Say my name say my name

On a lighter note from the last blog, and still in the personal range. I used to hate my name. I hated it hated it hated it. Yen is great. Nuh-gock is not. Nor is Dwong. But then I came here.



Everytime I say my full name to someone, they say it's a beautiful name. Duong Ngoc Yen. (Yu-ung Nghup Ee-en is the best I can to write it phonetically) The director of the national math institute told me that it's the name of a beautiful woman very skilled at martial arts and poetry in Chinese folklore. After seeing my grandfather's grave with Duong An engraved on the headstone and thinking about my dad, who was an only child, I realize that I haven't given Duong enough credit, because I'm so close to my mother's side of the family, the Hos. But I love and am proud of my name, and of being a Viet Kieu and having different ways of pronouncing it. I prefer the Vietnamese sound for my middle and last names.



Speaking of being a Viet Kieu, more on that. I have a definite advantage now because I know more Vietnamese, but even if you don't you're still welcomed back to the home country. People are generally very excited to meet me and talk with a Viet Kieu My (American overseas Vietnamese). We get the Vietnamese, not the tourist, pricing, and extra friendliness and real conversations because we're Viet Kieu. That also means that some tourists think we're Vietnamese from VN and treat us as such, which is... interesting. Especially when people speak louder and slower in hopes that I'll understand more e.g. "do you know LAKE? Hon Kim LAKE?" "Well actually it's called Hoan Kiem lake, named after the restored sword in the legend, and it's down this street and hang a left. Bye."



Then there are many other tourists who love talking with me because I've got an inner look at Vietnamese culture; I've been to houses and chatted with shopkeepers etc. And there are many Vietnamese who aren't as friendly to Viet Kieu too. We're in between: Vietnamese know we aren't Vietnamese from VN, and foreigners think we are. It is a home but not my home, it is a unique experience which is great, but then makes it harder because we relate with neither group but with ourselves alone.



Hungary in a week! I was definitely not expecting myself to keep blogging.

Heartwrenching homecoming

I've been trying to write this blog since coming to VN like I did in France, but it's too personal here. This is my home country, and it's my first time coming back. I've walked the street my dad used to walk with his cousin to school everyday at dawn, I've floated along the river my mother swam in as a child. I've visited her university, his old house, her cousins, his half-siblings. I've seen things in Vietnam that neither of them have seen and done things neither of them have done. I so wish that my first time here could've been with them, so that I could hear their stories as we made new ones together. Instead I'm here alone, meeting family I never knew I had and making close friends knowing we can never fully understand each other because they cannot understand the part of this sentence preceding 'and'.

I don't know how to write this blog- so much goes on, but there's so much to say about the emotions here. So much more than my previous trip. I wish my parents were here, but I've got a teddy bear and box of tissues instead.

It all started the Saturday morning I went to Cai Rang floating market and my mother's village at 7 am, and I felt a huge lump in my throat as my students from Cai Rang told me to tell my mom about the new bridge, and how that special tree was torn down to widen the main road, and how big the town is now. All I could think was that I wish I didn't have to tell her, I wished she was there with me and telling me about what it was like when she was a little girl growing up among the sampans in a clear blue river and wobbly bridges and a smaller street.

The rest of the week was a blur of class and enjoying my new motorbike, and then I went to Phu Quoc, Vietnam's largest island, for a long weekend with five of my students. It was a few hours of bus and then a few hours of boat and then we were at our resort for a rainy beach weekend full of motorbiking and touristy things. First off, I don't do well in large groups. I prefer travelling by myself or with one other person, with the whole independent thing. Second, for my entire life I've been called chau, em, con, and occasionally chi (niece, little sister, child, or big sister). But Vietnamese culture respects teachers, so I spent a weekend being called co (teacher) and getting way too much attention. Third, again, I missed my parents, especially when I turned around in the ferry and saw all these elderly Vietnamese men laughing at the comedy we were watching and I thought about my dad's smile and wished I could share this experience with him.

It was a heartfelt, heartbreaking, and wonderful weekend. My students now know about this blog and they already know how I feel about being taken care of. We went to so many places and had such a cool time together, pearl farms, night markets, sea eagle sanctuary, old US military prison museum, beaches, motorbiking everywhere on rutty fun roads and taking lots of pictures. Shared a lot of personal experience, memories, and thoughts and heard a lot which has changed my perspective in many ways (which no, are not being shared here).

These are things I need to write about: Vietnamese massages, parties at students houses, attitudes towards drinking, attitudes towards children, pizza in Can Tho, the expat lifestyle, finally visiting my grandfather's grave and being the first of his grandchildren to light incense for him, motorbikes, eating out in Can Tho, Vietnamese junk food, well-meaning but misunderstanding extended family, giant class party, karaoke. But right now I need to put the tissues away and sleep. I'll figure out the pictures later.

"This is neither fun nor easy!"

I've made it to my homeland, Can Tho. My mom was born in a village not far from here, so I'm visiting it tomorrow morning at 6 am with my students. There's a big floating market there, called Cho Noi, and I'm pretty excited to see Cai Rang. One of my students is from there and he said he'd take me around.

I was in Saigon for three days. It was cool- more about that city when I go back there in three weeks. Vi and I got to our guesthouse on Sunday afternoon after taking a car and an unexpected ferry ride here- it took about four hours from HCMC. Our guesthouse, which we later nicknamed the Hell House, was essentially the worst possible lodging the university could have given its foreign volunteers. The plumbing kept breaking, we had no fridge (although we had a toaster oven and a sink of cockroaches), the fans worked intermittently (obviously no a/c), and we were missing some walls, as in Vi's bedroom had three walls and a scrim that didn't even cover the hole. Also no internet and holes in the walls (purposeful, for ventilation). It was pretty awesome. We also had a kitty and the university gave us two bicycles.

This week has flown by. Teaching English and the TOEFL is a blast. We both teach two classes, one at 7:30-9:15 and the other 9:30-11:15. At first I was very very nervous, but making lesson plans takes very little time and reading essays and homework is pretty fun. I adore my students, almost all of whom are older than me, who call me Teacher. After the first few days we started hanging out with our students, but the Hell House took a lot of energy out of us. Vi got crazy sick from eating duck fetus egg (after riding on the back of my students' bicycles, an experience from which the title of this post is derived) and on Wednesday I scoped out hotels and we moved into one. We lasted three days in Hell House, but it seemed like so much longer...

After Vi and I get on the backs of Minh and Thuy's bicycles: "See, it's easy to ride on the back of a bicycle? See? Easy! It's fun!"

Several seconds of telling myself I won't die and clutching the seat of a badly wobbling bike in need of air later: "No, Minh! This is neither fun nor easy!"

Possibly the best advice I've received in Can Tho so far: "Just think about what I'm saying! Don't think about the bicycle!"

I hope to rent a motorbike tomorrow. I already have my awesome helmet that Adrian got me in Hanoi, and although I don't have a license I can always pull the "American!" card.

Pictures: me on the back of Minh's bike, the unexpected ferry ride, banh xeo (one of my favorite Vietnamese dishes), hot vit lon (duck fetus egg) in tamarind sauce, Old Man Monkey who sits outside a restaurant that we like, and my room in Hell House. Pretty, isn't it? Looks can be deceiving.

good bye hanoi

I'm leaving in 13 hours for the airport to get out of Hanoi and head to HCMC, where I'll be for a few days before shuttling to Can Tho and starting my teaching English stint. I am crazy sad to be leaving this city, which is sort of a hole anyway, but awesome. I feel very strongly toward Hanoi, toward its traffic and streets and lakes and food and people and buses and xe oms (motorbike taxis) and haggling and markets and libraries and restaurants and my friends, my very good friends I've made during the past almost-month.

I spent the last weekend in the provinces. Well, first on Saturday morning I gave a kickass speech to the American Center English Club at the American Embassy, then we motorbiked out to Bac Ninh, the smallest province in Vietnam just a bit out of Hanoi. Hieu is the slowest, most careful driver I've ever met. It's pretty damn terrifying actually. Passing on the right is the worst idea ever. Anyway, Bac Ninh, or more specifically the village of Que Vo (Huong and Hieu's hometown) is awesome! I learned to plant rice, plow a field with a water buffalo, harvest shrimp, pick rau muong (don't know what its English name is), and drive a motorbike. Oh plus we went to another village, Phu Lang, and I learned how to make do gom, or their traditional pottery. We painted ceramics, put stuff in a kiln, designed pots, and hung out. Oh and I got some tailored Vietnamese shirts for free. Villagers kick ass.

Tourist traps don't. Halong bay is beautiful, but I would've preferred going in an American tour group just so I could know exactly how much I was going to pay beforehand. Oh but we did go paragliding, which was awesome!

I don't fit the clothes here but I needed shorts to learn to motorbike so I now have a fantastic pair of boy shorts. Pockets are freaking amazing!

In sum, I am crazy sad to be leaving my friends from the American Center, IVCE, Duke, Princeton, the hotel, family, and the randoms e.g. library. I had an absolute blast here and my Vietnamese has improved like no other. I'm excited for the future, but sad to be leaving the past behind. Off go more sheets from my page a day calendar of life.

stolen, and a weird dream

My tape recorder is missing. Luckily I have almost all the files I'd recorded on my computer now, but still. It's an expensive-y piece of equipment and a pain to replace. For now I'll just take notes, at least tomorrow with the students. Oops forgot to call the professors... do that tomorrow.

Obviously, I'm not the best at scheduling my time. I'm not used to having nothing to do but what I make myself do. It's very interesting. Plus it'll be tough to adapt to Can Tho, where I'll be teaching classes at set times and all.

Also, I had this crazy dream last night that I'm sure accurately depicts my subconscious reactions to everything going on here and all I've been told throughout my life. It was a continuation from a previous dream a few nights ago, the night I went to Ho Chi Minh's mausoleum to watch the soldier's take down the flag and sing the anthem. In that dream you could only play traditional Vietnamese music in stores, or else the government would censor it. So in most recent dream, I was in my car driving around Hanoi playing pop music, and suddenly Ho Chi Minh's smiling face was beeping projected-like all around me and I got arrested! The jail was very nice, and was actually the British Council room in which I'd seen a debate on Friday night. It was plastered with HCM everywhere, and we prisoners had to paint busts of him. That's it.

Basically, I'm still keeping busy. Trying to be touristy while working, as usual. Hanging out with the Princeton and Duke kids here, and saw Adrian last week too to get my Yale fix in!

Photos: HCM's mausoleum at night, a dragon on a pagoda, silkworms and their silk from the silk village, one of the Princeton Viet roommates and a baby.

Also, while I was bargaining down a price for a motorbike taxi today, the men told me that I'd find it hard to find a husband. Original price: 40000. Final price: 15000.

an uneasy truce

Mr. Daddy long legs gets the back of the toilet. I get the front.

That said, Vietnam is fantastic! I've been here for almost two weeks now, which is hard to believe. My hotel room is quite homey now, with my map on the wall and post-it notes of places, bus routes, people, things to do, etc, and a fridge full of stuff. Lots of delicious food and delicious adventures.

I've been failing at keeping up with myself. I'm supposed to write down everything that happens and everything I observe in order to conduct this anthropology project really well, but I've just been so in the moment. Whenever I have free time I grab my laptop and head to the national library and start typing up notes and journal-y stuff.

Wow.. there's just so much to say that I'm speechless. I've met so many people and done so many things in these past two weeks. I love motorbikes and bought my own helmet yesterday. The rain hits hard and suddenly, but luckily with some warning- you know it'll rain when the sticky humidity gets absurdly oppressive. The heat isn't so bad though. I don't understand how everyone here wears pants all the time and I wear skirts and people stare at me. People stare at me a lot.

People also love me a lot. I speak a lot of Vietlish/French added in just for kicks and giggles. I talk to people a lot more here than I did in France. Have made friends very quickly. A newspaper article was about me. Everyone knows who I am. May be slightly famous. Photo exhibits, museums, temples, libraries, seminars, film screenings, architecture debates, lunches with directors of things, interviews, interviews, research, more interviews, living, living, life. It all moves quite fluidly.

Photos: the lake of the Restored Sword (Ho Hoan Kiem), middle of Hanoi. Me on a motorbike with a math student I interviewed. A cat statue at a monument of sorts. Delicious food at this girl's house.

eek

Better now, after spending the day wandering a few blocks, eating delicious food, taking a terrifying motorbike ride with the guy who works at the front desk to buy a phone, and looking through family photos of people I've never met. Curiously enough, my biggest challenge to living alone so far seems to be the two daddy long legs in the bathroom. Wish to shower, do not know what to do.

Here is a photo of me in my traditional Vietnamese wedding dress and my brother in the limo on the way to his wedding last weekend.