Carrot cake shouldn't be considered a dessert...

To start off, I am eternally sorry to all of my amazing, awesome, faithful, best ever, i'verunoutofniceadjectivesafterfive, etc. readers who I forgot to give a shout out to. I'm not going to try again because who knows who I will offend if I don't mention them (hopefully this list includes Obama, Tina Fey, and Michael Cera...whatever, it's a dream.) but just keep in mind that I love you all equally (again, except for Michael Cera...he's at the top. oh and I guess Nance Pants and Teddyboy) and appreciate your readership (is that a word?) and support for my political incorrectness, exceptional awkwardness, and fight against all mosquitos (that I am eternally losing).


Because I have been pretty horrible about keeping this updated (particularly because I never actually write about anything chronologically relevant but more so absurd rants), I'm going to try and actually take note of things that I've done and not necessarily the incredible ringtones that I've heard or the very special food that I've eaten. (okay that's a lie...I can't not talk about the food. shit, time to get my mind out of the garbage disposal...not funny? woops.) It's almost 10:30 pm here which is far past my bedtime seeing as I am a 90 year old in a 20 year old's body so please excuse any English that doesn't totally make sense (my Vietnamese is just too freaking good...so the five words that I know and my counting abilities) and if the humor is a little diluted (oh wait, sleep deprivation is actually not an excuse for that...wooops). Also very sorry if my interrupting train of thought (aka the parentheses...good example right here) is hyper confusing but at this late hour my thoughts aren't necessarily as coherent as usual (however coherent that might ever be).


Today was my last day of work at Hanoi Medical University but I will save that story for tomorrow or else my attempt at sequencing events will be more screwed up than it already is. Because I wasn't going to be there for lunch today, Hang, Ly, and Huyen (the ladies that I work with at HMU and who take me out to lunch because I clearly cannot fend for myself at crowded little rice shops where I could confuse caterpillars with who even knows what not to mention that I would be severly ripped off) took me to the restaurant at HMU to get "hot pot." Every time that I perceive something to be a specialty (like hot pot), Hang usually rains on my parade and says "oh no, I ate that last night for dinner." I'm not sure why she likes to eat the same thing for dinner and then lunch but I am just glad that she has put up with taking me to lunch for an entire month and dealing with Vietnamese-unfriendly diet codes (aka no puppies, insects, bitter "tea", etc.). Anyway, the best way that I can relay hot pot is that it's like fondue but healthy because apparently that's a common theme in Vietnamese food (ridiculous.). So essentially, the restaurant makes a big bowl of soup and then puts a big burner on your table (I'm sure this would totally fly in the US) so that you can cook the massive plates of raw meat and seafood, vegetables, and in this case mushrooms and tofu (because my coworkers are too nice...and think that I'm insane for not wanting to eat the unidentified pieces of meat).


Our hot pot had enough food to quite possible feed the entire city of Hanoi but my coworkers not only know how to eat (but could probably all fit on one seat on an airplane together...Vietnamese people are definitely who Oprah needs to take some lessons from) they also eat at rapid paces. I'm at a clear disadvantage because I'm about as good at using chopsticks as I am at speaking Vietnamese (I can't actually get myself home in a cab without writing down the name of my street if that gives you an indication) and the freaking TMJ both keep my eating speed at the equivalent of a 90-year old driving on the freeway (so thats pretty appropriate considering that is about how old I act). Fortunately, Hang, who is only 3 years older than me, has decided to be my mom for the summer and constantly checks to make sure that I'm eating enough and during our hot pot lunch just kept shoveling things into my bowl. I actually remembered to bring my camera somewhere with me so I can enlighten everyone with some pictures of Vietnamese fondue and the plate of raw meat that stared at me through the entire meal....

you can't actually see the size of the plate of greens but just imagine what a decent sized forest would look like on a plate. The plate on the right (I'm sure this is also someone's left...and that is why I'm awesome at driving) is the meat/seafood/miscellaneous "food" items and the plate in the back is filled with mushrooms. My coworkers who used to try and describe where each piece of miscellaneous meat came from (intestine, liver, etc.) but they have reached a point where they just say "it's from a part that you probably won't eat." I really do wish I could bring myself to try more organs (I think that's the right answer) but my lovely Grandma Ethel never got that to work with me and I don't think my co-workers will either. The really awesome part about the mushrooms that no one decided to fill me in (even though I should've known based on my extensive food network knowledge) is that they soak up liquid like sponges so when you bite into them after they are in hot soup, hot soup explodes on your face! that was a really, really good look for me.


THEY HAVE RAMEN IN VIETNAM TOO---all of my dreams came true. Sadly though, this delicacy (which comes in a legit ramen package) is just called "instant noodles" here (overwhelming creativity in that title). This is probably my first noodle serving of 15 (only of noodles--noodles are eaten in the hot pot after the mean and vegetables are gone).


However, hot pot lunch wasn't just special because of the culinary experience but because of possibly my biggest language blunder to date. So Huyen asked me "do you like karaoke," which is pronounced kar-A-O-kay in Vietnam and not like we pronounce it in the grand old US of A. Seeing as I have such a one track mind, I heard "do you like carrot cake." I'm thinking, oh gosh they want to order dessert (this is maybe 2/96 servings into the meal), I should tell them my honest opinion so I go into my age-old rant on how I don't think that carrot cake should be considered dessert because vegetables have no place in dessert (but seriously, go back to the freaking salad bowl, carrots). Because all three of my co-workers rightfully look totally confused, I repeat this same psychotic logic for at least ten minutes as they ask clarifying questions becaues they think that I'm trying to draw a comparison between karaoke and carrot cake rather than letting me know that they actually want to know if I like karaoke. This is one of the times when I really wish I wasn't so long-winded and I could've just said "no, I do not like it" rather than trying to explain why carrots belong in salad rather than cake and making myself seem more insane. I am truly sorry to all subsequent Americans that these women meet because I have set an incredibily ridiculous precedent.


Fortunately for everyone, I am on the verge of crashing so this is a relatively short and substance-less entry. Sorry that this whole thing is actually about essentially nothing. I will try and write another one before I leave so that everyone can continue to be inspired by my impressions of a foreign culture and the obviously deep insights that I have into it...wooops. Can't wait to be around puppies that aren't just for dinner or carrying rabies and pooping in the middle of the road!


as always:

nance pants--still wearing that effing bite plate even though it smells like old fish and kind of makes me want to projectile vom. if the TMJ ever goes away, I'm going to have a ceremonial burning (if this can even be destroyed...).


teddy boy-- ate a mysterious looking piece of food disguised as "squid" in your honor...still trying to decide if it was intestine or an old tire.

Where Do--Oh sorry, Britney Spears is calling (but in Vietnamese)

Unfortunately for the rest of the world (aka the 5 people that have been forced into reading this), my loyal and adoring blog fans (is there a specific word for this that I should know once I make it big in blogging), otherwise known as morganne, nance pants and lori (SHOUT OUT...WASSUP), have apparently missed my constant whining and have requested another long-winded entry about my distorted views on the world. (Sorry, was that the longest sentence ever written? My writing 20 teacher would be p-i-s-s-e-d.) Because I am not one to let down the three fans that I have (I know I lost my dad when I talked about my grandma's cooking...woops), I am taking time out of my lunch break to take care of them. That would be out of my TWO HOUR "lunch" (if that is what we're calling these interesting meals) break...did you read that Z&B? I have moved up in the world from a 40 minute, unpaid lunch break at the firm to a 2 hour (unpaid) lunch break (which the rest of Vietnam may or may not also take). The only logical next step...get paid to eat.


Aside from my logistical concerns with my lovely summer job back at home, I would like to update everyone that I am down to 4 mosquito bites (even though they might be the size of m&ms at this point...back to food. damn.), I still have all of my limbs intact (definitely jinxed myself), and I have avoided eating caterpillars, puppies, and slugs (sorry, France). I know that this is hard to believe, but I think that I am possibly tied with Ha Noi this week (correct, Carly tied with an entire city). At least I'm going to continue to think that we're tied until I get bit by a stray dog that confuses me for a cow (I am legitimately that much larger than all Vietnamese people) or some dirty water falls out of a window onto my head and I contract Hepatitis (well that was not really funny at all, was it?).


For anyone that doesn't enjoy joking about diseases transmitted through fecal matter (so, no one), I think that you will appreciate some of the finer uses of English here in Ha Noi. During most of my cab rides to and from work, I am too busy being a backseat driver (not that it matters because none of my cab drivers to date have spoken any English) and stomping on my invisible break to take note of the signs on stores. Fortunately, between my hosts and myself, we have picked out some pretty amazing places to visit if any of you ever decides to come to Ha Noi:

1. The Floating Restraint: this is a very interesting building (shack) that sits in the middle of Ho Tay, a lake near my house. I have yet to see an intact bridge to the Floating Restraint but maybe that is part of the appeal--a little swim. According to the rest of the signage, this is in fact a place that sells food and isn't a prison or something creepier (or sadomasochistic). Maybe one day someone will fix the sign to say Floating Restaurant but that would really destroy the entertainment value.

2. The Dental Clink: one day I decided to tag along with my host family when they went baby shopping for their son (it doesn't really get more Vietnamese than checking out Gerber products in a store in Vietnam) and I was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of the new "dental clink" that was moving in next door. Baby's got a new set of teeth--take it to the dental clink! I'm considering visiting them about my TMJ just to get a 458th opinion...I think Z&B would agree that it would only help.


and just in case all of you over-pampered, anxiety-filled Americans were concerned about coming to visit construction sites in Ha Noi...they truly put "safety fist." The sign on the worksite near the house says so and I certainly believe it. They may never be wearing hard hats and carry piles of bricks wearing rubber sandals but I'm sure they follow the Vietnamese version of OSHA's rules. (holy crap, OSHA...way too much time working for teddy boy. please don't bother looking up OSHA if you don't know what it is...you won't care.)


While I haven't made most of these amazing English discoveries during my cab rides home from work, I have had some very interesting experiences with taxis during my time here. Fortunately, my host Jenny pointed me in the right direction of some cab companies that are considered reliable during my first few days here. While all cabs here have meters, many cab drivers seriously mess around with them and charge people totally outrageous prices so it's advised to only use certain companies. As I learned after a few mistakes, apparently different sized cars (van, sedan, smartcar-type size but definitely NOT smart) charge different prices. In USD, the prices are actually only off by about a $1 or 2 but when you hear that the difference is 20,000 anything (even if that's only ~$1.08), it's hard to pay...or at least it is for someone as cheap as I am. It is especially difficult to part with that $1.08 because that is typically about what my lunch costs (TAKE THAT, ALPINE BAGELS.). As a result of my stinginess, I have started hunting down the small cabs that typically park as far away from my street as possible because there are many ex-pats here who are willing to pay for the bigger cars. This usually results in me walking for 15 minutes until I get so sweaty and not presentable for work that I have to use the next taxi that I see--which 2 out of 3 times is a van. what incredible luck I have! (is that English? I'm really doubting my English skills after spending my days with people who speak English as a very second language.) Fortunately, Hang, my trusty co-worker and supplier of scary food, helps by calling me a small cab every day so that the creepy bike drivers outside of work can't yell "HELLO MOTO" (WHY? i don't know.) as I try to remain persistent about finding a little taxi.


Other than my absurd rant about $1.08 which has probably resulted in the loss of a lot of readers by this point, there are many more interesting things to be noted about taxis and their drivers. Firstly would be the music choices of some of my lovely taxi drivers. Some of the drivers choose to listen to more traditional Vietnamese music which is always nice because I love music and I think it's a good way to learn about a new culture. However, these drivers have been rare in my experience. Instead, I tend to get drivers who like to listen to music on repeat...if you can call it music. On one of my first rides home, I had the pleasure of listening to the Rocky theme song on repeat. I like little reminders of home but not necessarily on repeat for 45 minutes in traffic. It was only exciting when I drove past Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum because it's a giant stone tomb...which doesn't really have anything to do with Rocky or his theme song but whatever. It worked for me...for 2 of those 45 very long minutes.


Another dazzling taxi concert that I got to sit through was "boom boom boom"--also on repeat from a cassette tape! (ARE CASSETTES EVEN STILL IN PRODUCTION?....see, very not-smart little cars). Luckily for me, this musical masterpiece was part of ADPi's recruitment song this year so the only thing that I heard was "wear white and blue, we want you in our crew" (are those even the right lyrics...I don't really even think I knew them totally at recruitment?). So as my driver sat in the front singing his own version of the English lyrics, I sat in the back singing a very wrong version of the already wrong lyrics. what a solid day.


Last but not least, and probably my favorite taxi driver that I can remember, was the man who had a Britney Spears ringtone on his phone. There aren't any rules about cell phone usage while driving in Vietnam so it's not uncommon for a taxi driver to constantly be taking and making calls. Good thing that this driver was just Mr. Popular on the morning that I got to take his cab! Over and over--the chorus of "If You Seek Amy" but in weird tonal sounds would play and then he would yell things into his phone and throw it at the passenger's seat (he must really like his friends). That was easily one of the best hours of my life (that's right--we also hit rush hour traffic...which is almost every hour here in Ha Noi).

(Hopefully my grandmothers who are reading this don't know the song If You Seek Amy and one of my relatives can explain this in terms of a more generationally relevant example...of which I have zero. Either way, I can only imagine what nice thoughts Grandma Ethel has on Brit Brit...if only her favorite Yiddish words weren't inappropriate for the internet...yes, even the internet.)


I know that this will sound weird, but I actually have a lot more to say about taxi drivers but I will save that for another time because I just wrote a short novel...woooops. I hope that my unavoidable internal dialogue that made its way into all of the parentheses in this entry hasn't confused or more importantly (and probable) offended anyone. Can't wait to be back in the same time zone as most of you (sorry morganne...at least you have your tim tams) in a week!


as always:

nance pants-- still wearing that effing bite plate. that dentist isn't getting any freaking peppercorns. i'm still debating if i feel the same about brushing my teeth. (please ask for the uncensored version of my feelings)

teddy boy--sorry for trash talking Z&B...it's a love-hate relationship. i am serious about getting paid to eat though. please consider that for when i refuse to come back next summer and get stuck doing it anyway because no one else wants to hire a junior (holy crap) in college.

"Vietnamese eat...how do you say, before butterfly?"

While everyone that enjoys laughing at my constant struggle with the environment, the food, and actually maybe all of Vietnamese culture, I figure that there is no need to update my scoreboard of carly v. Ha Noi considering everyone knows what's coming. If you can't figure it out, I'm still losing...by a lot. I did ALMOST get a mosquito today but then it turns out I actually just had dirt on my glasses. So in reality, I guess I almost broke my glasses on my face?


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

What it's like to almost get run over...daily.

Sorry to all of my loyal and adoring fans (or my parents and extended family...whatever.) that it has taken me a week to get myself together enough to write another entry on this thing. I have been far too busy sweating my brains out, swatting mosquitoes and getting bit anyway, trying to navigate some very "interesting" food with my co-workers, and doing prenatal yoga. Not to worry nance pants (mom), I'll try and explain all of my "interesting" adventures so that no one incorrectly interprets them.


Just to see how I match up against Hanoi so far in my trip:

humidity: 45000^6, carly: 0

mosquitoes: 9, carly: .5 (really thought i got that one but it was just an appendage)

really bitter and scary tea in my office: 6, carly: 1 (only because I was trying to be polite...)

crazy gelatinous "food" that my co-workers try to make me eat: 2, carly:0

vehicle and motorbike drivers: 400000000, carly: -4000000

crazy lady selling hot bread at dawn: 4, carly: 0 (I'm not sure that throwing rocks out of my window would be appropriate)


Well that scoreboard analysis is totally reassuring for me. I guess it's good that I don't feel (aka obviously haven't) gotten a hold on this city because that would obviously be underestimating it. I'm a horrible loser but I don't think I'd be able to settle the scores without years here, actually being able to speak Vietnamese, a much stronger stomach, and some seriously effective bug spray...or just straight DEET.


In other news, it would probably be relevant for me to explain the title of this post. Apparently Vietnamese people aren't really into the idea of pedestrians having any sort of right of way. A majority of the population drives motorbikes and for the people that aren't in a motorbike, they are driving taxis. There is no such thing as an off-peak time to be on the streets. Essentially, no one ever drives over 15 mph because there are so many people on the roads. It is constant rush hour which is also great considering the extremely polluted air in Hanoi. Perfect conditions for a whiny, asthmatic girl from the suburbs of Philly.

The other really exciting part of the traffic "system" here is that lanes and traffic lights are really only suggestions. The same way that many Americans take yellow lights to mean "ehh, the people behind me will have to slow down to not hit pedestrians," red lights have that meaning here and green lights are just a free for all...a free for all to really just hit people. According to my hosts and my Vietnamese friends, the best way to approach crossing a street is to just walk and ignore anything you've ever learned about traffic. Instead of stopping to let traffic pass then walking, you just assume motorbikers who are swerving around cars will just swerve around you the same way. My personal attempt to master the traffic consists of walking out of my way for blocks until I find a traffic light...or hiding behind Vietnamese people and following them across the street. Just making friends as many ways as possible!


Aside from my rant about daily near death experiences while crossing the street, I promised to put up pictures that are hopefully more exciting than my stories would ever be about them (and mostly because I can't exactly remember what most of pictures are of....wooooops). As a forewarning, I may or may not make up half the descriptions of the following pictures...
This is a house across the street from where I live that sort of looks like mine...that I guess I creep-ed on because I was too lazy to go outside and take a picture of my hosts' home....shocking behavior for me.
HAHAHA. I feel like SUCH a tool. I promise that he asked to take a picture with me while I was minding my own business and reading on the lake. I just thought my parents would enjoy seeing that I'm okay (even though this picture is only from day 3...).
This is a floating temple in the middle of Hoan Kiem Lake (essentially the center of town...or at least that's what I think based on my total lack of geography skills). I have no idea how it got there or if it serves a purpose at this point but it definitely serves as a great photo-op for tourists.
yesssssss ice cream. one track mind.
...a pagoda. but I can't remember where. It's very much in my nature to bullshit this but also probably super disrespectful to try so on a rare occasion in my life, I am attempting to filter myself.
ahhhhhh incense. one of very few things that reminds me of home here...is that weird? thank you nance pants for that cultural experience.
Sorry that I can't figure out how to put this in the right direction but I'm not technologically capable enough (and it's going to bother me forever). Either way, I think that anyone can understand the extreme discomfort that this "dessert" caused me on my 3rd day of work. Apparently, this is a dessert drink with jelly, fruit, seaweed (completely convinced that it was slugs...), and really who knows what else might have been in there. The ladies that I went to lunch with thought it was hilarious how uncomfortable some of the traditional food (or all of it) made me. I think they intentionally started ordering things just to freak me out.

While the house that I live in cooks mostly "Western" food, whenever I go out, I try to eat Vietnamese food. If the drink above wasn't enough to explain the major cultural differences in food, I think it is enough to say that my grandma Ethel would not only love the food here but probably be a celebrated chef for her use of unusual items. For anyone that knows my grandmother and her cooking repertoire that includes "magic" brownies, uncooked Thanksgiving turkey, or my dad's childhood breakfasts of mint liqueur on grapefruit might be better able to understand the food that I'm trying here. The restaurants here use parts of animals that I didn't even know existed. There have been things floating in my soup that I absolutely can't identify and I'm thinking it's probably better that way. This is not to say that it doesn't taste good, but that I've been raised on boneless, skinless chicken breast and am learning to confront new "goodies." (uhhh goodies..hmmm)


okay time to go grocery shopping so hopefully this will keep people entertained for long enough until I can force myself to write another one. I also hope that no one has been bored to tears. miss everyone lotsssss


still brushing my teeth and wearing my bite-plate, nance pants.


eating lots of gross parts of chicken in your honor, teddy boy.

NP + TB-- please tell mikey I said hi and that I hope he had a great trip.

My Limbs Are Sweating Off...

I have been in Hanoi for almost a week and while it's an incredibly difficult city to summarize in a word or so, I am pretty sure that the two which come to mind most readily are hot and humid. On average, it's about 95 degrees here with between 50-60% humidity. For anyone who has never been under these conditions, it sort of feels like the inside of an oven...an oven that is dripping (or maybe pelting is more appropriate) your own sweat on you. When I go outside for more than 5 minutes between the hours of 7 am and 9 pm, it looks like I'm mid-shower and mid-marathon (purple face...) which I'm sure is helping me immensely to gain street cred with the local Vietnamese people (and people in general). In despite of my constant purple face and the indescribable state of my hair, I do actually do things here in addition to sweating...

To start from the beginning, I left JFK Airport on Sunday July 19 at the nice hour of 11:45 pm. I started out slightly worried because the lady sitting next to me in the terminal was wearing a dress covered in embroidered flip-flops and wearing sunglasses (inside and at night...). While it would be cool to say things got better, the 18.5 hours to Taipei weren't exactly awesome. The flight wasn't full which would seem great except that the lady sitting in the middle seat (I was on the window) decided to leave her bag on the open aisle seat and she spoke no english. Fortunately, she also wanted to share my headrest and slept on my seat all the way to Anchorage (half of the flight). After refueling in Anchorage, she started pulling endless fruit out of her bag. If was essentially like sitting in the middle of the produce section at the grocery store. When we made it to Taipei, I sat in the un-air conditioned airport (which had free wifi...yessss) for a few hours and finally made it to Hanoi on Tuesday July 21 at 10:25 am.

Okay, that is probably a decent amount of whining for one post. I got incredibly lucky with my living situation in Hanoi. The family that I am living with for the next month, Jenny, Lasse, and Jules (their 9-month old son who is one of the cutest babies ever), are so nice and essentially have allowed me to make myself at home (we'll see if that was a good idea on their part). They live in an area that has a lot of ex-pats but certainly some locals as well. However, the best part is that the area (which is essentially the very nice suburban part of the city) is loaded with "massage parlors" which is just code for sex shops. (Does anyone from Cheltenham remember the Sunshine Spa? yeah.) This is possibly the oddest area for sex shops but then again, who saw the Sunshine Spa moving in next to a pet store? The house is awesome and it has air conditioning so I can't really ask for anything more.

When I can deal with leaving the a/c, also known as 8:30am on weekdays, I venture to somewhere in the city (haven't exactly got my bearings yet) to Hanoi Medical University [Đại học Y Hà Nội...try pronouncing that one]. On my first day of work, the security guards thought it would be hilarious to send me to the 2nd floor when the group that I work with actually works on the 4th floor of the building so I spent 20 minutes knocking on every wrong door. That was fun. For the next month, I am working on a literature review about male sex workers in Vietnam (aka reading a lot), helping do some background research on the treatment of the various professions that work with HIV-AIDS patients (aka reading some more), and helping some of my co-workers improve their English so that they can eventually do work in the US (aka talking...yessss a skill I definitely have...not that I can't read).

Okay, I assume that this is more than enough for one posting and that if I write anymore, all of my readers' (hahahaha) brains will explode. In my next exhilarating and mind-numbingly long post, I will hopefully figure out how to post pictures so that I will be inspired to write less about what I've seen so far in Hanoi.

Brushing my teeth and wearing my bite-plate, Nance.

As a disclaimer: I promised myself that I'd never start one of these because in all honesty no one else needs to hear what goes on inside my head (for their own sanity). However, I'm eating my own words because I promised to keep my grandmothers updated on my Vietnam experience and seeing as they are technologically savvy women (aka my parents can print this out and send it to them), this seems the easiest way to do it.