Plastic Glove

(PICTURE: Would you like a glove with your Coke?)

This story just happened to me and it is disgusting, odd and downright unexplainable.

Huyen and I were sitting outside, under an overhang, eating dinner. I had just finished my last bite of grilled buffalo and had saved a sip of coke to wash it down with. As I lifted the glass of Coke to my lips, something landed right on the rim of the glass. I moved the glass away from my face and saw a plastic glove. How the glove got there was a mystery. I immediately looked up but there was the overhang above us. I looked around me, but nobody seemed to be in possession of any gloves or have the motive to throw one at me. As I looked around in confusion I thought that maybe it was the wind. However, there wasn't even a lick of a breeze. This is one of those things in life that just doesn't have an answer.

I've eaten a lot of weird things in my life but nearly putting a used plastic glove into my mouth would have topped them all.

Trivia Question: What is this?

Trivia Question: What is this thing that I'm cleaning?


A) A medieval torture device commonly referred to as "The Rack"

B) A Vietnamese sled for the rare Sapa snowfall

C) Su's dorm room mattress

The Answer: C

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.