They Grow Up So Fast

It seems like just last week that Huyen's brother Su was sharing a bed with me. Okay, it was actually last week. For about a week before Su began university, he was back at my place co-starring in my personal version of "Perfect Strangers." The last time Su stayed at my house, Huyen and Su shared a bed while I slept on the floor. We tried this arrangement for one night but I woke up the next morning with a bunch of mosquito bites on my feet (those bastards never show their face until I'm sleeping without a mosquito net!). Fearing Dengue, I told Su and Huyen that for now on the three of us would share my bed. Anyway, once I reclaimed eight inches on my bed the three of us began to reenact our own version of "Three's Company." Okay, enough of the old sitcom references.

After a few days of cohabitation, Su was admitted into his university's dorm. In a case of perfect timing, Su had to return to Ha Nam the day he was scheduled to move in. This meant that Huyen, Huong and I got to move Su into his dorm...sans Su. I can assure you that I was the only non-Vietnamese person in the dorm that day. I got plenty of stares and one brave freshman even asked me, "Are you studying at Transportation University?" As much as I would love to go back to university, there's no chance in hell I would be willing to stay in this dorm:


(PICTURE: Huyen cleaning Su's bed. Huong checking out the other freshmen.)

Poison Peanuts

At every bia hoi, there are plates or packs of peanuts on the tables. I love peanuts so this is always one of my favorite things about going to bia hois. There's something especially fun about breaking open peanut shells and throwing them on the floor.

As I mentioned in the last blog, on Saturday night my friends and I went to a bia hoi. While eating and drinking we went through about eight plates of peanuts. On about the third plate, after I cracked open the shell, I started to notice that some of the peanuts had a stem of sorts attached to the nut. This seemed odd to me so I would toss those peanuts on the ground. However, once or twice I would eat a peanut that had only a small "stem" that I could knock off with my finger.

Well, about halfway through dinner, our friend Minh showed up. He saw me opening up a shell and immediately noticed a peanut with a stem. Minh's English is not good but he did manage to say, "No eat. Bad for health. Poison." I said, "Poison?" Minh said, "Yes. Poison. Bad for health."

Needless to say, I stopped eating any peanut that looked like it even remotely could have a stem. However, the fact that I had eaten a couple already totally bugged me out and made me extremely paranoid. It is for this reason that I'm pretty sure I woke up wide awake at 2:30 AM after having bizarre nightmares. So lesson learned: Do Not Eat Peanuts With Weird Looking Stems Attached To The Nut!

Bring Your Kid To the Bar Day

Here's something that I don't like about Vietnam: Lots of people bring their little kids to the bars with them.

Last night after frisbee, my guy friends and I went to a bia hoi for some food and drinks. At the table next to us was a group of six guys. Three of the guys had brought their little children with them. Sure, I respect father and son/daughter bonding but definitely not in this atmosphere. The kids were sitting at the table watching their dads pound beers and take shots of vodka. Call it a cultural difference but I was pretty appalled.

As I was watching the fathers and sons, I started to think about this blog and how I was gonna trounce some Vietnamese men for their behavior. Just then though, a couple walked into the bia hoi and met up with two other couples. The new couple brought with them an infant baby.

Here are the problems I have with this:
1. Bia hois are smokey and clearly not good for a young child's (or my) lungs.
2. Seeing your parents get wasted is just not good parenting (the woman didn't drink beer but her husband sure did).
3. Everyone arrives and departs the bia hoi on their motorbike. Drinking and driving is stupid to begin with; doing it with your children in tow is just mind boggling.

It's actions like this that lead to that ridiculous story this year of the Filipino infant who is addicted to cigarettes:



Now I'm sure this post will anger some readers who have accused me of being anti-Vietnam. However, there are stupid people everywhere in the world. In the USA, some fathers bring their children to professional sporting events and think it's a good idea to kick back and enjoy some beers/booze while the kid has a couple of cokes. I remember seeing this as a kid and feeling my father judging these other dads. Frankly, if I had a blog in America when I was younger I would have ripped those Americans too.

The point is, drink with your friends and not with your kids.

Wedding Suit

(PICTURE: Getting measured up for my suit)

Yesterday I wrote about my shoe dilemma for the big "I do" day. After writing that post I realized that I never mentioned on my blog about my wedding suit. Well, I've already gotten my wedding suit.

About a month or so ago, Huyen and I went to the fabric market and bought some nice Italian cloth for a suit. I decided to go with an all black suit since: a) Men usually wear black at weddings in America b) I don't already own a black suit. After getting the fabric (which cost about $60), we went to the best known tailor in Hanoi. After waking up all the staff (it was 1:45 and apparently they sleep there until 2PM every day after lunch) I got measured for my suit. One week later, I went back to the shop and tried on the suit which was a perfect fit. Now I've got to make sure I don't gain any weight from now till December 19th.

One Size Fits All

(PICTURE: Shoe street in the Old Quarter.)

I don't exactly have wedding quality dress shoes here in Vietnam. I've basically been wearing the same black loafers since I bought them in 2000. Yes, ten years ago. The shoes are still in great shape since I never had to get dressed up for work in LA and I only wear them occasionally to teach in Hanoi. With the wedding coming up, I've got three options:
1. Wear the shoes I already have.
2. Buy new shoes.
3. Have my mom bring my nicer pair of dress shoes from NJ.

At first I thought I would go with option three. However, I don't really want my parents lugging shoes halfway around the world especially since it means bringing more things back with me when Huyen and I eventually go to America. Crossing off the third option, I started to look for new shoes in Hanoi.

Hanoi has no shortage of nice shoe stores. In fact, besides dress shoe street, there are probably at least a hundred other shoe shops and street vendors selling nice looking shoes. The problem is that my feet are too big, even though by American standards I don't really have big feet. I'm a sign 10.5 in America and generally wear "wide" dress shoes. This presents two issues:
A) Vietnamese don't have wide feet
B) The largest pair of Vietnamese dress shoes I can find are probably around a size 9.

In theory I could squeeze into a pair of these shoes but I think I'd rather wear my old trustworthy shoes and be comfortable rather than end my wedding day with a wife and a set of blisters.

This is all a long winded way of pointing out something I've been thinking about recently: In America, stores have to stock a wide variety of sizes to fit all potential customers. Here, stores only need to carry a small range of sizes to fit 99% of their customers.

Bad Luck: The Finale

(PICTURE: Jed and me enjoying the Tam Dao waterfall.)

Four blogs ago, I mentioned that one of the reasons we were going to Tam Dao was because there is a very nice pool on top of the mountain. After a few hours on a motorbike, there is nothing quite as sweet as going for a dip.

Huyen and I had called the nicest hotel in Tam Dao a few days earlier to ask the price. Huyen asked if she should make a reservation and I said it wasn't necessary. You see, the last time we went to Tam Dao it was dead quiet. We had actually gone to the nicest hotel and it was almost completely empty. This experience had me thinking that we could just pull up to the hotel and get a room. Had I known that our luck was going to be horrendous, I surely would have made a reservation. Well, of course upon arrival the hotel only had one room available. This wasn't too big of a deal since Huyen and I were fine staying across the street. We told Jed and Lena that they could have the room and we would just pay the hotel money to use the pool. The problem though was that the room wasn't going to be available for about two hours. In that time, Huyen and I checked into our hotel and then came back to the nice one to have lunch.

As we walked into the restaurant, I noticed a rare sight in Vietnam-- a mentally challenged person. Over the course of my time out here, I've only seen a couple mentally challenged people. In America, it is normal to see people with mental disabilities out in public. Here for whatever reason, it's just not that common.

Anyway, Jed, Lena, Huyen and I sat at a table and began to peruse the menu. After a minute or so, Huyen and Lena headed to the bathroom to wash up. Jed and I sat at the table facing each other, my back to the pool on the floor below us. Just as we began to relax, I heard a noise that sounded like a garden hose was filling up the pool. I quickly turned around and saw that the mentally challenged guy was standing next to the pool, taking a leak into it. After three hours of motorbike breakdowns, being pulled over by the police and two accidents, this was the cherry on top. I blurted out, "Are you serious? Jed, check this out." Jed got up from his seat and looked out the window behind me. As we both stared at this man taking a long pee, three Vietnamese guests at the pool began to shout, "No! No! No!" The man, god bless his soul, didn't have a clue he was doing anything in the least bit wrong. Jed and I just smiled at each other knowing that our luck could not be any worse. Just then Lena and Huyen walked up and we told them to look at the pool. By then the man had finished peeing but a large amount of bubbles were floating at the top of the water. Needless to say, nobody wanted to swim after that (I'm not so naive to think that every pool I've ever swam in has been piss-free. In fact, I'm sure I've never swam in a pool that didn't have a significant amount of urine mixed in with the water. However, there's something disturbing about someone pissing into a pool like a toilet, and not when they are themselves immersed in it).

After lunch, Jed and Lena were able to check into their room. However, the room turned out to be a shithole with no mosquito net. Fearing Dengue Fever, Jed and Lena decided to check into the hotel Huyen and I were staying in. After throwing down our bags, we changed into our bathing suits and walked down to the famous Tam Dao waterfall. Of course the waterfall which last time I went to had only had a few people at it, was jam packed. The four of us camped out on some rocks until there was a window of opportunity to get under the water. The girls decided to pass on getting wet so just Jed and I went under the fall. Frankly, the cold water was the perfect anecdote for probably my worst morning ever in Vietnam.

Bad Luck: Part 3

(PICTURE: Perhaps the flattest part on the road to Tam Dao.)

With the wounded on the back of our motorbikes, we continued to Tam Dao. After one wrong turn that cost us a few minutes, we were at the base of Tam Dao mountain. The road from the bottom of the mountain to the top is 14 kilometers (8.7 miles). This presented two problems:
1. My gas tank was showing that it was nearly empty and there were no stations around.
2. Huyen and Lena were on Huyen's sister's old bike which isn't exactly powerful. We had had the bike fixed a few days earlier but it still wasn't running like my Honda Wave.

Well, we started up the mountain and it quickly became apparent that Huyen and Lena's bike couldn't keep up with the one that Jed and I were on. Slowly but surely the two girls kept disappearing around the mountain bends. After waiting for them a few times, I decided I couldn't keep stopping because I would run out of gas. The thought of pushing the bike up the mountain was the last thing I wanted to do after a day consisting of one blown tire, bribing cops and two accidents. Once we were about halfway up the mountain I decided to just put the pedal to the metal and get to the top as fast as possible (although perhaps this is also the best way to burn gas). Jed and I got to the top of the mountain and parked the bike. After waiting for about fifteen minutes my phone rang. Huyen was on the other end and she sounded a little bit peeved, "Where are you?!" I told her I was at the top of the mountain and she said that they were still 7 kilometers away because their bike broke down. Apparently they had been pushing the bike up the mountain for the last few minutes while trying to call me. I offered to drive back down the mountain but Huyen told me it wouldn't be necessary. She said some guy had just pulled up next to them and was trying to fix their bike. Well, the guy did fix their bike which would make it seem like our luck had changed...but perhaps the worst was about to come!!!!