Bibo No. 2

I have a new student in my intermediate class.

Her name is Lyn.

Her nickname is Bibo.

For any of my loyal readers (if there are any!) you will remember that my nickname is Bibo! I couldn't believe my ears when, on her first day in class, she introduced herself as Bibo. "But that's Alison's nickname!" my students cried out. Apparently it's hers too, which leaves me feeling less original...

Now, when my students call me Bibo there are two of us that respond!!

Visit from the law

A few days ago I heard our doorbell ring and looked out of the window to see a policeman and our landlord. I immediately jumped to all sorts of conclusions about why he was visiting. Rumors consistently circulate in the expat community about police randomly kicking foreigners out of their homes, accusing men of setting up brothels and bribing them for money, and many other acts of corruption. But
apparently our policeman was just there for a social visit. He sat on
our couch for over half an hour in an animated conversation with our
landlord until he politely excused himself and left. We have yet to find out the exact purpose of his visit but believe that the police were curious as to who we were and what our deal was, so they sent someone to check up on us. Tres bizarre...

Noel vui nhe!

Nope, no christmas snow storm for us in Ho Chi Minh City. But we did go through a whirlwind of celebration, organization and fun. It didn't feel like Christmas but we still managed to stuff ourselves silly in true Christmas tradition.

A group of 10 misplaced foreigners gathered on our roof for Christmas dinner. We shared stories of Christmas Eve excursions and celebrations and began the drinking a wee bit too early. Our Christmas feast consisted of barbequed shrimp alla Donna, rice, salad, spicy vegetable stir fry and a duck with it's head still on! The duck beak of course became a focus of the fun later in the evening. We opened gifts given to us by Santa Mat and reminisced about Christmas in a Christmassy country while Frank Sinatra dreamed of a white Christmas in the background. The Christmas celebrations continued in a downtown bar that took me a while to reach after a brief run in with Johnny Law. The and I were pulled over by a cop and he had his bike confiscated by a very grumpy looking police officer. Poor, poor The! But we're going to all chip in some christmas spirit and rent him a bike today. After everything he has done for us, it's the least we can do. It was a Merry Christmas but oops, I forgot, it wasn't Christmas! That, according to the Vietnamese was the 24th... My bad.

Flying fish

One of my students gave me two tiger fish for Christmas. Yippee, I think...I've never had fish as pets before! I duly named them after two of my more rambunctious students and settled into my new role as fish owner. Fast forward a few hours and that role is quickly demolished. I was reading on my bed and noticed the fish making a lot of noise in the water. "Could the fish possible jump out of the bowl?" I think. "Nah, never." Carrie assures me. I'm assuming that the prospect of living in a fishbowl was too bleak for one my swimmers because when I came home from shopping there was only one fish left in the bowl. The fish jumped out and met a very sorry ending on the base of my bed.

That night I commented to Carrie that the other fish might be lonely and could possibly jump. Again, "nah, never..." Until I got home and realized that the bowl was now completely empty. Apparently swimmer no. 2 believed his friend had made it to a better place and wanted to check it out himself. But where is it? I searched around the bowl, knocked over and smashed a bottle of wine while checking beneath my mattress and still, no fish. I had to summon Craig from downstairs to come investigate and scoop out the dead animal that had lodged itself between the base and headboard of my bed. Heart breaking. So I am now sans fish and have little desire to buy new ones. My first experience was hardly encouraging. I knew that fish had a short life span but I definitely didn't expect them to only live a few hours!

A Christmas Eve Whirlwind

I woke up on Friday morning wondering how the Christmas weekend would turn out. Our school threw a Christmas party after giving students their grades back. For some this meant "Hey, you failed but Merry Christmas!" Giving a student a bad grade is hard, failing them is heart wrenching but failing them on Christmas!!?? It couldn't be more painful if it was physical torture. Most of the failed students did take the news fairly cheerfully and we moved onto gift exchange and a Christmas buffet. A few of my students gave me gifts including a leopard print shirt with frilly sleeves (uh...thanks...) and my favorite gift, two tiger fish and a fishbowl. (read the separate post to find the fate of my fish.)

Our friend, The came over on Christmas Eve and asked whether we were going downtown to look at the lights. We told him we'd go on Christmas. "But it is Christmas!" The exclaimed. Say wha? Apparently the Vietnamese believe that the 24th is Christmas and that it ends at midnight... Possibly something to do with uneven numbers being unlucky? So we trooped downtown (or should I say fought our way) through the hordes of people. Ho Chi Minh City is rumored to have about 10 million residents and I strongly believe that about 7 million of them were in the Dong Khoi area on Friday night.

What a spectacle! The whole area was decorated with fairy lights and tinsel... dancers and singers and bands were competing to see who could make the biggest noise and attract the most attention. Street vendors were selling confetti by the bag to reckless Christmas-ers such as ourselves who sprinkled the surrounding crowds with their wares. Of course, our trio of white skins attracted more attention than most and we found ourselves to be direct targets of the confetti sprinklers. All this was done with humor and cheer but, when we found ourselves surrounded by a crowd of fifteen boys who began to pelt us with confetti, rub it into our hair and add a sprinkle of shaving cream for effect, things began to get a little out of control. Craig was choking on the confetti, I had it in my nose and eyes and Carrie had it everywhere from her ears to her underwear!! It took us a while but we finally managed to escape the reckless crowds and seat ourselves in the park where little children practiced their Merry Christmas and there was little room for confetti throwers to move around.

A little reassurance of a job well done

I just scanned my students' blogs after my last post and came across an entry to erase any stress or angst I've had today! Just what a teacher loves to see...

Stress central

It's finals week again and this one has been a lot more stressful. Not only has my number of students doubled, but four of their grades determined whether they would be considered proficient enough to be eligible for graduation. I rushed to school this morning at 6am with eighteen exams to grade including argumentative essays, reading exams and writing exams. I was shocked and upset to find that three out of five of my advanced students failed, although the majority of my intermediates passed with flying colors.

I finished grading my advanced students a few minutes before class and found myself in tears about their grades. (Yes, I know, I am way too personally invested in my students...) I walked in, handed the exams back and we all had a good cry together. Luckily their grades didn't effect them too much and they managed to pass the level. Congratulations Oanh, Anne, Ai and Trung!

The week is almost over and with it, the stress and sleepless nights I have devoted to the students.

Not dreaming of a white christmas

It's cold in Ho Chi Minh City. It's more bitter than any weather I've experienced in months. Of course, bitter is a relative term when you're living in a city with only one season being THE HOT ONE! But I've experienced at least four shivers over the last two days and I thereby declare it freezing. One week ago I stopped using the air conditioner and on Monday evening we had to put on sweaters and shawls
while on the roof. Last night I was rubbing my arms to keep warm. I'm hardly complaining, as it is definitely a welcome change to the normal sweltering heat that causes torrents of sweat to cascade down one's body. But then I hear stories about 9 degree days from family and friends in New York, and imagine Mike adjusting to the bone chill of Ohio and I am grateful for the lingering heat that prevents us from
even imagining a coat or a sweater. So, while my Christmas won't be a white one, it will be a few degrees below boiling. And for that I'm grateful.

My tit's angry

The English teachers at our school have started Vietnamese lessons. We're struggling. So much, in fact, that our teacher even laughs at us. The language itself isn't so difficult as there's no conjugation or tenses...I think? But the tones are killing us. We find ourselves jiggling our bodies from side to side in imitation of the tonal signs. And our voices strain to go up and down but we still say things such as "bread please" instead of "How are you?"

Carrie and I found ourselves in a fit of giggles this afternoon when learning about ordering food at a restaurant.

"Mai thich an gi," meaning "Food I like to eat" (or something to that effect) continued to come out of our teacher's mouth as "My tit's angry." We were suddenly back in high school again, the two childish girls in hysterics about something that really isn't funny at all. What made it worse was that my students were eagerly staring in the window, trying to catch a glimpse of their teachers' struggling nearly as much as they do. And there we were...crying we were laughing so hard. Thoroughly amused and no, our tit's were not angry...

Weekends with wings

The weekends here fly by so quickly. One moment it's Friday afternoon and the weekend seems to stretch ahead of me with one thousand things on my list to do and see. And the next moment it's Sunday evening and I'm prepping for my class the next day and it's pretty damn important that I get some sleep before the week begins. I'm entering my eighth week of teaching which is hard to believe. I feel like I'm still as fresh in my teaching career as I was two months ago. I've heard that it takes a few years of teaching before anything really starts feeling normal. So now into finals week and the week before Christmas in ninety degree fume ridden yet exhilarating and awesome Saigon!!

Pics of our house

Christmas Kitsch

It's unbelievable how much the Vietnamese love Christmas. I didn't even expect them to acknowledge the holiday's existence but the reality is that they're more nuts about it than many Americans. A few days after Thanksgiving, true to Western form, the Christmas trees came out and most shop windows were spray painted with fake snow and messages such as "Merry Chirstams." Spelling true to Vietnamese
form. The Christmas spirit has since accumulated to the point that I have heard nothing but Christmas carols in public places, and all the shop windows are encouraging consumption for Christmas. I even spotted a herd of Santa's speeding down the street yesterday, obviously late for a show or party. A friend of mine recently attended a wedding where the waitresses were dressed as Sexy Santa girls...

Where did all this hype come from? Over the last few weeks we have hypothesized that the Christmas kitsch of Saigon has many sources. First of all, there's the fascination with Western culture and tradition that was first instilled in the war years when the streets were flooded with American soldiers and ideas. This imitation can be seen in many areas of the culture, including my school where the students are convinced that the American way is the best way. We also came up with the idea that the Vietnamese don't have as many traditional cultural celebrations as we do and celebrating Christmas is just one way of releasing some cheer. Plus which, Christmas is a festive, fun and enjoyable holiday that adds life to the Decembers of many people throughout the world.

But my favorite hypothesis is really that the Vietnamese love their kitsch. They love their neon lights and tacky signs. They love bright, loud colors and music to match. And the Christmas spirit embodies all of these ideas, and has been wholly embraced by Vietnamese living in Saigon. So, although Christmas in 100 degree
sweltering motorbike fumes sans family will be strange, at least I'll be able to see Santa's, shop till I drop and listen to joyous yet hideous pop songs such as "I'm logging onto Santa.com!" Ha ha ho and merry Christmas!

Bibo

My low intermediate students have caught onto my nickname. Not that it's anything amazing cos I told them what it was. We were doing a lesson on nicknames, given names and surnames and I was asking all of them their nicknames when they came right back at me and asked me for mine. I have finally accomplished the task of getting them to stop calling me "Teacher." Now they just call me Bibo...

The Second Sex

This morning we were speaking about gender roles in my conversation class. One of the advanced students was making a point about the unequal treatment of men and women in Vietnam. As he began describing how boys are often put on a pedestal by their fathers, I heard the string of words "are more intelligent than girls" come out of his mouth. Say wha? Yes, it was true... He actually said the words and then continued to defend the point that men are, in fact, more intelligent than women. Absolutely stunned and appalled, I began to tear apart his argument only to find that it was not only he but ALL the boys in this class who not only believed what they were saying but really didn't understand how women could be more intelligent than them. I asked for examples. "Girls cry when they're faced with a challenge," they said. I asked them why women are the chosen sex to rear children. "They aren't as intelligent as men so men need to earn the money," they said. When I asked why, at the advanced level of ELS, there were more girls than boys in the class they looked stumped but maintained their stubborn argument by saying "I don't know, it just happens that their are more girls."

Of course, the girls' argument that men are women are of equal importance was the more intelligent of the two ;) ;)

The bite of snake wine in a new perspective

Snake wine is quite the delicacy over here in Vietnam. Almost anywhere you go, you can see snakes pickled in alcohol waiting for some unlucky fellow to come along and drink its bathwater... And apparently some are more unlucky than we think...

The background to the blog entry that I linked to above, is a near bet Mike and I took over whether this story was true or not. I obviously was adamant that it was a farce but Mike persisted with his story and dug up the truth... Check it out...

Saigon streets beware!

The day I arrived in Saigon, I was terrified of the traffic. Bikes
seem to come from every direction and crossing the road was certain
death each and every time. I slowly progressed to being nervous of
the traffic. The lawless order and patterns of the bikes began to
make sense to me. The trick is to relax and not concentrate on how
overwhelming the traffic appears to be. Bikes will swerve and avoid
you. The next stage was feeling confident on the back of bikes. Once
you're on one, you really do just have to sit back and relax and allow
the crazy xe om's to do what they want, regardless. I've found that
it's much less stressful to watch the action on the side of the road
as opposed to concentrating on the mayhem of the streets.

And now I have made another crucial step in the process. I have
joined in the sway of the traffic and am now riding on my own, weaving
in and out of the traffic and learning first hand what the rules of
the road actually are. After a few trial rides up and down an
alleyway, I progressed to the streets of Saigon on Saturday evening
when the roads were fairly deserted. And every day I have taken yet
another crucial step in my driving and am slowly but surely mastering
the once unimaginable feat of driving a bike in Ho Chi Minh City. Of
course Mike, who has been patiently (and fearfully?) been teaching me
how to drive, has his own perspective on the trials and tribulations
of Alison behind the wheel. Regardless of my performance, I am proud
of the bravery with which I have ventured on my journey. As of next
week, I'll be riding alone!!

Clothing addiction

I'm not an obsessive person by nature. OK, some people will argue that, but it really does take me quite a lot to become addicted. Here in Saigon my interests and enjoyments include salad rolls, xe om driving, soda chanh and Dalat wine but the real addiction has turned out to be tailored clothing.

Every weekend I get lured into the market where reams and reams of material induce the most wonderful and dangerous ideas. The criteria for inventing a new outfit is little. If you can imagine it, you can have it made. Of course this has set me off on a buying frenzy. I spend many free moments dreaming up all sorts of outfits that I've always wanted. I now have two material stalls who know me by name and give me discounts because I buy so much from them. I have tailors who could clothe their entire families with the amount of clothes they make for me and I have a wardrobe that is expanding at such a rate that I need to double my hanger collection every few weeks. Yes, I'm addicted. I guess I'll need to be placed in a fume tent to get my sickness sucked out of me. Either that or it's tailor rehab for me...

Shoe thief

Our house has a small courtyard separating our gate from our front door. Because the saigon streets are covered in filth that I don't necessarily want in my house, we have been exercising a "no shoe policy" in our home which meant that we were leaving our shoes outside. One day I came home from work only to find that my shoes had been stolen! CArrie was sympathetic yet apathetic regarding the event until she found out that her shoes had been nicked as well! The two of us stormed through our neighborhood glaring at everyone's feet and doorways, lividly attempting to locate the thieves. But to no avail. Our shoes are either well hidden or so far down the black market that there's no point in even looking.

Intestines travelling

It's amazing what the Vietnamese can carry on their motorbikes. I've seen coffins, families, eight huge bags of flour, full length mirrors and week old infants. But when I saw two baskets filled to the brim with jiggling intestines and innards, I knew I'd seen it all. The man was driving at about 60 kilometers with two plastic baskets hanging off of a wooden bar that was resting, unattached on the back of his motorbike. First of all, where was he going with the innards? And why on earth were they uncovered, unattached and on the back of a bike? I looked around at the still daunting masses of traffic and wondered what on earth it would look like if this man had to crash or even bump into another bike on the road. Spilled intestines would soon be followed by masses of vomit from all who would witness the scene. So, just when I thought I'd witnessed a once in a lifetime sight, I saw it again the next day!! Looks like it's quite the common commodity in downtown Saigon.

Tiger Cup

So, I've never been much of a sport fanatic. For those of you who know me well, you'll know that I'll pass up a game any day over a night out or a good read. But when the Tiger Cup came to Saigon, I couldn't resist going to my first soccer game of my life. Six of us ventured out to the stadium sans tickets and searched for scalpers. True to form, they were there in abundance and the 6 whities who walked up were accosted shamelessly from every direction. Luckily, Dave speaks Vietnamese and could get us a good deal. Or so we thought. Soon after we all triumphantly received our tickets, we walked to the gate only to be informed that we had been taken for a ride. The clever scalper had glued together a used ticket and a different stub and sold it to us as real. Nasty of him. But we soon found real tickets and squeezed our way through masses of crowds to the only tiny spot remaining in the entire stadium at the very top. It was worth it. It was 2 hours filled with entertainment by an elated crowd and a rather weak Vietnamese soccer team who feigned injury every time they were given a penalty. Not quite the sportsmanship we're used to. Vietnam and Singapore ended up tying at 1 all and we all trudged home, not exactly victorious but my first soccer match ever was definitely an invigorating experience.

Back and rockin'

So, it's been almost a month since my last update...

That's pathetic.

What can I tell you? These last few weeks have been a whilrwind of work and fun, of heat and exhaustion, of fulfillment and enjoyment... And at the end of the day, I've been too damn busy to write. But I'm back with a vengeance and will promise to update regularly as long as everyone continues to check it regularly.

Apologies again. And now back to Saigon madness. Here I go again.