My Mother Thinks I Am #1!

I'm negotiating my way through the market this morning (now I must do my shopping first, then head back to the castle to get my bike) when I hear my mother calling:

"Mari!"

I turn and he is smiling. He points at me, then makes the gesture of giving gas to a motorbike, like "You got a motorbike?"

I nod sheepishly... but no need, because my mother lights up even more, gives me two thumbs up and says, "Mari, Number One!"

I am so surprised by his enthusiasm, and by the fact that - yes, my mother does know it is time for me to spread my wings and fly in this city. My supportive mother. I want to tell him that yesterday all I wanted to do was run right back into his arms - I mean - right back onto the back of his motorbike. But no, my mother, he is soooo proud of me, so I don't tell him that.

I couldn't tell him that, anyway.

I'm a little embarrassed by the praise raining upon me, so I divert by asking/gesturing to him, "Ms. Sue, firefighter hat?"

Nam nods a John Wayne "yes" and just says, "Cowboy."

Ok, now wipe the tear from your eye like I did, and come with me on my motorbike morning adventure. No dress or heels today, because there was heavy rain last night and I know the dirt bike section of road is likely to be flooded. It is. It is either thick mud or up to eight inches of water in some places. Me and the rest of the bikers - we choose our paths carefully, put our feet up, and hope that our bikes don't flood.

I have jumped out of a plane at 10,000 ft, but free falling doesn't really compare to the rush of adrenaline I get during my commute to work through the mud and water. You know what? It's really, really fun. For now, at least. I arrive to school feeling like I can conquer the world.

And then I teach English all day long.

But today, we talked about how to change the world through reading books, so I think the mud adrenaline just may have fueled my inspirational lesson~

Quirky Me in Quirky Ho Chi Minh City

Today I released my motorbike from the castle front gates, got on it wearing a dress, heels, helmet and sunglasses and rode to work - just like any other professional woman in Saigon. Except that unlike those cool cats, my heart was pounding right out of my chest, and even though I spent much of Saturday and Sunday riding my hip Honda manual (which I then traded in for a much more expensive yet much less hip Attila automatic- manual was a bit much for me at this point), I was SCARED to DEATH to be in such heavy traffic in the morning, especially on my first day of school. First Days of School really bother me.

But Brian, you are right...my mother did train me well. It really, truly was no big deal; the traffic moves slowly and you just follow everyone else and go with the flow of it. But I realized this after getting to school. All the way there I was somewhere in between hysterical laughter and hysterical sobbing. Laughing because I was thinking of what a sight I would be dressed like this riding in Seattle, crying out of complete fear. And there's this portion of road around the construction that gets really muddy and sometimes floods...my friend Steven says I need to think about it like dirt biking - dirt biking in a dress and high heels though. But that went OK, too. The guards at school - ones that I consider friends now - gave me a thumbs up when they saw me on the bike. So has everyone else: Sweet Seamstress, T and T, etc.

So here's what I did about Nam: I went and found Minh Sunday morning. I gave him the Seattle Firefighter hat from Sue and some jam from my parents to give to Nam when he saw him. Then I told him that I got a motorbike and that I would drive myself to school, but that I had friends coming to visit and would like him to be their driver. All of this was met with no emotion from Minh, but that is probably because his parents woke him up to come and talk to me.

And I admit it - I got up extra early this morning so I wouldn't pass Nam on the street. I admit something else...I do feel bad about this switch in more ways than just Nam. I joined the most expensive gym in Saigon because it's within walking distance of the school - it's deluxe with TV monitors on all treadmills, new weights, great classes, a lap pool, sauna and steam bath - anyway, in only one week I had befriended the xe-om drivers outside of the gym and they were very happy to get my business. These guys just sit for hours on end with nothing to do and many of them are so nice. With one motorbike rental, I removed myself from this community. It is sad.
So...about school. When I arrived today feeling extra brave, I was met by my principal on the stairs. He told me that my schedule had changed from two Ancient History and three English classes to all English. I am very, very sad about this. It's a long story as to why it happened and I don't feel like going into it, if you wanna know the truth. 6th grade English All Day Long will be my life this year. And right outside my classroom lives a crazy family who sings really bad karaoke all day long or has knock out, screaming, yelling fights. And the construction outside makes the building shake like we are experiencing a constant earthquake. What a quirky place, what a quirky life.

HOWEVER, all of that aside, you cannot imagine how much fun it was to see my kids from last year. It was really fun. And the kids this year seem just as perfect. Even if I can't make them into gods and goddesses.

I am going to leave this quirky day on that note.

I'm Turning Vietnamese

I am now a part of the masses of motorbike owners in the city of Saigon.

And I am also now about to let my Mother go.

You can see Monkey Boy here in front of the parking lot that is the castle's new front room - my bike is the black one. The one next to it is Thuy's. The two bikes are Tarn and Katherine's (Tarn is joining us for a Castle Dinner).

I have been thinking about becoming a Saigon bike owner for quite some time now. I have a motorcyle endorsement and have ridden my Vino 125 around Seattle for the past two summers, and now many of our new, savvy teachers have gone and rented motorbikes the first week they arrived - without any riding experience at all. Puts me to shame! Anyway, somehow, returning for year two makes many things just seem easy - I know how to negotiate things, I know the layout of the city...it's just easier. And most of my new route to school is rather nice - I ride along a river - it's much better than the congested route to school last year.

And then there's what happened the other morning. I hadn't seen Nam for four days. The first few days I hid from him, then the third and fourth days I actually looked for him in his spot and didn't find him (Laid back, easy Mr. Seven took me to school). But on Friday, Nam's wife spotted me from her deep fried fish cake stand outside of Nam's mother's house as I was making my way through the market and she motioned me over and pointed me inside. There was Nam, hovering over his very-thin-but-sitting-up-mother. Remnants from the stroke still disfigure her face and her weight loss is severe, but she was smiley when I walked in and sat down. Actually, Nam looked at me rather tentatively for a moment, but when I stuck my hand out he grabbed it and shook it vigorously. I spent a few minutes holding his mother's hand, then asked Nam if he could take me to school.

So my Mother, Chatty Cathy, chats at me all the way to school. He keeps pointing to my tan skin and comparing it to his own and is telling me something like he hasn't been in his spot at seven since I left, etc. It's kind of nice....for about two minutes. Then he starts being his regular know-it-all self. I can't really explain all of it, but when we get within sight of the new school (in a very awful construction zone), I point to it across the pit of new road so he'll know where it is.

Well, the thing is that you have to go around that huge pit in a big circle, so he tells me "No! it's not that way, it's this way!

And, of course, The Repeater keeps repeating the hand motions of how he must go around the site- because obviously he knows everything and I know nothing - so finally I just can't take it anymore and say, "I KNOW! I I KNOW! I KNOW!"

And then, "I was just showing you where the school was!"

Well, of course he doesn't understand my outburst, so he pulls over, stops and just looks at me. I make the motion of going around the site and nod. But it's in this moment that I know for sure I cannot have a Mother for year number two in Saigon.

Just can't.

No way.

So, yes, I am dreading the moment that I must tell Nam I have a bike. It will be painful to see his face fall.

At least I don't have to see your faces fall, especially Mungo's. Nam was about one-fourth of my blog last year, and I hate to lose him as a character. But I have lots of visitors coming, and plan to tell him that I want to hire him for them. But I know, it just won't be the same.

I need to give you time to process this, so I will end it here. We are cooking with Thuy and Thanh tonight, and I have all kinds of news about the school, so stay tuned, and we will see how it goes here without stories about Nam my Mom.

Flailed Back in the Hood

Here is what I wrote about parting with Thuy and Thanh back in June:

All Thuy could manage was "See you next week" - she doesn't get too sappy - but Thanh hugged me and told me how much she was going to miss seeing me pass and wave every day. But I did see Thuy crying as she turned away.

Turning the corner from the main alley the morning after my arrival (I arrived at midnight on Sunday night with a meeting the next morning at 8), I see Thuy sitting perched on her fabric as usual, facing my direction. Her eyes widen and begin to tear up as I walk toward her, then she throws her arms around me and hugs me. But here is my surprise: within moments she begins to flail and hit me and say, "I angry you! I angry you!"

I'm so confused...this is certainly not the greeting I expected. Then, "Every day I wait you and remember (miss) you and you never come! You tell me you in America ONE WEEK. You in America EIGHT WEEK! Maggie, why you say ONE WEEK?"

Then Thanh comes out of the house, runs over and hugs me - she doesn't hit me (always the more reserved of the two) - but she also says, "I remember you every day! You say one week!"

Looking back, the fact that Thuy said "See you in one week" proves that this must have been what they thought. But this is a Miscommunication to baffle all other Miscommunications. Saying goodbye was such a big deal. Before leaving, I had gone to Henry, Candle Neighbor, Sweet Seamstress, The Bum Bum, and of course Thuy and Thanh and had shown them on a calendar when we would return. I did my best pantomime and received many nods of understanding. The T Sisters really seemed to know we would be gone for a while, and I know Thuy's sense of humor: she is quick and witty and transcends language with it and I thought this was her way to lighten a heavy moment. Apparently, I don't get it.

She goes on, "Everyone ask me where you are and I say 'I don't know!' Rice cake lady come and ask me, too!" (Imagine what this does to me.)

The thing I do get about Vietnamese people is this: when in trouble, play the family card. So I say to them, "You don't understand! I tell you I go to see my mother! I stay with my mother and father and family and friends. I tell you eight weeks!"

And at the word 'mother' they both soften. Thuy swallows and gains composure. "Your family is strong?"

"Very strong," I say.

"Your mother happy you with her?"

"Very happy."

And that is that. I am no longer in trouble. I tell them I will come by after work, leave their stand and proceed on a very fun journey through the market. All of my vendors literally perk up and smile and greet me so warmly, full of surprise. They all say something like, "You're back! We are so happy! We thought you were gone forever!" Garlic/Onion Lady and her neighbor, Towel Lady, say the "Hello!" they have been practicing all year. Squid Man smiles his big, silent smile and Banana Lady hops up to grab my hand. Pineapple Lady doesn't grunt or go into seizures today, she just smiles joyfully and points me to Banana Rice Cake with Tapioca Sauce Lady. BRCL just nods and smiles and serves me. Rice Lady, Deep Fried Spring Roll Lady...all of them give me a Red Carpet-like greeting as I buy from them. Ah, so good to be back. And during my trip through the market I keep thinking, "Another year of this! Lucky me."

I get to the new middle school (they separated the middle and high school this year and hired about twelve new staff members and a new principal) and find a new, young, fun, positive staff and am told that three out of my five classes may have no more than ten students. Are my Seattle teacher friends even going to tolerate me?

Returning to the hood later is fun, too. My mom sent me with four dozen chocolate chip cookies and I asked the Vietnamese teacher, Ms. Nga, to write a note that says, "My mother made these for you because you are my friends." I put ten on a plate and go to Sweet Seamstress (whom I hadn't seen in the morning) and she, Lieu and Ut all read the note and laugh and make "delicious" noises when they taste their treat (you don't see chocolate chip cookies here except the gross packaged ones). I do the same for Henry's family, Candle Neighbor's family, and the Bum Bum Girls. (Oh how I love the Bum Bum girls... ) All of them laugh and look so happy when they read the note about my mother making them cookies.

Then I go back to T and T's to give them their special gifts. They welcome me by setting up a table in the middle of their tiny home and as their mother and father watch on the periphery (it's a very small table), they open tea mugs that say "Seattle," smoked salmon (they haven't ever tasted salmon, it's not sold in the markets here), my parents' homemade raspberry jam, rosemary crackers, a lime juicer (after I give a demonstration Thuy's eyes widen with wonder and she keeps saying, "Vietnam doesn't know this!") and bags of American candy for Monkey Boy and Tu. My mom wrapped up a beautiful tea cup and saucer that belonged to her grandmother for T and T's mother, and when I explain the family history of the cup, they are touched. Their father keeps thanking me and inviting me to eat Pho with them, but I am getting so tired, I must decline.

When I leave, Thuy puts her hand to her heart and says, "Your family is my family." Oh, and many of you might not know this, but my mom, dad and sister's whole family will come for Christmas at the Castle. Thuy and Thanh are beside themselves with excitement over this news.
I know you are wondering about Nam. Well, my new school is far away and I had never been there, so I grab a taxi on the small street for my first day (he hangs out on the busy street). I want to figure out what I am going to do about My Mother after I have had a day or two because I'm sure he will stress me out in my jet-lagged state. But I see him as we pass - he is looking off in another direction. My heart softens. He looks older. I think I will ask him for a ride this morning (I am writing this at 4 am) and bring him the Seattle Firefighter Chief hat from Ms. Sue. He will love that.

This will sound redundant, but it's good to be back. K and I already logged two hours in the hammocks on the roof from midnight til two the night I got home (Tarn won't be with us this year so we are searching for a castlemate), and you already know that when I am in my hammock on my roof in Saigon, life cannot be any better. (Until I taste my rice cakes Saturday morning.)

Hen Gap Lai

Sorry to leave you with (as AmyT says) Nam's long, drunk finger pointing at me for so long, that was not meant to be the end post for the year. I admit, I've been struggling with how to end Viet Nam: Sweet Sour Salty Spicy Crunchy, Part One.

Before I attempt an ending - and before I get on a plane to Seattle in under eight hours - here are Posts That Should Have Been since June 4:

1. Cecilie's "Day" with Nam: She held on for her life - around his waist - on her ten minute ride down to Ben Thanh Market. He tried to show her how "Marrie" put her hands on her lap (which you know is not true because I always held on to the back of the seat, so he was actually telling her how "Marrie" should have been riding with him all along), but by then the ride was over. His directions were to drop her off at the market, then pick her up four hours later about a half kilometer away at the Opera House. Instead, he thought he was supposed to wait outside the market for her. So he waited, and he waited. After four hours he began to have multiple people call me to tell me that my friend was taking a really long time in the market... no matter who or how I explained things to him, lines were crossed for the rest of the day. So Cecilie's Day with Nam turned into Cecilie's Ten Minutes with Nam. She ran into him later and she paid him for the day anyway, in (of course) a hilarious interaction. I can only imagine the stories he had for his friends on the street.

2. Our shopping days in what I will forever refer to as "Hoi An: The Clothes and Shoe Making Playground." We had a lot of fun. Cecilie had beautiful clothes made by a gentle seamstress. I had OK clothes made by a witch who told me I needed different fabric to cover my "big bum." But, yeah, Cecilie's clothes are beautiful. Hoi An is cute cute cute...by the river, lit by lanterns at night. We spent the days with a friend who was staying at a resort on China Beach. Nice. Here she is pictured in the most casual wear she had made.

3. Our tour through Halong Bay: Absolutely breathtaking scenery (pictured above)...three days, two nights - one night on the boat (we were allowed many dips in the water during the day), one night on a private island where we stayed in cabins on the beach with two fantastic Dutch people and one fantastic Welsh guy. We had dinner with our toes in the sand on a table covered with red roses and a white tablecloth. (I know what you are thinking and I agree: it's not fair that I have been on two private islands within just a few months...)

4. When Cecilie Disgraced Her People: We didn't know about the hike on Monkey Island (neither of us read the details about the Halong Bay Cruise). We had a choice between a hike and a biking trip, but Cecilie is Norwegian and Norwegians hike, even if they are wearing black flats with bows, they HIKE! She made it to the top before the rest of us in her black-bowed flats, like a proper Norwegian should, but she kept saying "I'm such a disgrace to my people!"

5. The Hottest City Ever: If I had three wishes, I would use one of them to wish that the whole world could have mild temperatures like Seattle - not as much rain, of course - but just nice, easy temperatures, I would be a very happy traveling person. Yesterday in Hanoi it reached 43 degrees Celsius, which is 109 Fahrenheit. The humidity was about 60 percent. We walked outside and dripped (and I swore). I asked my parents this morning if people would find it strange to see someone just lying in their green grass for days on end, through rainy and cloudy weather. My mom said it would be OK for me to do that.

We saw Water Puppets, we walked around town, we stood in a very hot line for over an hour to see Ho Chi Minh's preserved body (surrounded by guards holding bayonets) in the mausoleum...we tried to have a good time. Cecilie is a better sport than I am. I was too hot and therefore was wishing her another traveling partner (I wouldn't want to be with me when I am that hot).

6. The Frogs: I thought I had seen it all in my market. But on her first walk-around with me, Cecilie pointed to a bucket. In the bucket was something so horrible, so unrecognizable, something so Satanic...they were frogs, but they were headless AND skinless AND they were STILL hopping around. Like chickens do (when their heads are cut off) supposedly.

Now. Get that image out of your mind and read the rest.

We returned yesterday and I put Cecilie in a taxi to the airport a few hours ago.

Then I had to face saying goodbye to my neighborhood.

1. I ate Pho at my favorite stand, right around the corner from the castle. What DO they put in their broth??

2. I went to Sweet Seamstress' and showed her on the calendar when I was coming back and got the same hug that has made me feel so gigantic all year from this tiny woman. Lieu and Ut also joined in on the hugging, which is not so natural for Vietnamese people (or for me).

3. I had my hair washed at the Bum Bum and told the girl who speaks the best English that I would be away for a few months. When I was done there, they all stood at the door and waved goodbye.

4. I stopped by Henry's and told him goodbye for a few months. God only knows how many bills they will have to pay for us while we are gone (we are coming back to rent the castle again, which is ANOTHER long post, maybe someday). I said goodbye to Laughing Grandpa and his Laughing Granddaughter - and the whole rest of the family.

5. Thuy came home early from a date to say goodbye. When I got to their house, she said that she didn't want me to be alone tonight, and that she and Thanh decided they should sleep with me. It was hard to turn that one down, but I had to. Such loyal friends (or sisters, as they would say...). All Thuy could manage was "See you next week" - she doesn't get too sappy - but Thanh hugged me and told me how much she was going to miss seeing me pass and wave every day. But I did see Thuy crying as she turned away.

5. My Mother...he was nowhere in sight today. Perhaps he will show up outside the castle at 3 am when I am catching my taxi?

I walked home to the castle feeling very glad that I was saying goodbye for just a few months. I guess that is validation that it's right to return to this hot, wonderful, headless frog, gentle-people-filled, cockroach and ant infested, opportunity-rich place.

And then, then...what do you think I did? I went to the roof, of course (you guessed right). I took four sticks of incense: one for me, one for my family and one for the world - just like the T Sisters taught me, but I took one extra. I waved them in the direction that T, T and I always do and said my prayers of thanks, but I added this:

"Thank you, Viet Nam, for everything. Hen Gap Lai (see you again)."

And as for all of you loyal readers, thanks for keeping me company. I have had so much fun sharing this year with you~

No Blog Game Thursday: Endurance

“Marjie! Your driver is here!” (Add thick contempt to the word “driver.”) Katherine is yelling up the stairs to me in my Rapunzel Room. Later, she tells me she could smell alcohol when Nam came in the door with his nephew.

I’m in the middle of getting ready for a good-bye party and the last thing I want to do is descend four flights of stairs to talk to Nam. But I do. He's really drunk. Minh looks really uncomfortable.

The thing is, I told Katherine when I got home that there would be a scene with Nam. “He wasn’t there to pick me up at five. There will be a scene.” I know this man.

So here we are. Nam is making the low growling/moaning sounds he made the last time he was drunk at the castle, sad about never seeing me again. At least he is not on the floor this time. He picks up a wicker fan and starts fanning close to my face. He tells Minh to tell me that he was there at 5:10. Why didn’t I wait for him?

“I had to come home to get ready,” I say, pushing the annoying fan away, knowing the conversation will go nowhere. Nam accuses me of lying when I say I waited ten minutes. He points his long finger at me and says, “No!” You know what? He's right. I didn't wait. He knows me, too.

Then he tells me I need to learn Vietnamese so I can communicate with him better. “You’re in Vietnam. Learn Vietnamese!” He makes a defiant gesture with his hand, pointing to the ground. (Later, K says “No, Nam, that’s the exact reason she doesn’t learn Vietnamese, because if she did, she wouldn’t like you at all!”)

“He’s really drunk,” I say to Minh. “You should take him home.” He's only had over an hour to drink since he was supposed to pick me up, so it must have been quick and heavy. As far as I know, he hasn't been drunk on a pick-up yet.

“I know. I’m sorry. My uncle…”

Then Nam starts accusing me of other things. Like that I’m late a lot. And that I am not consistent. That I need to tell him pick-up times more clearly. And that I need to wait for him if he is late. I’ve been taking taxis home for the past two weeks, so the first time I have asked for a ride in the evening in a long time, he blew it.

To summarize, I do everything wrong and he is there to point it out for me. Sound like any relationships you know? Yeah, and they're married, right?

I ask Minh again to lead him out of the house. I try to connect with Minh on something else- because he is so sweet- like the fact that Nam told me that his mother is walking a little bit. “I’m glad your grandmother is doing better,” I say. He thanks me and tries to push Nam out. It’s a difficult task.

This morning, Nam salutes me when I get out to the street. He doesn’t look sheepish or anything. In fact, when he sees my breakfast of glutinous rice cakes topped with custard, he just says, “No!” He really prefers to expedite my food; as you know, I usually hide my purchases in my bag. But I admit it... I leave it out today just to get a reaction - because I am into self-torture.

I’m tired of Nam. I’m tired of sweating all the time. Tired of ants and cockroaches and motorbikes. I’m so tired that I have no blog game for this Thursday. Wrapping things up at school is always exhausting.

But here’s something not-exhausting: I was voted “Middle School Teacher of the Year” by the student body. What an honor. I have to give a speech at the closing ceremonies - not my favorite thing - but at least most of the audience will not understand me anyway. I am very touched to get this recognition from the students I have enjoyed so much this year.

Another thing not-exhausting: Cecilie from Norway will arrive next Thursday for what will surely be a week of fine shopping as well as fine viewing: we are going to Hoi An, the clothes-making capital, and to Halong Bay - which I hear has the most beautiful scenery in Viet Nam. Actually, that does seem a little bit exhausting, but in a fun-exhausting way.

So, yes, I can endure the ants, cockroaches, motorbikes and heat for a few more weeks. As for Nam...well, I think I should at least stop talking to Katherine about him, because she definitely can't endure him. Could you?

Finally: Shadow Dancing!

*I was finally able to load some of the shadow dance...be sure to check it out at the end of this post.

This is Henry from 6D: last weekend he was not Henry, he was "The Great, the Wise, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz." He started out pretty quiet in that role, but by closing night he had transformed into the Wizard - very Wonderful and Powerful and everything.

So today in Ancient we are about to read the very last paragraph of the text (that's right, we made it through six civilizations by the last week of the year...) and I say to the kids, "I want someone to read this with a really big voice. It's the last paragraph of our book. Who wants to try?"

About seven kids volunteer, so I have them read the first sentence as a try out - something about the "Fall of Rome." After five kids read rather flatly (and I say "no, no, no!") I say to Henry, "Henry, read this in the voice of The Wizard!"

And without any hesitation, he begins reading about the Fall of Rome, accessing the same voice he had on closing night. The class goes wild. At the last sentence, he stands up and uses hand gestures. Next, in his Wizardly Frenzy, he throws his Ancient World textbook on the floor and stomps on it amid the cheering of his peers.Now I know that books are sacred and everything, but the whole scene is funny, so I just say to him, "WIZARD! What would Scarecrow say? (or WWSS?)" And he actually gets a really funny, guilty look on his face.

Henry was also responsible for the best blooper of the night... for weeks, when he was supposed to say "University of Omaha" - he just couldn't get it right. He kept saying "University of Obama" - Obama being a much more familiar word to him. Both opening night and the next he said it correctly, but not without a little hesitation. Saturday night, though, he said "University of...of...Obama." The crowd loved it and he has heard about it all day from the kids. He was Tarn's favorite character.

Another: we had to fire Toto a week before the performance because he wasn't taking rehearsals seriously. On dress rehearsal Saturday he didn't show up at all. Ryan from my 6E class happened to be there just to hang out with his friends. A natural actor, I asked him if he would like to be Toto. "Let me think about it for five minutes," he said. Five minutes later, he was on stage. He mastered the tongue sticking out and panting and following Dorothy around very quickly, but the former Toto is the smallest kid in school. So Alice cut the dog body in half and Ryan just wore the bottoms and the head. What happened, then, was that every time he turned around, the audience would laugh at his pants that hardly fit and at his black and white checkered boxers. At one point on Saturday night, he lost his dog pants completely. Paula, who also helped with the play and who also has Ryan in class, and I were laughing ourselves silly over Ryan's every movement during every performance.

What I didn't mention in my other comments on the play: opening night was a sort of disaster. The main problem was the audience...TERRIBLE. I didn't know that Vietnamese audiences have such a bad reputation. They talked through the whole thing. They didn't clap at the right places until Fran and I led them to clap at the right places. The sound technicians missed many of their cues. The lights were off. The kids were great, but off. Everyone went home kind of mopey. Alice said she felt like she had given birth and had a miscarriage.

Friday night, though, was amazing, as was Saturday. The crowd was older and smarter. The kids were ON. Alice had a very healthy baby. In this picture with Alice is Gink: Gink is just one of Alice's healthy babies. Gink played the piano and did an amazing job. What a talent. OK, SeattlePam, there are your pictures...finally! (The extremely good ones were taken by Tarn, of course!)

(Mungo and Karyn, you must provide an acting blooper story...)

As for the shadow dancing, remember that it was juxtaposed against the colorful front world of Dorothy and the Munchkins and it showed the world of the King of Darkness and his slaves (slaves are equivalent to the monkeys in the movie)~ All of the choreography for the shadow was done by Alice, but Alice had one of her hip hop dancers, Adrian, choreograph the munchkins' dances. I will include one of my favorite parts.