Goodbye Viet Nam and Hello Again Home

During my last weekend in Viet Nam I headed up north for a few days. I spent a couple of days in Hanoi to do some sightseeing. I decided to stay in the Sunshine Hotel to round out my other 2 hotels - Freedom, Dreams and Sunshine...it sounded pretty good to me.

I also went out to Ha Long Bay, which is about 3 hours away from Hanoi. It's a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The limestone islands are covered with jungle vegetation and rise up out of the ocean. Ha Long Bay means “Bay of the Descending Dragons.” Legend says that when the Vietnamese were fighting Chinese invaders, the gods sent a family of dragons to help defend them. The dragons began spitting out jewels and jade, which turned into the islands, linking together to form barriers against the invaders. The people kept their land safe and formed what later became the country of Vietnam.

Anyway, I spent the night on a beautiful boat, went swimming and kayaking at sunset and ate dinner under the stars on the deck of the boat (they were suppose to have tai chi in the morning, Will, but it got cancelled for some reason...so sad). I woke up to this massive storm at 2am because I had left my window open. The water looked so amazing swirling all around while the rain fell down and the lightning lit it all up.

As for my internship, overall, it ended up well. We’ve made some positive adjustments in some of the products and have 3 training programs running in 3 different provinces. I finished the informational brochure for area hotels, etc. and the product catalog. We’re currently working with Heifer International Gift Shop to figure out exporting issues. After we get a set protocol set with them, we’re hoping to distribute the catalog to some more organizations and eventually pursue fair trade certification.

I am back in the States now and indulging in lots of chocolate and Diet Dr. Pepper. I just wanted to thank everyone for reading my silly ramblings and for all of your posts and emails. You have no idea how much they meant and how much they made me smile. I'm looking forward to seeing all of you very soon.

Picture 1: Junk boats in Halong Bay. I stayed on one of them overnight.
Picture 2: Fishermen in Halong Bay.
Picture 3: Lotus flower at the Temple of Literature in Hanoi...the first university in Viet Nam.
Picture 4: The red bridge over Hoan Kiem Lake, which leads to the Ngoc Son Temple in Hanoi.
Picture 5: Dragons and incense in front of a pagoda in Hanoi.

Cheers! I'm a veterinarian...Cheers!

As I’ve mentioned, the family with whom I’m living loves to feed me. The first week that I was staying with them they took me out to eat. The most amusing part of this particular meal, however, was not the food, but the drinks…or rather the toasting involved with the drinks.

When our beer arrived, Thanh proposed a toast and asked, “In America, you say ‘cheers,’ yes?” I responded in the affirmative (the Vietnamese equivalent, by the way, is Do! It is pronounced ‘yo!’ which makes me think of Reggie and her beloved Philly every time]), so we clinked our glasses, which happen to be extra clinky in Vietnam since the beer is always served with a large block of ice in the mug.

Now, at least in my experience, one only says cheers before the first drink. I suppose I should have explained this concept to Thanh because, for at least another 15 minutes, every time I picked up my mug to take a drink, Thanh promptly grabbed his mug, raised his glass and said, “cheers!” I would quickly divert my mug away from my mouth and act if I were simply drawing my beer back a bit in order raise it with extra gusto before toasting again…and again…and again. I just didn’t have the heart to correct him.

The rest of the meal was fairly uneventful as we had a curry dish with tofu, but sometimes eating can be a little more difficult, which is largely my fault due to my eating habits. As Khue said the first time we ate together, “You are a veterinarian, yes?”

It took me a couple of seconds, but then I recalled that I had previously informed her that I am, in fact, a vegetarian, hence the dining challenges.

Thanh and his family, in particular, don’t seem to get it. One night we were eating spring rolls, and Xuan put an item that was clearly in the meat family in my first (of what eventually be approximately twenty rolls placed on my plate) spring roll.

“What is it?” I asked as politely as possible.

The grandfather immediately jumped in and shouted, “Vietnamese HOT dog!!” He was so delighted with his joke that his face broke into smile and out tumbled that incredible laugh of his, so I had to laugh as well.

Another time Thanh offered me what appeared to be a small meatball. I asked what was in it. As he placed it on my plate, he told me rice and vegetables. As I sat looking at the small round object, I thought to myself, “Sir, the color of this victual is pink. Clearly, there is meat in it.” I try to be a good sport though, so I took a tiny bite.

“There’s no meat?” I inquired.

“Yes, pork. You can eat?”

Sigh.
The situation reminds me of living in France with my host family. They were also incredibly kind and generous, but here is a semi-English translation of the first conversation I had with Madame Maitrepierre concerning my eating habits:

Mme Maitrepierre: I fixed dinner tonight. We are having a Cambodian chicken dish.
Me: Madame, I am so sorry to be difficult, but I am a vegetarian. The noodles and vegetables look wonderful, though, so I will eat those.
Mme Maitrepierre: Mais non, it’s ok. It’s chicken.
Me: Oui, madame, but I am a vegetarian.
Mme Maitrepierre: Well…you can eat it. It is a very small chicken after all.
Me: Oui, madame.

I don’t want to be impolite, but it’s been so long that I’ve eaten meat that I worry about getting sick if I do eat a large portion, especially here because…well, I will spare you the details, but I have been to the meat market.

I have eaten plenty of tasty non-meat treats like fresh pineapple dipped in chili flavored salt; all sorts of sticky rice concoctions; a wide array of homemade soups; roasted, fried and steamed banana; Vietnamese pancakes.

There are also some items that are not quite meat that I am willing to try. For example, Alice and I recently went out for a snake (not steak) dinner, because, well, what other time will I have the chance to sample snake? It tastes like chicken, by the way.

I can also do frog and snails. Before becoming a vegetarian I had sampled snail, but they were quite petite. The snails here, however, are some big honking, juicy snails. It takes just about everything I’ve got to keep smiling as I chew away.

Then there are the eggs. One evening I walked in the kitchen and found the family eating dinner. They offered me what appeared to be a hard boiled egg. I wandered across the kitchen and peered over Xuan’s shoulder. “Hmm, that’s odd,” I thought to myself, “that hard boiled egg looks strange.”

That’s when it hit me. I had read that a Vietnamese delicacy is duck egg. This does not mean that when you crack the egg open, a yolk comes pouring out that just happens to be from a duck instead of a chicken. We are talking about a fully formed baby duck embryo, sometimes, as I understand it, feathers are included.

I had worried about the duck egg before arriving. I had imagined myself happily preparing some scrambled eggs when, as I crack the egg open, out tumbles a feeble duckling. Upon landing in the frying pan, it gives me a forlorn look with its big, sad eyes and emits one last feeble “quaaaack…”.

Thanh interrupted this flashback when he asked eagerly, “you try?”

I looked again at Xuan digging right into that egg with a spoon and a big smile on her face as she amicably raised it toward me.

Now, I know I’m going to get called out because on an earlier post I was all about trying new and different things. Like I said, I generally do try most things. I had to turn down the duck egg experience, though. For some reason, snake and snails I can stomach, but baby duck falls in the dog meat realm. If other people enjoy it, more power to them. I personally can’t handle it.

“That’s alright, I said, I’m not hungry. “
I did feel a little guilty about declining his offer, but I’ll have to let it go. After all, I am a veterinarian….cheers to that.

Picture 1: Learning how to make bahn chuoi, or banana cake…at least what the Vietnamese call banana cake. Really all they let me do was smash the banana with that machete-esque knife, but that was great fun.

Pictures 2 and 3: My new favorite fruit…to eat and to say…It’s called chom chom. My Vietnamese friends tell me the English word for it is rambutan. I told them I wouldn’t know as I’ve never seen nor heard of it before arriving here.

Picture 4: Vietnamese pancake. Generally there is pork and shrimp inside.

Another Trip

Last week Khue had to visit Heifer project participants to prepare her newsletter. I finally received permission from the local authorities to visit the projects, so I tagged along.

Since the project with which I’m involved has nothing to do with livestock or agriculture, I was thrilled to finally visit some traditional Heifer projects. Not only because I have followed Heifer and its work for so long, but also because, as some people know better than others, my project has been a little frustrating at times. This is largely due to the fact that the handicraft workshop is a completely new project area for Heifer Viet Nam, so it will take time before it can run smoothly. Conversely, Heifer Viet Nam excels in integrated and sustainable agriculture. Sustainable agriculture focuses on ensuring a farm’s ability to produce food indefinitely without harming its surrounding environment. Integrated agriculture essentially means that the project participants use every piece of their farming outfit. For example, the cow manure is used to fertilize fruits and vegetables they grow and also to raise earthworms. The earthworms can also act as fertilizer and be fed to chickens and geese. The chicken coop may be built above a fish pond, so that the fish can eat the chicken droppings that fall into the pond, etc.

I visited a dairy cow project and a swine project. These programs are truly accomplishing the goals that they aim to achieve. During my trip, I was reminded of something a Heifer employee once told me: Most people associate Heifer with animals, which is how the organization initially attracts supporters. However, Heifer is really about people. The income that the animals bring into families provides them with countless tangible assets such as a greater amount of protein and income to pay for better housing, clothing, etc. In addition, the income from Heifer projects often has an amazing trickle down affect that into education and gender equity.

For example, before joining the Heifer Project, Ms. Len said that she was ashamed about often asking her relatives for rice and monetary loans. She has now been involved in the dairy cow project for 3 years. Because of her hard work and involvement with Heifer, Ms. Len can give her son fresh milk each day, buy his school supplies and add meat and fish to her family’s meals.

In addition, Ms. Len has also gained self-assurance and self-respect. Since joining the Heifer project, she told us with a smile that she has not once asked her relatives for financial support. Furthermore, three years ago, she said she rarely voiced her opinion. During the monthly Heifer project participant meetings, however, she gradually began sharing her ideas and offering advice to her neighbors. She soon became known as the local expert on dairy cows. Her neighbors greatly respected her knowledge and her concern for others. The members of the cooperative recently recognized Ms. Len’s expertise in animal husbandry by electing her the vice-president of the cooperative.

A woman who 3 years ago did not know how to put food on the table, now provides three full meals a day for her family, was recently able to purchase a bike for her son to travel to school and plays an important leadership role in her community.

In another village, I met Ms. Sau who is raising pigs. Since joining the project, Ms. Sau has used her additional income to pay for her son’s high school education (the Vietnamese government only provides five years of free public schooling). While I was sitting in her home, she pulled out a certificate. Khue told me that the certificate recognizes Ms. Sau’s son for receiving the third highest GPA in his class last semester. When she sells 6 piglets next month, she will have saved enough money to pay for their son’s tuition at Can Tho University in the fall.

A few minutes later, her son came home. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the look on his mother’s face as he practiced English with me. There is no real point in trying to describe it. I do not possess the words to convey well enough the pride that beamed from her eyes and immensity of the smile that stretched across her face. I had to clench my teeth to keep my eyes dry and continue to smile.

Heifer International would not function without the cows, pigs, bees, rabbits, goats and chickens, but Heifer is most certainly about people and not animals. I felt privileged to interact with families that, until that point, had only read about online or in the Heifer magazine. Furthermore, I was once again blown away by the hospitality extended to me. In each home that I entered I was not only welcomed with warm smiles and Vietnamese greetings, but also with a cup of coffee or a coconut they had just cracked open. Ms. Nhu used a micro-credit loan from Heifer to purchase some Vietnamese strawberry trees whose fruit she sells in the market. Just before I left, she went out to one of those trees. She cut a huge bunch off and then placed them in my purse.

She placed them in my purse. My purse with the digital camera. My purse with the cell phone. My purse with the ipod. My purse with the boarding pass from my little pleasure trip from the weekend before. She put part of her livelihood in my purse, the contents of which amounted to more than she makes in a year.

I knew that I couldn’t refuse this gift. She was happy to share what she had, especially, since, a couple of years ago, she may not have been able to do so. I said thank you and sampled one of the strawberries.

It turns out that the Vietnamese strawberry is like many other Vietnamese fruits in that after going through the hassle of peeling it, you find that the fruit is tasty, but then bite down on a huge pit that is larger than the amount of fruit surrounding it. As I stood there eating the strawberry, I didn’t know exactly what to think or to feel. As I mentioned above, the efforts of Heifer and similar organizations to empower people and the subsequent hard work of the project participants has, in fact, provided wonderfully sweet rewards for those involved. Still, as I stood in front of her house with the thatched walls, the dirt floor and no indoor plumbing, there was a Vietnamese strawberry pit in my mouth and an even bigger pit in my stomach because the disparity between her life and mine overwhelmed me. There are so many positive things taking place, but there is still so much more left to do.

So, I’m totally going to copycat Chandle here and encourage everybody to do what you can. When you do your holiday shopping this year, go to http://www.heifer.org/ and buy an animal in someone’s name. If you are like Dr. Baldwin and have already purchased all of your holiday gifts, then go to http://www.cwish.org.np/. Children-Women in Social Service and Human Rights (CWISH) is an organization working for women’s and children’s rights in Nepal. Chandle, who despite a parasite, has been doing amazing things there this summer on child labor issues. They have a sponsorship program and, by giving approximately $20-25/month, you can provide a child with a place to stay, food to eat, school tuition, and immediately stop that child from working. The child you sponsor will send you letters throughout the year.

If you don’t have money, then go to your local Boys & Girls Club or any other organization you prefer and donate your time. If you don’t have time or money, then just share what you know, because, like Chandle says, awareness is important.

If we can all work together, then slowly but surely we can bridge the gaps that exist in this world so that everyone not only has food, water and shelter, but can also have access to a solid education, a sense of dignity, a safe working environment with a fair salary, and the enjoyment of the fruits of their labor.

Picture 1: Mr. Anh and one of his new piglets.
Picture 2: Crossing the bridge to Mr. Anh’s house [Dad, don’t look at this one :-)]
Picture 3: Khanh’s certificate from school recognizing his academic achievements.
Picture 4: Lua. Her family participates in the Binh Thuy beef cattle project. Just try and tell me that smile is not worth working hard for.

P.S. If you want to learn more about integrated agriculture in Vietnam, pick up the latest issue of World Ark, the Heifer International magazine. The cover story is about Heifer Viet Nam’s work in integrated agriculture...alright, I'm stepping off of my soapbox now. Thanks for reading.

Dreamy Dalat

I stole away to Dalat this past weekend. It’s only about a 45 minute plane ride from Ho Chi Minh City, but there’s still that pesky 4 hour bus ride between Can Tho and HCMC. It was a quick trip, but, as I’ve already told a couple of people, I’m not going to travel half-way across the world and stay in one place the whole time.

Dalat is in the central highlands of Vietnam. It was a favorite spot of the French in the first half of the 20th-century because of its cool temperatures. I actually needed my gray hoodie and didn’t have it with me for once!

Dalat is known for the mountains, lakes and waterfalls that make up the city’s landscape. It is also famous for its strawberries, flowers, wine, hot soy milk and pastries…so it is a happy place…very touristy, but happy.

I tried all of the edible items mentioned above and visited the local Chinese pagoda, some of the waterfalls and lakes and the botanical gardens. I also visited Lat Village, a local ethnic minority village, which is about 12 km from Dalat. I sampled some of the wine that they make in large jars, which you drink out of with a tube. I saw some of the women weaving, a traditional Lat handicraft, as well. I had a motorbike guide take me to the village. I learned that one of his favorite rock songs is Night Ranger’s “When You Close Your Eyes.” I know this not only because he told me, but also because he began singing it for me on the way back to town.

I stayed in the fabulous Dreams Hotel. The women who owns it is great, and I met some fun kids from the US, France and Sweden who were also staying there as well. For $10 a night, I got a queen-sized bed, a private shower with hot water, TV, free internet access and a full breakfast including eggs made to order. Gotta’ love it!

I don’t have a lot of time to write, but there are some pictures up above!

Picture 1: Datanla Falls

Picture 2: Dalat landscape

Picture 3: Dalat orchids

Picture 4: Buddha at the local pagoda

Picture 5: Drinking wine Dalat style

Frogs and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

Alright, anyone who has been reading this thing knows how cheesy and cliché I can be, so I’m not going to stop now. I’d just like to say how much I love traveling and cultural differences.

Now don’t get me wrong. I definitely have my moments when I think that if I have to witness one more person hawking a huge spit ball on the sidewalk, I will scream. Furthermore, there are some differences with which I will never be comfortable, particularly concerning work, but I may have to write about those on other day. Right now, however, I’m talking about the differences that make life interesting…in a good way, as Isha would say.

For instance, sampling street food, or perhaps visiting projects in different provinces by riding 75 kilometers in a xe loi across paved and unpaved roads, but loving the open air and learning all about the driver’s family. Even the part of the trip that takes place during the down pour is amusing, since two extra passengers whom you happened to meet on the ferry (and were kind of enough to have their picture taken with Flat Stanley) ask to pile in and be dropped off at their house. You have room and the driver pulls out the complimentary plastic tarp, so why not?

Another example was a couple of weekends ago. Thanh’s family commemorated the anniversary of his grandfather’s death. On Saturday morning, the whole extended family came over and spent the entire morning cooking. We then went upstairs, placed several different dishes in front of his grandfather’s portrait, lit incense, made the sign of the cross, chanted a prayer, and then headed back downstairs to a feast laid out on the kitchen floor. We then proceeded to throw back some Vietnamese pancakes, snails, fish sauce and whiskey at 10:30am. A little bit of American culture was thrown in as well, since the grandfather and I did take in some of WWF Smackdown as is the usual Saturday custom. East or west, it’s always a party with Jack Daniels and Stone Cold Steve Austin.

As another example, a few weeks ago Khue, Truc and I visited different handicraft workshops throughout the Mekong Delta. For part of our trip, a Heifer project partner accompanied us. They were carrying on in Vietnamese, so I had tuned out until I heard laughter. I looked over at Khue for an explanation. She hesitated, but then said, “Mr. Hai was telling us about one of the village groups here. They originally agreed to work with Heifer to raise pigs, but then they changed their minds and wanted to know if they could raise dogs instead.”

Her face was filled with expectation as she waited for my reaction. “Oh, Khue…,” I said, “You mean for the meat?”

“Well,” she responded, “the cute ones could be sold as pets, perhaps, but the not so cute ones….You know dog meat is very popular in Vietnam.”

I did know this. I have seen the restaurants. I knew that some people were forced to eat it out of necessity especially following 1975, and many people today simply like the taste. Although people here have gotten snail down me, I don’t think that I could mentally handle dog meat.

After recovering from the initial shock, it occurred to me that one thing for which Heifer is famous is working within the cultural context of a country. “Khue, would Heifer Viet Nam let people raise dogs to be used as…a source of income?” I asked.

“Well, this group decided to stick with the pigs, but, I don’t know, it might be possible,” she said.

Then another thought struck me. I love visiting the Heifer web site to choose a flock of ducks or tree saplings to give as gifts. It is fun to learn how the animals help families and to see a picture of a child holding a baby chicken or something of that nature. Here’s an example of the information the web site provides:

Sheep: Shear Joy
“…Struggling families use sheep's wool to make clothes, or sell it for extra income….”

I now imagined a new addition to the Heifer website: a basket of bright eyed, floppy eared puppies. I imagined loyal Heifer customers clicking on the link to read about why in the world puppies would now be included in the gift section and seeing the looks on their faces as they read:

Puppies: More than Just Man’s Best Friend
“Faithful canines not only provide companionship, but are also a source of much needed protein…”

I really don’t mean to offend any animal lovers (i.e. my sisters), and I’m not making fun of people who eat dog meat. Still, I couldn’t help laughing as I explained my marketing idea to Khue and Truc. More importantly, I couldn’t help but be amazed yet again by the differences between cultures and the variety they can impart to life. They make you thankful for the spice they can add to your life [just like Mr. Antonio says, K :-)], but also make you appreciate the aspects of your life that provide a certain sense of security resulting from the familiarity that is your day to day existence.

It reminds me of the final scene in Adam’s Rib when Katherine Hepburn’s character [who, for those of you who don’t know, is not as attractive as my grandmother Lu Lu, but does resemble her :-) ]concedes that there is a difference between men and women. Spencer Tracey’s character replies, “Vive la difference!” which, he goes on to explain, means “hurrah for that little difference.”

I wholeheartedly agree…hurrah for all of those little differences.

I also love the literal translation of the phrase as well: live the difference. If the opportunity presents itself, I think it’s important to live the differences. I don’t flatter myself by thinking that just because I am staying in Vietnam for a few weeks I have a profound understanding of the culture. I will never be anything but a tourist. Nonetheless, I value all the people who are willing to answer my litany of questions and “introduce me” to their culture. While I may not adopt the customs to which I’m introduced while I’m in Vietnam, I like to think that when I return, I will at least appreciate that the differences exist.

So vive la difference. Live the differences and let the differences live. They make life a million times richer.

Picture 1: The xe loi Khue and I took from Ben Tre to Vinh Long. Xe lois are pulled from the front by a motorbike. They are unique to the Mekong Delta.
Picture 2: Flat Stanley and I in a cyclo in Ho Chi Minh City. The driver pedals from the back.
Picture 3: Some nice gentlemen repairing my tire. For anyone who’s counting, I’m on flat tire #5.
Picture 4: Supermaket parking lot.

P.S. Here’s a tip of the week from me (à la Glenda Schmidt): When you’re in the supermarket parking lot detangling your bike, watch out for the tail pipes of motorbikes. They are extremely hot and will burn a hole in your leg if you’re not careful.

Rainy Day Woman

First a few quick updates:

• It’s not so much of an update since I’ve already told most people, but, for those I haven't told, almost five years after the original ring-pop proposal in front of the Vegas Fat Burger, a real engagement took place a couple of weeks ago, so congratulations, Isha and Mark!!
• I finished my product recommendation report, and we think we found a great embroidery trainer who is willing to teach at our center.
• Last Friday night Alice and I found a restaurant that serves pizza…real, honest-to-god pizza and beer. Hooray!
• Mr. Thanh and some of his family members took me to the floating market in Cai Rang last Sunday. All of the vendors sell their merchandise directly from their boats and you simply pull up along side in your boat to buy your goods. I just so happened to get some great footage of some fruit sellers, Mr. J.B.
  
  Ok, so it is the rainy season in Vietnam. This means that the mosquitoes are now out in full force. In addition, sometimes the rain interferes with work when your motorbike gets stuck in the mud on the way to the workshop and you have to get it unstuck and then attempt to find an alternate route, but end up an a bone-rattling 45-minute jaunt through what can only be described as the jungle.
  
  When you’re in Can Tho City, however, it’s great fun to see the traffic pattern the minute the skies open up. All of the bicycles, motorbikes and xe lois simultaneously veer to the side of the road, (I believe this is what is suppose to happen when an ambulance comes through) so their respective drivers can pull their rain gear out of their back packs or out from under the seats of their motorbikes.
  
  The rain gear is best described as a rain cape rather than a rain jacket, so everyone resembles superheroes pedaling through the streets as the back flap of the cape flails about in the wind. The front of the rain capes is large enough to be draped across the front of your vehicle to protect whatever items you happen to toting in your basket and the back flap is expansive enough to go over a backpack or even a second person who may be riding on the back of the motorbike or bike so that that passenger essentially becomes a piece of cargo.
  
  Incidentally, I have discovered a new trust building activity that Camp Clinton organizers may want to consider. Instead of the climbing wall at the Heifer Ranch, I suggest renting several motorbikes. Two students should be placed on each bike. The student driving the motorbike should wear the rain cape and the student in the back should take the back flap and place it over his or her head so that he or she can no longer see. They should then drive into a crazy amount of traffic and see how long it takes the second student to scream, remove the flap from their head, and/or jump from the bike. I promise that you never know how much you trust your friend until riding with her on the back of a motorbike unable to see anything and only hearing the sound of other vehicles whizzing by, the screeching of breaks and her shouting Vietnamese expletives.
  
  But I digress.
  
  Honestly, the rainy season hasn’t been nearly as rainy as I expected. The rain can be intense, but, for the most part, it is of a short duration. It often rains either at noon or right at 5:oopm when everyone is headed home. If it rains at lunch time, most people can avoid it because the Vietnamese begin lunch around 11:00am, take a siesta, and then return to the office at around 1:30pm. Generally after it rains once during a 24 hour period, it will not rain again until the following day.
  
  Or so I thought.
  
  A couple of weeks ago I was downtown at a coffee shop. It had already rained once during my time there, and the sun had returned. I packed up my bag and started on the 20 minute bike ride home.
  
  About 2 minutes later, the sky darkened, thunder rumbled and down came the rain. I pulled over and donned my lavender rain cape. Unfortunately, an awful lot of wind accompanied this particular storm so my rain gear really wasn’t keeping me all that dry. The wind also complicated things because it’s somewhat difficult to balance a bike with a massive bookbag on my back, my purse in the front basket along with a 1.5 liter water bottle, and strong gusts of wind.
  
  It wouldn’t have been quite so hard to balance, but for extra fun that day, I had worn a skirt. I was desperately trying pull it back down each time a gust of wind blew it up to inappropriate levels. This, however, was also extra challenging since I was trying to hold the front part of the rain cape onto the handle bars so that, 1) it was more difficult to see that the wind was raising my skirt and 2) my purse (with my camera and phone inside) did not get soaked. The problem with trying to cover your basket with your cape is that, if you do not hold it tight enough, the cape becomes a receptacle of sorts and begins to fill with a small pool of water that just might end up on your face as a large gust of wind comes along when you are trying to pour the water off to the side.
  
  But wait, there’s more. Naturally, the rain cape is not long enough to cover one’s feet. It is amazing how quickly the pot holes in the street fill up with muddy water. Therefore, when you ride over them the water splashes over your flip flops. You really can’t do anything but laugh as you continue to peddle home knowing how ridiculous you look and that your attempt to keep dry is absolutely futile. Thank God I like to laugh.
  
  The icing on the cake is when you finally pull up to the house and realize just how much you resemble a drowned cat when you see the expressions of your host family. If I’d had enough time, I would have snapped a photo of their aghast faces, but they moved into action too quickly, sliding the doors open, ushering me inside, and even mopping up after me as they insisted that I hurry to my room to change.
  
  Generally, I prefer the sunshine, but the rainy days here have definitely made me grateful not only for the cooler temperatures they bring, but also for the people who help me out on those rainy days.

Picture 1: Truc and Alice on the way home from work as the rain begins.

Picture 2: Typical Vietnamese homes along the riverside.

Picture 3: The floating market from really far away. I promise that I have better video.

Moving Right Along

Things are moving right along in Vietnam. I have successfully mastered riding the motorbike side-saddle across the bumpy dirt path to the workshop and pot-hold filled alleys. This is excellent news because it means that I can wear skirts more often, which, given the day time heat, are five million and half times cooler than wearing jeans.

Truc bought me my very own set of long gloves and a face mask to wear around town. I’m getting somewhat accustomed to them. I do have to say that they are nice because when I wear them I am not as conspicuous, and it cuts down on the stares.

I’m getting to know my colleagues a little bit better. When I first arrived, I took some time to learn about other people’s roles so I could gain a better understanding of how the project office functions. As I later discovered, several people assumed that, since I was from Little Rock, I was from Heifer HQ. They were scared of me because they thought that I was there to evaluate them. Now that they understand that I am just a student, all is well.

I do have to say that I love the Asian custom of leaving your shoes at the door. I have often kicked my shoes off under my desk at previous jobs and at school. However, at Heifer Viet Nam I am expected to walk around barefoot. Somehow, I think certain administrators probably don’t appreciate me forgetting to slip my shoes back on and padding around the break room in bare feet as guests come through touring the school. It really doesn’t help dispel that myth Arkansans still do not wear shoes.

Random jobs have been coming up at work. For example, I’ve been editing the newsletter and reports that go to HQ. I actually spent the majority of last week out of the office traveling through different provinces looking at other handicraft workshops and meeting with agencies that work with persons with disabilities. We even went up to Ho Chi Minh City for a couple of days. Khue and I had some free time on Thursday night, and the road trip in and of itself was fun. I learned that she enjoys English children’s songs and Christmas carols. I think we were probably the only vehicle driving through the Mekong Delta to a soundtrack of off-key versions of “Three Blind Mice” and “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.” [This made me happy, though, as it reminded me of singing Disney songs during early morning trips to Pancake Pantry :-) ]

I am now living with an incredibly generous Vietnamese family. They won’t stop feeding me! Thanh studied English at university. His favorite phrase is “I introduce you.” This could be referring to locations throughout Can Tho, any number of food items or one of his many cousins, sisters, brothers-in-law, nieces, etc who are often at the house. His wife, Xuan, speaks a little English as well. They have a one-year-old son, Nhan. His nickname is Bin, which means energy, and he is the cutest thing ever.

Thanh’s parents also live with them. The grandmother does not speak English at all, but the grandfather knows a few words in English such as “Grandson!” when he holds up and proudly points to Bin. His new favorite phrase to say to me is, “BBC dot com,” which is then followed by his infectious belly laugh that tumbles out of his mouth and fills the entire room. They get the BBC at their home because Thanh likes to watch it in order to improve his listening skills. Until recently, they thought the internet address was BBC drop com. They are all clear now, but it’s a favorite household joke.

So both the Americans and the Vietnamese are making progress in different ways. In fact, my most recent gain, or so I thought, is related to chopsticks. When I first arrived and attempted to use chopsticks, I was well-aware that I resembled Edward Scissorhands at the dinner table. However, I remarked to Khue just the other day that I really think I have improved. A couple of nights later when several us were enjoying another meal with mass quantities of food, Dr. Loc looked earnestly at me and said, “You use chopsticks like my grandson.” His grandson is 5.

Well, things are moving right along, but I still have a long way to go in more ways than one. I’m trying to enjoy the ride, though!

Picture 1: This is Bin. We are learning Vietnamese together. He is far more advanced than I.

Picture 2: By request, this is a picture of Flat Stanley on the back of Khue's motorbike. For those of you who do not know about Flat Stanley, you can visit http://www.clintonschool.uasys.edu/news-events/detail.aspx?id=132 to learn more.