Glass half full, glass half full...

Do you recognize this person eating at Pho 2000?


Remember a few posts ago I told you that the motorbikes outside my classroom window sound like a never-ending loud Scriber lawnmower? I long for that lawnmower. Construction on the building right next to my window started on Tuesday. The jackhammer goes all day long. All day long. Every day. The jackhammer operator must eat while he is jackhammering. I can't hear my students and they can only hear me if I yell. By the end of the day...well...

Today I started at 7am and ended at 6:30 pm and didn't get everything done. We have to enter lesson plans into a computer system every single day for every single class; even though I teach only two preps, I have to reenter information five times every day. I must turn in weekly plans to my principal with all copies of work attached (plus student work). Every time we enter a grade for a student we must save that individual grade. I can't read the Vietnamese names of the kids so it takes forever just to find who turned what in. We started clubs today (we are supposed to lead a club after school on Thursdays) and they weren't organized so I made up games for an hour and a half. It's been raining for five days straight. The picture of my toes in my hammock, well, that was the first and last time I have had to enjoy it. It's monsoon season. And the rice cake lady is still MIA. And the ants still crawl up my wall.

Just to set the record straight, not once have I second-guessed being here. I haven't wished to be home (OK, maybe just for two days and then come back). My students are angels. But those of you who know my work style, it's to leave work and have a life. I don't really like to work that much...I mean, I like teaching, but yes I would rather be exploring and eating and...I hope it will get better...it has to get better. I haven't even had time to research a gym yet, so it will be three weeks without exercise...there is nowhere to just walk, let alone run, in this city. Running does not coexist with the motorbikes.

In the words of my mom, "You can do anything for ten months." When I think of her saying that, I try to picture her crossing the street of motorbikes. On the way to school, just before we get there, we have to negotiate a roundabout. Sometimes it takes the taxi ten minutes alone just to get through it, so now I get out and cross it by foot. It saves time and money (the taxi ride doubles sometimes just getting through it) but it just may cost me my life. (That last sentence was not meant to get back at you, Mom.)

After all, I knew it would be chaos, starting this new school and trying to head toward International Baccalaureate and all. The thing is, I don't care about IB. I'm not so into it. And when I'm working so hard I think...what am I doing this for? I have enough good recommendations...

But then things get better and my attitude shifts. Like tonight. Katherine and I discover a new alley in the grid and it seems to be "The Alley of Dreams." Many many rich houses and little restaurants serving fresh seafood. K and I have a date with some scallops tomorrow night, then we are coming home and watching a pirated movie (you can get them for under a dollar). Can't wait. Everything is an effort--everything we want to buy takes a whole trip, and we must ask, "Where is the best place to find a lamp?" "Where is the best place to find a rug?" Then we take a taxi and they let us off at the entrance to the grid and we carry things the rest of the way. In the rain. Oh, the rain. Wow, Seattle.

So, anyway, we find another turmeric rice cake place, a restaurant. They are very good -- they were covered with a rice milk cream or something this time-- and I was very happy with them, only I miss HER. And SHE charges only 6 cents per cake; this guy tonight charges us $2.40 for 8. Those high restaurant prices!! After the cakes, we wander some more and find a fruit juice stand a bit different from the many shake stands and we both order an original combination--I get carrot, orange and apple and it costs only 70 cents.

There are so many things to discover in this city. I know things will get better. Now everything seems insurmountable. Working eleven and a half hours at something I find tedious and meaningless is a thousand times worse with a jackhammer in the background.

So, #1 Fan... (she sent me a personal email, which seems so strange...I don't really know how to talk to her outside of the blog), your perceptions were right on. I am struggling a bit. I guess you can tell when I don't post for two days. Tomorrow is Friday and I am so so so happy. Good night everyone. You wouldn't believe how hard it is raining!

School, not Rice Cakes

I was going to write about the Turmeric Rice Cake Lady and how I think she was just an apparition or an angel because we haven't seen her since that first night we came to look at the castle -- but...everyone is asking me to write about school. I got three emails about that very topic just now.

By the way, my brother signed me up for a blog counter. It has a variety of measurements, but the one that really surprised me: 273 people visited my blog from separate computers last week. I just want to say: 1) who are all of you? and 2.) wow...thanks for stopping by!

Anyway, school. I'm not writing about how worried I am about my Turmeric Rice Cake Lady returning to the alley very soon...I'm writing about school. OK. I teach five sixth grade classes, which means that I teach every single sixth grader in the school. Three classes are Language Arts and two are Ancient History. They are labeled 6A through 6E and travel together through all of their classes. I teach on the fourth floor and the copy room is on the first floor (which, by the way, is not the ground floor). The elevator doesn't work and so I do a lot of running up and down the stairs. The copy machine doesn't work, either, but the copy girl runs all of our requests across the street. I guess this is OK, but we don't have the textbooks in from the states yet and we are supposed to rely on copies until that time. Oh, the internet is very slow and doesn't work half the time, either. But we do have LCD projectors that are hooked to our computers, so I have been using lots of visuals.

Let's see...the schedule is a bit crazy. We teach either four or five hours per day, but have at least two hours for breaks or planning, too, which means I arrive at seven and usually leave at five because Tarn (librarian) and I share a taxi back to the castle. Each week, each class has one block period which means they have one hour long class, a five minute break, then another hour long class. It's hard to get used to. And this morning I completely spaced on the fact that I was starting with a block and had only planned for one hour. So I recalled Amy's comment in the last blog about just playing games and using the language and I faked my way through the second hour with fun fun fun. We reenacted Otzi the Iceman's death: I put sticky notes on the foreheads of volunteers (all boys) and had them fight and stab each other and die. They loved it, and the kids had no idea how lame their teacher was. Maybe they even learned something~ However, I can't do that too much because the school is on the fast track to reach IB (International Baccalaureate) level. We are told to push them as much as we can...that is why this particular principal was hired; he specializes in opening new international IB schools. Here is a shot of my floor: pretty exciting, huh?

Things seem to be running rather smoothly, considering how much change the school has experienced in the last year. Many of the new students were required to attend summer school, so their English is OK. Some are so difficult to understand, though. One in particular, Minh, is so darned cute...the most prominent feature on his face: big teeth with even bigger (dirty) braces. He loves to talk and every time he raises his hand I try so hard to understand what he is saying, but I just can't. It doesn't help that the constant drone of motorbikes outside my window drowns out most of what he says. It sounds like the loud lawnmower that would always visit Scriber at the worst teaching moments, the times that you really just wanted to make a point. Plus, construction on a building started today and poor Minh might as well be a big set of clattering braces for all I can understand.

Sixth grade is interesting. I found that they didn't get my witty sense of humor the first day, so I am adjusting it with some success. Breaking things down to this low level is difficult for me, but I am great at thinking of fun games to play, especially at the last minute. And the kids love to get me to pronounce things. Minh loves to act as a conductor to get me to understand intonations...he sweeps his hands up and down, up and down. When I get it right, the whole class says "YES!" (This happens rarely and I usually cannot repeat it.)

What else? The girls hate sitting by the boys and vice versa, but I made a seating chart doing just that. The girls want to gossip with me and be my friend. The boys are polite but distant. I don't have one discipline problem yet. Like I have said a few times, the kids are cute and eager to learn. I tell you what...if you ask me direct questions about school and details you want to know, I will address them. But right now I am going to go peek around the corner to see if she is there and then I'm going up to my hammock. I will try to get pictures of the kids soon...that's what you will really like!

Good morning to you, good night from me! Isn't it strange that I am saying goodbye to Monday and you don't even know it's Monday yet~

The Good, the Ant and the Ugly (take note Chris Brown)

Part I: The Good

I don't even have time to write about all of the good, but let me start here: Hammocks=Happiness.

I find this hammock on furniture street first thing during our Saturday shopping day, and now all I want to do is sit on my roof. I don't want to go anywhere except for small trips to the alley for food. Maybe I can even blog up there.

We three castle dwellers have a united vision for our rooftop and are rapidly making it happen; last night we had our first guests over and all of them responded the same way..."We want to live here...we should have waited a bit longer to find something like this..." It's cool up there in the evenings...a breeze is something I never felt in China. Here it's hot, but there are periods of respite.

It's hard to stop thinking and writing about the hammock, but here's more good: our alley grid mornings hold the most magnificent markets. Every day we walk past baskets of fresh fish, vegetables, cuts of meat, noodles, bread...and yesterday we discover that the weekend market is ten times bigger and better. I will not spend the time to list all of the things offered, but I will mention a highlight-- I take a favorite brown Gap dress over to my neighbor the seamstress this morning and, just like she said, we walk down the street and choose some material (a lovey purple cotton) and next Saturday she will have my dress replicated. It will cost me $12 total. (Yesterday I did go with Alice and her mother to their seamstress and she is also making me two dresses this week.)

One woman selling coconut cakes speaks good enough English to ask me, "Are you living in the foreigners' house?" "Yes" I say. "You, your husband and your friend?" I clarify that we are three friends. "What are you doing here?" and so on...but this conversation confirms what we already know: the alley grid is a buzz about the Foreigners' House. People are beginning to wave and invite us to sit with them at the little plastic table and chairs in the evenings. We haven't done this yet.

Our castle space works great. When I am in my top chamber, I don't really even know if the other two are home. We do things together a lot, especially now because we are getting the house ready, but today we just debrief our adventures at the end of the day. I love it.

Part II: The Ant (dedicated to Chris)

Chris and I had a big problem with some medium sized army ants (and some very large beetles) on our Costa Rica trip last May and were forever changed by it. That experienced helps me with what happens in my castle chamber the other night. I notice that a string of miniscule ants are crawling up the wall into the corner before I go to bed Friday night and I think, well, I guess it's something I can deal with in the morning. Which is exactly what happens. I deal with hundreds of these miniscule ants in my bed, crawling all over me. What a way to wake up after a rough week. So what about the Costa Rica ants? I'm just grateful that my bed ants did not have ugly wings like those ones did. So I fight a good battle and I think I have conquered them. I'm telling you, living in a castle is rough! (Chris, maybe you can learn how to post a comment for this one??)

Part III: The Ugly

So I haven't seen a rat yet, anywhere, in this city. Friday night I'm walking home and I sense movement around a lovely Buddhist shrine sitting on a lovely balcony. On second take, I see it is a rat's tail, wrapping itself right around Buddha's belly. What a juxtaposition. And here are a few more "uglies" from our walk around Chinatown yesterday: a cart selling "Dogs and Dusters" (your guess is as good as mine) and now just check out these mannequins:

Well, it's Sunday night and I need to plan for tomorrow. Ancient history, Brian, that's where Ozti fits in. You know...how do archeologists put the pieces together... And "Eleven" -- you really want to hear about that? Well, the girl's name is Rachel and she has a problem with a big ugly sweater. My students don't know if Rachel is a boy's name or a girl's name. They don't know what a sweater is. But they are awfully cute. There... how's that? Yeah, so, I have to plan, and all I want to do is to go to my rooftop and swing in the breeze in my hammock...

"...like a tiny o in the sky"

My Language Arts classes are reading "Eleven" by Sandra Cisneros -- a story about a girl who experiences an extremely humiliating day. At the end she says she wants "today to be far away already, far away like a runaway balloon, like a tiny o in the sky, so tiny-tiny you have to close your eyes to see it.

I couldn't say it any better. During my taxi ride home in the monsoon yesterday, I considered telling the driver (who was listening to Metallica and who showed the first sign of road rage in this city that should be showing road rage for every thousand close calls during every drive home) to take me straight to the airport. No one would know what happened to me...I could just disappear like that runaway balloon.

Then I went to bed at seven and slept for ten hours. Today I feel happy. My mood had nothing to do with the students...I really like them. I think I feel this way after every first week of school...like I can't possibly do this job. This week, though, moving into a castle that isn't quite finished and trying to figure out where to start this curriculum with kids whose English levels are all over the place and working from 7 to 4--it's rough. Thank goodness the sixth graders were entertained by my presentation about Otzi the Iceman and "Eleven." More about them later.

I still just want to tell you about my neighborhood and my castle. Tonight we walk outside to find dinner and stop in to see the seamstress two doors down. She doesn't speak any English but through pantomime and writing down many figures, I know that Sweetie's shop over by the hotel is way overpriced-- fortunately I was too busy to go back. My alley seamstress points to a stack of catalogues for Katherine and me and then to one for Tarn. We point at dresses and blouses and skirts and ask how much? She writes figures ranging from $3 for a shirt for Tarn to $8 for a dress for me. I ask her if she can make "anything" and she nods a definite yes. All we do is pick the style and they measure us. Then I point at the material for the clothes hanging on the wall. Where do we find that? Again she nods and grabs my hand and pretends we are going out for a walk. She points down the street. I make a little walking gesture with my fingers...yes, she takes us shopping for the material, brings it back and makes it.

Katherine and I are ecstatic. We want to browse through all of the catalogues, but we are so hungry. We tell her we'll be back SOON and walk down another alley where two guys are making fried chicken and fried rice. One is stir frying a huge wok full of rice and vegetables; the other is tending a portable deep fryer. The chicken looks great, so I place an order. And...let me think about this for one second...yes, it is in the top five best fried chicken pieces I've ever had. Juicy on the inside with just enough crispy exterior. This meal cost $1.20.

Katherine and I also find a noodle soup guy on the main street that connects to our alley. He is Chinese and has three kinds of hand-cut noodles and a stack of wontons on his cart. You pick the noodles and he drops them into broth to boil them. His pork is carefully sliced without a trace of fat. His partner stands next to the cart to collect money. He is also Chinese, and he speaks enough English to let us know that here, at his cart, he will charge us only $15,000 dong (90 cents) but that most places would charge tourists so much more than that. He is a talker and distracts me from watching the soup man. OH. Is it tasty.

I haven't even mentioned the ubiquitous Bahn Mi stands. Bahn Mi are Vietnamese sandwiches that come with all kinds of veges and your choice of meat. In Seattle's International District (go to either Seattle Deli or Saigon Deli, both off of 12th and Jackson--little Vietnam), you can get tofu or pork or chicken with cucumber, daikon, cilantro, peppers. The stands here, three to a corner in some cases, serve the sandwiches with the above mentioned options plus pate, fried eggs and crispy onions. This morning I find the best one yet, just a few blocks from our alley (our neighborhood is on a grid of five wide alleys and five narrow alleys) and have a shredded chicken sandwich made for lunch (about fifty cents).

AND...almost every day I get an avocado shake at the corner (60 cents). You've got to try one!

Tomorrow the three of us are going shopping to make our castle somewhat cozy. Priorities: deck hammocks, deck plants, a deck strobe light, speakers (for my DJ's), pillows, floor mats, Chinese lanterns, pans. We are very excited...we think we might go to Chinatown and get rides on "Cyclos" --kind of like pedicabs (And here is another view from the deck- the other way). We have so much to buy. Also, Alice and her mother are going to take me to their seamstress, who is also in District One. Alice's mother is a very classy French woman and I can't believe my luck that she is sharing her seamstress with me~

I told you I would write more about school, but, well, I'm tired. Maybe tomorrow?

"Hello Teacha"

Move in yesterday, first day of school today, chaos, chaos, chaos...as I write one man installs a countertop gas stove, another installs wireless (I guess it's working) and another installs hot water heaters (no hot water this morning). Nothing is working quite right, but each of them says it will all work "tomorrow." That's a word everyone knows well.

The kids are cute (the girls pictured are not my students...they are from my alley and the flags in the background are from National Day-yesterday). AIS students wear a yellow and blue uniform...they come in and say "Hello teacha" and give a little bow. They are smart in knowing things, but need lots of work on pronunciation (they don't get consonants) and writing. Thanks to Amy and Karrie, I just did "Get to Know You Bingo" and a PowerPoint on Seattle, etc. The day was good. Wow it's a long one, though - 8 to 4 and 8 to 5 Thursdays. Sixth graders. Holy cow- the energy.

What I really want to write about is my castle. I love it. But I don't have the energy to write about anything, so tonight I am only going to share pictures from the roof (from five stories up):

and around my neighborhood. Here's an example of the stacked houses:

And here is our local temple:

Did I mention that sixth graders have a lot of energy?

Tamarind Tree

Does reading my sister's blog make you as hungry as it does me? Do you wish you could be a Vietnamese Food Olympian too? If you live in the greater Seattle area and want to try Marjie's favorite Vietnamese restaurant (and trust me; Marjie would know!) you can find the Tamarind Tree here:


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I Now Live in a Romeo and Juliet House on Turmeric Rice Cake Alley

As we enter the door, Katherine, Tarn and I share the instant feeling that we have found our home: above the kitchen is a rounded balcony with a pink curtain. Juliet should be on it, or Rapunzel...or someone singing Karaoke.

Isn't that the way it should be, when you just know? I haven't written too much about our search for a place to live, but it has been filled with disappointment and despair. We are down to the wire, school starts Wednesday and suddenly, we see the balcony with the pink curtain.

The curtain hides a little "room." This will be your guest room if you come to visit. But be aware, Tarn can't keep away from the balcony. As we explore the house, we keep saying, where is Tarn? And he is always standing in front of the pink curtain.

It's a five story colonial style house...so many houses here are built straight up, in narrow Lego stacks. The bottom floor holds a kitchen and a bathroom, floor two holds only the pink balcony, floor three houses two bedrooms, a bathroom and a long outdoor balcony, floor four houses my room, a bathroom and an outside deck. To get to floor five you must climb a ladder, but floor five is the best: it's a rooftop deck with a bar table.

I feel the same as I did when my sister, dad and I were buying the '66 Mustang in 1981: I know I'm supposed to contain my excitement, but can't. We make an arrangement to sign a contract for the following night (tonight) and both Katherine and Tarn confess to me today that they have secret desires to be DJ's, and they see the house as a good vehicle for practice in party hosting. I tell them that one will be assigned to DJ on the Pink Balcony and one will get to DJ on the roof. I hope we have enough people coming to our parties for both of them to get work. I couldn't ask for two better roommates; I mean, I didn't even want roommates and I couldn't be happier with these two. They are so laid back and fun.

Tonight we go early to check out our neighborhood a bit before signing, and it's just as cool as we thought: it's off the main road at the end of a long alley -- the neighborhood is probably about five long alleys with many winding twists and turns. Our street hosts a salon called "Bum Bum Salon" as well as many seamstress shops. We see on the map that a market is nearby.

So we are wandering through the narrow alleyways with all of these tall colonial stacked houses and suddenly I have to suck in my breath-- before me, just sitting there in an alley one block from my new home, is a woman cooking turmeric rice cakes in a cast iron pan with twelve slots. I hit Katherine. "SHE'S MAKING TURMERIC RICE CAKES!" Tarn and Katherine have no idea what I'm talking about. Turmeric rice cakes are the best item on the menu at the Tamarind Tree, in my opinion. Sometimes I order a plate all to myself. The cakes come with a shrimp on top, then you wrap them up in lettuce leaves with basil and cilantro, pour sauce on top and stick the whole thing into your mouth, dealing with so many flavors at once.

"HOW do you know about these?" Katherine is incredulous, and I feel so proud, like the Olympic athlete of Vietnamese food. I feel I've been training all of these years for this one moment in this one alley in Ho Chi Minh City. We order two cakes each and they cost $1,000 Dong a piece, or six cents. The woman is happy to sell us her cakes and she fills our to-go bag with lettuce, basil, cilantro and sauce. We take them to a nearby outdoor restaurant and eat them as appetizers before a meal that costs us 90 cents. The whole meal is delicious, but the rice cakes are amazing.

We meet our real estate person, Linh, and the owners of the house at seven. Both of them ride motorbikes to meet us and park them in the front room. The couple doesn't speak any English, but their two children are being educated in the States. Going over the contract takes two hours with lots of interpretation. The house is furnished, but not all the way, so the couple will go shopping for one more bed, one more water heater, etc, and we can move in tomorrow night.

It's a ten month contract. It's in a very very cool neighborhood about a ten minute taxi ride from school. And a woman makes turmeric rice cakes in my alley for six cents a piece. I just feel so happy...

Oh, and here are some names on my sixth grade roster: Lucky, Mickey, Pink and Mirror. One seventh grader is named Fire. A note of concern: Cynthia is in the hospital with very swollen legs and feet. They are keeping her there for three days for tests. She will not get to see her first graders on the first day.

I'm wondering: who will be my first guest in the Romeo and Juliet guest room? Thespian friends, how can you NOT come to Vietnam now? Just FYI, be ready to recite a monologue!