Things That Really Piss Me Off: PART 2

Here is the second installment of "Things That Really Piss Me Off."

I get it: People run red lights in Vietnam. This happens at every single intersection every single time a light goes from yellow to red. I came to grips with this a long time ago and am now as guilty as millions of other for speeding up at a yellow despite knowing I have no chance of being through the intersection until after the light has turned red. I blame my law breaking on the realization that I had a much better chance of getting into an accident by stopping at a red light than by going through it. When I used to be a good law abiding citizen I had a few close calls of people nearly slamming into me because the last thing they expected was for someone to stop at a red light. I call this type of infraction a LEVEL 1 RED RUN.

A LEVEL 2 RED RUN is much more dangerous and frankly idiotic. A Level 2 Red Run is when people just grow impatient while waiting at a red light and randomly take off into the sea of criss-crossing traffic. I would say that a Level 2 Red Run happens probably 50% of the time at every major intersection in Hanoi. Guys (rarely ever girls) will just dart into oncoming traffic because they're in such a rush to get wherever they are going. Usually the red-light-runner will get across the intersection just a few seconds before everyone else who waited for the light to turn green. It's insane. It's obnoxious. It's dangerous and frankly it frustrates me. However, only the LEVEL 3 RED RUNNERS really piss me off.

A LEVEL 3 RED RUNNER is someone who goes through a red light with a baby on board their bike. The other day I was going home and nearly slammed into a guy and his baby who were running a red light. I slowed down and gave the guy a hard confused stare. I was hoping the guy would be able to interpret my body language which was meant to convey this message: "Hey you fucking idiot! It's one thing to do something stupid to kill yourself and maybe me. It's another thing to kill your few month old baby."

Okay, I feel much better. I'm glad I got these two things off my chest. I promise no more angry ramblings for at least a couple of months.

Things That Really Piss Me Off: PART 1

Every once in a while I need to use the blog as a way to vent. Well, today and tomorrow seem like a good time to let off some steam since I don't have my computer to upload pictures with.

There are plenty of things in Hanoi that piss me off but recently two things have taken the cake. Today I want to ramble about smoking.

One of my claims to fame in life is that I've never smoked a cigarette. I'm pretty damn proud of this; admittedly probably more so than I should be. When I moved to California I couldn't have been happier when the state changed the public smoking laws. No longer did I need to come home from a bar and shower because I smelled like an ashtray. No longer did I need to excuse myself from a group conversation because one of the people was blowing smoke in my face. No longer did I need to break close friends' cigarettes and obnoxiously tell them that "smoking isn't good for your health."

In Vietnam you can smoke everywhere. Seriously everywhere. That's a fact. Think of a place that you think you can't smoke in...go ahead, think of the one place you would think nobody in their right mind would smoke in...go on...keep thinking...


...Okay, hopefully you said, "A HOSPITAL!". Nobody would smoke in a hospital, right? Well, in Vietnam they do. Last week I went to a hospital two times to see Huyen's grandmother who just had foot surgery. In her room -- which had eleven total patients -- there was one fifty something year old guy and his friends who kept on smoking cigarettes. The first time they lit up I think I said out loud, "Are you fucking kidding me?!" But no, they weren't kidding. They were smoking away despite a few "No Smoking" signs in the room.

The only thing that makes me madder than people smoking in a communal hospital room is when I see fathers smoking while holding their babies. This is a regular sight around Hanoi and always makes me shake my head. I mean, sure, you smoke. But can't you put down your baby first and then enjoy a cigarette?

On a final smoking note, I am always a little surprised when I see the personal trainers at my gym standing outside puffing away on cigarettes.

So this blog goes out to all the men in Vietnam: Stop Smoking!...especially around elderly women in hospitals and while holding your babies.

Why do something right the first time?

I'm currently in the midst of my annual computer crisis. Two years ago I had my laptop stolen. Last year I spilled water on my computer while I was home in NJ. This year, well, the computer just decided to go on hiatus. Basically I was typing an email last Thursday when the screen zapped off. Despite my best efforts at resucitation, the computer wouldn't turn back on. I had a moment of panic and called Huyen who told me to relax. She said she would take the computer in to the ishop after she was done with work (I was on my way to teach).

That night, Huyen had good news for me -- there was nothing wrong with my computer. The shop had apparently just hit the power button and it turned right on. Clearly I had tried this but it hadn't worked for me. I then hit the power button on my own and magically my computer turned back on...only to fizz out again one minute later.

The next day Huyen and I went back to the ishop with the computer. We showed it to the same "tech" guys who once again hit the button. This time it didn't turn on. We asked them if they could take a look at the computer and they said, "Oh no, you have to go to to the other ishop across town." It was too late to go to the other ishop so Huyen and I went the next day (this past Saturday).

On Saturday we went to the other ishop and met with the "tech" guy there. The guy hit the on button and stated the obvious, "It won't turn on." We thanked him for his genius observation and asked if he could fix it. He told us that the man who fixes hardware only works Monday-Friday.

During my first moment of free time on Monday morning, I headed to the ishop. I went up to the same tech guy who looked confused to see me. I handed him my laptop and once again he stated that it wouldn't turn on. He then told me that hardware issues could only be fixed at another shop. Yes, this is not what he had told me 48 hours earlier. Luckily the other shop was only a ten minute ride away. I hopped back on my motorbike and shot over to the Mac repair shop.

As soon as I walked into the shop I realized it was the right place. There were a whole bunch of macs on shelves with repair labels on them. I talked to the supervisor who took a look at my mac and gave me a run down on the possible issues and how much each would cost. He told me it would probably take two days to fix which seemed about normal to me. Well, a few hours later he called me and said they fixed the problem and it would be $100. I was more than happy to pay $100 since I know repairs can cost up to $500 or more if there is a major motherboard issue. Upon picking up the computer the man told me that it was now under warranty for three months with his shop. He even placed a sticker on the bottom of my computer to help guide me back to the appropriate place the next time I had an issue.

Well, I have no short term memory problems because the next day I remembered exactly where the shop was. I had to remember because my computer once again had the same problem. The computer isn't getting any power from the power chord and is thus draining the battery. The power chord works and so does the battery so it is something inside the computer that is messed up.

The computer is presently at the shop being repaired again. It has already taken longer than the first time I left it. My fingers are crossed that they don't find any additional problem and that this time, they can fix it correctly.

The point is: 1. I hate computers. 2. There might not be any pictures on my blog for a few days.

The Wedding: Step #1

(PICTURE: Huyen's childhood home)

Last weekend Huyen and I took Step #1 in planning our wedding -- choosing the location.

Huyen has told me for a long time that she has always wanted to get married in her childhood home. Her sister Huong got married in this home and the house has very special meaning for Huyen. The one problem with the house is that it is in total disarray since nobody has lived there in almost ten years. Huyen's parents' plan is to eventually build a new house on the land and spend their retirement there.

When we discussed the wedding with her parents they seemed a little bit skeptical about having the wedding at the old house. For one, having it at the house means that all of her family and neighbors need to participate in the wedding festivities whether it be cooking, cleaning or using their houses for toilets (Huyen's old house has no toilet). Like in any small town in the world, there is a lot of politics involved with something like this. Do you ask your Aunt to cook the chicken or do you ask your cousin? Do you use the neighbor on the lefts toilet or will this offend the neighbor on the right? The prospect of juggling all their relatives and neighbors definitely had Huyen's parents a little stressed. Her mother suggested to us to check out a nearby restaurant that often serves as a catering hall for weddings. Huyen and I agreed to have an open mind and went to look at the restaurant. Well, it took us two seconds to decide upon seeing the restaurant which was located about fifty feet off the busiest highway in Vietnam -- we were sticking with the old house.

In the afternoon we went to the house with Huyen's father, sister and brother-in-law. We tried to imagine how we could fit everyone in the limited space (Vietnamese weddings often have up to 400 guests...just for one of the wedding party). The chief issue though quickly became whether or not the roof of Huyen's old house would cave in during the party. Huyen's father showed us that it was riddled with termites and he felt that if a lot of people were walking around it could be disastrous. I mean, I haven't exactly been planning my wedding in my head since I was a little boy but I'm pretty sure having the roof cave in at my wedding would definitely be considered a wedding nightmare. Am I wrong?

(PICTURE: The family in front of the house during Tet 2009.)

I told Huyen's father that we should test the roof and I then launched a couple of bricks up top. The roof didn't flinch at all. Despite my tried-and-true method of testing a structure's sturdiness, Huyen's father wasn't convinced. Just when I thought this was a ploy to make us have the wedding at a highway rest stop, he announced that he would simply knock down the old house. As he told us this I felt a huge wave of guilt come over me. I told Huyen to tell her father that that wasn't necessary and we could have the wedding somewhere else. However, Huyen insisted it wasn't a big deal since they would have to knock down the house eventually to build the retirement home. I asked when they were planning to build that home and Huyen said in about twenty years. My huge wave of guilt suddenly became a tsunami.

Soooooo, the plan is to have the wedding at Huyen's old house...sans the actual house. We will have to built a tiny little house on the location which is important for Buddhist worship. Now we just have to figure out which neighbor's toilet we're gonna use and which relative is gonna cook the chicken.

Crossing The Streams

Apparently Vietnamese men never learned the valuable lesson taught to us in Ghostbusters: NEVER CROSS STREAMS!!!

A month ago, on our way to Quan Lan island, our bus stopped at a highway rest stop. Immediately everyone from the bus stream lined for the bathrooms. We had been stuck in traffic for a long time and clearly everyone, including me, needed to pee. I followed the crowd into the mens room and didn't have enough time to care how utterly disgusting it was (imagine a football stadium bathroom in the fourth quarter...times ten). There was one urinal open and I darted for it. I unzipped my fly and began the amazing feeling of relieving myself....until I was interrupted by a Vietnamese guy trying to share the urinal!!!!

Yes, a stranger tried to cross the streams with me. Apparently a few tour buses arrived at the rest stop right after ours did. There was a stampede towards the bathroom and instead of waiting in line, the men were doubling up at the urinals. I quickly glanced around the room and saw that I was the only person not sharing my toilet. The man gave me a look like, "Move over you selfish bastard!!!" as he basically elbowed his way into my urinal. I'm cool with a lot of things but frankly, I'm not cool with sharing a urinal with a stranger for the simple reason of inevitable "splash back." I gave the dude a look, shook my head frantically and gave him a chest high elbow. Thank goodness that this was enough for him to stand back and let me finish my pee.

Come on, Vietnam! Never cross the streams!

Cicadas

There is a new layer to the soundtrack of Hanoi -- cicadas. All across the city is the loud singing of the insects. On normally quiet streets, the cicadas songs are almost overwhelming. On main roads, the hymns can be faintly heard underneath the roars of motorbike engines.

The other night as Huyen and I walked home from dinner, I commented to her about the loud sounds of the cicadas. Huyen told me that all students in Vietnam love the sound because it means that the school year is about to finish.

Book Review: The Making of the President

Jim, my personal library, recently gave me an American classic: "The Making of the President: 1960" by Theodore H. White.

The book chronicles Teddy White's experiences along the campaign trail with Richard Nixon and John F. Kennedy during the 1960 presidential election. The writing is outstanding and the insights are second to none. There are countless political observations that are as true today as they were 50 years ago. However, none of those are what stand out for me. There are two paragraphs that are extremely eerie though the power of retrospection.

The first is on Page 372, when talking about Kennedy and The Oval Office: "When the windows are closed, the sound of Washington traffic, which hums as it passes by outside, is entirely locked out, and one is reminded that these windows are three inches thick of laminated glass, thick enough to stop an assassin's rifle bullet from beyond the grounds -- if the assassin gets time enough to sight."

The other disturbing reference is to a day in the life of John F. Kennedy. On page 375, Teddy White wrote: "Then the supreme and somber problem of war and peace: a long meeting of one and one quarter hours in the cabinet room with Secretary of State Dean Rusk; Secretary of National Defense Robert S. McNamara; Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Lyman Lemnitzer; Admiral Harry D. Felt, Commander-in-Cheif, Pacific theatre; two personal advisers McGeorge Bundy and Walter Rostow; and Vice-President of the United States Lyndon B. Johnson. Here at this meeting he considered, not for the first time but for the decisive [Whit's italics, not mine] time, American response to the newest thrust of Communist pressure on the changing world -- the movement of Communist guerillas over the jungles and ridges of Southeast Asia into the formless Kingdom of Laos. Could anything be done there, and if it could, should anything be done there? This was the ugliest of problems; and if his decisions were right the meeting would fade into history as unimportant; but if the decisions brought war, then this, indeed, was where the Americans chose war."

I think we can say that the president decided wrong that day.