To Those of You Who Can't Sleep at Night (pt. 2)

I hope that the last post didn't drop off too much yesterday. I was absolutely exhausted, and I've been running over sentences in my head, wondering if they made sense or not. Anyway, here's the second part of the blog (and my day).

12-12:30

We eat lunch at the same house everyday. It is probably a 20-25 minute bike ride away from the house we are building, but we can usually cut it down to about 15, given the rabid hunger that sets in around 10:30.
The old woman that cooks for us is very sweet, and I think we call her Ba Bay, which translates to "Mother 7". We have still yet to meet mothers 1-6, but I'm sure they're delightful.
The food ranges from soup with potatoes and carrots to duck eggs (I've been passing on those) to beef with pineapples (a favorite of ours); however, it is the tea that we all bike so quickly for. It's not that it's particularly delicious, but given our dehydrated condition, it is Godly nectar. Mother 7's grandchildren are responsible for refilling our rapidly emptied cups, and they do a wonderful job with it - though the ice-bearing grandchild is a bit overzealous with his duty and will often place a large prism of ice on top of an already overflowing cup. It's a nice gesture, and we always thank him regardless.

12:30-2:00

Something that we do not do (though we should) in the United States is nap in the afternoons. Work hard in the morning, nap for just a bit, and then pick right back up and finish the day. I may start a campaign for the mid-afternoon nap once I'm back.

Anyway, this is my absolute favorite time of the day. We bike from Mother 7's house back to the main road where there is an open-air coffee shop that makes my heart and soul swell with happiness.

Basically, it is a glorified shed with plastic chairs and plastic tables (meant for children and their tea parties). But to describe it as just a shed with chairs and tables would be missing the point. It is a gathering place. People gather around long tables (plastic ones, set end to end) and drink heavenly coffees (1/2 coffee, 1/2 condensed milk...I keep trying to tell myself that that feeling creeping through my heart is love and not an artery being clogged*)
*A quick note to my mom: That last sentence is purely metaphorical, so no worries about things creeping in my heart. I'm fine, and I miss you :)
And when I say that people gather, it is remarkable the variety of people that come. Everyone from local party members to the local pop star diva (I wish I could explain...) gather here for coffee.
Truly, the place makes me want to open a restaurant that could draw the variety of people that this place does.

Unfortunately, our feelings of intense happiness and relaxation, prove incredibly hard to pull away from as 2 draws nearer and nearer. The cafe - as wonderful as it is - is a bit like the island of the lotus eaters in the Odyssey. It's damn near impossible to leave.

2:00-4:00

Susie, Hieu, and I teach English in the afternoons to a group (ranging from 8 students to 35) of elementary-aged students (ages 2-11). We've been teaching basic phrases, lots of colors, and playing lots of games as well. It's a lot of fun, though completely exhausting. Our classroom is a brick-floored, un-air conditioned sauna with two columns of about 6 long desks each.

The left side of the classroom is nearly all girls (all of whom are perfectly brilliant), while the right side is a mixture of indifferent boys, Danh the wonderboy, 2 year olds, and Dat.

Dat didn't come to class for the first week until about Thursday. Class was quiet and lessons orderly. Hands were raised. Questions were answered. Pictures were drawn. English was taught.

Then last Thursday afternoon, a 3 foot tall 5 to 7 year old with a white and blue baseball cap entered our class...

Most of our teaching consists of initially writing words and phrases up on the board and having the kids repeat what we say. It goes a little like this.

Tom: Ok, now can you say "I am fine, thank you"?
Class (with bristling enthusiasm): I am fine thank you!
Dat: BA!

Generally, one on one attention is the best for him, as he is incredibly well behaved in these settings.
Tom: Ok, let's say..."My"
Dat (with doe eyes and turtle lips): My
Tom: "name..."
Dat (Growing quieter, gentler, and cuter): Name
Tom (Becoming encouraged...showing encouragement with eyes and head slightly raised): "is..."
Dat (beginning to crack a smile, though still growing quieter): Is...
Tom (inwardly ecstatic): Dat
Dat (unsure of what's going on, yet encouraged by delighted look on teacher's face): Dat
Tom: Yes! Great! Wonderful job!
Tom begins to turn with smug confidence.
Dat (Kicking Tom's shin and screaming with renewed vitality): BA!

Regardless, we have a blast. Older boys, parents, and old dogs all will gather in the door from time to time. It's nice.

4:00-6:00

I race back to my bicycle to ride back to town. Now, the cows are out on the side of the road - their paddies, lining the roads. Dogs bring their erotic activities out in front of cars with horns blaring. And children - with seemingly inexhaustible enthusiasm - rush out to the road to scream, "Hallo!"

...to which we reply, "Hallo!"

The sky is open and the clouds are dramatic, reminding me of laughing crocodiles and baby elephants playing with beach balls. It's a nice Eden up there, and I slow down my pedaling to enjoy the scenery.

When I arrive back to the hotel, I am dripping with sweat (have been all day) and hop in the bathroom for a brain-freezingly and nipple-hardingly cold shower. I usually hate cold showers, but here...here, they are magic.

6:00-7:00

Dinner in the carport. Anything and everything is delicious at this point. Though, the meal becomes even more delightful when Samson offers me one of his frozen choco-pies (think smaller moon pies). Chocolate smears across my teeth, and I am in heaven.

7:00-9:00/1:00

The rest of the night depends on our exhaustion, though typically, it does include me imaginging the possibilities of life on a boat with a tiger (I'm reading Life of Pi, which is quite delightful), playing card games, drinking Vietnamese beer, laughing (a lot), debating every possible human rights/current issue of the day, swatting mosquitoes (is there an "e" in there?), and eventually passing out from thinking about how exhausting the next day will be.

If you're up, send some thoughts my way. I promise you, I'm probably sending them right back.

Sleep well. Will write pretty soon. Back in Saigon in about a week.

Can't wait to see y'all,
tom