My Father, My Hero

As I turned to my bag to grab my water bottle, I caught him at the corner of my eye. He was greeting Cau Dai, who just arrived to visit Di Ngoc for the afternoon. I walked out to the front and saw him. My Ba. His green, short-sleeved collar shirt hung loosely around his body. Even as a new shirt (Costco-shopping recently, Ba?), it couldn’t hide how much weight he had been losing. His brown, multi-pocketed pants seemed to be influenced by the skinny-pants generation, but those also seemed to fit him as perfectly as a paper bags designated for those long baguettes they sell outside Big C. As I soaked in the mere fact that my father was here in Da Nang, I almost failed to notice him beckoning me over. After two downward waves towards the palms, I held my father lightly in my arms, fearing that I could possibly break him with an over-anxious hug. And just like that, we were reunited.

We headed over to Co Minh’s for lunch in a Mailinh taxi. When we arrived, a big pot of bun bo Hue was awaiting us – or more so my dad since that’s his favorite dish and I already ate at Di Ngoc’s. Our other relatives joined us after their lunch as well, and as they all conversed, I felt the familiarity that I had missed for a long time. In most cases, I find myself struggling to understand the Vietnamese being spoken around me, but with my Ba here, every single word seemed to make sense. I felt I wasn’t just listening with my ears; I was also listening with my heart.

After lunch, my dad borrowed Co Minh’s motorbike to take us around the city. I recommended we sit down and have coffee at Highlands Coffee, which had a nice view of the river along Bach Dang. When we sat down and talked, we immediately converted to Viet-lish, as we recognized that there were subjects that could only be expressed in one language or the other. After we talked about my cultural observations and future aspirations, we got to talk about him -- the topic I had been awaiting for a long time. And without even prying, he told me more than I ever knew: his stay at the Nagasaki refugee camp; his unapproved excursion to Tokyo that set the precedent for other refugees to stay in their own camps; his life regrets and his positive turn-around because of them; his love for salsa dancing; his current participation in a Vietnamese choir; his adolescence in Sai Gon… things that I never knew, and it took me a fellowship to Vietnam to find out.

As he talked about his past, I saw his eyes shine in a way I had never noticed before. Whiskers formed at the outer corner of his eyes as both rows of teeth gleamed at me, then shyly toward the window. He giddily shifted around in his seat and laughed until his eyes moistened, and my eyes couldn’t help but water as well – mostly because I wished that this were the Ba I had the patience to get to know growing up. Once I mentally slapped myself to remind myself to enjoy the moment for what it was, I straightened myself out and continued to engage in his company.

The rest of the day consisted of us motorbiking around town, and exchanging stories every time we were reminded of something to tell each other. Something that stood out to me in our conversation was his recognition of his talents and his weaknesses.

“You know,” he spoke toward the traffic as we maneuvered between other motorbikes and through traffic lights, ”I could’ve been a famous singer. I had the voice for it, and the charisma. But God gave me poor health.”

I thought a bit about his last statement, and then spoke in the same direction over his left shoulder. “Well, if you became a famous singer, you may not have had the opportunity to have two wonderful daughters.”

“That’s true,” he responded without pause. “Things happen for a reason.”

Besides finding out how much pride he actually took in his singing (the CD he recorded and distributed to our relatives has yet to make my iTunes), I was surprised to hear him talk about his health that way. If there’s anything that my sister and I get from our dad, it’s our pride, and we’re not usually one to admit our weaknesses so willingly. But to hear him say that really allowed me to experience a side of my dad that I feel like I rarely experience: vulnerability. And yet, his willingness to share that with me further affirmed my admiration for his character.

Today was just the first day of the few that I will experience with my father for the next week. Tomorrow, we will hang out in Da Nang again, and then he will catch up with me in Hue later on in the week. If this foreshadows what I will continue to learn about my father, I have much to look forward to this week.

The Story of Banh Canh Ca Loc

In being asked to describe a Hue goody, I came up with this story about one of my favorite Hue dishes:

After spending six hours lesson-planning in the Indochine café, I was craving the outside world. My stomach called out for some type of substance, while my mind was set on a type of food I could order from my chi or co – something that would bring me back to Hue civilization after a day of Western comfort.

Dark clouds sponge-painted across grey and pink skies threatened to beat me home. I jumped on my bike and sped down An Duong Vuong, determined to make it Ho Dac Di, the college-student food mecca, before the clouds would pour and force me to acquiescence to my typical routine of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Dragonflies flew low, their wings whispering into my ears, as xe may horns blasted through bicycles, motorbikes, street vendors, and pedestrians.

Just as voluminous clouds blanketed the sky, my bike rode up and stopped next to the unlit sign that read “Banh Canh Ca Loc.” The alleyway restaurant was safely covered by blue tarp in case the rain decided to interrupt the patrons’ meal. At this hour, couples and students on break before their next class sat at small plastic red tables and stools. One table was open, so I made my way down the ramp, requested “mot to banh canh,” and sat my laptop bag and myself on separate stools.

Before me sat a plate of 10 quail eggs, a plate of clumped salt and pepper, fresh ground red chili, and cut peppers swimming in nuoc mam. My stomach wanted to get a headstart on the quail eggs, but my tongue knew that would ruin the overall experience.

The banh canh ca loc came in a medium-sized white bowl, steaming into my nostrils and under my palms as I warmed up my hands before grabbing the spoon. After wiping it clean, I set it down to peel the eggs and marinate them in the soup. As my hands worked around the shell, my eyes stared at the yellow-orange broth and mix between clear and white noodles, as the noodles are handmade and prepared on the spot. I smoothed my fingers around the white of the eggs to catch any remnants of the shell, then dropped them in the broth. I added a half-spoon of red chili, recalling that the last time I had a full spoon, I was too busy sniffling to fully enjoy my meal.

I spooned around the noodles, counting the ca loc to keep in mind how many bites of noodles I would take in ratio to the amount of fish present in the bowl. Then I divided the eggs in half and watched the broth swarm around the yolk to distribute it around the bowl. It was ready. With one shallow scoop of three noodles and a piece of ca loc, I took my first bite. All of a sudden, the six-hours of isolation from the civilization, the strenuous bike ride home, the work behind peeling the eggs was worth it. My stomach churned – whether it was upset with how much chili was present, or fighting to evenly distribute the first bite, I’m unsure of, but I continued to consume it to ease the tension either way.

After all the noodles, fish, and eggs were gone, I couldn’t tell if I was sniffling because it was so spicy, or because I was sad that the experience had ended. Before I handed over 12,000 (10,000 for the bowl, 1,000 for each egg), I lifted the bowl to my lips until the only thing left was black pepper resting at the bottom of the bowl. Resisting temptation to buy another, I left the alleyway with a quick nod and smile to the cook, who squatted over a red plastic stool with a giant pot of banh canh to her right – big enough to bathe in – and rolled-dough in front of her. With a renewed appreciation for my chi's labor, I jumped back on my bike and whizzed through the cold, warmed by a full stomach and a heavier heart.

Where's the Meat?

During our last conversation, Robert (one of my best friends from San Jose) pointed out that I rarely talk about the details: What do I do? Where do I hang out? Who do I hang out with? How do I get around? What do I eat? How’s the weather? So on, and so on. Very good questions, and I will take on the challenge of answering them.

The awesome guy who inspired this update, and just inspires me in general. =)

This semester, I teach 8 groups under the English Department: 4 groups for American Culture, 4 groups for Speaking 1. In my American Culture class, I have an average of 70 students. In my Speaking class, I have an average of 40 students. I have prided in building relationships with my students as an elementary school teacher, and being able to remember everyone’s name after the second day. But with such a big group, remembering the names for all 440 students is a daunting task. I have been able to develop relationships with some of the students who like to ask me out to go eat, or hang out every now and then to practice English while I practice Vietnamese, or go around exploring Hue.

I taught two make-up American Culture classes on Vietnamese Womyn's Day (on a Saturday), and all of them came and gave me flowers as a class gift. They are adorable!

Outside of class, I hold an English Speaking Club for first year students in the International Studies Department. We met Monday and Tuesday nights, but since it’s voluntary, less people have been coming and now we’re switching to Tuesdays. It’s really nice being able to facilitate this group. Since I’m not responsible for their grades, we have a more relaxed environment where they are more likely to ask questions for clarification and be willing to make mistakes.

I also volunteer teach with Friends of Hue on Wednesdays and Thursdays, as mentioned in one of my previous posts. Currently, the assistant director Chi Dung and I are trying to work out how to develop a consistent curriculum where the students are not getting taught the same thing over and over again in case there are new volunteers who come into my position. Sure, back in America, I’ve been handed curriculum where I have standards and textbooks to work from. But here, I just have an intermediate grammar book that doesn’t match the students’ English level. This weekend is going to be a busy one.

On Wednesdays and Fridays, I take Vietnamese lessons with a fellow teacher in the International Studies Department, Phuc. We refer to my "Vietnamese Survival Book for Foreigners," which has been really helpful. She mostly helps me with my pronunciation and teaches me words that are not explained by the book. She also helps me put the lessons into context. For example, in our lesson about “Family Reunion,” we talked about our goals for the future, about having family, and about our personal lives. We used the words from the book, and she taught me more in case I need to know them for future conversations. I use these lessons to study on my own, as I write all the Vietnamese words into little books I use as my index cards, separated by parts of speech and phrases. Learning Vietnamese definitely puts into perspective the struggle my students have in learning English, a language they are barely able to practice outside of class.

Another important part of my schedule is working out. I HAVE to work out, or else I’ll go crazy. I have a gym membership at this snazzy hotel called the “Indochine” (not a name I agree with), which is where foreigners and locals go if they want access to cardio machines, weights, mats, a yoga ball, and air conditioning. I go three times a week – Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. I also have access to their beautiful pool, but I’m not really a big fan of swimming. I used to be a great swimmer when I was a kid, but once my vision got worse, I stopped swimming at the pool altogether. (Being out in open water, like the beach, I can do since I’m more motivated to enjoy the scenery.)

Outside of planning, teaching, and working out, I do a variety of things: hang out my ride-or-die homies Steven and Jenelle; bike around the town; reflect with Nhuanh at new cafés; videochat with Robert or Rabiah back at home; hang out with students; make new local friends; gather with my ex-pat and local NGO friends; karaoke; e-mail/message friends… the common theme with all these activities is that I am able to form meaningful connections with the people around me while learning more about Hue and Vietnam. Also, I have the time to reflect and relax, giving myself the quality time that I need to push my personal growth.

My ride-or-dies, Jenelle and Steven, on Halloween. I'm Kobe Bryant, Jenelle's wearing Halloween colors, and Steven is a beautiful womyn wearing my dress and cardigan.

As you might have seen in previous posts, I get around on the bicycle I borrowed from the university. It is a wonderful red, single speed bike that has a basket hanging over the handlebars, a backseat for the daring, and “martin” stickered on in shiny, rainbow colors along the body. I initially wanted a motorbike, but after reflecting on the risks and how much control I’d have on my bicycle over a motorbike, I chose to stick to “martin.” Also, with the rainy season, the flooding is more likely to ruin a motorbike; Hue citizens are often seen pushing their motorbike through a flooded area because the water gets into the exhaust pipe and puts it out of commission until you can take it to the shop.

The beautiful Minhchau modeling the motorbike poncho and how it should be properly worn -- beneath the helmet.

Speaking of the flooding season – it hasn’t happened yet! It’s supposed to be rainy season from October to February, but it’s December, and it’s hot and humid outside. (Blame it on global warming.) I initially feared the flood season, but it’s not so bad. On rainy days, everyone busts out their giant ponchos that cover them from their heads to their bike seat and basket, and they usually come out 80% dry. But I only had to use mine a handful of times. These past few days, I’ve been able to enjoy a nice cool evening breeze as I bike around town. I’ve been able to wear my Nike sweater (which friends and family at home know I love), so I’ve been a happy camper about the evening weather.

A beautiful day in Hue on the street perpendicular to my school. Here, two tiny boys are making their way home from school for lunch.

And last but not least – THE FOOD! I’m telling you – no matter where I go in Vietnam, the food is not as good as it is in Hue (unless it was made by my relatives). You have so many special dishes here: che (Vietnamese dessert), bun bo (Hue beef noodles), banh canh ca loc (handcut noodles in soup with snake-fish), com nieu (claypot rice), banh beo, banh loc, banh uot, bun thit nuong, nem lui – I could go on and on! (As you can see, my translations can’t keep up with all the food I’m thinking of.) Perhaps my favorite food is what I get at least every other day – banh mi trung ca (Vietnamese sandwich with egg and dried fish). It’s a good source of carbs and protein for the day, and when I get it nice and hot in the morning… mmm. I also often end my nights with che thap cam (che with everything), which has me going to bed with a huge smile on my face.

Oc (Snails) sauteed in bail and other wonderful goodness

However, since I feel that loss of control will lead to significant weight gain, I’ve been keeping a food journal to help me 1) track what I eat, 2) practice my Vietnamese writing skills, 3) know what I ate so I can go back there and eat it again! I write it all in this small book that fits into my wallet, so it can go everywhere with me. I would take a picture of it to show you, but my camera recently died in a battle against water. Water always wins in a battle against electronics. Get a reliable water bottle, folks, or else it’ll open up and spill all its contents in your purse, where you have your phone, camera, tissues, and all other goods that are incompatible with water.

Hue for the Holidays

This Thanksgiving was my first Thanksgiving away from home. Admittedly, I was a bit homesick at the beginning of the week. Around this time, I usually create a lesson around giving Thanks and a brief hystory around Native Americans and the colonization of the United States. Then, before we head out for our brief vacation, we reflec ton what we're thankful for, share it with each other, and make paper turkeys out of our hands and feet. In San Jose, I usually have potlucks with friends, where we share memories and food, and when I come home to L.A., I eat a giant meal with my small family of four, along with any other friends who may not be able to go home for the holidays. The rest of the week is spent reuniting with close friends from high school. There was a routine I was used to, and I tried to relive that routine as much as possible by scanning through past pictures throughout the week.

However, I picked myself out of the slump by choosing to share these activities with my students and friends. For my speaking students, I mixed test preparation and Thanksgiving by introducing the holiday to them, and I prompted them to talk about the Thanksgiving pictures they were comparing and contrasting -- some of which where Thanksgiving pictures from home:

With these pictures, they compared and contrasted using conjunctions "and" and "but." They definitely found it hard to recognize me with a can of whipped cream and a giant turkey in my face. We also went around and asked each other what we were thankful for by using "Stand Up, Hand Up, Pair Up." (Thank you, Kagan Win-Win!)

For my Friends of Hue students, I created an easier version of the lesson that focused more so on the progressive form of the verbs within the pictures, and they used their creativity to create stories about how they were connected. At the end, we made "ga tay" (Western chicken = turkey) using our "tay" (hands). I always love seeing how creative students get with art:

I also repeated the same lesson with Thanh, who I tutor privately, but scaffolded it to better fit his needs. While working with Thanh, other youth from the shelter was curious about what we were doing and they joined in with us.

Thereafter, I left the shelter to celebrate Thanksgiving with friends that I met through our ex-pat crew, which consists of Vietnamese and Foreigners alike since we all do similar work (teaching, NGO work). The food was AWESOME. Jared prepared a lot of dishes, while other brought their own. I was missing pumpkin pie, and Jared made a dish that was pretty much just as soon as it; it was sweet potatoes, yams (or taro), mixed with condensed milk and all other wonderful goodness. I could've died happy, but there was so much more good food to consume.

Omnivore and vegan options!

Chef Jared!

The picture where my hair didn't cover Jenelle's beautiful face.

The whole crew! (minus Vicky, who is taking the picture, and Taiki, who came a bit later)

Also, Thao (my friend from FFAV, not my sister) made "thach dua," which is coconut jelly. I used to eat thach dua in Hanoi every other day, and Thao knew that I would be one of her biggest fans. I gave her a great big hug before she could set the thach dua down. (I actually am still working on finishing the leftovers!)

Thank you, Thao!

The next day, since Nhuanh (my friend from the Bay Area, who is living in Hue now) and I had separate plans on Thanksgiving Day, we met up and ate her leftovers (and Thao's thach dua). Her food was so delicious! Especially her canh (soup)! But as a Viet-Am with high expectations for her cooking, she was quite disappointed with it. (Whatever, chi, you can cook for me any day.)

Chef Nhuanh!

Overall, it was a great Thanksgiving week. I got to celebrate with Vietnamese and Western friends alike, and I got to talk to some friends and family from back at home. I actually received an e-mail from my mom, telling me that she was at first relieved that she didn't have to cook such a big meal, but then eventually feeling sad about missing her two daughters this season. =( I wish I was home with her, too, but I will get to see her in January when she comes to visit for a month! =)

As we get deeper into the holiday season, I hope to remain as optimistic, and I believe I will. I've been staying put in Hue for the past couple weeks, and I have finally felt at home as I continue to get to closer to the friends who I consistently hang out with. I miss my family and friends at home, but I'm also creating a new home here in Hue, and I'm growing to love it.

Friends in Hue, and Friends of Hue

Life has a strange way of unraveling its plans for you.

Back in 2010, I had the pleasure of meeting two wonderful womyn, Minhchau and Chi Thien-Nhien. Minhchau had reached out to me to join a panel for a United Vietnamese Student Associations (UVSA) of Northern California event called "Black April," where I was to join other speakers to talk about my experience as a Vietnamese-American, specifically regarding the effect of the fall of Saigon / reunification of Vietnam on my family. On this panel was a womyn named Thien-Nhien. Thien-Nhien is the executive director of Friends of Hue, an NGO in Vietnam that was created as a relief-based organization for the flood victims of Thua Thien Hue and nearby areas, and has expanded to assist in other areas such as education and economic self-sufficiency. I didn't know much about the organization other than that, but I remember feeling absolutely honored about sharing the panel with Chi Thien-Nhien, as her words about her experiences and her work spoke to my soul.

Fast forward to September 2012: upon realizing I was going to be placed in Hue, I reached out to Chi Thien-Nhien via e-mail about volunteering for Friends of Hue. The same night, I attended a going-away party with some of my Hue friends, and lo and behold, I run into the beautiful Minhchau herself, literally fresh-off-the-plane from America. She informed me that she was going to work with Friends of Hue in micro-finance, and we talked about our lives since that event and, since I met a couple of other folks who also worked at FoH (Linh and Binh), we eventually came around to talking about connecting with Chi Thien-Nhien about me volunteering with Friends of Hue. Given our brief and meaningful encounters at progressive Vietnamese events in the Bay Area, and our coincidental work opportunities in Hue, we ended our conversation with the belief that the stars had aligned for us to be together in Hue. =)

Thinking about my obligations with the university, it does seem like I have a handful of things to organize along with planning and teaching lessons. However, whenever I think about why I want to teach with FoH or volunteer any other services, I think about my conversation with my dear friend, Andre. When I found out I got into Fulbright, I called a couple people -- one including my housemate, Andre. I told him about my dilemma -- I had two good choices on my hands: 1) continue my life in San Jose, seal the deal with teaching at a small school that aligned with my professional goals, train for a faster half-marathon and marathon time, and stick with a stable set of awesome friends and family, or 2) uproot my life for a year to rediscover myself, dig deeper for my roots, and teach English -- as I had once wanted for myself before I moved to San Jose. Although he tried to remain as impartial as possible, he left off our conversation with this message: That English is valued by many in Vietnam, and that it is inaccessible to those in rural provinces. If I wanted to be in a position to empower others, teaching in Vietnam would be the ideal position to be in. (I think we all know what decision I made given the conversation.)

Teaching in my university has indeed proved to me that my students have not had much exposure to the English language outside school, and as they all aspire to be in positions that require fluent English-speaking (tourism, hotel management, English teaching), I have felt a strong responsibility to them to do my best in breaking down the language. However, in the past couple months, I have felt the need to also take part in community work and be around youth -- as I once had been able to do while I was in the Bay Area. So I reconnected with my friends in FoH, particularly Chi Thien-Nhien and Linh -- who was super boss about setting up a meeting for me, and the staff set up my schedule for me to teach secondary school students in their shelter on Wednesdays, and tutor one student on Thursdays.

I just started this week, and I can already see that I have a lot of work to do, especially if I only meet with each set of students once a week. They all were able to tell me their name and age in English with ease, but once I asked each of them questions about themselves that went beyond that, they stared at me with wide-eyes and shut-lips. However, being as understanding of their context as possible, I responded with a smile and continued by asking scaffolded questions to further gauge their English comprehension and speaking. Binh informed me last night that they have trouble retaining English knowledge because they have no opportunities to practice it outside of class, and English teaching has been less consistent at the shelter due to lack of volunteers. Albeit the challenge, I hope I can teach English in ways that are meaningful and easy enough for them to retain. I aim to learn more about them, their values and their interests so I can tie my lessons to them -- as I have before with my 5th graders.

Sidenote: Speaking of my teaching experience, I realized I've been less strict when teaching. I don't know if it's because I feel I should treat my college students more like my peers (maybe that's why they ran all over me during midterms), or because I feel like I'm teaching my little brothers and sisters. Hanh, a womyn who works at the shelter and used to live there herself, warned me today that I shouldn't get too close because siblings can't teach siblings. Her check reminded me that there as some qualities I should retain when I teach, and that being in Vietnam should be no different. I can be friendly, but we can't be friends. Duly noted.

My (Overdue) Date with Hue

After coming back from my mini-vacation in the South, I realized that I have taken Hue for granted. Here I am, zooming off here and there, and I never really gave her a chance. Also, during the midterm exams, two of the questions were, “If I should go to one place in Hue, where should I go?” and “If I could try one Hue dish, what should I try?” These two main names kept popping up: Thien Mu Pagoda, and bun bo Hue. After having processed the signs, I took my own little Alchemist-like trip around the city by bike and went and stopped wherever my journal wanted to go. I kept my ears perked for the sounds of the city and my mind churning through figurative language to describe my experience in the right words. Every time I found a scenic place to stop, I would take out my journal (given to me by my CMs this past summer!) and pen and let the words flow.

Admittedly, it felt awkward at first. The words coming from the tip of the pen were so mechanical. I haven’t written in so long – it was as though my journal was trying to spit back out my poor attempt of capturing such a beautiful city through mediocre language. However, the more I absorbed myself in my surroundings and took the extra steps necessary to capture the perfect mental image, the more natural my writing felt. Interestingly enough, my words evolved from focusing on personification, to an ode to the city, to a love story between Hue and me. I guess I just needed to get over my fear of penning down horrible writing to just letting things come naturally. (Side Note: Any one in Hue interested in starting up a Poetry Club?)

One day, I’ll post the edited version of my poem here. For now, I will bask in the memory of the beauty I was able to absorb within the three short hours I spent with a beautiful city named Hue.

Saigon Oi!

While talking to my cousin Chi Dung today about my father's hystory in Saigon, I found myself tearing up ... Not that she was telling me a sad story -- in fact, she was telling me fun stories. She was telling me about how her, my father, and my uncle used to hang out while my dad and uncle were attending a university in Saigon. She told me how " quay " my dad was at that age, and how he took her out to fight with people. She told me how their minimal age difference -- even though she's technically considered his niece in Vietnam -- made it really easy for them to be close friends. I teared up because these were stories I wish I heard about growing up. Because I wish my father and her could still easily meet up. Because it took me 25 years and enhanced Vietnamese comprehension to learn this much about my family. Because I knew I have to learn more Vietnamese and have more opportunities to hang out with my relatives to learn more about my parents.

I lived so long not knowing much about my parents while I was in America. I could easily ask them about their roots and about what life was like back in Vietnam, but because of the war, I initially found it hard to ask in fear that asking would bring back sad memories. Another thing is that, because we grew up in isolation from other Vietnamese folks and relatives, and because there was such a huge language barrier, it was hard to learn about my family's hystory through relatives. I recall going to my friends ' house as a kid and learning about their family members easily because they all spoke English, and such was never the case in my own family.

Now that I'm in Vietnam, I feel like I've been working towards filling in this void, and every time I leave conversations with my cousins, my heart feels so much fuller, and my mind so much stronger from acquiring the skills of my mother tongue. This journey in Saigon began in Danang when I arrived Thursday morning to hang out with my cousin Khoai. Khoai is really my brother from another mother. We drove around all day, visited my uncle and aunt in Hoi An, exchanged stories, helped each other develop our language skills -- and I find myself using the same words I used with Khoai during my conversations with my cousins here in Saigon. Because I've been improving at such a fast rate, they feel more free to talk about different topics with me because they know I'll understand them to some extent. They even tell me every time I hang out with them that I've been speaking so well, even though I mistakenly use the wrong pronouns to refer to myself and them at times. (It's really hard to consistently refer to myself as "di" (aunt) when my "nephew" is a year older than me.)

My Saigon / Danang / Germany? family all came through for Bac Thanh and Co Phuong's wedding!

The traditional tea ceremony where the bride and groom have tea and pastries with the family.

Cousins (plus the new addition of Chi Ngoc, Co Phuong's daughter)

The womyn of the fam in front of the wedding banquet hall, where we were to consume hella food and beverages in celebration of such a wonderful union.

The men of the fam at our karaoke after-party. Chu Tam (not pictured) was very proud of me for matching the men in a nhauing match. Haha.

My "niece" Trang and her newborn son. So, I'm technically a grand-aunt now -- "ba di." Chi Dung gets a kick outta calling me that.

Another thing I've been grateful about regarding this trip is the chance I got know Bac Thanh. Growing up, I considered Bac Thanh a distant uncle because he lived in France, hence making it difficult to get to know him. However, he recently retired to Saigon and invited me to his wedding this past Friday. Knowing I rarely get to be part of much a momentous occasion on this side of the world, I flew down the day before and stayed with him for two days. During this trip, I have gotten to know him, his newly-wedded wife, and her daughter, Chi Ngoc, who is only older than me by one year -- and I immediately felt at home with them. They took care of me during my stay, and I have become really close with Chi Ngoc within the past couple days. I admit that I'm pretty sad to leave Saigon tomorrow, but at least I know that I'm only a short flight away from them.

Chi Ngoc took me to "Nga Hang Ngon" (literally "Delicious Restaurant") for brunch one morning. There, we bonded over Bun Thit Nuong -- yum!

Final dinner with fam -- Co Phuong, Bac Thanh, Chi Ngoc and her husband Anh Tung, and me

Being a Viet Kieu Womyn

Simply put, "Viet Kieu" means "overseas Vietnamese." In a more complicated sense, being Viet Kieu can be a blessing and a curse. During orientation, we were warned by Ms. Ginger Davis about the difficult nature of being Viet Kieu in Vietnam. As children to people who fled the country while it was "reunifying," people of the older generation can hold grudges against what we represent rather than who we personally are. However, I've learned that there's more to that in the interactions that I've had with Vietnamese people, especially as a Viet Kieu womyn. I will illustrate what I mean by comparing and contrasting my (VKW) interactions with Vietnamese people as a Viet Kieu Womyn versus any other foreigner's (AOF) interaction with Vietnamese people.

1) When greeting / talking to a new Vietnamese person:
To AOF: "*smiles and giggles* Oh, your Vietnamese is so good!"
To VKW: "*frown of disappointment* Your Vietnamese is horrible / You lost your culture." or the occasional "*smiles and giggles* Oh, your Vietnamese is so good! Did your family speak to you in Vietnamese growing up?"

2) When hanging out with a group of Vietnamese womyn:
To AOF (usually in front of me): "Oh, you're so beautiful / handsome!"
To VKW: *stares at my hair* "Are you growing out your hair?" (inferring that that's what I should do) or "Why are you so dark? I thought you were Lao."

3) When talking to an elder:
To AOF: *usually welcoming, smiling demeanor*
To VKW: "Where are your parents from? When did they leave Viet Nam?" *calculates what year that is relative to the war* *silence* "You need to improve your Vietnamese."

4) When bargaining at a market:
To AOF: *overcharges with a smile*
To VKW: *overcharges without a smile*

Okay, that's not to say that I always get negative experiences as a VK. I definitely am able to get closer to my students and other Vietnamese friends because I have some capacity of speaking Vietnamese. In fact, when I was hanging out with Hong and Tuan Anh the other day, I was able to initiate telling a story in Vietnamese rather than just responding to their questions. (That's a pretty big deal when we're thinking about extra-language development, and it should be marked in my Vietnamese Language Learner progress report for my first-quarter report.) Also, growing up with some Vietnamese customs engrained in my mind has helped me make less faux-pas when navigating this new environment. (However, I still notice that AOFs are more easily forgiven than VKs are -- the curse of high expectations.) I guess those less-pleasant interactions come from the high expectations that Vietnamese people have for other Vietnamese folks, whether or not they were actually raised in Vietnamese.

However, upon reflecting on these experiences, I'm not upset with myself and the people themselves. In fact, thinking more about my interactions with students and womyn in general, I'm more so upset about the internalization of what beauty means in Vietnam. I constantly hear about students talking about how their skin color is ugly is it's not white enough, how fat they think they are (when they're 2/3 my size), how much they don't like their hair, etc. You wonder where they get these conceptions of beauty, then you turn on the TV and see female actors in shows and advertisements with skin as white as snow, who are as thin as my wrist.

Of course, the level of media influence here is no different from America, but somehow here, a lot of young womyn are less self-confident and internalize these negative thoughts about themselves. Hence, when I do have one-on-one conversations with some of them,  I make it a point to talk about awesome they are and how much they don't need a man to make them happy. In fact, a couple friends and I here tend to go off on our womyn-empowerment tips whenever we see each other and hang out with others. Shoot, maybe I should initiate a conversation about starting up a womyn's club for the school with some of the other teachers so we can take these type of discussions to the next level. Or I could relate the next speaking / American culture lesson to seeking things that we like within ourselves (thanks Jenelle for the idea!). Whatever the next step is, it has to help address the students' mental and emotional health so they can feel more confident in themselves, and thus be more comfortable in the classroom and life in general.

Ptolemy vs. Galileo

Back when I was teaching 5th grade, one of my favorite (and at the same time, once feared) themes was "Our Corner of the Universe." (I used to have this irrational fear about the universe, so somehow, I managed to avoid learning specific details beyond the fundamentals of the solar system until I started teaching.) Getting back on topic, I remember that one of the introductory "Read Alouds" was about Ptolemy's theory and Galileo's theory about the universe. Ptolemy believed that the universe revolved around the Earth, and since Galileo's theory about heliocentrism clashed with this dominant thought, everyone thought he was crazy. As modern-day scholars, my students laughed at Ptolemy and scratched their heads at the thought of Earth being at the solar system's center. Yet, that was the dominant thought at that point in time, and there wasn't much at Galileo could do to prove himself because he couldn't share his knowledge in a way that was comprehensible to the public.

Sometimes, I feel like Galileo.

Here in Vietnam, I'm on a mission to prove to the people around me that education should be student-centered. Education institutions exist to serve students to help them reach their goals and future aspirations. Classrooms should allow students to process their thoughts and experiences in relation to the given lesson, and they should have the appropriate amount of time and environment to do so. Administration and staff should wholly support what it takes to support student learning (given, within their limitations). By the end of the semester, students should be able to understand where they are relative to their learning goals, and what next steps they should take in their next course within similar subjects.

However, I feel like I have a bunch of Ptolemists working against my mindset and actions. The administration at my school has accepted students last minute (weeks into the school year) to receive more money, without taking into consideration the teachers and students they are inconveniencing. Thus, I have no confirmed registration for any of my classes, making it difficult for me to properly track students progress because I have new faces in my class each week. My department notifies me the day of or a few days in advance of school events that require me to cancel classes, and when I go, everything is in Vietnamese and everyone in the audience is sleeping. The tech room rarely opens in time for me to get the necessary materials and to get to my class early or even on time. Students are scheduled to meet with me once a week. (How the heck do you learn how to speak English fluently if you only speak it 1.5 hours a week?) Also, the construction outside my classroom always knocks out the first ten minutes and the last 15 minutes of my lesson. (Make that 1 hour a week.)

I've been real flexible about all the conditions. I've created rosters and informally tracked student progress on the roster. I've cancelled my class, and throughout the assembly, I thought of all the good reasons why I was there (i.e. seeing my students being rewarded with high honors and scholarships towards the end). I patiently wait for the tech room to open and apologize to my students for being late if I am. I yell over the construction, then decide to close the doors and windows, and if that doesn't work, I'll end class. I've been reaaaal flexible in comparison to how I usually handle these type of situations in the U.S. (Remember, when in Vietnam...)

And yet, I can't help but be frustrated with the fact that this institution is not proving to be student-centered -- meaning, they are even allowing a type of environment where they cater to staff and students in a way that they support what's best for student learning. Why not advocate for multiple class meetings throughout the week to allow meaningful practice? Why not lessen student workload so they can spend time qualitatively learning each subject? Why not create a calendar for staff and students for us to know in advance of upcoming school events? Why not keep tech folks accountable for showing up early to make sure teachers get to start class on time? Why not ask construction workers to work during times that students aren't in classes? These are questions that I ask myself all the time, and when I bring it up with Vietnamese folks, I just get the "I don't know" and double-hand shake-wave. (Vietnam homies, you know what I'm talking about.)

Back in the States, it was so easy to do things the way I saw fit for my students since my administration knew how committed I was to my students and trusted me. However, being in a new country, I've been forced to adapt my ways to fit the environment I'm in. I've been able to backwards plan lessons that I see fit for students, and I often do my best to plan activities where they can engage in the content in meaningful ways. I have a big learning curve to deal with when it comes to understanding the learning culture here... yet, I'm still aiming to share and learn how we can make classrooms for student-centered, whether it takes converting one Ptolemist at a time, or working together with a group of Galileo followers to make the education here as student-centered as possible.

American Homies in Viet Nam

Vay and Armael visited last week, so I got to take a break and be a tourist for a bit. Unforunately, Vay was sick one day, so Armael and I explored on our own. We rented a motorbike, ran errands, and ended up at Thuan An Beach in Hue. The beach was basically secluded, minus some students who were enjoying a post-school day and flirty afternoon together. Armael played the Uke, and we chilled out.

I joined the guys on a weekend trip to Hoi An, where we stayed at my aunt's hotel and hung out at the beach. Here, the guys are showing off their newly clipped toenails.

We met up with Nhuanh, then headed into the town after eating Com Ga. Because it was Tet Trung Thu (Mid-Autumn Festival), the town turned off all their lights and kids were dropping off lit lanterns into the river while other kids paraded around with their lionheads. 

A womyn lighting lanterns to be dropped into the river.

The homies before the rain set in!

We met up with my new friends who are staying in Da Nang, Leslie and Casey. Leslie is an English Fellow who is teaching English at Da Nang University, and Casey is her husband. She heard about me through Fulbright, and since I'm the only other person based on Central Vietnam, we got in contact.

I got to catch the tail-end of Tet Trung Thu at Hue. No lanterns on the Perfume River, but the bridge does have a beautiful light display at night time.

I was told last minute that I had to attend the opening ceremony for our college. I was conflicted with canceling class or holding class and attending after. However, I decided "when in Vietnam..." and cancelled my class to attend the full ceremony. It was quite tedious, given that there was no English translation and that some speeches were long and uninspiring, but seeing some of students receive awards towards the end made it all worth it.

Nhuanh was in town for her cousin's wedding, so we met up for Banh Hue.

This is why it's so easy to get fat in Central Viet Nam -- hella good food.

Nhuanh dropped off a gift form Vay and Armael -- a loving message written on a banana that ended with a drawing of the cookie joke. <3

The message was edible!

I came back to Ha Noi for the Fulbright 20th Anniversary Gala and to handle some visa extension paperwork. I stayed with Amelia and Vanlam for the first three nights, and we made sure to enjoy all the things that we typically don't get in our province, particularly Thach Dua (coconut with jelly inside). Yum!

14 of the 15 ETAs came through (we missed you, Justin!) and we reunited with our favorite hotel staff/friends of all time. Here, Lam and Quan are displaying how much love we have for each other.

My Fulbright teaching team! =)

(Most of) the ETA ladies at the Gala.

(Most of) the ETA guys at the Gala (and Andrew, our honorary ETA/awesome instructor/ride-or-die "doggie")

The next morning, there was a Fulbright football (in America, called "soccer") game against another fellowship program. It was great being able to return to my old habits of heckling along the sidelines and playing sports photographer (as I used to do back in high school).

Later on that day, we had lunch at Chi Diu's. Amelia and I helped prepare the spring rolls in pho rice paper (center). Also, best new discover this weekend: Taro fries. Get on it, America!

At the end of lunch, Chi Diu's son showed off his English/singing skills. He's absolutely adorable!

Probably one thing that was stuck with me for the past two weeks was how much I appreciate being able to be myself. When Vay and Armael visited me, I went back to old habits of joking around and speaking using slang that is common in the Bay Area. (Even my blogging isn't really my real form of speaking.) During my trip to Ha Noi, I got to reminisce about things I enjoyed about American Culture with my ETA friends, especially concerning hip-hop and Chappelle show skits. I can't say that I'm particularly homesick, but moments shared like those remind me of the little things I miss. I used to quote Chappelle and Will Ferrell like crazy, turn on the radio or Pandora and jam to some good ol' hip-hop, and indulge in silly comedic clips on Youtube. I do less of that in Hue because I haven't really discovered such a scene or group of friends that do similar things, but that's part of immersion in a different culture. There are things that you put on hold because it's not readily available, and that's okay. Hue -- and Vietnam in general -- has been so wonderful to me in different ways that I'm okay with holding a reserve of things that used to make me, me. Hopefully, in the near future, I can do what other ETAers / English fellows have done in terms of integrating things that I like to say into the English lesson.

I will end this post of a song Andrew put me onto. Definitely wouldn't have heard about it without his recommendation. (Thanks, holmes!) Friends, please feel free to send me some good music, because it would definitely be a nice break from One Direction's "That's What Makes You Beautiful..."