Typhoon, Concert and Shopping

It had been comfortably breezy all day.  The air conditioner wasn't turned on at all and the windows with screens were left open all day.   Then, late on 24 November, it started raining.  It was a steady mist, very pleasant, and the screened windows stayed open all night.

I headed out Sunday morning to do the grocery shopping.  I didn't need my umbrella to get into the taxi, but I did need it when I got out of the taxi and headed into the shopping mall.  I got my shopping done, went to the underground taxi stand and joined the unusually long line to wait for a taxi.  My wait wasn't as long as I anticipated.  I was somewhat surprised at the downpour the taxi pulled.  The driver maneuvered through the traffic and the occasional large puddle.  Once it turned onto the road I live on, the puddles became large ponds and the water level approached the door of the cab.

I believe in perpetuating the stereotype that Americans are good tippers, so this taxi driver was the recipient of my intent.  He cheerily helped carry my bags of groceries through the torrential rain to a covered part of the apartment building. 

This was the typhoon that had been predicted on Friday.  It was the equivalent of a blizzard of rain.  We lack some basic infrastructure here - things like storm drains, holding ponds, well, really, a basic drainage system.  At unusually high tides, many roads are flooded, so during this typhoon, the same systems were taxed.  By early Sunday evening, the Ministry of Education cancelled public school due to the amount of water on the roads (I suspect knowledge about high tides played a part in the decision as well).  By 9:00 that night I'd received notification that my school was cancelled the next day.  The glorious "snow day" was now a "typhoon day".

The next day, the sun came out and like in "The Eency, Weency Spider" ... dried up all the rain.  Well, most of it.  Over 11 inches of rain fell in less than 24 hours.  There are still some places that have large bodies of water that were not there before the typhoon.  I am baffled by the men fishing in them.  Perhaps they don't realize that it is not a body of water that is connected to a source of fish - or maybe at high tide it is. 

We went to a Christmas concert at St. Paul's Convent last weekend.  It was a lovely cathedral that looked just like it was transported from France.  The bizarre part was the uncomfortable heat, despite the enormous fans, while listening to Christmas Carols.  I also felt like it was a new look at parenthood.  There were a number of families present.  Children were plugged into devices, playing games and eating Pringle's potato chips while the remarkable orchestra and the stunning voices performed.

I was grocery shopping yesterday.  The shopping basket isn't nearly as full as it was when I was doing the weekly shopping for a family of 4.  While living in Europe, I was the odd one out with my incredibly loaded shopping cart.  It is much more common for Europeans to shop every day (the fridge just isn't that big).  Consequently, at the check-out lines I frequently received stares and glares of "how-dare-you-buy-so-much-and-take-up-so-much-of-my-time-waiting-for-you-to-get-through-the-checkout-lane". 

Not-so-here - but I also don't find a need to make sure I'm in the shortest line.  I enjoy just watching.   I joined a line where the woman ahead of me had two completely full shopping carts.  It took quite a while to get her items scanned and packed.  I was able to get my items on the conveyor belt without having to wait for the belt to move at all.  I was surprised when the woman ahead of me picked up two items that I had, said something to the cashier, who took the items from her, called for another employee to come, and they had a discussion about something.  I was able to figure out the woman wanted some of these items as well.  I stepped in to explain where I got each item, and off someone went to get some of these for the woman in front of me.  I felt somewhat smug thinking that my careful shopping had helped out this woman AND the store.  Certainly a shopping experience I'd never had before.

Photos:

This is a pillow on a motorbike.  The child would rest his/her head on the pink pillow, perhaps to sleep, definitely to cushion the head from the bouncing while riding.

But First Coffee

New Photos

Last week was the local Terry Fox run - I did not participate, but S2 did.  Last year there were over 17,000 people who participated.  I haven't heard numbers for this year.  There were at least 3,176.

Don't come to Vietnam to avoid Black Friday.

  

Wait a minute!  I thought Black Friday had something to do with Thanksgiving.  I did go to the mall today.  Everything I bought, apart from groceries, was on sale.

Yes, we are embracing Christmas as well.

Advent Calendars

Disney's Magic of Christmas (center stage in the mall - where the yellow happy faces and the Halloween photo shoot was previously)

  

I didn't get this photo taken quickly enough.  The little boy was pointing to Santa just before I took the photo.  Yes, how does a Vietnamese father explain who Santa is to his little boy?

Regardless, my favorite mall find this week was Dinosaur World.  Yes, you can pay to ride those dinosaurs.

But the highlight of the weekend might have been the rooftop showing of "Rocky Horror Picture Show" that we went to.  It was our 2nd date (back in 1981).  The showing started at 7:30, thus it was easily my favorite viewing ever, because I was able to stay awake for the whole thing.

None of the previous showings I've been to included the cues on their own screen.

Things to Think About

Life continues to be fascinating and inspiring.  Could I ask for more?

The view from the rooftop of our building (looking toward District 7 and District 5 beyond)

Two stories today – that will come together eventually.

Parent teacher conferences were three weeks ago.  As usual, when first meeting with parents, I ask, “why do you choose to send your child to this school?”  In my mind, they have a choice.  Nine of my eleven students are Vietnamese, none of them have dual nationality.  There are public schools, countless private Vietnamese schools, and 12 international schools in the city.  I feel it gives me more focus, more purpose, if I understand why parents are choosing to put their 4-year old on a bus for a ride to school that lasts as long as 85 minutes.  Most of the conferences were translated by my very able bi-lingual Teaching Assistant.  As one father spent a considerable amount of time speaking to her in answer to my question, I pondered how far I was from my oldest brother (I remember watching the draft lottery the year his birthday was pulled) shooting at this man’s father in the early 70s.

This father made his choice based on his perception that current Vietnamese schools are not developing the character that he wants for his children.  He did some research and felt the school where I work was the answer.  You can see how that provides me with more purpose when I’m working with his child.

Second story:

Recently, a friend was in the country with Habitat for Humanity.  S2 and I met up with her and five members of her group, providing them a brief tour of what we know about the center of the city, known as District 1.

We met at the Post Office, a Colonial building that makes me feel like I’m in the 1800s (in a good way).  It is a well-known landmark and always seems to be open.  I went with some things to mail, because no trip there would be complete without using the glue brush, as one paints the glue on the stamps that have to be attached (no meters here!).  Let me know if you want a post card.  They are still sold here.  Or, if you want one of those incredible pop-up cards, I can arrange that as well.  Of course, I need your address as well.

So, we met the group of 6 and pointed out some nearby sites: the cozy book street located next to the post office and my personal favorite, the fish pedicure (which I was eager to try until I just ran a search to find out what they are called and found out about all the dangers of one).  We strolled down “the walking street” and ended up on the balcony of a tea shop watching the world go by (including a man sitting backward on a motorbike as he towed a helium canister).  It was therapeutic to visit with people not related to work.  They had moving stories about the work they’d just done.

From there we moved onto a nearby Hindu Temple they read about.  I stood in the temple befuddled by the notion of all the religions that are in this area, and the length of time such practices have been here.

We ended up in a “hole-in-the-wall” restaurant that a colleague showed me.  I like the family atmosphere of the place.  We were seated upstairs, between the air conditioner and the fan.  I chose the Morning Glory and Beef with an Avocado Smoothie.  The waiter was very attentive to the large group, meeting everyone’s drink needs.  Once he placed the food order, his curiosity got the best of him and he returned to ask if anyone of us had been there during the Vietnam war (here it is usually known as the American War).  A self-admitted History buff, he wanted to hear our perspectives and knowledge. 

He was adamant that he had great respect for the U.S., because they did not use their full power.  At the time, I was still watching the Ken Burns 10-episode documentary on Vietnam (as per my brother’s suggestion).  The series is detailed and offers explanations that, as a child, I was not aware of, but when all the pieces go together, I have more understanding for what a difficult situation the American/Vietnam War was for so many people.  I had to admit, the waiter was correct.  The series never mentions that the U.S. contemplated dropping an atomic bomb.  Certainly the U.S. dropped a lot of bombs, but not the one that would have obliterated the conflict.

As I’ve combined my knowledge about Vietnam and the war that raged on here for years (I highly recommend the Ken Burns series, check your local library or Netflix) with the words of the parents of my students, I feel like I’m living in a remarkable place, at a remarkable time.  I am teaching the son of a man that wants me to develop “human integrity and intellect” so that his son will become a global citizen.  Could I ask to be part of a greater task?

Some recent photos:

Super Hero Paddle Bike Race at the shopping Mall

Over 50 children under the age of 6 went speeding through the mall, 

parents and cameras sprinted to follow and capture the moment.

I'm not cooking much here.  Instead, I am using a meal delivery service.  

Every weekday, a young man delivers two meals.  I take one to school for lunch and we split the second one for dinner.  This costs us 850,000 dong ($36.50 for 15 meals).  One day, the delivery man told me, "Madam, it is VERY cold today."  It was 77 F/25 C.  I admit, yesterday I had the thought, "I could almost be cold" in my dress and short sleeves.

It's my Birthday and I'll have fun if I want to ....

I turned 60 last week!  Imagine that?  During President GHW Bush’s term, one of Wyoming’s U.S Senator’s, at his wife’s 60^th birthday party, toasted her with the phrase, “I never thought I’d be sleeping with a 60-year old woman.”  First Lady Barbara Bush walked out.  Hmmm … my husband is now sleeping with a 60-year old woman.  It seems like a pretty great thing to be alive just now - 60 or not.  I feel like I embrace all that I have or can be part of right now.  I'm living in a place where people smile, wave, help each other, and accept what is while not worrying about what isn't.

In the weeks leading up to my birthday, I pondered what I could do with newfound friends to celebrate this milestone birthday.  It prompted a review of other decade birthdays. 

For my 50^th, I flew to Barcelona to meet girlfriends for a long weekend.  We stayed in an Air BnB before there were Air BnBs.  We ate good food, drank great wine, and wandered the streets in awe of the architecture, the buskers, the color, and the sunshine (we were all living in northern Europe at the time).  S2 and the kids had sought quotes from family and friends to put together a book of quotes for me.  I still have it.  My favorite remains “Revenge is better than Christmas.”

My 40^th is a blur.  I was teaching a class on-campus that semester.  I drove nearly 5 hours to my parents on a Sunday afternoon, left the kids with my parents the next day, drove nearly an hour to the university, taught the class, drove back to my parents, stayed the night, and drove back home with the kids on Tuesday.  We’d bought a house that August.  It was December before I stayed in the house more than 10 days in a row.  Plus, my youngest’s first birthday was that same week.  I had known for a year that would be a far more important event in my life than my 40^th birthday.

My 30^th birthday might be indicative of my nomadic lifestyle.  We were on our world trip then.  I woke in Borneo.  I went to sleep that night in Singapore.  In between:

•         We’d cleared the army of ants out of the panniers we’d stored at the airport in Kuching.  I can still remember the marble floor in front of the left luggage room as we unpacked everything to find what exactly these ants were after.  The best we could piece together was they were after the scant drops of moisture remaining in our water filter.  I can still see the huge white egg sacs they were carrying in their mouths.  They were working toward bringing a battalion of ants to life, based on the less than 1/8 teaspoon of water in our bags.  Yes, water is precious.  Don’t take it for granted.   
•        I was thrilled to eat fresh papaya and mango for breakfast at the airport.  It was something I’d never had for my birthday.
•         I pointed out to the money changer, who had to see my passport, that it was my birthday.  He gave me an Australian dollar coin.  I still have it.
•         I bought an ice cream cake at Baskin Robbins (a train cake – it was all they had) and took it to Raffles Hotel where they turned off the ceiling fans for me to light the candles.  The whole place sang “Happy Birthday”.  I blew out the candles, drank a Singapore Sling, and watched the inspirational tango dancers.  I still can’t dance like that.  Probably will never be able to.  Shoot, I can’t even stand in heels like that, let alone walk or dance.

Perhaps the most exotic of my decade birthdays.

Then, there’s my 20^th birthday.  It was back when we changed clocks on the last Sunday in October.  This meant an extra hour on my birthday.  The boyfriend at the time, an avid hunter, wanted to go elk hunting that day.  I spent the day sitting in the car, in the woods, surrounded by a good 10 inches of snow.  All for love!  Although, when I do the math, and think about the hunting seasons I spent with him, this might have been my 21^st birthday.

ANYHOW … given that my Menopause party was just 3 years ago (took girlfriends to the Thai massage place near our apartment in Germany, ate little snacks and drank champagne before going to the public sauna two blocks away – it was Ladies’ Night), I hadn’t thought much about a good 60^th birthday celebration.  Nonetheless, I pieced together a fun weekend.

 

S2 and I went out for a Turkish breakfast.  A Turkish breakfast will forever be the best breakfast in my mind.  

I managed to FINALLY get to the fabric market, but was immediately overwhelmed by the amount of fabric packed into literally hundreds of stalls.  The color, in and of itself, was overwhelming, let alone the sequins, the beads, the embroidered edges, the eyelet trim, and the mega-meters of fabric.  

  

I battled with my phone to get my 70,000-dong renewal updated so I could get to my 3G access (it sounds like I know what I’m talking about, doesn’t I?).  At 2 PM I met 4 girlfriends at the Villa Royale Downtown Antiques Tea Room for High Tea.  We each were served our own pot of tea and two three-tiered trays of little sandwiches (cucumber, salmon, chicken mango salad) and quiches, chocolate sweets and banana breads, and cheesecake.  Additionally, cupcakes were brought out with candles that spelled out “Happy Birthday.”  

The three eldest of us (of which I’m the youngest) retired to the apartment of one of us and drank an incredibly good bottle of French wine as we discussed our lives; past, present and future.  I got home shortly after 10 PM.  S2 called me twice to see if I was alright.  It’s not often that he takes his phone out to use it!

THAT wasn’t even my birthday!  Sunday brought two lovely long Skype calls with my children.  THEN I met up with two girlfriends (one from the previous day and one who didn’t make High Tea) to go to Golden Lotus Healing Spa Land, a Korean Spa that uses a method known as Jjim Jil Bang. 

It was hours of relaxing time (for me) in three different kinds of saunas, one cool room, one cold room (a glorious 14C/57F), a “cave” with an infrared light (to replenish Vitamin D), a general area to rest and relax, an outdoor hot foot bath and an outdoor cold foot bath, not to mention the more traditional Japanese sento attached to the respective changing rooms.  My level of comfort with northern European saunas (clothing optional) prepared me well for the vaguely prison-type attire required, and provided.  Alright, it’s probably considerably more comfortable than prison garb, nice and baggy though.  Basically, who cares what I looked like or wore – it was a sauna, and I was covered up, as was everyone else.  I was completely baffled by why (let alone how) people were taking their phones into the hot and cold rooms, to read, play games, listen to music, have a family chat or, as I wondered when I sat down next to a young man who clearly didn’t want anyone looking at what he was looking at, accessing porn.  Don’t people want to relax and not think about anything?

It was a lovely afternoon that these two friends indulged me in, as it was a completely new adventure for them.  Afterwards, I did some grocery shopping and headed home.  Neighbors and colleagues prepared my requested birthday dinner, Mexican food.  It was our third time having Mexican food at their place.  All have been glorious!

Until next time...

October break

Here are some photos from October break.  Stories will follow later.  We flew to Hanoi, took a sleeping bus to and from Sapa and returned to Hanoi before taking a bus, speed boat, and bus to Cat Ba Island.  Then returned to Hanoi before flying back home.

Always fun to be met at the airport by someone holding your name.

Sleeping Bus to and from Sapa

Vietnamese Truck Stop

We visited the highest point in Vietnam - Mt. Fansipan

Another reason to go to Sapa was the elegantly carved-into-the-side-of-the-mountain rice paddies.

The limestone karsts in Halong Bay - but we saw them from the Cat Ba Island area

The Mall

Yes, I am quite surprised at the presence of stereotypical western shopping malls here in HCMC.

 

Certainly, there are street stalls selling everything imaginable.  Sometimes, people lay plastic sheeting on the sidewalk and plop down their wares (most often it appears to be seconds or overruns from brand names).  Yesterday, in my adventure to find the quilting store (which I did find), I passed a pile of black rubber Croc type shoes, a pile of button-down collar shirts (each one wrapped in plastic), hanging baskets of orchids (roots exposed and everything, all hung on a fence), a pile of oranges, a pile of mangoes (many of them sliced in artistic ways), a pile of plastic Made in China toys (prompting me to remember a time when my oldest wished we could go live in China where all the toys are made), and a small Hibachi fired up and grilling skewers of tiny pieces of meat.

 

It is just difficult to put the outdoor meat market, with vendors chopping off the heads of frogs, in the same part of the city with the shopping mall that has Starbucks, H&M, Pierre Cardin, and Samsonite.  And why do they need those incredibly western retail places when they have their is usually a rabbit warren of retail in every neighborhood.  What DO those shopping malls offer?  Oh, that's right, they are air conditioned.

The atmosphere inside the shopping malls are festive, open, airy, and always full of some sort of campaign.  In the days leading up to Mid-Autumn Festival there were booths selling Moon Cakes.  I did a double take when I saw the Oreo Moon Cake stall.  

I’ve seen photo opportunities set up with Happy Faces galore – that’s right, just line your children up among all the happy faces and click away.  My favorite was the huge Lego promotion – all that Lego for everyone to try out.  Note that one takes their shoes off to go play with Lego. 

Currently, the photo opportunity space is devoted to Halloween, with sparkly orange and black costumes to put on and sit with brooms amongst the scary moon and stars.

  

Today, at Saigon Center, there were 6 different brands of massage chairs on display, with people of all shapes and sizes trying them out.

Food courts are also present, with some western choices (like McDonald’s, Burger King, and Pizza Hut), as well as Asian choices (Korean, Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, Indian) and the ever-popular French bakery.

There are photo booths, as well as places you can take your phone to and have your photos printed without plugging in your phone or plugging in an SD card.  There are karaoke booths where you and your friends can go and record yourself singing (take it away on your phone or a flash drive, shoot, you can probably email it to yourself as well).

The kids’ play place is typically massive.  One mall has a bowling alley, and air hockey, as well as the plethora of arcade games.  One day this week, our grade level is taking a field trip to the play place of a mall because it offers the equivalent of a mini-ropes course for children.  My personal favorite has been these over-sized, plush, self-propelled moving animals.

Other fun things from the last week:

We bought a few pieces of furniture to help accommodate our own personal things.  One of those items was a wardrobe.  It was delivered (free of charge) about 9 PM at night.  It came with two young men, a box of tools, and knowledge of how to put it together in less than 15 minutes.

And the servicing of the 4 air conditioners took less than 90 minutes, two young men, an air compressor, a hose with a high pressure nozzle on the end that was connected to a water tap, a large plastic bag that went under the air conditioner unit, a ladder and a few buckets.

There probably won't be a new post for until after the 22nd - we are on October break next week.  There will, however, be new stories to tell.

A Trip to the Doctor

Ahhh – the teacher’s first cold of the new school year.  I always hope to stave it off as long as possible, but it does usually hit before the end of October.  I was quite surprised when I headed to bed one night before the 15^th feeling incredibly achy in my joints.  It went on for 2 days.  Could I be getting an early flu already, I thought.  Within two days it was clearly a chest cold.

What a situation!  The constant presence of air conditioners means breathing that sort of air, while being outside means breathing that polluted air (8.6 million people here and well over half of them have a motorbike).  To NOT have the air conditioner on, well, that’s like living in a sauna.  Do I really buy 3 fans?

I drank lots of water.  I put the all-purpose Tiger Balm on my chest (staining my precious nightgown – precious because wearing the same pajamas every night for 3 months makes a new nightgown very precious).  I slept with my chest and head elevated.  I refrained from working out, getting as much rest as I could.  I went to bed early.

After 10 days, I went to the doctor.  I went online to request an appointment.  I could probably call, but it is so easy to just fill it out, send it in (with a specific time request, in my case, Saturday morning).  Within 24 hours I had a confirmation of an appointment.  There is a “western style” hospital/doctor “less-than-100,000-dong” taxi ride away.  It is a multi-building, multi-level place.  I went a few weeks ago to see a dermatologist (monitoring the spots that seem to suddenly appear, and always seem to end up being “age spots”).  I had my patient card, so was able to proceed to the 

Pulmonary section on the 3^rd floor.  No matter what you are there for, once you are checked in, a nurse weighs you and checks your height (I grew 3 cms at the dermatologist office, but only 1 cm at the Pulmonologists office).  She also takes my temperature and blood pressure.  Everything normal.  I saw the doctor, who spoke broken English, but he listened to my chest (which is what I wanted) and sent me to get a chest x-ray (which I wanted if he felt it was needed).

Off to another part of the hospital.  Check-in (they knew I was coming).  Sit down.  Get out book.  My name is called.  Stand up.  Technician looks at me.  Looks at my chart.  Bursts out laughing.  “You are not Korean.”  I will provide people with plenty of laughter with my last name and my looks in this country.  

I was sent to the nicest hospital changing room I ever experienced.  It had lockers with keys for my clothes.  The gown I had to put on was easy to figure out, just slip it on over my head.  No need for embarrassment about whether the opening goes in the front or the back.  X-ray done, I headed back to the doctor.  

The waiting area had filled up considerably, but I didn’t get 2 pages read before I was called back.  Sometimes I wonder if being a foreigner means you automatically get to go first.  Prognosis: Acute bronchitis.  He said the weather would exacerbate it here.  Weather?  I remember the weather of northern Europe giving me problems with bronchial issues – but this heat and humidity?

I waited over an hour for the prescription to be printed.  The receptionist came twice to apologize for the delay – problems with the computer.  Eventually I was called to the cashier’s desk, given my prescription, x-ray, receipts and told that insurance covered everything.  I was told to go to the ground floor to get my prescription.

There, I had to take a number.  I couldn’t take the priority number, I had to take the regular number.  It was a wait of 15 numbers, PLUS the priority ones (so much for that foreigner theory).  I got to the desk, gave my paperwork over, he produced a basket with all my medicines and proceeded to tell me what to do with each.  Antibiotics for the infection, anti-inflammatory for the inflammation, and cough syrup – don’t drive after you take the cough syrup.  Insurance covered everything.

I walked away with a big envelope of papers, a bag of medicine, and didn’t have to pay anything.  I looked at the receipt and discovered the antibiotics cost more than the chest x-ray (imported drugs). 

Here I am, one week later, certainly not as sick as I was then, but still with that tickle in the chest that makes one cough.  I was able to convince the landlord to get the air conditioners serviced, so now I’ve got a bit cleaner air to breath at home.  I wore one of those respiratory masks while I waited for the bus this week.  I think I just have to see what adjustments my body makes.

But hey, what about that insurance coverage?  I can’t tell you how much it costs me per month, because it doesn’t seem to be deducted from my pay.  It must be some good coverage though.  I have a colleague whose husband spent 30 days in ICU last month.  It didn’t cost a thing.

(Sorry no photos - but I hope you can imagine the motorbike parking lot at the hospital)

There are bills to pay

The local currency is known as dong.  Today’s exchange rate is 23,320 dong to 1 U.S. dollar.  There are no coins in Vietnam.  All forms of official currency are paper.  The smallest bill I’ve seen is 200 dong (0.0086 cents) not even worth a penny.  They won’t take them on the bus.  They will accept 500 notes, but not 200 notes.  The largest bill I’ve seen is 500,000 dong (about $21.50).  An easy conversion (as described by a Math teacher), take off four zeros and divide by two. 

Thus, our monthly rent of 15,300,000 dong would be (take off 4 zeros, divide by 2) $765.  Hmmm, too high.  Rent is closer to $650.   Note to self: formula doesn’t work as well with higher numbers.

So what do monthly expenses look like?   Rent, electricity, water, gas, internet, drinking water, management fee, phone.  August wasn’t a good example because it included part of July charges on most bills.  Now, as the end of the month approaches, most things are on a cycle I can interpret.

The management fee for the apartment is 1,158,300 dong (about $50).  I don’t know exactly what this covers, but I do know maintenance came this week to fix a broken window, the locks on the sliding doors, and drill holes to hang all our photos.  This appears to be part of the service.  We do have a security guard at the front door to the complex.  Someone cleans the marble hallways daily.  There is a garbage collection point on each floor, that never appears to be overflowing.  The empty boxes from last week’s shipment were flattened, left outside the apartment door and disappeared.  We have 4 working elevators.  The use of the pool is free.  I am alright paying $50 for all that.

Water in the apartment – remember, only the bathroom has hot water.  The monthly bill for that appears to be 82,915 dong.  That is $3.50.  I guess I don’t need to try to shorten my showers to save money.  I wonder what that one bath I took will cost me.

Gas – the two burners are the only items in the house that use gas.  It seemed like a real feat in Ankara when the gas canister did not have to be replaced the entire time I lived there.  Thus, I wasn’t at all surprised when a replacement gas canister was needed in the first month here.  Karma.  Unable to figure out exactly what number to call, I took a photo of the canister and went to the security guard at the front desk.  He called the gas company and a new canister was delivered (and hooked up) in less than an hour.  It appears to be about 20 liters of gas (about 5 gallons) and cost 397,000 dong ($17.00).  It could last 6 months or more, perhaps a year.  It all depends on how much cooking is done.

Internet – I’m still trying to figure this one out.  All I know is a guy rings the bell, says, “Internet.”  I pay him money, he gives me a receipt.  We have internet.  This is 302,000 dong ($13.00).  Hmmm – I wonder if that includes some kind of cable fee that isn't being used.

Phone – we both have cell phones.  One of us only turns HIS on when he wants to make a call.  The other one went with a 3G package in order to have internet use when away from the apartment and without wifi.  In places like, uh, the bus (love that bus app).  This is another bill I’m trying to figure out.  There was the initial charge for a SIM card.  I can’t remember that one – maybe 100,000 dong.  I reached the end of my first month of usage and went to put more money on my account.  This was quite an adventure.  I know I can buy the codes at the local convenience store, but I evidently was saying the wrong thing.  They wouldn’t sell me anything, despite the 200,000 dong in my hand.  A colleague who lives in the building came to help me.  I got a piece of paper with a series of numbers on it.  She knew which ones to enter … and I had another month of coverage.  As I recall, it is about 80,000 dong for the 3G plan (that I don’t come close to using).  That is less then $3.50.  Every person in Vietnam has at least 1.2 cell phones, so there is pretty good coverage.  My theory is they didn’t get the phone infrastructure up before cell phones took over.

Drinking water – I am trying to increase my water intake to avoid the inevitable swelling in this heat and humidity, so an 18-liter bottle is emptied about every 4-5 days.  Thus, every 10 days, water needs to be resupplied.  One phone call, one hour later, two bottles of water delivered to the door, 95,000 dong ($4).  Drink more water.  In addition to straight drinking water, it is also used for ice cubes and making tea – but not boiling eggs or rice.

Yes, I have been saving the big one for the end.  Electricity.  You know what uses electricity?  The air conditioner.  So far, it is a rare occasion to be in the apartment without the air conditioning running.  Those gorgeous cooling afternoon monsoons don’t really bring the temperature down THAT much.  At least, not on the 7^th floor.  The first full month of electricity was 1,805,042 dong ($ 77.00).  Hey, at least it wasn’t over 2,000,000.  Perhaps as “winter” sets in, it will cool off, and I won’t want air conditioning all the time.  One can always hope.  I admit, I do prefer sleeping with a light blanket than waking up dripping in sweat, feeling like I’m in a sauna (don’t laugh, it happened once last week when I went to bed and forgot to turn on the AC).

So, all in all, a relatively cheap cost of living.  It is also well within our housing allowance.

 

Health care costs?  That’s a different blog post.

Our stuff is here! Our stuff is here!

In the world of international teaching, one of the highlights of starting at a new school is the arrival of one’s shipment, or as it would be known in the U.S., the arrival of the movers.  

I was skyping with our daughter yesterday morning, when the doorbell rang, knowing it was our shipment, she excitedly told me, “go, go.”  Eight minutes later, the movers left and we were alone with our boxes.  A bit like Christmas is the best way to describe it.  I know what is in all those boxes, but opening, unwrapping, and seeing them - it brings such joy.

It was just over 15 years ago that we sold our house in Newcastle and moved to Moscow.  It was an adventure, emptying the house we’d lived in for 6 years.  It was a great garage sale experience.  Everything was either $5, $1, or 25 cents (it meant even the soon-to-be First Grader could give change).  The second day of the sale, everything was 25 cents AND buy one get two free.  We made $300 at that garage sale (and it gave the kids $150 each to spend at the Lego Store in Moscow).  We put a number of things in storage, including the car (because the only available storage units were big enough for a car).  It was a move that involved over 150 boxes being put in a container on a truck that drove to Denver, where the container was put on a train to San Francisco.  It was then transferred to a ship that went through the Panama Canal and ended up in Hamburg, Germany.  There, it was loaded on a truck that drove to Moscow.  Yes, everything arrived safely, apart from the glass lid of one very large container that held ALL the cookie cutters.

Thus, I was thrilled, in June, when the shipment that left our apartment in Ankara was 15 boxes, which was half of what we’d brought to Ankara.  All 15 of those boxes arrived at our apartment in HCMC yesterday.  Nothing was broken or missing.  As would be expected of empty nesters of our generation, we should be downsizing.  I’d say we’re doing pretty well.  Shoot, even the storage unit is smaller now (availability of a smaller unit and getting rid of the car enabled this). 

It was over 3 months of “living out of a suitcase.”  That’s right – for 3 months, we’ve been wearing (most of) the same clothes.  We have been to a tailor here to get some extra pants made to see us through.  Neither of our sizes are readily available here, but tailors are relatively cheap.  I was most happy with alternative night clothes, and getting dressed to go to work on Monday will be a joy – so many choices.

As can be imagined, we have to prioritize the things that go “on the ship” and the things that stay with us.  We even prioritize what goes in carry-on vs. checked bags.  Then, when the shipment arrives and we unwrap things, there’s a moment of “why did I let that go on the boat?” as well as, “ahh, it arrived safely.” 

I try to keep my teaching things to no more than 2 boxes – and a lot of that is books.  At this school, I will have to complete paperwork before I take any of my personal things to work.   I’ve reduced the cookbook collection to only 2 (Pinterest is my source for new recipes now).  The collection of sewing/quilting/needlework books has slowly dwindled as well.  S2 sorts his ties into ones that go into carry-on (ones that our daughter made for him or he wore to something special, like our wedding or his mother’s funeral) and ones that go on the ship.  I take my jewelry with me, but send my collection of jewelry boxes on the ship.  Our daughter’s original art work travels in checked baggage (and has already been framed here).  All medical records, banking records, tax records go in carry-on.  The hat the children wore as toddlers and the pair of socks they both wore when there were born goes in carry-on. 

With each move, I tend to declare that I will NOT be moving this much fabric the NEXT time.  I had three major quilting projects that I finished in the final months of Ankara, which certainly contributed to my fabric reduction, but, I did quite sneakily argue for the use of my fabric stash as packing this time.  There it was yesterday, surrounding S2’s bike trainer (his hobby vs. my hobby). 

This move was the first to the tropics.  My team leader had prepared me for the wardrobe transition of such a climate.  She pointed out while she never wore socks, she did need some cold weather clothes for traveling.  I tried to adjust for that but unpacking the lone pair of jeans and the three sweaters yesterday seemed odd, let alone the leather jacket, winter hat and gloves.  I have to remind myself that I could end up NOT in the tropics for conferences or accreditation visits. 

I left Ankara with 3 pairs of shoes, picked up 3 new pairs over the summer, but mainly use the same 3 pair here, but unpacking 8 pairs of shoes yesterday was a “why did I pack this?” moment.  I can’t imagine wearing tights or nylons here, consequently some of those shoes will never get worn unless I go somewhere else.

A surprising pleasure this time was the arrival of the mugs we’ve deemed appropriate to travel by ship.  We’ve been without cups with handles, which makes having hot drinks a challenge.  Why buy new ones when we had some coming?  So that cup of tea this morning was exceptionally fun.

A new part of this experience, was sending photos to the kids via WhatsApp as I unwrapped treasures.  They humored me through it all – the iPod dock (we can hear our music now), the measuring cups (that we’ve had since before they were born), the jar of shells they gave me for my 47th birthday (from the coast of Italy), and the collection of Beanie Baby Birthday Bears.  I pointed out we need a Septembear to represent our new daughter-in-law.

The Bus

We had our first visitors this week.

     

That's a baby gecko, scared to even move, on the left.  On the right, a mantis I saw on the balcony, whose every movement was watched by 4 VERY adult geckos.

Our regular Saturday morning outings rely on the public bus.  There is a stop right in front of our apartment complex, making it quite easy to utilize the incredibly, reasonably priced (30 cents) air-conditioned services.  The route goes directly to what is commonly known as the city center, or more accurately, District 1.  From there, a plethora of buses can take one nearly everywhere, or at least, wherever we’ve needed to go.

  

It is quite easy to use the public bus.  I merely wave at the bus as it approaches.  The driver pulls over to the side of the road, motorbikes weave around it, and the driver opens one of two doors, expecting me to jump on as quickly as possible, as he prefers not to come to a complete stop.  Depending on how far over the driver has brought the bus, I may have to weave in and out of motorbikes passing on the right side of the bus.  The attendant, who collects the money and passes out the tickets, often points to the seat I should sit in.  My age seems to provide me with this service, although it might also be because of my status as a foreigner.

Some buses have an incessant recorded chatter, presumably announcing stops.  Others have complete silence.  There is a button to press to indicate I want to get off at the next stop, but I always seem to be the only one who uses it.  The attendant seems to know when people want off and announces to the driver to pull over at the next stop.  At times, it seems like as soon as I press the button, the driver pulls over to let me off.  I suspect they are trying to be helpful, thinking I don’t know what I’m doing.

The front most seats require one to step up to the driver’s raised area.  Everyone always takes their shoes off when they sit in those seats.  I suspect it has something to do with how close one is stepping to the driver, whose work area would then have dirt or mud on it.  Or it could be that it is harder to clean that part of the bus, and thus, shoes come off.  Yesterday, we stepped up to take front seats, removing our shoes before we did so.  It was as if the driver thought we were movie stars.  He was so ecstatic.  He clapped, gave us a thumbs up, gave us both a piece of candy, and seemed to sing our praises for several minutes.

I use an incredibly helpful bus App to orient and navigate our public bus excursions.  I was dutifully watching it as we rode this bus into District 5, so I would know when to indicate we wanted off.  I seemed to take the driver by surprise when I tapped him on the shoulder to indicate we wanted off.   There seemed to be some hesitancy at letting us off in this neighborhood, but he agreed, and was happy to return my wave when I indicated we were safely on the sidewalk.  We were less than 20 meters from our destination, the place we sought to service S2’s hearing aids. 

I got on a bus by myself yesterday, as I went in search of a specific sewing machine store.  I seemed to cause quite a fuss as I heard a lot of chatter, followed by silence, and a middle-age woman gently tapped me on the shoulder.   “Do you need any help?” she proudly asked.  I wondered if the people on the bus were concerned about me.  I was alone.  It was starting to get dark.  It was pouring down rain.  I have no idea of the ultimate destination of the bus, I just knew it went by the shop I wanted to go to.  I assured her I was fine, there was a shop I wanted to go to.  Once I indicated I wanted off, it seemed like the whole bus was going to make it happen.

The buses are a great venue for seeing things.

Yesterday I saw a motorbike piled high with pillows (30 or 40?) weave in front of the bus.  Another time there was a motorbike loaded with 40 flats of eggs.  I saw a store with the name “Gun Shop” and the sign in the window advertising their product – “Condoms.”  You can imagine my surprise the day I saw the Saigon Harley Davidson outlet.  Shoot, from the bus you can see store-bicycles!

People take a lot of different things on a bus as well.  You are subject to buying an additional ticket if you have a large suitcase.  Once I saw what appeared to be a woman's whole store of cheap, plastic toys with her.  Yesterday, I saw a spare tire being transported.  It wasn't a motorbike spare tire, it was a full-fledged, shoot-that-could-be-to-an-earth-mover spare tire.  When a second bus had one the same size, I figured it might be the spare tire to the bus.

Other highlights from yesterday:

The gathering place of those who like to show off their songbirds.

The seafood section of the open air market - 

We went to the used bicycle street in search of bicycles.  I'm not sure why these chickens felt compelled to gather under the bikes.

Uh-oh ... used book store

Yes, I think they are making some sort of industrial size sink.

It is possible to buy a bicycle and transport it home via motorbike.

We were on the book street when the rain started.  Before 10 drops were heard hitting the overhead canvas, the plastic sheeting was being pulled out to cover the book displays.

I am still learning and enjoying so much.  And ... work is going very well (in case you were interested).