Apartment Hunting, Installment One

It's 5:45 am...I have finally slept through the night. Now I just have to move past eating only French baguettes~ they are all I have been able to consider for two days. It feels like someone is churning churning churning a crank outside my stomach...sorry to disappoint you. I could describe the bread -- it is very tasty... or the boxed lunch pizza at the meeting that came with sweet and sour sauce instead of marinara~

I can confirm that beginning of the year meetings are just as dull in foreign countries as they are at home. Everyone just wants to socialize and instead we must listen to theories and rules and legal issues of Vietnam. Both schools, elementary and secondary, met together, and as usual, there are a few who just love to talk, talk talk.

After the meeting, though, two of Tu's friends take three of us, Tarn from NZ, Katherine from Canada, and me apartment hunting. Jem speaks a few words of English, but carries on in Vietnamese as if we can understand every word, so we all just nod. Yen is a bit better, but neither really understand what we are looking for. What the night turns into, then, is a tour of Saigon. By the way, Saigon was renamed Ho Chi Minh City in 1975 after the war but is called by both names (some have asked for clarification). Saigon is so much easier to write, I am defaulting to that.

This city is divided into 10 Districts, and it's got to be one of the most confusing cities to navigate~just give me the grid of New York City any day. There is no public transportation (Seattle, we are not alone!) so motorbikes swarm and flow all around our taxi van (I am trying to decide how to describe it, that will happen in a future post). The first place they show us is on the other side of the river from the elementary school. Yen tells us that a bridge is being built to cross the canal and then, sometime in January, it will take only minutes to get there. For now, though, the commute takes over forty five minutes. As Yen explains this to us, we approach a slum which is juxtaposed by a brand new high rise apartment building. The lobby is dark and empty and open, unfinished. The landlord comes and we take an elevator fifteen stories up. The apartment is unfinished. We see no one in the vast building. Yen tells us how great this place is going to be. If we want, the landlord will furnish it within weeks and we can move in right away. While Jem and Yen discuss things with the landlord (we finally figure out that they will get a kick-back from the landlord for showing us), Tarn, Katherine and I decide that there are two things wrong with this place: 1) It's in a creepy location and 2) it's a creepy space. We decide that if we are to live here, we will take it unfurnished. We will come home and live in darkness and scribble on the walls and dance outside in the lobby late at night next to the slum and sleep in a sleeping bag. We will ride a dugout canoe across the river. But to them we say, "Thank you for showing us. It's very nice, but since the bridge is not finished, we can't take it."

The next place is in a better section of town, but it's on the 18th floor and I experience Vertigo on the balcony. It's also new and yet to be furnished. The third place is just a few minutes from the high school and resembles a traveler's room in a cozy house of only four stories. The room barely fits a double bed. Downstairs, we enter an alleyway and Jem and Yen motion for us to sit down at a plastic table with plastic chairs, and order sugarcane drinks for us. What this picture does not capture are the men next to the table hunched over three huge catfish, bludgeoning them to death.

Our apartment hunting is complete for the night. It's 9:00 and we are hungry, so the three of us head to the open market to eat. It reminds me so much of Stir Fry Street, I try to muster the stomach from within, but bread is still all I can do. I finally fall into bed and dream about swarms of motorbikes.

I will leave you with a correction regarding the "That Girl" sequence sent by my cousin, Lisa: "Oh, and I am sure someone - probably Dennis - has already corrected you on your recollection of "That Girl" - I think you were morphing "Breakfast at Tiffany's" (pink suit and pill box hat) with "That Girl". Actually, Marlo was wearing a big rimmed hat (60's style) and tossed it in the air. I am old enough to remember every episode, and probably could name every character - not a fact I am particularly proud of, really."

Thank you, Lisa. I like it that you figured that Dennis would correct me on "That Girl."

Thirty-Six Stories, So Little Time to Write Them

How can I describe this day? Maybe I can break it down into three parts.

1. New teacher/parent orientation at the Saigon Sheraton Hotel
2. Brunch buffet with a group of teachers at the Regence Hotel
3. Next door at the spa

1a. Downstairs, a breakfast buffet is served every morning, and this is where the adventure really begins: "Hi, are you teaching at AIS? Where are you from? How did you find out about this job?" And thirty-six stories of how and why people from all over the world decided to come to HCMC within a matter of weeks begin to emerge. Here are a few short versions:

Doug: I'm choosing to introduce him first because within seconds of meeting me, he is using large hand gestures to describe the crab legs and scallops on the half shell he had for dinner last night. He has been teaching in South America for 17 years...Columbia, Venezuela, Chile, Peru. This summer he decided to jump to Vietnam. He's always wanted to come here. He doesn't miss the US at all.

Alice: She is a true international girl. Born in England to a French mother and a British father, she has gone to school in France, Equador and Thailand (and speaks all of these languages fluently). She spent the past six years attending CUNY University in New York City where she studied theater and dance, was married briefly, and because of her divorce and her decision to join her parents here in Vietnam (they teach at the other school), she cannot return to the US for ten years (the divorce made her illegal). She considers New York more "home" than anywhere else, so this is a hard choice. She is exotically beautiful and she will be teaching drama.

Tarn: From New Zealand, has been teaching in Chengdu China, was there when the earthquake hit. Loved China, but found out about this job and said "Why not?"

Most of "us" are from the US: Chicago, San Diego, Portland, Iowa... but a few come from Canada, the UK and Australia/NZ. I like everyone; it seems to be a good, fun group.

After breakfast we are picked up from this hotel and are taken to the Sheraton Hotel, where all parents and students have been invited to attend an orientation. None of us want to stop chatting in the lobby, but we have to sit through four hours of PowerPoint presentations about EVERYTHING school related in a packed auditorium...kids of all ages have come with their parents. I can't believe how still they sit through this boring meeting! The parents ask tons of questions at the end. I can hardly stand it~ I never got back to sleep last night~

One last comment on pt 2: I really like the principal. If my first impression is correct, he is smart, genuine and has a gentle spirit. An American, he went to high school in Costa Rica and most recently has been a principal in China. He, too, has always wanted to work in Vietnam. He was circulating in the lobby of the hotel, meeting and greeting all of his new staff. When he met me, I was in a large group of people. "Oh! Marjie! I'm glad you made it! (he was not in charge of interviewing and had only slight input in hiring). (He says to everyone) "Marjie took a group of students to save the Leatherback turtles of Costa Rica!" Of course I thought that was so cool that he remembered that detail from our brief email correspondence, but I guess if Costa Rica is close to his heart then he would definitely remember.

2a. Even though I am exhausted after the meeting, I have made a pact to stay awake as long as possible to beat my jet lag. Some of the teachers decide to get the gourmet buffet at the Regence Hotel. It's not really my thing, as you know, but it turns out to be a great social gathering. I sit next to one of my future sixth graders, Di Wa. Her mother and father have both been teachers here, but are each pursuing other careers now. He is black and from North Carolina and she is from the Phillippines. Their two daughters are beautiful and have been raised in Burma (what they still call it), Thailand, and here in Vietnam. Her name is Vangie. We eat and drink wine all afternoon (I mean, Di Wa doesn't...), and I just don't have the energy to write about all of the other great people there...

3a. When I return to the hotel, my goal is to stay awake...what to do? I decide to go next door for a pedicure and an hour-long massage. Both cost me a total of $18 (twice as much as in China!). While I'm getting the pedicure, Cynthia, my new hero since last night at 1:30 am, comes down from the massage room looking all noodly and says, "I have never done anything like this. I think I'm going to do this here a lot. Is every other day too much?" After my massage, I come down to find her in a chair "getting a new doo." I think she is going to be one of my favorites. She is giving this all she's got.

When I pay at the front, a very cute girl asks me where I am from. When I answer "Seattle" she just about jumps out of her skin. "I am going to Seattle next month!!!!!!" Can you believe that she has finally been granted a Visa and will attend Seattle Central Community College on Capital Hill to pursue a degree in International Business. She is so full of questions about Seattle...she doesn't know anyone there. Her sister is behind the counter and does not understand much English. When Michelle, the Seattle bound one, tells her I am from there and tells her that I say there are many Vietnamese people in Seattle, she begins to cry. "My sister is very scared for me to go there. I keep telling her it's OK!" I ask her where she will live. "I'm not sure, but I think I can find a homestay through the internet." So of course, I need to ask all of you, do you know anyone who might be interested in hosting a very cute, articulate Vietnamese girl who has ambitions to study business in Seattle? I don't know, it's worth asking!

I'm just about to go out and meet some people for dinner. No pictures today, only a lot of words. I'll leave you with this: I'm feeling really, really good about being here. I like these people and today I enjoyed the energy of HCMC. Today's kind of day is absolutely one of my favorite kind of days: meeting people who do the same kind of crazy things I do is pure fun. I think the last person flies in tonight. What will her story be?

(Sorry for the poor grammar and tense changes. Maybe I will edit this later!)

That "Uncle Ho"

I did not get to fly on a Hello Kitty Eva Jet. What a disappointment, because the lead-up was so dramatic with the pink striped gate in the waiting area with all of the little pictures and the playground. The gate seemed way too special to lead to nothing. My brother, who called me on Skype right after I posted (and yes, we talked through the internet for free while I was at the airport in Taipei and the connection was better than the one between our cell phones from Seattle to Bellingham) asked if he could have my Hello Kitty tray (what nerve!). Well, Brian, neither of us will get one now.

Anyway, I'm retrieved from the airport by a cute girl named Tu (pronounced "Du") holding a card with my name on it right outside the airport. She introduces herself as the "Director of Student and Staff Relations." During the bus ride (the Mercedes Benz bus is owned by the school) to the hotel (which is in District One, the most interesting district, according to my Eyewitness Travel guide), I ask her what her job entails. At first she says she is not exactly sure, because she is new along with most of the teachers, and then she lists a variety of duties and says, "And I have the most important job there is. I count the days you work and am in charge of payroll!" (she cracks up). Then she hands me a new SIM card loaded with time as well as one million Dong (the name for money here, which is ripe for fun). "Now I am making you a millionnaire!"(cracks up). I ask if Ho Chi Minh is on every bill. "Yes, he is. We call him Uncle Ho!" (cracks up.) "Just like you have Uncle Sam, right?" (cracks up). Well, I guess...except her uncle is real and inspired a gritty movement for independence, I think.

The ride there reminds me of my passenger days in China, where Amy and I uttered The Lord's Prayer in taxis on many occasions. "Motorbikes," pedicabs, cars and buses swerve in and out in front and behind, wherever there is space. I read that HCMC is filled with motorbikes, but I would describe it as a motorbike army. Most people on these scooters are wearing bandanas or face masks, but it doesn't seem particularly smoggy, and, thank goodness, the heat is not sucking the air out of my lungs. I think that my summer experience in Shaoxing toughened me up for life regarding heat and humidity.

We arrive at the hotel, Tu hands me a map and points me in the direction of the famous market just two blocks away and leaves. "Have a good time! See you tomorrow!" (she is taking me and some others apartment hunting after the parent orientation at the school). It's a nice hotel, and it's my home for the next two weeks.

After getting somewhat organized, I head toward the magnet which is the market--because I am hungry, and so, so excited. On the way there... I pass carts with fruits, vegetables, steamed banana leaves filled with rice and mung bean paste, salad rolls, sandwiches, fried fish and pho. I was too young to be a real "That Girl" fan, but the way I feel is like Marlo Thomas in the opening credits, where she is wearing the pink suit and the pill box hat and purse with the white gloves (is this an accurate memory?) and she is so overwhelmed by New York City and her freedom and love for her surroundings that she throws her hands in the air and spins around as the camera zooms out, capturing the moment. This is how I feel now, as I take in the food options in my path. I need an overhead camera...I take one of everything, and it is all delicious.

When I head back to the hotel, I run into a group of teachers. I like them all immediately. They invite me out for a drink and we are out for hours, just laughing and talking and planning excursions for the year...

OK, now, go back to the part that reads "on the way there..." I will now tell you how it really happened. There are no food carts, and I am gripped with fear at having to play Frogger across the street, a game I learned to play so well in China. I can hardly muster the courage to cross. Outside of the market there are numerous people with deformed limbs. They approach me, point at their deformity and ask for money. I enter the part of the market where women are hacking away at meat with cleavers, then move to the area where women are hacking at Dorian, the stinkiest fruit on the planet. The market must be ten blocks by ten blocks and it reminds me of the market in Oaxaca, only the goods are just a little different. Just like Oaxaca, there is an area of counters where women are serving pretty much the same foods: noodles, fried fish, snails, meat on sugarcane and salad rolls instead of enchiladas, tamales and chili rellenos. Every time I pause at a stand, a menu is shoved into my hands and I am commanded to "Sit down." Finally, I choose a clean-looking stand and order the shrimp salad rolls. They are chewy, not fresh, not even close to Tamarind Tree delicious. While I am eating, I see flies landing on the rolls in the case. When I stand up, jet lag hits and the market with its smells and sounds starts spinning, a spin quite unlike the spin in the "That Girl" opening credits.

I head back to my hotel--it's 3:30 in the afternoon and I'm going to sleep, just for a few minutes. I wake up and it's midnight. I'm starving, so I eat a Power Bar. One of my lights flickers on and off even though it's turned off, so I have to stand on a stool to unscrew it. Did I mention that I'm starving? And I haven't met any teachers.

I am not discouraged --just hungry and there aren't any Hello Kitties --or windows--in my hotel room, where I am wide awake and did I mention- hungry. I just got an email from another teacher who is also wide awake, so I suggested a hotel lobby meeting at 1:30 am. Not sure if she will think that is really weird, but we'll see. Someone go and eat a salad roll at the Tamarind Tree for me, OK?

**One hour later: Cynthia did meet me in the hotel lobby. She is my new hero. She is from San Diego and has only left California twice - she has never been overseas. Because California is laying off so many teachers, she decided to look "elsewhere." She is in her 50's and has three kids in their twenties; her two sons are freaking out about her split second decision to pick up and move, but her new husband of two years is supportive. She thinks it's good that he is out of touch in Dublin on business at the moment, because he "doesn't do well when I cry." Like when she tried to convert traveler's checks at the bank and they told her they "didn't do that anymore." She talked to her 80 year old dad on Skype today, though, and she was able to cry with him. She's teaching second grade. She is looking at this as a once-in-a-lifetime adventure. Like I said, she is my new hero. She can be your new hero, too.

Hello Ho Chi Minh City Kitty

Wow, this 13 hour flight from Seattle to Taipei was the best ever. I boarded a half-full Eva Airbus at 1:30 am, found my entire row empty, took a sleeping pill, woke up for meals only and suddenly it was over. My two hour trip to San Francisco last month felt three times longer. Now, sitting at the Eva Air gate waiting for my flight to Ho Chi Minh City, I feel so, so....happy. Here's why: First, look at the seat I am sitting in while I enjoy free wireless service:

And now, see the gate to which I will enter my what-will-now-surely-be-a-magical year in HCMC:Who could deny the power of HK's extreme cheerfulness? Behind me is a Hello Kitty Playground, around the corner I can see what Hello time it is all around the world, and I can use a pink Hello phone to call home if I want. I am hoping that I will get to board a Hello Kitty Jet for my next short flight...I saw one when we landed. You know that one of these planes would never "fly" in the uptight US. Here's an explanation of Eva Air's Hello Kitty Jet:

"EVA repeated the livery theme inside the cabin by creating a Hello Kitty fantasy with sweet Hello Kitty paintings on the walls, and by outfitting flight attendants with Hello Kitty ribbons for their hair and Hello Kitty aprons. Passengers booked on EVA’s Hello Kitty Jet will get pink Hello Kitty boarding passes and luggage tags. Onboard, they will enjoy a series of inflight Hello Kitty service accessories, Hello Kitty meals, and have access to exclusive EVA Air Hello Kitty duty-free shopping."

I really, really want a Hello Kitty meal.

I have three hours to wait in this very happy place, which makes me even more happy. After two weeks of packing up my life and executing countless details to make this happen, and after a great sleep, I can just sit and relax with all of the kitties. Next week, I will have to start worrying about whether or not I can be Smarter Than an ESL Vietnamese 6th Grader in matters of ancient history.

Oh, you probably noticed my blog name: "Pho~ a long, long way to run..." courtesy of my #1 fan, Karyn Norris. I may have been tempted to choose hers no matter what, because she is my #1 Fan. But this one just grew on me more and more. Dennis says that the lyrics are actually "Far~a LONGER way to run" and he threatened to never read the blog if I dissed Julie Andrews by misquoting her. Well, "longer" just doesn't make you SING it, does it? By the way, I was asked for a pho-netic spelling of pho: it's "fuh."

Well, I am off to find some food. Hello Food?

Evangelism

The other day my brother and sister-in-law asked me what I would miss most from home. They claim that I answered "tacos" before they added the caveat "besides friends and family." Well, they have yet to experience the Taco Bus on Rainier Ave. S and Court St (and they didn't think about the fact that I interact more with them when I am gone than when I'm here and that tacos can't post witty things on my blog).



I posted about another taco bus last summer, one just south of this one in Columbia City "Taco Bus=Happiness." That bus is great, but JP, who knows both humbao AND tacos (and what else, JP?), was quick to set me straight. And I listen to JP. Ever since December, I have taken at least one person per month to the bus (which you actually climb into to order, instead of ordering through the window) and my efforts have resulted in many conversions. The truth is that there is no better taco, in Seattle or Mexico (or Texas, so I've been told). My search has been thorough. Now, only through this posting, can I continue to spread the word while I am gone.

Here is what I order, every single time, clockwise from the left: 1) Mulita with avocado 2) Sopita 3) Taco. And I always get them with carnitas: roasted pork, rendered crispy fat on the edges. Squeeze a lime on all of it and don't forget the hot sauce.


Go forth, and tell me when you do.

My Soul is a Good Student. (Can it name my blog?)

At the end of January - on Super Bowl Sunday, in fact- I attended a "Soul Collage" party/session at my cousin Lisa's house.

Here is a very simplified description of the Soul Collage process: a group of six of us went through stacks of magazines looking for cool pictures, cut them out and arranged them on cards. A very gracious facilitator named Mary guided us through the process. According to the website, the goal is:

"Cards containing the images you select --- or the images that select you --- come straight through your Soul, contacting the intuition, bypassing the mind."

To tell you the truth, I just enjoyed the day and had very little expectation from my soul. Lisa has interesting friends and her house is cozy and she makes great food. So at the end of the day, I went home satisfied with my little "art project." I put it away and didn't look at it again until just a few days ago, when I was packing things up for my trip to Vietnam.

When I saw the first one with the orca tail, the eagles and the flying squirrel riding the wave I laughed. When my quest for a "next step" began this July in a serious way, I signed up for a Kayak trip to the San Juan Islands...something I have always wanted to do. I went with a company called "Outdoor Odysseys" for the sole reason that they emphasized gourmet camp food on their website. The name of the tour? "Eagles and Orcas: San Juan Island Kayak Trip." I am not making this up...here, look at their website (and sign up, because they make coconut curry vegetables and tortilla soup and eggs fritatta and teach you about island history): http://www.outdoorodysseys.com/

At the end of the collage process, we chose one card to write about in a structured manner. I wrote about myself in the place of the flying squirrel (which one of Lisa's friends gave me at the last minute to complete my picture) and I mentioned wanting to jump in, loving freedom, being ready to fly somewhere new and tap into that adventure part of myself.

So, THAT is cool and fun and everything, and it is what I have been talking about all year: needing change. And adventure is not something new to me.

But then I pulled out card #2 and felt chills. Look at it! I had forgotten about these completely. If that is not a Vietnamese child, maybe she is Cambodian, but still...by the way, I just got word I am teaching sixth grade instead of high school. What age is this child, anyway? And is that the universe in the background? With a transparent plastic bag? Did my soul know about the beginning of my quest and the end result of it back in January? Did it know it was going to last most of the summer until I had two weeks to pick up my life and rent my condo? Could it maybe have given me just a little heads up, if so?

Simple little art project? What do you think? I am of the opinion that my soul was paying much better attention at that party than I was. Now I'm thinking that if I had "bypassed the mind" -as the Soul Collage mission states- during college, and sent my soul to class instead, I would have earned much higher than the 3.0 that is now on my transcript.

Now, onto something so simple yet so elusive: I have not named my blog yet. You all have offered such great names, and SBill, I kind of like your Nummy Nammy one best (locker partners forever!). But none of them are quite right! Maybe if I tell my soul to name it, it will happen. But here are all of the suggestions:

Brian: What the Pho? Eating and Teaching in Vietnam

Miriam and Jo: Pho for Me and Tasty Times in Ho Chi Minh City

Dennis: Mekong, You Read and Vietnamerica

Sbill: Pho'n and Pho'nics in Nummy Vietnammy

Mine: Pho Pho Sho

Dennis, who named my China blog "Noodle by Noodle in a State of Confucian" and who was surely laughing when he read about my soul, says he is "A Slave to IT" and IT must come to him to name my blog again. He says this thing a lot, like he was a slave when IT made him stuff a few heads in a refrigerator. Dennis, can you at least try to tune into your soul to name my blog because your IT isn't even getting close? Just try it. You can borrow Jimmy Jack and my leftover Soul Collage cards if you want.

OK everyone...keep trying! It's getting close to the wire (a week from yesterday)~

Motivations

Last week I interviewed for a teaching job in Ho Chi Minh City through Skype, an internet phone...thing. If you must ask, Ok, yes, the job was posted on Craigslist. Where and how, other than on Craigslist, do people conduct their lives? I don't remember! Anyway, at first they told me I was inter

viewing for a K-5 position. I thought, well, that will be different and I want different. Then I was told they had an opening in high school social studies. I thought, well, OK. Then they found out that English was my "thing." The end of the story: I will be teaching English at the American International School in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. That's right...two nights ago, I bought a one-way ticket to Saigon. Pushing the "purchase" button for a one way ticket to Saigon was a little weird.

When I called to tell my parents, my mom responded with the usual. "We never know what you're going to tell us when you call." I responded with, "Just think how I feel." This couldn't be any more last-minute.

Back to the interview...when the principal asked me why I wanted to teach in Vietnam, here's what the thought bubble above my head looked like:

...so I paused. "Well," I said. And I paused again. Finally, I said, "Um, honestly, I want to teach in Vietnam because of the food." He laughed. He said, "I eat pho ga every day!"

Here are a few details: the school has gone from 70 to 700 within one year. Vietnamese parents want their kids to get an English education so that they can go to University in the states...and Vietnam has a red hot economy now, etc. This recruiting company is hiring 30 new teachers for this school year. It's a brand new facility, and they follow the California State standards-based curriculum. Thirty teachers are now in the process of picking up and moving with very little notice; it will not be dull. To use Jaci's comment, "They should have a Real-World camera on all of you!" They are putting us up in a hotel for two weeks, assigning us a Vietnamese "buddy" who will help us find an apartment. The pay is good for Vietnam...I will be making $2600 plus a $300 stipend for housing. They were thorough in their interview process. I don't know what else to say...

Here's the school's website: http://www.ais.edu.vn/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=3&Itemid=44

Many of you remember my trials teaching in China--no air conditioning, no curriculum among those trials. I said to my mom, "I am going to die in the heat!" She said, "Well, just remember how you endured it in China. Because, you know, you DID endure it." All I remember is that I endured it by promising myself I would never again go to a place that sucked the air out of my lungs. It has been confirmed that the heat in Ho Chi Minh City will suck the air out of my lungs. But then, I know people who FOUGHT in Vietnam, so I can probably walk to school there. My former neighbor, Patti, married to a Vietnam Vet, said, "At least you won't have to drop your pants and check for leeches." I sure hope I won't have to do that.

To summarize and reflect, in 2001, about two weeks after 9-11, I got on a plane to teach in the food pit of the world (with apologies to Cecilie, who is reading this. Norway has wonderful pastries, and she herself is an amazing cook. And it's not that I don't love hot dogs wrapped in bacon and meatcakes and potatoes and waffles). But it's seven years later, and I am getting on a plane to teach in the food mecca of the world. And that makes me pretty happy.

Please help me name my blog for this next chapter~