Teaching at the Cambridge Language School last Thursday was rough. I planned lessons out of the wrong books, and I didn't even have one of the books in my possession. I taught on the fly in all four of the classes, but I guess it could have gone worse. I also taught on Saturday morning for the first time. I initially thought it would be hard waking up earlier than I do during the week, but I was no less energetic than the evening shifts. I actually had the right lesson plans this time, and the kids were super enthusiastic about learning. In the last class, the lesson was about "bigger-smaller," "stronger-weaker," and "taller-shorter." To illustrate "stronger-weaker," I conducted an arm wrestling tournament for the students. After each round, one student in each pair had to say "I am stronger than him/her," "S/He is stronger than me," "I am weaker than him/her," or "S/He is weaker than me." The kids had a blast, the teacher was entertained, and I was excited to crown a girl the class arm wrestling champ.

I spent the next couple hours just walking around the city and window shopping. I walked into a boutique with cute clothes. Everything in the store was either solid, floral, or patterned, but there was nothing with writing on it. As I was going through the last rack of shirts, I was baffled when I saw a gray, loose-fitting T-shirt with "MINNESOTA" written in black. I told the girl working that that's where I'm from, and she laughed. She said the designer is actually her boss, and she's from Korea. I had to try it on, but unfortunately I didn't like the way it looked. If it was less expensive, I might have bought it just for the fun of it, though.

Later in the day, I went to the War Remnants/Evidence Museum, but I didn't give myself enough time. It was incredibly powerful to see pictures and other documentation from the war. I was overcome with emotion, and I was glad I was alone so nobody would hear my American English. Although I haven't really sensed any animosity stemming from the events from 40 years ago, it was not a time when I was proud to be an American, to say the least. There was a lot that I learned about the "ecocide" that the US Government committed; wiping out entire ecosystems and contaminating the water and air beyond repairable in a single generation. In addition, it was tough looking at the deformities caused by Agent Orange, and the effects of recently set off land mines that were not set off or recovered following the war. I was only able to look around the first floor before the museum closed, so I'll have to come back another time.

Sunday, I went to a yoga class taught by someone who has a connection to Minneapolis. It was good to finally meet her after a number of e-mail exchanges and of course, start my day with some yoga. I went to a specialty food store next door after the class, and an older man rambled on about Sai Gon for about 15 minutes. He's initially from Korea, lived in the US for 30 years, and has lived in Viet Nam for the past decade. He told me about the restaurant he was going to on Monday morning to watch the Vikings-Packers game and assured me he would be rooting for the Vikings. The man was so entertaining to listen to, but was suggesting far too many places and restaurants for me to visit than I could have possibly retained. Needless to say, I left the store chuckling to myself.

I went to play pick-up ultimate later that afternoon, and I was happy to find that my bum toe wasn't the impediment I thought it would be. I'm sure the adrenaline rush that came from just being able to play helped, too. The rain held off this time, and it was fun to see everyone after a two-week hiatus. An American couple from Idaho showed up to play, and it was the girl's first time seeing the game. I explained the rules, etc. to her, and we inevitably talked about life in general as well. Her and her fiance had spent the previous year teaching English in the Dominican Republic and moved to Viet Nam about a week ago to do the same. There was also a new guy from Mexico and a few other Vietnamese guys who had just returned from the States and Australia. I, of course, was on cloud nine as we played until we couldn't see the disc in the dark.

As the weekend went on, that imminent cold began to take hold of me and by Monday I was sick. In addition, my terrible itch was back after finishing the week-long prescription of anti-histamines. I went to a doctor at one of the international clinics Monday morning because the first doctor I saw said he would be on vacation this week. I got some more drugs and am feeling significantly better. Plus, having Traci's mom here adds a mother's touch.

The energy at the orphanage this week has been high because the kids have been trying to have as much fun with Traci before she's done. Today was her last day at Thien Phuoc, but her mom and her don't depart for the States for another few weeks. Lauren and Sandy (Australians) brought materials for oragami today, which the kids loved. Although they couldn't do much on their own, I had Tai and Nhi help me press down the folds that I had started, and they were proud of the finished products.

Yesterday was Dieu's (pronounced you) birthday, so Traci and I went to her older sister's apartment for dinner and cake. Her sisters were hysterical, and the meal was beautiful. It was fun to meet Dieu's siblings, nephew, and a couple of her friends, and celebrate her 20th in true Vietnamese fashion. They were all so warm and welcoming, as expected, and wouldn't take, "I'm so full!" as an excuse to stop eating.

Although there are Halloween costume shops and decorations around HCMC, the Sunflower Festival will take precedence next Sunday. I don't know much about it, but we made sunflowers with the kids at the hospital today. They turned out super cute, and all the kids wrote a wish in the middle of the flower as well. The mood turned somber, though, as the news that one kid passed away traveled throughout the floor. As I walked down the hall, I saw the mother standing over the child who was covered in blankets. The room across the hall was packed with two room-fulls of people, and the kids seemed puzzled about their own feelings on the matter. Apparently, two other kids passed away over the weekend. This was the first time that the fact that cancer is paralyzing and in some cases overpowering the lives of these children became real to me. They seem so strong and beautiful when they're in the play room, so it's hard to imagine that their internal strength and beauty as anything different.

A bunch of Traci's aunts, cousins, and mom's friends planned a trip to Nha Trang and Da Lat for this weekend and kindly invited me to come along. We'll leave early Friday morning in a 15-passenger van and come back late Monday night. Traci was not informed of any other details about the trip other than not to worry about it. Regardless of what we do, I'm excited to see how gorgeous these places actually are. When asking the students in one of my classes last Thursday what the most beautiful, cleanest, most interesting, most popular, etc. places in Viet Nam were, practicing the use of superlatives, Nha Trang and Da Lat were the top responses.

The Girl Who Played with Kids

My week has been filled with kids, of course, and following the adventures of Lisbeth Salander and Mikael Blomkvist. While I miss being in school in many respects, I love having time to read for pleasure. I'm finally catching up on the Steig Larsson series, and I can't put the second one down. I made headway on Wednesday evening when I just chilled and read at a cafe in District 1 with a yummy avocado smoothie.

Thien Phuoc
Sickness was rampant throughout the orphanage this week. Last week the physical therapist was sick, then Traci was hit over the weekend, and each day there was at least two kids with a cough, fever, runny nose, or all of the above. We've stocked our fridge with orange juice, and I'm trying to stay healthy despite my constant close interactions with the kids. Just when I thought I had made it through the week unaffected, my throat got a little sore and my nose started on a light jog last night. Hopefully Traci's mom, who just arrived here last night, will have some Vietnamese home remedies to help me ward off this impending cold.

As I've developed stronger relationships with the kids, I've been able to understand them better as well. I had a difficult time communicating with them at first because I didn't speak the language and many of them can barely speak. However, they are no less expressive than those who use words to convey their emotions, wants, and needs.

Last Wednesday, Lauren, one of the Australian women that visits every week, broughtt a basketball hoop. It's always fun doing something different than the usual routine, and the kids are always looking for an excuse to get their leg braces off early.

The Three Musketeers
Nguyen (Win) just came back to the orphanage at the end of last week. Apparently, he had taken a bad fall the day that I arrived in Viet Nam. There was talk of him breaking or fracturing his C2 vertebrate, but I'm still not sure if that was the case. Regardless, he is significantly more limited than before the fall: he can't walk or move his left arm on his own, he doesn't have much strength in his neck and thus has a hard time keeping his head straight, he has difficulty getting sound out when he tries to speak, and he has a hard time swallowing his porridge when being fed.

Tai is such a cutie. Traci tells him how handsome he is now that he's lost his two front teeth, and I can't help but smile every time I look at him. His PT consists of standing, strapped into one of the standing boards, and having his limbs stretched and moved by the physical therapist on a mat as well. He speaks minimally, too, but he's the jokester of the crew.

Thun can't do much on his own either, and to me, it sounds like he's always just moaning and groaning. Traci can decipher his sounds, though, and will tell me what he's trying to say. He's probably the laziest of all the kids in the PT room. He does his pulley movements a few times and then will slump down and choose to just sit against the wall instead.


All three boys are seven, I believe, and they are incredible to each other. When I help bring the kids in the nap room, Tai will point to the cots in which he, Nguyen, and Thun belong and gets upset if they're not placed next to one another with him in the middle. Furthermore, they need to be next to each other during lunch time as well. Even though they can't do much with their arms and hands, they show each other affection with gentle, albeit fairly uncontrolled, touches. What warms my heart the most is when one of them get a treat of some sort and they insist on sharing it with the others, including the last bite.

Benh Vien Gia Dinh
Although I adore the kids that I color pictures with at the hospital, I end up spending a lot of the time talking to other Vietnamese volunteers who want to practice their English. They teach me a few Vietnamese words, too, so I can actually talk to the kids. Often I find myself using sign language instead of normal gestures, which can actually be more confusing sometimes. I also will translate what I want to say in Hebrew and Spanish, if it's a simple statement, until I realize those those languages are of no use here.

I noticed that one of my favorite boys wasn't in the play room last week, but as I was leaving, I saw that he was on a mat in the hallway, getting an IV. I spoke with his grandma with the few phrases of Vietnamese I know, and like many people I talk to, she wondered with a bewildered look why I decided to come here. It wasn't long before the boy motioned for me to get my camera back out and conduct another photo shoot. Although he was more subdued than the week before, his smile was just as sweet.

In Other News...
I moved into Bob's old room because he went back home to Phoenix last week. Although it's up another flight of stairs, it has a bathroom connected to it, which makes life easier. I was excited to finally put my pictures up as well.

One Month Down; An Assortment of Alliterations

Motorbike Monday
Riding the bus here takes quite a lot of energy and focus as Traci and I realized further last Monday. When we got on the second bus we take to get to the orphanage, we told the bus tender what stop we wanted to get off at because the bus was too packed to be able to see for ourselves. The guy was quite a comedian and was entertained by the fact that Traci could speak and understand Vietnamese. However, while he was charming us, he failed to let us know that our stop had passed. When we started going over a big, unfamiliar bridge, Traci and I looked at each other and realized we were way too far. We got off at the next stop, and while the bus tender misled us in believing he would notify us when our stop was, he yelled, "watch out, pretty ladies coming through (in Vietnamese)" as we exited the bus.

There was no intersection in sight, so we resorted to taking a motorbike taxi. The two of us hopped on a bike and agreed on a price for the guy to take us to the orphanage. However, he misheard Traci and stopped at this gorgeous gated community in the middle of a flooded, garbage-filled neighborhood. We called Dao, the head of ELI here, and she told the driver what we apparently failed in communicating. As we walked through the gate of the orphanage laughing, the kids were a little puzzled as to why we were so giddy. Per usual, however, Hiep, the little boy with Down's, ran to give us hugs and take our shoes to our locker. We doubted where we were being taken for a short period of time, but it was a fun adventure nevertheless.

Bus Buddies
I probably spend a minimum of two hours on the bus everyday and sometimes up to five or six depending on traffic. Most of the time it's just okay, during rush hour it's miserable, and a few of the rides have actually been great. A few Fridays ago, I hopped on a super packed bus and made my way to the front so I could see where I needed to get off. A French guy was sitting no more than a half of a centimeter away from me and struck up conversation. He just began his retirement in Viet Nam a few months ago because his wife is from here. Moreover, he knew he didn't want to live under Sarkozy's government any longer. Socialism doesn't seem to be working wonders over here, but this guy prefers it. I wish I could remember his exact title, but he was what sounded like the chief occupational therapist/psychologist for most of the top French government officials. He has been visiting Saigon about once a year for the past 15-20 years, so it was interesting to hear what he had to say about how the city has changed over the years. The major differences, he said, are that there's more trash on the street, more motorbikes on the road, and more chub on the kids every year.

I rode the bus home from District 1 this past Friday, which is about an hour or so ride. I sat down on the front seat next to a boy in a school uniform and pulled out my book to read to pass the time. I noticed through my peripheral vision that he was glancing at my pages every so often. Finally, he worked up the courage to tell me that English is his favorite subject at school, but he never gets to practice speaking it because there's no one to speak it with around here. I ended up learning more Vietnamase than he learned English during the 20 minute bus lesson, but I think he was glad to just converse with a native English speaker.

Right as he got off the bus, I heard a familiar girl's voice say my name. Dieu, a girl who had befriended an ELI volunteer a few months back and has been sort of passed down through the volunteers as a contact since, was on the bus as well. She lives near us, and Traci and I had just met her for coffee the day before! She needed to get her brother a gift for his birthday, so we ended up having a wonderful 8pm shopping date.

Although there is a fairly normal work day, as evidenced by the 6-7am and 4-6pm rush hours, there isn't a real decisive day life and night life. At any given time of the day, there are Vietnamese people working, going to school, on a date on a motorbike, having coffee, and napping. Furthermore, some food stands and shops are only open during the day, and some are only open during the night. There doesn't seem to be very strict hours, so you just have to be flexible when on the prowl for some food or clothes.

Taco Tuesday
Ellen, Traci, & I have made Tuesday night our date night, so last week we went to Gringo's, a Mexican restaurant, for Taco Tuesday. Although I opted for some quesadillas instead of tacos, I definitely took advantage of the 2-for-1 margarita special. As always, it was such a blast hearing about Ellen's students and the craziness of the way her school is run. Our main topic of discussion this week, however, was gay marriage and gay rights in general. Two of Ellen's brothers are gay and one of Traci's sisters is, so we all had a personal connection and stories to contribute. We were talking about coming out stories and family acceptance, or lack thereof. By the time we were on our second margaritas, though, the conversation grew a bit more light-hearted and filled with laughter as well. The owner came to our table and asked where we were from, what we were doing here, etc. He's half-Vietnamese, had lived in San Diego all his life, and just decided to move to HCMC and open up a Tex-Mex restaurant a few years back. He said he was having a big Thanksgiving dinner with only Americans and invited us to come. Traci will be home in Texas by then, but Ellen and I gave him our contact info and got super excited to have a place to go and people to be with on Thanksgiving. Until I got a better offer...

Frisbee in the Philippines
I received an e-mail from Lien, the lead girl in the Saigon Ultimate club, that night inviting me to what sounds like an amazing weekend. The ultimate crew in Manila, Philippines is hosting a big, 3-day tournament November 26-28. The first day is split up into men's and women's teams, and next two days are played mixed (men and women on the same team). Lien had already been in contact with the captains of a women's team and a mixed team and said they'd love to have us play with them. It's a pretty big commitment, time-wise and financially, so most of the players around here aren't willing to make the trip. One of the other girls that was going to go realized it was her graduation weekend, and thus a spot emerged for me to attend. Lien and I will fly out early and stay a day after the tournament to explore Manila a bit as well. While it doesn't look like I'll be having an official Thanksgiving, I'm excited to take advantage of this incredible opportunity.

Doctor Drama
When I went to Vung Tao with the ultimate club a few weeks ago, I got bit by some ants on my feet and ankles. I didn't think much of the continuing itching because it was pretty mild and localized. I bought some over-the-counter anti-histamine and some anti-itch cream. However, last week the itch increased in magnitude considerably. For about two and a half days straight, I spent more time itching than not, and it was worse than what I remember the chicken pox to be. To make matters worse, I jammed my fourth toe into the washing machine Wednesday night when I slipped in the bathroom. It was growing in girth and the bluish-purplish color was spreading up my foot. Although I'm health care professional-bound, this was more than I was equipped to deal with. I got the name of an American doctor from Ellen and went to see him at a clinic Thursday afternoon. As we were exchanging questions and answers, he looked at my forms again and said, "Shira...so are you Jewish?" I told him I was and that I was impressed he knew that, considering his dark complexion and definitively Indian name. He replied by saying that his wife is Jewish, they are Reform, and his sons names are Ari and Eli. He asked what I did for the holidays, and I told him that I was home for Rosh Hashana but arrived in HCMC on Erev Yom Kippur, so my observances were just in my thoughts this year. He chuckled and then proceeded to ask if I had somewhere to go for Passover Seder. I told him I wasn't sure if the holiday is before I depart Viet Nam in the Spring, so he told me that since I'm the "real" Jew, I should find out and let him know because he and his wife would love to have me. Turns out, I'll be having Seder with the family in Minneapolis, but it was an incredibly warm gesture and very much appreciated. Dr. Rangarajan has been here for a couple years and will be here for about three more because he's a "trailing spouse;" his wife works for the UN, so she brought the family out here. One socially-constructed gender stereotype broken down, about a hundred to go. Anyways, he gave me a prescription for a stronger anti-histamine, which has proved helpful, and told me to tape my jammed fourth toe to my third toe. Even if it was broken, there isn't really an effective splint for the little piggy that didn't have any roast beef.

Magnificent Mui Ne
Traci and I spent the weekend at the shores of Mui Ne, but we ended up only spending a couple hours actually on the beach. We rode a tour bus for the 5-hour drive West, and arrived at our cute resort at about 1:30. We stayed in a little guest house with two double beds and a bathroom (left). It was adorable and perfect for Traci and me. At 2pm, we were picked up in a Jeep by our tour guide and the rest of our tour group; two small groups of people from Thailand.

First we walked around a spectacularly-eroded mountain with rich, rust-colored sand and white stalagmite-like projections. We did it all barefoot, which was great, except my severely bruised toe inhibited my speed and strength up the hills of the loose sand. Now that would be a good place to do a hill workout after Bascom gets too easy (Bella). It definitely didn't compare to my limitations after my ankle surgery, but I was a little surprised by the discomfort caused by my little fourth toe.

Next, we stopped at the big fishing port. Mui Ne is known for their fish sauce production, and they often use basket boats, whose appearance is in the name, in addition to normal fishing boats. While it could have been interesting to learn about, our tour guide's accent was too thick to understand and the fish sauce smell was pretty overwhelming to make it all that enjoyable.

My favorite part of the tour was riding around on a 4-wheeler in the white sand dunes. It was just 100,000 Dong ($5) for 15 minutes, and since I missed the opportunity in Namibia two years ago, I couldn't pass this one up. Traci and I were thoroughly enjoying ourselves until we realized we couldn't get out of a bowl we had driven into. A whole new element of fun was added then when an escape route was the end goal. We couldn't find one ourselves in time, so a couple of the local boys came and drove our 4-wheelers out for us. They were nice enough, though, to let us drive them back to the entrance at least.

Lastly, we went to the red sand dunes before dark. There wasn't much of a sunset because it was overcast, but there was a beautiful view of the sea. Cute local kids were running around as well, and Traci brought up how fun it would be to have the dunes for a backyard/playground!

After returning to the resort, we enjoyed a tranquil dinner and then read in our respective beds for a bit before going to sleep. We felt like an old, retired couple, just enjoying our books and each others' company. We headed to the beach Sunday morning after enjoying some fresh fruit juice and omelettes for breakfast. By 10am it was already too hot and we had to check out by 11am. We showered, packed up, and just chilled at the restaurant until our return bus picked us up at about 1pm. All in all it was a great balance of adventure and R&R throughout the two days, considering my walking was impeded and Traci was feeling under the weather. I was thrilled, though, to get back to the kids at the orphanage today. I hope to compile a "team" bio of the kids at Thien Phuoc in the near future...

I thought it would be nice to go without Facebook for six months, but the truth of the matter is that it's a global phenomenon on which certain types of contact depend. Everyone that I meet here asks if I have a FB account, and since I still haven't memorized my Vietnamese cell phone number, I had to get back on.

Weekend of 10-10-10

Orphanage
After a rough start to the week last week, I've had a fun-filled five days. Last Wednesday, a group of about 30 or so Singaporean university freshman came to the orphanage. It was overwhelming at first to have so many people around, and it was hard to keep the kids focused on PT, but it's always great having visitors. Between letting the kids use their cameras and lending them some accessories, there was a bit of spoiling going on. I talked to a few of the students and teachers for a while and learned a little bit about Singapore. This particular group had come to Vietnam on a two week service trip in which they helped build houses in a northern province, and they were visiting the orphanage before heading home the following morning. One of the teachers was telling me that Singapore is primarily made up of Chinese, Indian, and Malay people. Apparently, there have been a lot of Europeans and Australians making the move there lately, though. When I asked one of the teachers, who was originally from Indonesia, if visiting Singapore would be a worthwhile trip to make, she shrugged her shoulders and basically said, "Eh, it's just another big city." Nevertheless, the demographic make-up seems interesting, especially as compared to the fairly homogeneous Vietnamese population. The school also donated a few padded helmets, clothes, and some treats to the kids. In addition to using them as boxing gear, the helmets will be great for the boys who tend to hit their head on the tile floors and walls pretty often like Thuan and Thai.

I only had to do a few sinus rinses at the end of last week, so I wasn't as emotionally drained as when I do the rinses the entire time I spend at the orphanage. Although I'm getting a little more used to it every time, it almost gets worse for the kids. It's hard to see the fear in their eyes and hear them start to cry when they see me coming towards them to bring them downstairs. One girl throws up every time we do it, and another got a bloody nose on Thursday. I don't really see an improvement on a daily basis, but hopefully it's doing good in the long term.

Teaching
On Thursday, Vi, one of the girls who works for ELI (the organization I'm here through), gave me a short Vietnamese lesson, which was fun. Hopefully I'll learn a few phrases every week and be able to actually have a conversation in Vietnamese by the time I leave.

That evening, I went to go teach at the language school in a province, which I'll do every other Thursday and an occasional Saturday. I absolutely love it! I had lesson plans for all four 45-min periods I was scheduled to teach, but I only taught out of the books for two of the classes. The other two were so excited to have an "English language foreigner" in the class that their questions took up the whole periods. My last class was the more advanced level with just seven students ranging from 14-20. As a result of the high level of English proficiency and small class size, we ended up basically having a big conversation. They were asking me questions about life in the US, and I asked them about their lives as well. They were so curious about what I think of Vietnam, and similarities between Vietnamese and American culture.

Everyone here, regardless of age, when asked "How are you?" responds with, "I'm fine, thanks." While that's an adequate response, it seemed a bit awkward to hear that response from one of my classes of enthusiastic 11 and 12-year olds jumping out of their seats. I tried to explain to them that if they have that much energy, they should instead respond with, "I'm great, thanks!" After I exited, re-entered, and greeted the class again and again, they finally understood what I was getting at by my fourth entrance.

A family friend of Traci's came to visit a few weeks ago, and brought with him tons and tons of silly bands. Traci told her mom to send a few packs for the orphanage, but she sent far more than necessary for the kids at Thien Phuoc. Traci generously gave me a few packs to me to bring to the school. I gave each kid either a classic Disney character, Disney princess, or Disney fairy at the end of every class, and they were extremely appreciative but a little puzz. I told them that everyone has them in the US- kids and adults alike- so the teachers, of course, had to have them, too. I'm not quite sure if the younger kids understood my explanation of trading, but I'm sure they'll figure it out.

Hospital
I had a blast at the hospital last week. On Wednesday, we spent the whole time making designs on either square, circle, hexagon, or heart-shaped plates with beads and then ironing them. Does anyone know if there is actually a name for that activity? I thoroughly enjoyed doing ones myself, and it was a good activity to do with the kids wthout the need to talk all that much. Hopefully I'll pick up more Vietnamese words every week so I can communicate with them better. On Friday we just colored, and a few of the kids had fun doing a photo-shoot with my camera (right). The kids there are absolutely gorgeous; it's hard to believe that something so ugly is going through their blood. I can't help but flirt profusely with one of the adorable boys that has been there for the past couple weeks (left).

Night Out!
A fairly eclectic group of us went to dinner on Friday and then out to a couple bars. It was Bob's last night in HCMC, and I had talked to Ellen (the teacher from Wisconsin) about going out, too, so it ended up being Traci, Bob, Ellen, Ellen's "friend" Brian, the fifth grade teacher at Ellen's school, her boyfriend, and me. Although Ellen was the binding thread between us all, she managed to show up about a half an hour after everyone else. While we were waiting at BBQ Garden, we inevitably began asking each other where we were from, what we were doing here, etc. Brian is a pilot who is on a two-year contract with Vietnam Airlines. I kind of felt like I was having dinner with a celebrity because he showed a striking resemblance in personality and demeanor, in addition to his profession, to The Bachelor, Jake Pavelka. Unlike Jake, though, he grew up in the Northwest suburbs of Chicago, about an hour from Milwaukee. When I told him I have family in Chicago, went to school in Madison, and am from Minneapolis, he proceeded to tell me his parents grew up in Minneapolis. His grandma still lives on 11th Ave off of Highway 7 in Hopkins! The dinner itself was cool, too, because it was interactive, which Traci and I love. They brought out skewers of raw meat, seafood, and vegetables, and we cooked them on two small, circular grills in the middle of our table.

After dinner, we headed to the Acoustic Cafe where a cover band played a bunch of Bon Jovi, Jewel, and other random American music. We met up with Kuong, the Australian-English-speaking guy from the frisbee club, who brought us to another bar, Apocalypse Now, after a while. It was filled with foreigners, but there were a lot of locals there as well. Ironically, we ran into Tibor, the Hungarian guy who plays frisbee, and his two friends who came to Vung Tao with us the weekend before! We danced up a storm and had a ton of fun throughout the night.

Can Gio Island
Traci and I got up bright and early Saturday morning to head to Can Gio, or better known as Monkey Island. We went with a tour group of about 15 people, including an older couple from Australia, a Korean-American couple from San Francisco, a few Cambodian guys, and a Korean couple. On the way to the ferry boat, we stopped for some sugarcane juice. It's cool how they push the sugar cane through a roller to extract the juice. I like a few sips of it, but it's too concentrated and sweet to enjoy a whole glass. I had never taken a ferry before, and it was funny to watch the bus, other cars, motorbikes, and people all just pile onto the boat.

Since it was raining, we ate lunch and chilled at a resort before seeing the army base and monkeys. It was incredible to see the army base in the middle of a swamp, basically. We were driven there by motorboat, and every structure was made of rickety branches strung together by whatever plants were strong enough to do the job. I believe the tour guide said about 860-something out of 10,000 soldiers died there throughout the "American War" from crocodiles and malaria alone. Living and fighting in such conditions must have been horrendous, and I can't imagine doing it for so many years either. Their fresh water source was rain, it was probably just as buggy, hot, and muggy, as it was on Saturday, and the water under them was inhabited by crocodiles.

Finally, we got to see the monkeys, and we were able to feed them, too. It was clear that they were used to humans walking through their terrain because they would just run past us or jump over us without really taking notice. When we would hold our food-filled palms open for them, they would timidly approach, making sure they weren't competing against the king monkey. Then, they would use both hands to grab the pieces as fast as possible. They seemed friendly, but our guide told us that they won't cause any harm unless we closed our fists and withdrew the food. Not surprisingly, the mothers were super protective over their young as well. There were a bunch in trees throughout the island, which looked like a real-life version of the book, Caps for Sale. We made our way to the river with crocodiles just chilling, and our tour guide fed them a snake-like fish. He dangled it over the water, and at first it was as if the crocs didn't care. All of a sudden, though, a croc would quickly splash out of the water and get its snack.

After the two hour drive back to HCMC, Traci and I were exhausted and decided to make it an early night. It's great having internet at our house now, so we don't have to go to a coffee shop every time we want to go online.

Reunification/Independence/Norodom Palace
We all like to believe that the US has learned its fair share of lessons from the Vietnam War. However, after hearing the anti-gay remarks made by a candidate for governor and seeing the Nazi uniforms worn and reenactments carried out by a House candidate, I think that tolerance has yet to be learned, internalized, and actively practiced by many Americans, including the people we elect to run our government. War is brutal, yet childhood bullying is as well. Not agreeing with the way others live their lives is one thing, but public condemnation certainly should not be coming from potential congresspeople and governors. Kids have taken their own lives because leaders of this country and actual laws have told them that they didn't have a place in society because the way they were living their lives was wrong. I learned so much at the Reunification Palace about the "War of American Agression," and it's hard to ignore the correlation between the anti-communist sentiments and unnecessary meddling in others' business that fueled that war and some of the rhetoric that is being espoused by many of the Tea Party and other political candidates, as well as circulating throughout the general public, today.

It felt eerie to stand on the roof of the palace, imagining the Liberation (North) tanks plowing through the gates, as illustrated in pictures throughout the museum, preceding President Minh's surrender in 1975. It's clear to see causes A, B, and C for a war or historical event and the corresponding results X, Y, and Z, in hindsight. Why, then, are we so reluctant to see the parallels between current events and cause B, for example, from historical event #5? I'm not saying that a war like the Vietnam War/American War is brewing. We do, however, need to evaluate the values and ideas that are permeating through American society and actively decide who we want making decisions in Washington in order to minimize the practice of intolerance and maximize the exercise of tolerance. In other words, do your research and place an educated vote!

Despite my mixed emotions, I was still able to admire the beauty of the artwork and furniture in the palace and appreciate the preserved integrity of the maps, radios, and other objects from the past. Furthermore, it was interesting to learn about how and why the name of the palace has changed.

The rain greeted us as we exited the palace, but we stuck to our original plan of doing a little souvenir shopping at the big Ben Tanh Market a few blocks away. We sat down at a "restaurant" (plastic tables and chairs under a tent) outside the market for a traditional Vietnamese dinner, and I finally tried Ben Xao (ben say-oh). Traci's family calls it a yellow pancake because it's kind of a mix between an omelette and a crepe. I was excited to try it because it's one of the few things that usually comes vegetarian. Another one of those anomalies is an order of salad rolls, which consist of vegetables and noodles wrapped in rice paper and accompanied by various dipping sauces. Yum!

On our bus ride home, we saw the immediate effects of the downpour: intersections were flooded, water was spilling into shops, and the water level came upto mid-calves of those on motorbikes. As a result, the bus driver took a detour. A guy sitting behind us noticed our puzzled looks and tone, so he asked us where we were going and kindly translated it to the bus tender. We actually got off at the same stop, so in the manner of most English-speaking Vietnamese people we encounter, he asked us what we were doing here. We talked for a bit and exchanged numbers. He is studying finance and business at an international university and was super excited to be able to converse with native English speakers. After we exchanged the classic, "Ok, bye...see you later...we'll be in touch," he flamboyantly squeaked out, "I love English!" right before we parted ways. I turned to Traci and laughed as we came home to end a jam-packed weekend in and around HCMC.

If you're looking for more reading material to occupy your time through your lectures, workday, or free time, here's the link to my roommate, Traci's blog: http://lilmisssaigon.tumblr.com/