HAPPY HALLOWEEN =)

Alright, so I might be a little late, since it's officially Nov. 1 here, but for y'all, it's still Hallow's Eve time.

I missed out on trick or treating for the 2nd time in my life. Seeing as how there are few Vietnamese who really know about the traditions of Halloween, and even fewer who celebrate them, it would be most presumptuous of us to ring doorbells and shake gates demanding candy.

Costume creativity was at its highest. I've been so busy with work and worrying, that I wasn't able to think as much about Halloween as I usually do. You know, that and the fact that Vietnamese locals don't celebrate Halloween, so there are not as many costume options and accessories readily available. I think people still looked great, tho!

The House of Ghost Horses (a name I dubbed from one of the signs in our house that translates to "Ghosts of horses run through your house for good protection/luck/fortune/something) got to throw its first party=) It was not a large gathering, but it was awfully fun. Lisa Von Clorblood, a fellow Viet-American that I met while student teaching, came with many people she introduced me to - Jan (umm, the ummm....hostess), Annamarie (the bumblebee), Arthur (the Count of Monte Cristo/Swiss Family Robinson), and some of Annamarie's friends. Em and Lydia showed up in their ao dai, which were both really sweet. Chris Tran (the hippie clown) and I (the work of art) got to show off some swing dance moves, though a bit precariously seeing as how we both had a bit of rhum. Danny set up his bowling pins and we played "Block the bowling." I think he had the easiest time of it because his "Buddhist monk" garb prevented you from being able to throw it between his legs. I, on the other hand, who take up no room and have no semblance of hand-eye coordination skills, sucked. But hey, I got to chuck a ball around! Ain't nothin' wrong with that.

Then, the party moved to Lush, a swanky night bar that a lot of expats frequent. There weren't as many people dressed up as I had hoped, but it was still a good time. Dracula carried around a big Johnnie Walker bottle and was very generous. All in all, it was a great Halloween.

Miss all my fellow trick-or-treaters!

Pics will come once I gather them from the many cameras that were busy clicking away.

The Joy of Kiddies

On my first day off all week, I was needed at the last minute to sub for a class of little children at ILA, a language school run by Brits (i.e. a school who doesn't care that I look Asian). These kids haven't even started attending regular school yet. I'm guessing they are around 3-5 years old. When I asked about what I should do with these young-uns, the answer I got was simply, "play games with them and get them to talk. But they can't read and they don't know a lot of English, so you have to act out a lot." When I tried to ascertain what they were learning, the lady said, "Everything in the book up to their test."

Umm, okay.........and I only have 10 minutes to prepare? To find out what they've been learning all semester and have enough games to keep their attention for 2 hours/120 minutes/7200 seconds? To improvise teaching a class that you're supposed to be "specially trained" for? Sure!!.......

What I learned is that I really do love working with little ones. For 2 hours, I get to entertain these bright-eyed, smiling, bushy-tailed, enthusiastic balls of energy while I "revised" (see weblog entitled "different cultural experiences") over things like colors and fruits and vegetables. Do they know what a vegetable is? No, but they're pleased as pie to say it! Every English word they serve comes on a plate garnished with wide eyes that are looking for your approval. Your dessert? The big toothy grin you get when you tell them how well they did. The cherry on top is the big wave goodbye and the "see you next week!" in a hurried, jumbled, but adorable mess of English. I didn't have the heart to tell them that I wouldn't be coming back next week. I just hoped that they would forgive me.

The best part about teaching them was that I felt no qualms about answering them in English after they spoke to me in Vietnamese. ILA classes are designed so that the English teacher is set up with a translating TA. While this proves beneficial for many non-Vietnamese-speaking people, it also separates the power to discipline. And the classroom should be a teach-ocracy. The students learn that they only have to behave when their TA tells them to be quiet because they can pretend that they didn't understand the English teacher the first time around. Or they just don't care. Many students can tell you the name of their TA, but not their teacher's. This was a big problem for me, seeing as how I do understand most of what the students are saying in Vietnamese but need to feign ignorance in order to retain the credibility of my "English teaching." I haven't quite figured out which students don't care and which students will tattle on me and cause me to lose my job. If I can speak Vietnamese, there is a danger that I will not teach them English well enough because I will, gasp, speak Vietnamese to them! Apparently, I will not be able to control myself.

But with these kids, it didn't matter. They barely noticed that they spoke to me in Vietnamese and I answered correctly in English. I'm not even sure they consciously processed the distinction anyway. There are times when even my broken Vietnamese comes out naturally, and it takes me a moment to grasp why my English-speaking friend is looking at me all perplexed-like (don't worry, I'm still paranoid enough to always keep myself in check in the classroom). The age of these "kiddies" (as the Vietnamese call them) worked very much in my favor because they truly appreciated my immediate understanding and didn't need to wait impatiently for the already-engaged TA to come to the rescue.

And they were soooo much fun! My shining teacher moment was when I played "cat, cat, dog" (they didn't know what a goose was), and I acted out "dog" by getting on all fours and barking while I "sniffed" the children. They got a BIG kick outta that one. And when little kids laugh, they do it with everything they got. It was exhilarating to experience. It's classes like these that remind me how much fun teaching can be.

Life as a High School Teacher

Adolescent Antic of the week: goes to Daniel, who didn't want to stand in the "Big Booty" circle. (Oh yes, my friends, I have been teaching them "Big Booty." Go Madrigal Dinner!) So, he sat on a chair that he had placed on top of a desk, assumingly to stand out. Being the very-tall 13-year-old that he is, he certainly towered over everyone for a whole 3 seconds.

In the past week (or, more accurately, 4 days), I have come to a grim realization - high school students are pretty much the same anywhere. They deal with the same awkward issues, they come to class with the same "what am I doing here?" look on their faces, they all simultaneously want you to go to hell and teach them something really cool.

As a sub, it's even worse. They have already assumed that you don't really have anything invested in them; they are absolutely sure that you could care less about being there except for the fact that you are getting paid to do it; and they are pretty sure that they can get away with anything they want because, hey, it's not like you're going to be coming back to torture them.

Students here have the added bonus of being told what to learn instead of being told to think about what they are learning. Every time I ask them why, they give me the same squinty, bewildered, because-that's-what-you-just-told-me look. Maybe I'm new, but it takes a while to break a classroom out of the automatic "Yes" every time you ask them a question. But I gotta hand it to these kids, they pick up quickly, especially considering that they are picking things up in a second language that is VERY different from their own.

I must admit, I get very excited when the eyes get larger, the light comes on, and a hint of a smile peeks out from their normal indifferent expressions as they come to understand something that they find interesting.

Now all I have to do is figure out how to unlearn the many test runs of 1:30-2 hour classes and condense everything into 30 minutes...

IMing at 1:40 AM

Note to self: Never underestimate the intrigue of the surprising complexity of human emotion and subsequent action.

Asian School

Ok, so it was a little misleading to say that I finally had a job. Technically, I have had jobs before, but this is the first job I've gotten that can actually pay rent and that I can conceivably keep for a while.

I came here wanting to teach lower income children and adults going overseas. Remembering my teenage years a little too well, I was reluctant to take on high schoolers because let's face it, who wants to learn anything in school when you are between the ages of 13-18? You just want to get out of there as quickly as possible and get people to stop telling you what to do. I really wanted to teach little kids; I mean, they're enthusiastic, they keep you on your toes, they love games, and they are just adorable!

So who did I end up teaching? 13-16 year olds. High schoolers who are too loud or too quiet, who look at me, not out of understanding, but more out of a "what the hell?" kinda feeling. But, I'm still really excited about it. I think I actually got some attention, though. They looked up from their not-so-concealed comic books, doodles, magazines, etc.

Tomorrow, i get to teach my first drama class! Yea!

I finally have a job!

After lots of sweat and tears, I finally secured a job at Asian High School, a school that sets up 30 minute classes in Vietnamese taught in the morning and classes in English taught in the afternoon. The best part about the job is that I get to teach a drama class every Wed.!

As I watch my life move forward, I find that the more leaps of faith I take, i.e. the choices I make that I don't quite understand, are the ones I seem to enjoy the most.

The Vietnamese "Yes"

Ever since I was little, my grandmother used to scold me for saying "da" (pron: ya) to her when I wanted to tell her "yes" to a question. She would put that tone (the "please move some information around in your brain and reserve a special place for this because I've told it to you a billion times, and I'm getting annoyed" tone) in her voice and would say (in Vietnamese), "you have to add a word to that. Da vung (yes, that's correct), da khong (yes, that's not correct), da co (yes, I have it), da duoc (yes, that's fine)," etc. In my mind, I have always translated "da" as "yes."

After being here, I understand why my grandmother was so frustrated. To the Vietnamese, when they say "yes" to anything, they mean "yes, I am acknowledging that I have heard the words that are coming out of your mouth." Whether they are saying "yes" to your question, or whether they have even understood your question, is apparently irrelevant. You have to ask the question 3 more times, using different words if you're speaking English or gesticulating wildly if you are speaking Vietnamese. You also have to add "or no" to your questions, even if it doesn't make any sense.

When I addressed this problem to one of my older classes, one of my students told me that he didn't want to hold everyone else back with his selfish misunderstanding. His exact words were "I don't want to hold the class back." I countered with, "If you don't understand, chances are someone else doesn't either."

I opened up a flood gate. this guy asked me anything and everything under the sun. It was wonderful. I really felt like I was teaching. I could explain to them differences culturally and semantically; I was able to bring my innate knowledges of both Vietnamese and English to the table.

In an educational world that favors the student's pocketbook over the student's education, a teacher with impeccable English and an Asian face is turned down for a white face, even if they are from France and speak with a romantic (but improper) uncomprehensible "twang." So, it was quite refreshing to have students appreciate my Asian heritage instead of insist on a whiter face. It felt even more invigorating to know that my students wanted me back on merit.

I think it has to do with the grammatical structural differences between Vietnamese and English, which also directly relate to cultural differences. But more on this later.

New Place, New Life, New Hair

This is my old hair, preserved in a photo for all to see.

I figured that since I was doing a whole new life thing, I should have a new haircut to go along with it. It took me a whole week and a half to do it; it's amazing how many things come up last minute in this country.

The following is the picture I gave the stylist.


I really liked the bangs, but this cut seemed a little young. I wanted a little more texture at the bottom and I wanted it a bit shorter.











I wanted this kind of uneven texture at the bottom, but this girl's hair looked a little thin.








So I asked for this kind of fullness. Since the bottoms of my hair curl, I needed a haircut that could work with that. I didn't want something that went against my hair, but with it.






He nodded, told me he "understood," and started to cut. I was wearing my glasses, so there were times when I had to take them off so that he could work. I was a little nervous because he was cutting my hair dry, which most hairstylists never do when they work with my hair (it's very very thick).

I was feeling a little distraught because I just got rejected from yet another job because of my Asian appearance, so I really wanted to drastically change my hair. I wanted to look different from all the other long-haired Vietnamese girls.

So this is what I got:

It's a little different. What do you think?

Blogspot's 1st Motorbike Moment

I realize that I have not described any motorbike moments in a while, but after a while, it's less surprising to see people with huge boxes on their motorbikes. However, I do think I must give props where props are due.

Motorbike Moment: A man was driving on the wrong side of the road that we live on, Nam Ky Khoi Nghia. He had a child sitting in front of him who was resting her head on his arm. I thought it was a little dangerous; after all, the child could fall. As they came closer, I could see that the child was actually sleeping. Someone, a small child, fell asleep while sitting on a motorbike. Not only that, but she was actually resting on his arm, the very arm that is steering the motorbike on the wrong side of the road, and not falling off!!! Big trophy to the kid who could not have been more than 4 years old. I salute you.

2nd place goes to the doog panting on the motorbike. I don't know how it managed to stay on, look around, and not be curious enough to jump off (nothing was keeping this dog on this bike but the dog's surprising obedience and perhaps a bit of fear of the owner driving). That'll do, dog. That'll do.

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Different Cultural Experiences

Yesterday, Danny and Em invited me to the Chabad House to spend a part of Sukkot with them. Here I am in an Asian country learning about a Jewish holiday. They build a sukkah, which is a temporary tent-like structure that is supposed to made out of something that grew in the ground and was cut off. Then, they eat and pray under it to remember the time when the Israelites spent 40 years in the desert living in temporary dwellings. I always admire the detailed lengths that Jewish holidays go to preserve their history and remind their people of past and ever-present struggles.

It's rather interesting that while I'm Vietnam, I can also learn about other cultures, like the Jewish culture or the Australian and British languages. When I was interviewing with a British school, they kept talking about "revising" a lesson plan. I kept wondering why they would give me a planned-out lesson and ask me to change it until I found out that it meant "review." I also learned the word "lorry," which is an 18-wheeler, though it can also be used for regular trucks. So goes the communication experience.

New house!

Yes, everyone, I have finally moved into a new house in a new country. I have done business with a different culture, I have stressed out in 2 different languages, and I finally have a place that I can call my own. At least for 6 months.

I am currently living with Language Corps peo: Eric and Mai Hien are residing on the second floor (or first floor after the ground floor in Vietnam-speak). I am across from a wet bar/mini-kitchen by myself on the 3rd floor (it's like having a mini-apartment in the house!), and on the top floor are Danny and Dave. We went shopping for community goods last night, which means that with the huge deposit and first moneth's rent, I am now broke.

How good it feels to have a home to hang out and not-spend money.

NOTE: I have changed the settings so that now anyone can post a comment, even if you aren't registered with blogspot. Happy posting!