Everyone--the End of Solitude

MY ROBERTSON BUDDIES ARE HERE!

Yesterday afternoon I left to venture out for a cell phone (I've currently used a phone on loan), and what to my wondering eyes should appear but fellow Robertson Scholar Kevin, chillaxing next to a mound of luggage in the guesthouse lobby. Kevin is just returning from time spent in Kenya, and 6 other Robertsons arrived at a different guesthouse from a bus ride originating in Cambodia.

Introductions went all around for Phuong and DiDi, the two CET program assistants, and we opted to a group dinner. The gang mostly unpacked and napped.

That night we ate family-style at a tasty restaurant just by the park (cong vien) and the Reunification Palace (no clue on the translation here). The food was fabulous--noodles plus spicy beef plus shrimp plus rice paper plus yellow rice plus vegetables. And believe me, that's a long list to type but even longer to eat. Yeah.

Due to space issues half of us are in my guesthouse (with Internet access) and the other half are housed in one near the language institute (with laundry service). Hm. There WILL be trade-offs, let it be known. After catching up with the world travelers, allowing them long-neglected email and facebook time, we all hit the sack and the air conditioning controls.

Today was my last day of the extra Vietnamese language course; my teacher Van and I had a nice time reviewing it all and transitioning from grammatical queries to deeper issues.

"INSERT WORD HERE" tieng Viet noi the nao? is "how do you say THIS in Vietnamese?"

My selection of words: happy, sad, standard of living, poor/rich, blind/handicapped, hug, love/like/care about.

I'll be starting my internship teaching English at the Sao Mai School for the Blind this upcoming Monday, so I felt like some of these words might be helpful in communicating.

Van and I also chatted about the elderly people residing on lots of street corners. Sometimes these people have deformed limbs and unnatural ways of moving. Many, many people, whether tourist or local, give them money. Van tells me that many of them are tribal people who come to the city to make a living begging or using the governmental services available for elderly and handicapped.

While this makes sense, I can't help wondering how many of them exhibit deformities resultant of using Agent Orange and napalm from the war. Van replied that it was a valid question, but that more come from rural areas in search of support.

I'd like to talk with Van more, but she isn't sure yet whether she'll be teaching the whole Robertson group for our language classes. We swapped phone numbers and have a coffee date next week. She'd also like to practice her English on me (so far we've mastered "towel," "Thursday", "getting on a bus/getting in a car", etc. ). She's very adept already, though--small idiosyncracies of the English language just crop up randomly.

Dragged Kevin and Kelsey with me for lunch after class. Honestly air conditioning figured a large part in our selection of dining places. We (ok FINE, I picked it out) selected a smart little cafe with dark modern windows called Cafe Pho. Pho is a popular kind of noodle. Sitting down in the divine air conditioning we chatted and then glanced around. Smoky air revealed mostly non-Vietnamese businessmen puffing on cigarettes and drinking a variety of libations.

I noticed there was no food in sight. We sat there and tried to be cool about it, as though we knew all along this was a business-bar where food wasn't served, but we shuffled out pretty quickly.

Lunch was finally found on a side street with an open wall, lots of fans "sucking the dirt from the street and blowing it onto our food" (--Kevin) and an English menu that was likely more pricey than the Vietnamese menu. Oh well. It was food.

Kevin and I ventured off to practice Vietnamese for a bit--flashcards, phrasebooks, you know. Try eight Vietnamese people talking to us out of the blue (2 university students, a French-Vietnamese woman, a grandfatherly man, an unusual-looking boy selling lottery tickets, a couple and their son).

Highlights of the conversation in which I shared what broken Vietnamese I know and they shared impressive English: Is Kevin from China? (No, he's from America too) OOHH--so how long did he live in China?!...You are beautiful--is he your boyfriend? (NO!) Ah...he is your husband? (NO! NO!) Ah...you are lovers? (NOOOOOOO!!) Yep.

Must learn how to say "classmates" --and to say it very clearly.

The question that every single person asked, however, was "Why, when you could go to any country, would you come here, to Vietnam?"

Kevin's got an answer--possibly working here post-college. Me? I've got a few pat answers: to teach English and work at the school for the blind, to experience a culture utterly different than American culture, to understand a little more of the Vietnam War, etc.

None of them fully rings true. I'm still trying to figure it out, honestly. The other choices for Robertson Scholar international summers were South Africa and Argentina, but I've always wanted Vietnam. And so here I am.





Mystery Fruit of the Day:
(prize of my admiration if you can identify it)