In news less relevant to self-imposed dangers (aka the story of my life...not sure how there is even much more to say than about how I almost (always) constantly hurt myself...), I started my third week here as of Tuesday and I have yet to sweat off any appendages so I consider that a pretty decent thing. I am fairly sure that I will lose a foot to a motorbike or truck before they melt off but I can't really be certain. In order to give the reckless drivers of Ha Noi more opportunities to run me over, I have started getting out of my cab home from work about 8 minutes before my house (I'd like to estimate in km or miles or some relevant unit of measurement but I have negative estimation skills and so it would just throw everyone off even more). I also made the decision to get out of the cab early because it saves me about 4,000 Vietnamese Dong, so about 15ish cents (kidding). It is also nice to be outside (HAHAHA...never) after sitting in our little office all day and to check out all of the stalls/stores and people who sit outside all afternoon.
As a result of my year-long research on sex-workers, my mini-walk also gives me a chance to uncomfortably peak into the dozens of "nha nghi" on our street (that would be Vietnamese for motels that are really sex shops. I don't remember how to say thank you in Vietnamese, but I can say sex shop. I bet Nance Pants is super proud right now). I can't actually see inside of them or watch the negotiation process go down (most people aren't running to the nha nghi at 3pm though), but I'll keep pretending. The other issue is that I don't really know how close I should get to the men who sit at the entrance of each nha nghi just so that I don't give off the wrong impression...like that I'm looking for a room or a job. All for the sake of research, my friends.
Because this blog has yet to make any chronological sense or actually describe what I've done here so far, I figure 2 weeks in is probably an appropriate time to start (not keep it up, but at least start) including something substantial on this so that people don't think I'm spending my entire trip to Vietnam getting bit by mosquitos and freaked out by food (even if that is a large portion of it). On Friday, I taught my first English class with a great group of women who work for the STAR program at Ha Noi Medical University. I'm pretty sure that the majority of them have their masters degrees or are working towards them so it's not like I was able to teach counting and get away with it. Instead, we discussed introductions and etiquette in the US and Vietnam which is hilarious because I am far too awkward and kind of rude to have make great first impressions and my etiquette knowledge consists of not using your napkin as a bib. I have never been more thankful for google.
In return for instructing my class on important things like to not ask a woman her age (but rather to tell her she looks she is 20...we are such a confused society), they taught me the appropriate titles to use for people including chi, ang, and some others that I can't spell or remember. It was at this point that my entire class realized they're all older than me and so I have to refer to them as "chi" and they would refer to me as "em" which would be a lot funnier/more awkward if anyone reading this was there...woooops. Anyway, I had the important job of defining cutlery/silverware, teaching them how to use a fork and knife, and vividly act out how someone shouldn't "wad up" their napkin and throw it on the table when they finish a meal. (please ask for a reenactment if you're interested) Unfortunately, I wasn't a useful resource on the precise angle that a fork should apparently be held at to eat a main course. Is Duke really teaching me anything?
I also took it upon myself to decide that the office that I am working in is not exciting enough for the work that they're doing. As a result, my amazing Ha Noi guide, lunch buddy, and gchat/skype/fb friend, Hang and I are putting my incredible lack of creativity to the test to attempt and redecorate. She also has decided that we should encorporate feng shui into the room so she will clearly be in charge of that because I'm more into comfort than correct placement. This also apparently means there can't be any black in the room so they might as well count me out (thank you, paris).
Aside from taking my decorating "advice" too seriously, Hang is very set on having me try the craziest looking food that she can find near our work. For example, yesterday we ate at a shop where you get a big plate of rice and then get to pick what you put on top, sort of like a buffet that costs about $1. This so-called buffet offered pork wrapped in something, fish cooked in something else, and the always appetizing...how do you say, before butterfly. Correct, that would be caterpillars. Unfortunately, I didn't get to take a picture of the poor, little, hungry, hungry caterpillars because the store was legitimately as big as my dorm room. I think that I am officially declaring myself a bug-vegetarian if those exist...meaning that I eat everything except bugs...and most of the other scary gelatinous stuff that Hang would like me to try but I refuse daily, including the tofu "dessert"in the picture below. I didn't think it was possible for me to turn down dessert (other than that pink crap Teddy boy chowed down on in Jamaica...still makes me want to barf) but Vietnam continues to prove me wrong.
I hope that this has given everyone their necessary little taste of my constant self-deprecation and my attempts to live without pb&j as a necessary staple. It's about dinner time here and despite the mental pain that it causes me, I have to change out of my spandex because they're not socially appropriate to wear outside of the house (crap crap crap).
of course wearing my bite-plate (except for when my nose is too stuffed...wahhhh) and brushing my teeth (I can't really imagine people think it's normal that my mom needs to be reassured that I brush my teeth via blog), nance pants
still trying to make grandma ethel a national cooking celebrity solely on reputation, teddy boy
