whole different world than America. In 'Nam you drive 2 year olds on your motorbike. I'm pretty sure if you did that here you'd lose custody of your kid in a heartbeat. That said, one thing that Lilah and Viet Hoang due have in common is that neither speaks English. Kids are the same everywhere in this regards -- if you smile and make stupid faces, they'll love you.

Celebration Dance

Michael Halper is a long time friend of mine. I've known Mike since we started playing traveling soccer together in fourth grade. However, more importantly than Halper being my friend, he's an avid Ahoy Hanoi fan. For a while now, Halper has sent me emails complaining that I've never given him a shout out on the blog. In fact, Halper wrote me this email on May 26th after I mentioned on the blog a few of our classmates I had seen Memorial Day:

Would just like to point out that ___ and ___ made the blog before I did. I can't believe it!! Seriously, of all the meaningless events you pointed out on your blog over the year, I couldn’t get one shout out. I had a kid for cying out loud! You were on the distribution list (I think) of her first picture for one reason (and not because I like you)…SO I COULD MAKE THE BLOG!

On Saturday night I got to hang out with Halper and he decided to bribe his way on to the blog. After complaining to me in person that he hadn't been mentioned he looked me straight in the eye and said, "Oh, hey, are you still taking donations for the Habitat house?" I said I was and he opened up his wallet and handed me a donation. He then said, "This isn't just so I get on the blog." Well, Halper, congratulations, you made the blog and it isn't just because you donated towards the house...although that helped a lot.

Because Halper is a hell of a guy -- and this is a huge moment for him -- I'm gonna let him do a celebration dance on my blog:

Kari and Brad's Wedding

First off, Happy Father's Day. Later this week I will have a belated Father's day blog about my dad. However, today I need to blog about Kari and Brad's wedding. Man, what a wedding! Even though the weather was crummy, the only other thing that would have made the wedding better was if Huyen was there. I can't wait till she can eventually come to an American wedding. When I got home last night Huyen asked me on skype video to see pictures. Well, here's 100...




My friend Jeremy and I were co-best men at the wedding. We gave a speech on Friday at the rehearsal dinner that was sort of a roast. Last night we gave a more heartfelt toast. Here's the transcript from the toast:


BEN: For those of you, who don’t know us, I’m Ben and this is Jeremy, and we’re life long friends of Bradley…who coincidentally I’ve never actually called Bradley until this very moment.

But before we start making fun of Brad we’d like to take a moment to congratulate Walter and Susan. Walter and Susan have always been like a second set of parents to me and Jeremy.

JER:
Walter, along with my Dad, was the coach of Livingston Lightning, our traveling soccer team from grades 3-12. He also used to take us to baseball card conventions on the weekends and taught us the art of haggling over twenty five cent trading cards. Walter is also responsible for first introducing us to the world of cologne. In fact, I’ve never actually had to buy a bottle of cologne myself because Walter would wear enough for both of us…forever.

BEN:
And Susan has always been, well, Susan. She’s a legend among our parents. My dad actually wrote a five page speech about Susan that he wanted me to read tonight but I had to say no. One thing I can tell you about Susan is that around college she started to ask Jeremy and I, “Don’t you have a nice Jewish girl for your friend Bradley.” And now ironically Brad’s getting married before both of us to a girl who Susan loves because, well, she’s just like Susan. She’s short. She’s Jewish and she loves to clean. So, our congratulations to Susan and Walter isn’t actually because Brad is getting married but rather because Susan and Walter can now keep that $1,000 finders fee they offered us if we set Brad up with his wife. So Congratulations.

BOTH:
We love you Walter and Susan.

JER: Susan, this now concludes your portion of the speech, so you can now sit back, relax and enjoy the wedding. You see, we promised Susan and many others that we would behave up here tonight, so in honor of Brad and Kari, we will keep this short!

BEN: Knowing Brad as long as we have, we’d like to take this opportunity to tell you a little bit about him, some things you may already know, and some you may not. What you DO know, is that Brad is brilliant. He went to college at Penn and then outdid himself by getting a perfect score on his LSAT and going to Harvard Law. And as we all know now, Brad’s a rising star at Proskauer Rose.

JER:
But what you DON’T know is that Brad learned everything from us! (BOTH: Yeah, that’s not true.) On a personal note, I realized Brad’s intelligence at a very young age. I can remember at around 7 years old, playing original baseball on Nintendo with him in my scary basement. While I was naming all of MY players, Ernie, Bert and Cookie Monster, Brad was methodically calculating slugging percentage and ERA’s for his. We’re now thirty and I still have no idea know what a slugging percentage is.

BEN:
What you also don’t know is that in elementary school, Brad was placed into an elite academic group called GTE, or Gifted and Talented Enriched which at the age of 10 was studying quantum physics and I kid you not, contacting paranormal beings with wire hangers. On a side note, I was rejected every year from GTE which was shocking, not because I was smart, but because my father was on the Board of Education. The point is, Brad has always been the smartest person I’ve ever known… Although asking us to give a speech in front of his new relatives probably wasn’t that smart.

JER:
As intelligent as Brad is, he is even more superstitious. I can not tell you the number of Giants games that I’ve “watched” with Brad, only to have him face the opposite direction of the TV because he thinks it will bring the G-men luck. I actually remember going to his house one time to watch a Ranger game, and he ended up spending the entire 3rd period in the bathroom, because every time he had to go pee, Mark Messier would score a goal.

BEN:
In fact, Brad is so superstitious that Kari isn’t the only person wearing something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. Brad is actually wearing his BLUE Vanbiesbrouck jersey underneath his tux, he’s wearing a NEW tie and he’s wearing the same OLD underwear he had on when the Rangers won the Stanley Cup in 1994 which not surprisingly still fits him. Oh, and he BORROWED Kari’s black high heels.

JER:
Anyway, Brad was not just the smart and superstitious kid growing up, but he was also a terrific athlete. What you DO know is that he was a star high school soccer and hockey player.

BEN:
But what you DON’T know is that he also dominated other sports as well. He is a master of the doggy paddle, and by age 18, was finally able to dunk his head underwater. And in middle school, Brad went undefeated in his wrestling career – although this was due to the fact that he was the only teenager in the under 60 pound weight class.

JER:
And in golf, he won the elite award for best temper tantrum displayed on a public golf course, after throwing his putter 50 feet into a lake and crying hysterically because of an unfortunate 3-putt. By the way, this happened just the other day when he was playing a round with the rabbi.

BEN:
Brad’s nerdiness and sports ability comes from one thing: Brad is the most competitive person you will ever meet. In fact, here’s something else you probably don’t know. Brad was offered a full scholarship to every law school he applied to except Harvard. However, Brad chose to pay to go to Harvard because he wanted the best.

JER:
Brad’s competitive nature has made him want to be the best at everything that he does, and I know Ben and I agree Brad is the best friend anyone could ever have.

BEN:
And Kari is the best girl in the world for him.

JER:
Kari, you know that we think the world of you. You’re beautiful, thoughtful and sweet. But as great as we know you are, you are also very lucky to have found Brad.

BEN:
Brad is the most genuine and loyal guy we know. There’s nobody I would rather have in my corner if times are tough than Brad. And you’ve now got him in your corner for life.

JER:
And although Brad might be vertically challenged, his heart is taller than anyone’s.
Kari and Brad, we love you guys very much. So, if everyone would please raise your glasses.

JER:
To Kari…

BEN:
…and Brad…

BOTH:
…and the very very very VERY short children they’re going to have. Le’Chaim

Thanks a lot God.

It's been raining here all day. Apparently God takes Fridays off during the summer and didn't read the email I sent him yesterday.

T minus five hours and two minutes till Brad gets married!

Dear God

TO: God@godofweather.com
FROM: ahoyhanoi@gmail.com

Dear God of Weather,

This weekend I am the co-best man in my friend Brad's wedding. I noticed in your daily announcement on weather.com that you plan on showering northern New Jersey with rain and lightning tomorrow. Unfortunately your plans don't coordinate with Brad and his soon-to-be wife Kari who have planned an outdoor wedding for tomorrow evening. As co-best man -- and the author of a minimally popular blog -- I think it is my duty to ask you to postpone your tumultuous weather plans until Monday (nobody wants it to rain on Sunday either because it is Father's Day). Thank you in advance for your cooperation.

Sincerely,

Ben

P.S. Brad and Kari are going to Hawaii on Monday for their honeymoon. Their trip is well deserved and should be totally awesome...unless of course their is a nuclear attack from North Korea. I only mention this because I read on CNN.com this morning:

WASHINGTON (CNN) -- Defense Secretary Robert Gates said the United States could defend itself in the event of a North Korean missile launch toward Hawaii, and that U.S. officials were monitoring the situation carefully.

According to Japanese media Thursday, North Koreans are preparing to make such a launch.

With missile interceptors and radar equipment in the region, "we are in a good position should it become necessary to protect the American territory," Gates said.

So, ah, God, while you're up there in the sky holding back the thunder can you also stop any potential nuclear warheads. Oh, and while we're on the subject, if you're not too busy, how about a little world peace? That would be really great. Thanks again in advance.

Reverse Culture Shock #4

Without a doubt the biggest reverse culture shock there is for me, is money. I find that I'm constantly doing currency conversions in my and realizing how much more expensive things are in America compared to Vietnam. The result of this has been that I'm feeling extremely cheap these days.

Here's a few simple conversions I've done recently:

1. I paid $10 for breakfast at my local diner in New Jersey. For that same $10 I could have eaten 40 breakfasts at my local market in Vietnam.

2. In Pittsburgh we paid $150 a night for a hotel room. That is two weeks rent for me in Vietnam or FOUR MONTHS rent for Huyen.

3. Two weeks ago my friends wanted to rent a car for the weekend which would have cost almost $400. $400 is more than how much it cost to rent my motorbike for THE YEAR!

4. At the gas pump recently, it cost $35 to fill up the car. That is roughly three months worth of gas for my motorbike in Vietnam.

5. Yesterday I met my friend Lisa for a drink and two beers cost us $8. That is the same as 47 beers at my local bia hoi. 47 beers!!!!!

Like the picture above, I feel like I'm flushing money down the toilet. That said, I still always tip 20%...which is infinitely more than you ever tip in Vietnam since you don't tip there!

Puppets: East Vs. West

(PICTURE: The actors and Puppets of Avenue Q.)

(PICTURE: Vietnamese water puppets.)

Last night I saw the Broadway musical Avenue Q. It was fabulous -- and ridiculously funny. The show, if you're not familiar with it, is performed by actors and puppets. Watching the puppets on stage brought me back to Vietnam and the traditional water puppet shows there. As much as I love Vietnam though, Avenue Q was a billion times better than any water puppet show. For one, I didn't fall asleep in this show. Secondly, the traditional water puppets don't sing song like, "Everyone's a little bit racist" and "Internet is for porn." That said, Avenue Q is a little bit ridiculous because everyone knows the internet isn't for porn. It's for Ahoy Hanoi.  

Water Parks

(PICTURE: Huyen at Hanoi's Water Park.)

Yesterday Huyen emailed me some pictures from her day at Hanoi's water park. No, Huyen can't really swim yet but she's quickly learning to love water.

Personally, I love water parks. Nearly every summer growing up, my friends and I would go to Action Park in Vernon, NJ. Action Park -- now called Mountain Creek -- was the most dangerous place in the world to me. Every time we went there it seemed that someone required a band aid (or ten) or ended up walking with a limp for a few weeks after.

After my freshman year in college I was accepted to the Walt Disney World College Internship Program. I was given the highly competitive position of GST -- Guest Service Technician. What is a Guest Service Technician? It's a Disneyfied word for janitor. I basically cleaned bathrooms all day at Typhoon Lagoon Water Park. Yeah, it sounds pretty terrible but it was honestly the best job I've ever had. I mean, at 19, how could it be bad to look at girls in bikinis all day? Man, I love water parks!

One of the things on my "to do" list while I'm home is to convince my friends from NYC to take a day off this summer and all head to Mountain Creek together. We're all long overdue for a water park related injury.

Transformers

(PICTURE: A desk that turns into a bed.)

I've mentioned before that naps are part of the Vietnamese culture. Most workers take naps for an hour or so everyday around midday. This is also true at school. Students from K-8 take naps in the middle of the day at school. On a couple of occasions I substituted at public schools and was pretty surprised to see the layouts of the classrooms. Most classes had either one of two things to take naps:

1. Bunk beds in the back of the class.

2. Desks that transformed into beds.

The desks that turned into beds don't look anything like the picture above (and the students definitely don't look like the girl in the picture). The desks look like normal desks, the only difference being that the desktop flips open to form a hard wood cot of sorts. It's pretty simple but it's genius.

Happy Birthday, Big Bro!

Every day my brother Zev sends me baby pictures of Lilah. Now it's my turn to show everyone baby/childhood pictures of Zev. Happy birthday, big bro!

Pittsburgh Pirates

(PICTURE: Roberto Clemente, my dad's favorite baseball player ever.)

In 1956 my dad and his best friend Mark decided to stop rooting for the Yankees -- apparently they were too good -- and each picked a terrible team. My dad picked the Pirates and his friend Mark picked the Orioles.

Although the Pirates haven't had a winning season in fifteen years, my dad had lots of great years with the Pirates in the 60s and the 70s. My dad's favorite player was Roberto Clemente and when I was a kid I collected Clemente cards at baseball card conventions to show off to my dad. In turn, Clemente became my favorite legendary player.

Despite being a huge Pirates fan, my dad had never been to Pittsburgh. While living in Vietnam, I told my dad that I was going to take him to a Pirates home game when I came home. I asked my brother if he wanted to come along and well, I'm in Pittsburgh this weekend with my dad and brother.

Last night we went to PNC field -- a gorgeous stadium overlooking the Pittsburgh skyline -- and saw the Pirates lose 3-1.

Why Vietnam?

I often get asked the question, "Why did you choose Vietnam?" That's a tough question to answer but I'm pretty sure it's because as a little kid I was abnormally obsessed with The Wonder Years. The Wonder Years -- which was set in America during the '60s -- premiered in 1988 when I was nine years old. In the pilot episode Winnie Cooper's brother is killed in the Vietnam War. That episode has always stuck with me.

As I got older I started to read both fictional and non-fictional books about the Vietnam war. In high school I took an elective class specifically about Vietnam. It's always just been something I think about. In fact, while I was cleaning my room on Tuesday I found an "Extra Cedit" essay I had written on the Vietnam War. Unfortunately there is no date on the essay but I'm pretty sure it was from 5th grade because it was written on perforated paper. Yes, perforated paper. The last time we had perforated paper in my house was when we had an Apple 2E....which was a long long time ago.

(PICTURE: The essay I found. Unfortunately I can't figure out how to make it big enough to read.)

Spring Cleaning

I'm living at home which means one thing: My mom is on my back to clean my room.

Yesterday I spent the WHOLE DAY cleaning my room. When all was said and done, I had 3 1/2 giant bags of paper recycling, two giant bags of garbage and a bag of old electronics. On top of all that, I had three bags of clothing and other goods for the Vietnam Veterans.

I've written a couple of blogs about reverse culture shock. This isn't reverse culture shock, but I can say that over the last fifteen months I've learned to live with a lot less. I basically spent the last year plus living a life that filled just two suitcases. Sitting in my room, looking at all my stuff, makes me feel good that I can give a whole bunch of things away to people who need them more than me.

That said, the coolest part of cleaning my room is that now I can ask my mom for my allowance on Friday!!!!

The Good And Bad Of Blogging

THE GOOD: When you're at a wedding and someone comes up to you and says, "My brother was traveling in Southeast Asia and told me about a blog he was using for advice. It turned out to be your blog."

THE BAD: When the day after you blog about a wedding you get an email from your sister, "Who is the Jeremy in your pics from Jed's wedding?....he's cuuuuuute."

Wedding Differences

This past weekend was my friend Jed's wedding in Cape May, New Jersey. The whole wedding weekend was fantastic and got me thinking about some difference between Vietnamese weddings and American weddings. Here's a few obvious differences:

1. There are no destination weddings in Vietnam. Weddings are always at the house or in the city of one of (or both) the people getting married. Nobody just chooses a spot because it's beautiful.

(PICTURE: Cape May, NJ)










2. There is no rehearsal dinner.

(PICTURE: My friend Jeremy and I at the rehearsal dinner.)






3. My Vietnamese isn't exactly that good, but I'm 99% sure there are no "roasting" style speeches at Vietnamese weddings.

(PICTURE: Jeremy, Brett and Alex doing their best Three Stooges impersonation.)

4. There is no dancing, let alone a couple's first dance.

(PICTURE: Jed and Lena's first dance.)














5. There is no cocktail hour.

6. There is no band.

7. There is no open bar. There's just all you can drink beer and vodka.

8. There is no after party at a bar after the wedding.













9. There is no brunch the next day.
(PICTURE: One guy didn't get the memo to wear a blue shirt.)








10. And finally, there's definitely no NY Times Wedding announcement.

Reverse Culture Shock #3

(PICTURE: It is a rarity to eat a meal or a snack out of a can or a box in Vietnam.)

As I just finished my cold bowl of cereal, I find myself reflecting back to my daily morning breakfasts in Vietnam. I miss my hot bowl of pho and my warm sticky rice. I miss Banh Gio and my tofu with bun noodles. I even miss eating the half developed duck eggs in broth.

In fact, I'm really missing Vietnamese food in general. For one, I love the taste and variety of Vietnamese food. Secondly, everything in Vietnam (minus the globs of fat on pork) just feels healthier. So many things we eat in America are processed or grown with pesticides. I'm pretty sure in the month I've been home I've eaten more things out of cans than I did in 15 months abroad. Also produce is just so much bigger here. Every piece of fruit I eat in America is about twice as big as its Vietnamese cousin. I'm not a farmer (although I do love gardening) but I'm pretty sure fruits and vegetables aren't bigger here just because mother nature wants it that way.

All of that said, perhaps I just miss the food in Vietnam because I've gained a couple of pounds since I came home. In fact, Huyen called me fat the other night on skype! But on the other hand, perhaps I've only gained a few pounds because of a cuisine in America that Vietnam can't compete with -- my mom's home cooking.

Television

One of the things that I liked most about Vietnam is that I basically didn't watch television for a year. I can literally count the few times I watched TV:

1. The Presidential/Vice Presidential Debates
2. Election day
3. Syracuse in the Big East tournament
4. The Super Bowl
5. The Boston Bruins during the playoffs

I should also include in this list the DVDs sets of "The Wire" and "Twin Peaks."

The great thing about not having television is you can spend your time doing other things. You know, like reading or writing a blog. The bad thing about not watching television for a year is that upon returning home you have to constantly tell people to not talk about the last season of "Lost."

Bear Bile

I've told a story a few times recently that I'll finally post about. Right at the end of my time in Vietnam, someone told me about a strange and cruel business -- extracting bile from bears' gallbladders. The bile is used as a traditional medicine and is sold for a lot of money.

I personally haven't seen any bear farms but found this article someone wrote about the horrifying process in China:

The cruelty of sucking gallbladder juice (bile) from live bears in China

World Journal, Wednesday, April 15, 1998
(By Youn Show Lee; translated by Vicky Ho Lynn from the Chinese)

---

"The cruelty of sucking gallbladder juice from live bears in China"

A few months ago while on a business trip, I had a chance to visit Angel Bridge at the foot of Long Day Mountain in China. At that time, we also went to explore a large bear farm which is surrounded by forest and beautiful scenery --- it is truly an isolated paradise. All of sudden I saw about fifteen large cages with bears in them. The farm owner told me this is a gallbladder farm, the purpose of which is to continuously extract fluid from the bears' gallbladders. Because of the high demand, it is an extremely profitable business.

When we arrived at the farm, the bears and the caretaker seemed to be getting along very well, all was calm. Suddenly four huge men showed up and the bears suddenly started screaming fearfully and rocking their cages hard as if they saw a ghost. The caretaker told me every morning at eight o'clock liquid is drawn from their gallbladders. Around seven-forty-five, the bears become agitated and have no appetite to eat and they start screaming and crying desperately for help.

In white uniforms, and without any emotion on their faces, the four men went into one of the cages. They quickly used a steel wire to snatch the bear by the neck, at which point the bear's eyes bulged out and it started gnashing its teeth and crying. They are so scared to death and this trauma causes them to defecate at the same time.

In the bear's stomach, there is a hole with a steel tube inserted directly into the gallbladder. Outside the area there is a plastic tube connected to the steel tube for drawing the liquid. The area is covered tightly with surgical tape. When the time comes, the tape and cover are removed and a syringe is used to withdraw the green liquid from the gallbladder. Three big men went in and pressed bear's 4 legs with force and inserted a syringe into plastic tube. When the dark green gallbladder juice was sucked from bear's body, the poor bear opened her mouth so big, her two eyes were bulging and her entire body was trembling so hard throughout the whole procedure.

This kind of severe torturing went on for about two hours until all the bears had been subjected to the same torture. The crying and screaming was so hard and loud and echoed the entire mountain and valley. It frightened me so much, my heart ached and my head started spinning.

After this unthinkable torture, the bears used their paws to hold their stomachs. They curled up and shivered and I could see tears in their bright little eyes...

Around 10:30, someone cried out that there had been an accident in cage number 5. We followed the owner to rush into the bear farm and were shocked at what we saw. A brown bear had managed to pull out his own intestines and was holding them up in the air, roaring and screaming, as if he were madly "protesting" the cruelty and insanity of the humans. There was blood all over the cage. It was so difficult to watch such a suicidal scene. Never in my life had I been in such shock or so devastated. At that time, someone rang the security alarm, immediately people rushed into the bear farm and waving the sharp ax and big steel hook. The owner shouted :"Hurry to 'rescue' the bear paws!" The man in the cage was reluctant to continue to go forward. But the owner stamped his feet and kept yelling: "You have to cut them off while the bear is alive. That is the only way they are saleable!" Right after that, I saw the sharp ax swung and the number 5 bear's paws were immediately chopped off with blood gushing out.....

Perhaps the killing smell filled in the cage number 5. The other bears then suddenly started to cry and scream sadly and desperately again and had the tendency to be violent. It shook the whole island. The farm owner had a butcher background. When the bears appeared ready to act violently and workers were panicking and running away, the owner stopped them and ordered them to put "steel jackets" on five of the most aggressive bears and give them a shot of morphine. As soon as the bears saw the "steel jackets", they immediately became quiet. It seemed the bears all got the painful lessons from the "steel jackets", otherwise they would not calm down so quickly.

This whole unbelievable incident affected me so deeply that their sad and innocent faces haunted me day and night and will continue to haunt me until the day I die. I felt a strong need to expose this incident to the world. Please widely distribute this true story and hope that everyone who reads this will do something to stop this kind of insanity from Chinese bear farms and to help these desperate poor creatures. Definitely, the Chinese Animals protection law needs to be improved, urgently.

The Rainy Season

I thought I left Vietnam. Since I came home it's been, well, not summer weather. For the last few days the weather has felt a lot like Hanoi's rainy season. It has rained nearly every day this past week and we've even had some thunder and lightning.

One thing that I don't miss about Vietnam is riding my bike during lightning storms. I always remember being told as a kid that if lightning hit our car, we'd be fine since our car is grounded with its rubber tires. Science was never my strongest subject, but I'm pretty sure despite my motorbikes' rubber tires, I'd be toast if lightning hit me on my motorbike.

Today I will be driving down to Cape May, New Jersey for the first of two friends' weddings. Luckily I'll be driving the 3+ hours in a car. The thought of having to do the same on a motorbike gives me the shivers.

Vietnamese Rain Fact: Huyen told me that when it rains, if you look at the ground and bubbles come out of a puddle, that means it is going to rain for a long time.

Reverse Culture Shock #2

Before I left for Vietnam, many people in the states – specifically in New York and LA -- had blackberries. Now it seems that every single person in New York has a blackberry or an iphone. This has been one of my biggest culture shocks since coming back.

For those of you who know me, I admit, I’m an email addict. I love getting email. But I also like the feeling of not checking my email for a couple of hours and then BAM, having three waiting for me in my inbox. So this blog entry isn’t about judging people’s blackberry addictions but merely saying it’s a strange transition from an almost blackberry-less Vietnam to a "you-don’t-have-a-blackberry?" America.

My one knock on blackberries (and cell phones) is that they make people less friendly to those around them. A good example of what I’m talking about is this: About a week or so ago I was staying at my friend Brett’s apartment in New York. In the morning I took the elevator down 20+ floors. The elevator made four stops on its way down. Each time it stopped a person got onto the elevator with their head down, typing away on their blackberry. Literally there were five of us in the elevator and I was the only one not writing an email (or I suspect in one or two cases, pretending to write an email). There were no morning greetings or half assed forced smiles exchanged. It was merely get on the elevator, type away as if this box was their cubicle, and then get off the elevator as if nobody else was there.

In contrast, in Vietnam, when you’re in an elevator your head is up. You look around. You say hello. You even smile from time to time. One time a woman even started a conversation with me in an elevator and I ended up tutoring her for the next few months. It just seems, well, friendlier.

Shronster The Monster Turns 30

(PICTURE: Brad in the greatest Halloween costume ever.)

Happy 30th Birthday, Brad! Yes, that kid in these picture is thirty years old. Trust me, I've seen his ID and have known him since we were in nursery school together 27 years ago!

This blog puts me in a tough situation. I have so many funny stories I want to tell but I've got to censor myself because Brad's wedding is just 19 days away and I don't want to give away any of the speech that I'll be giving with my co-best man Jeremy.

What I will say is this though: there is something about the picture above that is very symbolic of Brad. No, not the tube socks that went out of fashion a decade earlier. No, not the caveman vest which is merely covering an equally hairy chest underneath it. No, not the leaf across his crotch which is generally a sign of purity or someone who poops outside. No, it's none of those things. What is symbolic is Brad's left knee. Take a look. Take a close look. Somebody shaved it. Who shaved it? I have no idea...although I wouldn't bet that it wasn't me (but I honestly can't remember...although I think it might have been David Levinson.). Okay, I don't really know what the symbolism of a shaved knee is but I do know that Brad is the friend who always seems to have a funny story about him whenever my group of friends get together. As I think back upon my childhood, Brad is always by my side, making everything we ever did a little more fun. Happy Birthday, Shron!












(PICTURE: Brad and me in Israel.)













(PICTURE: Brad, Mike, Jeremy and I in Vail.)













(PICTURE: Brad and me at a wedding. His is next!)

13 Months!

Thank goodness for technology. Nearly every day, twice a day, Huyen and I talk on skype video. The time difference between New Jersey and Hanoi works out great for us since Hanoi is eleven hours ahead of EST. When it's 10AM in Vietnam, it's 11PM here -- the perfect time for Huyen to say goodnight to me. When it's 11 pm in Vietnam, it's noon here -- the perfect time to say goodnight to Huyen.

Being far apart from someone you care about is obviously never easy. However, being able to see them and hear their voice every day makes it a lot easier...except on your monthly anniversay when you would give nearly anything to hug one another.

Happy thirteenth month anniversary, Huyen!

1st Annual West Hampton Jewish Under 32 Invitational Tennis Tournament

I have a confession to make. I never went to Vietnam. The truth is, I spent the last 15 months training in an undisclosed location for the 1st Annual West Hampton Jewish Under 32 Invitational Tennis Tournament.

The tournament was this past weekend and all my hard work and dedication paid off. I won the tennis tournament against Jed Tamarkin.

Being the winner is quite an honor despite the fact that there were only five people invited to the invitational...and two of the five weren't exactly tennis players. The tournament -- run by bracket master and third place winner Alex Bertsche -- was the final event on Jed's final weekend as a single man. Yes, I know what you're saying: "You beat Jed on his last weekend?" For a second I thought about letting Jed win...but then nailed an overhead slam right by him.

Since this blog is about Vietnam, I should make this post relevant: Tennis is very popular in Vietnam. There are actually lots of tennis courts in Hanoi but you generally need to have reserved them weeks ahead of time. While in 'Nam I played tennis twice. I won my first doubles match...thanks to my doubles partner Long who was way better than me. The second time I played we got rained out after about five minutes. That's one of the troubles of playing tennis in a country with a rainy season.