Connect Four III

(PICTURE: Someone please buy that giant Connect Four board for me!!!)

Yesterday I received this email: "hi how are you lop lop ben? i am sorry i not send you email trea she given your email but i lost and i just get from her today,did you like there?take care lop lop ben from lana." 

Two things you should know:

1. "Lop Lop" means "crazy in the head" in khmer. 

2. This email is from the bartender I beat on the first Connect Four night in Cambodia. 

So, I wrote her back this:

"Who are you calling lop lop? You're the craziest girl in all of Cambodia. I'm forever going to have nightmares about your arms flailing in the air and trying to strangle me every time I beat you in Connect Four.

I really like Vietnam so far. The food here is better than Cambodia. However, nobody plays Connect Four here! I want to get better so I can play you 1:1 next time..."

Then I got this email reply last night:

"only you lop lop no body our ok do not need to ask me who i call lop lop.if you siad vietnam better than cambodia i think you do not like come cambodia again. why there no have connect four?do not need to play more you are good already."

Mom & Dad, I'd like to introduce you to your future daughter-in-law. 

My New Best Friend In Vietnam

The one highlight from Sunday was that I made a new best friend--the girl in the picture. She is the daughter of the row boat captain (what is the term for a person who pushes you in a row boat?) and probably the cutest little kid I have ever seen. She and I played a Vietnamese version of paddy cake for about thirty minutes. I tried to teach her thumb wrestling but she wasn't going for it. Instead she was a big fan of shadow puppets. She was totally mesmerized by my thumb-locked bird.

I just want to give a quick happy birthday shout-out to my favorite people born on April 7th--Seth and Shaps! It's been too long since we celebrated a birthday in Madrid. Speaking of birthdays, I just found out that when you are born in Vietnam you are considered 1 year old. So, in Vietnam I'm 29, not 28. That means I'm about to have my thirtieth birthday in seventeen days. What the hell! Hannah thinks I'm in the midst of a quarter-life crisis. Well if she is right, this is going to spiral me down to a new level of freaking out. I have about a ten page rant about this that I'll save for a blog closer to my birthday when it has proper time to marinate in my brain.

The Mekong

(PICTURE: Sunrise on the Mekong)

This past weekend I went down to the Mekong Delta for some R&R. Joining me was the usual crew of Ryan and Hien; or as Hien likes to say with a giant smile, "The three wheels." You see, we had a huge lost in translation moment over the last couple weeks. Ryan and I jokingly told Hien that she was our third wheel. Hien thought this was a huge compliment and was boasting to her friends, "I'm the third wheel!" Luckily for Hien this weekend we had a fourth wheel. My friend Kevin Rodin from LA gave his buddy Ashton my email since he was in HCMC this week for work. After a couple quick emails I invited Ashton to join our mini adventure down the river.

Hien booked the trip and we set out early Saturday morning. The trip could be broken into two parts: The Good And The Bad.

The good: Saturday was a great day. We got down to the Mekong around eleven and jumped aboard the first of many boats. We set sail for a little village where they made fresh cocount products. Free samples were passed out all around which satisfied me on two levels: 1) I like food. 2) I'm cheap. After being given a tour we jumped back on the boat and headed for a long journey to a little island for lunch. After a delicious meal which consisted of some huge weird looking river fish, we divided into small group and were rowed down narrow channels back towards our awaiting boat. We took another cruise, hopped back on the bus and were dropped off in a little town to wait for a large boat which we'd be sleeping on that night. Long story short we eventually got onto a nice river boat and spent the evening sitting on a roof, sipping on bad Vietnamese wine and listening to different tourists sing with varying guitar/vocal skills. It was a great day.

The bad: Sunday I was awoken at around 5AM by Hien. I went to the roof only to discover that sunset was at least an hour away. Finally it came and I snapped away a whole bunch of pictures. After that we grabbed breakfast and got off the boat. At this point it was around 8AM and the highlights of the day were over. For the next thirteen hours we were taken to a few bad tourist spots (one pagoda that felt like a Disneyland reject, a "fish farm" that was merely a whole in the floor where a thousand fish struggled to fight each other for food while stuck in a net, and finally a Cham village which seemed to only consist of a dozen pre-teens begging us to buy waffles). After that we got back on our main boat and set sail....for 7 FREAKING HOURS!!! Yes, 7 hours. Way too long. When the boat finally docked we got onto our shuttle bus to go back to HCMC. That was a nice simple ride...just FOUR FREAKING HOURS!!! And if that wasn't bad enough, I had a broken chair the whole way back. The chair spring/shocks weren't working so every bump the shuttle hit sent my chair flying forward and backwards. And believe me, there were a lot of bumps in the road. Ryan said it best when we got back to HCMC, "I'd rather fly from the USA to Asia again then do what we did today." It was that painful.

Anyway, it's good to be back in HCMC. I just finished my class for the night and my kids officially love me. They each took pictures with me after class and pleaded with me to go to a picnic with them on Saturday. The picnic sounds fun but they want to go at 7AM! Who picnics at 7AM!

Porno Peddler To Parenthood

(PICTURE: My Niece!....Bier, stop staring at her chest!)

It's official, Zev and Kathy are having a GIRL!!!! I had a feeling they were going to have a girl and I couldn't be happier because this means I can hang on to my Jets ticket for a few more years. I know Dad is dying to give his first grandson one of our four cherished season tickets and since I'm the "son who abandoned" him it would most likely be my ticket in the enveloped at the kid's Bar Mitzvah.

I also have to say it is fitting Zev is going to have a daughter since he was the person who introduced me to Playboy. Oh sweet sweet karma. Zev told me on the phone last night that he's already filing papers to own a shotgun.

I plead with Zev again last night that he should have the kid in 'Nam. Dual citizenship would be awesome and could really help the baby get a college scholarship one day. Furthermore, you can't buy property here unless you're a citizen. Real estate is doubling every year all over Vietnam so we could buy up property through my little niece. It's a genius, flawless plan.

Gotta finish my lesson plan... Congrats to Zev and Kathy!

Breakfast At Tiffan-Au's...

(PICTURE: Yes, that's sweat)

Yesterday Au bragged twice that her father was the best cook in Ho Chi Minh City. Upon hearing this every sensory cell in my body perked up and I demanded she invite me over to her house.  Hien and Linh joked that to go over to a girl's house and eat with her family meant that you were going to get married to the girl. Well, that seemed like a small sacrifice to pay for the best food in all of 'Nam. That said, I got Ryan an invite too. I figured I could run faster than him in case Au's Dad demanded  a wedding on the spot. 

We made plans to eat this morning at 8am at Au's house. Well, last night I found out that we weren't exactly eating at Au's house--we were eating in front of Au's house at her Dad's pho stand. For those novice 'Namers out there I should explain something: Pho is the single biggest dish in Vietnam. It's a noodle soup that can be eaten for breakfast lunch or dinner. Pho is not taken lightly here so much so that it was one of the first vocab words we learned in our Vietnamese Language classes. 

To localize it to New York, think about it this way: Say you're a foreigner and arrive in the city and after a few days you meet someone who tells you their Dad makes the greatest pizza in all of the five boroughs. Actually that wouldn't even begin to emphasize the seriousness of pho. You would also have to include all the hot dog vendors in New York. I think you get it, pho is no joke here. 

Well, we showed up at the pho stand this morning and were greeted with a giant smile from Au's dad. However, I didn't come for the smile and handshake--I came to be fed. Within a minute bowls of steaming hot pho were placed down in front of us. I grabbed a pair of chopsticks and dug in. Before I came up for air, half my bowl was gone (and half the broth immediately evaporated through my skin and on to my t-shirt). The first words I said were, "Is it okay if I get a second bowl?" Au nodded yes and told her Dad to prepare another. Two minutes later a second bowl was placed in front of me. The pho stand assistant started to take my old bowl away but I quickly snatched it back; there was still some broth left in it. Once I downed the noodle scraps and left over broth, I dove head first into the second bowl. Four minutes later it joined the first bowl at the bottom of my gut. 

I think you get the point: THE PHO WAS AMAZING. Yes, amazing (a vocab word I taught in my class today). It was so amazing that I'm writing a letter to Lonely Planet to put the stand in the next edition of the book. For doing this I asked one small favor from Au's Dad--a lifetime of free noodles.  

Best Text Message Ever...

(PICTURE: The Best Text Ever...)

...but you have to read to the end of this entry to read it.

Ryan and I started practice teaching this week and it has been -- what's the word I'm looking for -- hilarious.

On Monday I was told that I would be teaching a class of advanced students and thus planned my lesson accordingly. Well, 5:30 rolled around and in marched my seven students (8 less than I was told would be there). I greeted the students and they replied back with, " ". Nope, I didn't forget to write what they said. They said nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Just empty blank stares. Well, using some August charm, I got them talking a little bit and quickly realized they were silent because they barely understood English. Advanced students my ass! And there went the lesson plan. Luckily I'm still extremely quick on my feet--despite the dozen pounds I've gained traveling--and was able to call an audible. I quickly simplified my lesson plan, got the class running and in the end we had a lot of fun. Plus, I think the kids learned a little which I guess is important.

Last night for class #2 I was much better prepared and before I knew it our hour and a half was up. Usually the classes take a break but we were coasting along and nobody wanted to stop. It was a pretty good class if I do say so myself. I even got three new students including one Chinese kid named Long. Long just moved to Vietnam and his English is far and away better than anyone else in the class. As everyone was leaving at 7pm he stuck around for a few minutes and asked to take a picture with me. I charged him $20,000 Dong (roughly $1.10) and gave a big smile.

After my class was over Ryan walked into the classroom to prepare for his beginner beginner class. As part of our training obligation we need to observe each other three times. I decided I'd stick around and watch him last night. Well, when his class rolled in, in walked Long.

After class was over Long stuck around again and asked Ryan and I to take a picture with him. I charged him $20,000 Dong again and Ryan, being jealous of my double earnings, charged $40,000 Dong (which in my opinion was very unprofessional of him). Long stuck around for a few more minutes to talk and then asked Ryan for his phone number. Twenty minutes later the best text message ever arrived. This is what it said:

"Nice to have known you,and ben.you and ben are the first American people I know.I like listening your class.I hope you can injure yourself in vietnam.if there is any chance,I wish you can go to china, I can play with you.give my best wish to your friend: happy birthday!"

In Long's defense, two hours later Ryan got this text message: "Sorry!just enjoy yourself in vietnam!not injure!:-("

Yeah, amazing.

I've got time for one other quick anecdote: Yesterday, Ryan began the class by asking the students, "Do you know what today is?" Blank stares all around. "Today is April 1st. It's called April Fool's Day in America." Blank stares all around. "It's the day we can do tricks on each other and it's okay." Blank stares...until one student peeped up, "Teacher, do a trick." Ryan had nothing. I laughed to myself and gave Ryan a look as he turned to the class and said, "Okay, moving on."

Cu Chi Tunnels

(PICTURE: Me sliding into the tunnel.)

Yesterday Hien took Ryan and I to the Cu Chi Tunnels. To quote Lonely Planet, "The tunnel network of Cu Chi became legendary during the 1960s for its role in facilitating Viet Cong control of a large rural area only 30km to 40km from HCMC. At its height the tunnel system stretched from the South Vietnamese capital to the Cambodian border; in the district of Cu Chi alone there were more than 250km of tunnels." 

To paraphrase there's a hell of a lot of tunnels under the ground that the Viet Cong used during the war. If you're a Platoon fan you'll remember the scene when the soldiers argue about who will have to go into the tunnel. Nobody wants to because it meant pretty certain death. 

The actual site is a huge tourist attraction. When we arrived there were buses and buses of foreigners ready to explore the tunnels and fire some artillery at the on-site shooting range. Our tour guide's name was Joey: "My name is Joey. Joey. Joey like a kangaroo. Baby kangaroo. Yeah, Joey" which he told us at least three dozen times. The only thing he told us more was that, "I like Americans because I like Yankee dollars." 

Anyway, Joey led us around the site and gave us a lecture about the tunnels followed by a ten minute documentary that could have been made by a four year old with an ibook. But rather than deconstruct the documentary I'll comment on the tunnels. Immediately upon walking into the compound we walked up to a tiny opening in the ground. Joey asked who would like to go into the tunnels first. I wish I could say that I was the first volunteer but I was staring at the hole thinking there was no way I could fit into it. One thing it doesn't take long to recognize out here is that Americans aren't quite the same size as Vietnamese (I'm already having nightmares about trying to find underwear that will fit me). 

Well, some guy volunteered to go into the tunnel who was a little smaller than me. He shimmied through the hole and after a second disappeared into the darkness. The next volunteer was Hien who is clearly braver than I am (and in my defense, a lot smaller). Hien dropped into the hole and also disappeared. We were told by the kangaroo guide that there were a couple of paths in the tunnel but only one that led to the exit about forty feet away. Forty feet isn't very far at all so I figured people would start popping up in a minute or two at the most. Well, five minutes went by and nobody came up. 

Just as I started to think this was some kind of cruel joke the first guy popped up out of the tunnel. He looked a little flabbergasted and exclaimed, "Don't go left. It's a dead end." Left by the way was the direction Joey said to go in. Followed by the guy was Hien. She had a giant smile across her face which was soon wiped away as she banged her head on the top of the tunnel. BAM. 

Hien and the random guy both made it out alive so I thought I could do it too. I handed Ryan my stuff and jumped right into the hole. I had to raise my hands above my head in order to fit but with just a little shoulder shake I slid right down. At the bottom of the hole was the tunnel and looking into it I couldn't see a thing. I hadn't seen darkness as dark as this since I had gone spelunking at Camp Airy. Showing no fear I crouched down and began to crawl through the tunnel. I put my left hand in front of me and felt along the wall for the way to go. After going for about twenty feet or so I felt a fork in the road. Left or right. That decision was easy since I already knew the answer. Right it was. After crawling for about two minutes my mind started to feel a little uneasy: "Shouldn't I be near the end already?" "What if they forget to remove a booby trap?" What if this is the path to Cambodia?"...

As I started to slightly freak myself I felt something squishy with my left hand and immediately heard, "Hey, that's my bum." Apparently some British guy had jumped into the hole before me and I had caught up to him. He asked if I kindly not touch his butt again and I assured him that the Cu Chi tunnel was the only one I wanted to explore.  He and I continued to talk to one another as we made our way foward. Eventually he yelled out, "thank god, I see a light." I turned the bend and indeed there was a light. However, I saw something else too: A BAT. The bat apparently didn't see me though because it flew right into my face. I know bats are blind and that they use sonar so it really made no sense. However, the freaking bat slammed into my face. It was clearly startled too and flew backwards a foot then flew into my face again. The next few seconds were a blur as I ran/crawled towards the light. I began to run up the steps and in a high pitched voice cried out, "Jesus Christ, did you see that bat?!" Before I could get an answer I felt a huge blow to my head. No, it wasn't the bat again. It was the tunnel ceiling--the same one Hien had hit her head on minutes earlier.