Its been a while, so I apologize for anyone who still reads this. Things have been getting a wee bit insane, and I've reached a busy juncture of my Summer here. However, the Summer of Han has just begun.
Just a warning, this is probably not going to be as silly as most of my posts. This is an emotional time. I'm not above crying.
Just a warning, this is probably not going to be as silly as most of my posts. This is an emotional time. I'm not above crying.
Teaching and the Last Day of Class, First Term:
Last Thursday was the last day of class for my July session. Two things here. First, I cant believe a month has already passed. I don't really understand how it feels like I just started teaching yesterday and like I've been in Vietnam for months at the same time, but that's how it is. Second, I cant believe how close we (as in all the teachers) got to the students in only a month. Honestly, off the top of my head I cant think of a more genuine, generous, badass, and hilarious brutal group of people. The concept of political correctness has not fully been introduced to this generation, and no subject is immune from ridicule, including weight, sexual orientation, intelligence, etc. Student-Teacher respect is also non existent, as I've been told numerous times that I will never have a girlfriend and will die alone while no one remembers me. Actually now that I think about it these guys aren't funny, just a bunch of dicks.
Anyone who knows anything about Vietnamese people knows that there are approximately 3 Vietnamese names. As such, the faculty had to resort to giving out English nicknames to the more ridiculous characters to distinguish our students. A certain shifty and intentionally/unintentionally hilarious fellow quickly became known as The Winker or the Wink. An older, ballroom dance instructor's name conveniently translated to Father. He possibly has a creep vibe to him, and always asks my female co-workers to dance at almost any gathering. We are still deciding if he is the world's most passionate dancer or the world's worst family man. Either way he is a hilarious addition to the overall character of the program. There is Moscow, the nicest, nerdiest, and most enthusiastic programmer who spent six years studying in Moscow. Hes older and much, much smarter than all of us but still laughs hysterically when he correctly guesses a word in Charades. Other names include the Buffalo Princess, the Groper, Rapper, and others. Every student who was still around to the end was insanely unique and hilarious in their own way, which definitely made teaching so much easier.
From left to right: My co-workers Cathy, Phuong, Angela, and Minh. These awesome people are equally responsible for making my July something worth remembering. On days when we are mentally or emotionally exhausted, we definitely lean on each other to get through the classes. If I was teaching by myself, I know that I would have failed miserably. The students have also taken it upon themselves to bestow nicknames/categories onto us as well. I am widely considered to be Cambodian, and for some reason they all think I am crazy. While I am constantly degraded as having an ugly face that will never be loved, this point is usually emphasized by quickly saying how my teaching partner Phuong is so nice and beautiful, and how much they all love her. Angela is universally acknowledged as the "active" teacher, because she is always operating in one of two modes: coked out or dancing. I tried to convince them to say assclown instead, but that didn't really catch on. We share a few students as well (who switch classes from 1:30 and 3:00), and they go out of their way to tell me how much of an ass I am compared to her. Minh, the only one of us that is fluent in Vietnamese, is probably the closest with the students. This is even more baffling for them because they are all convinced he is Korean. He is also most responsible for polluting their minds with American slang. Sadly, most of my esteemed colleagues will not officially be joining me in the August courses.
I'm not sure what the Vietnamese word for Clusterfuck is, but that would probably be an appropriate way to describe it. The students planned a surprise party for us, which was some touching shit. I countered by coming in as Greenman, which only cemented their view that I was a strange, strange person. We ended up leaving the school to go to a Karaoke place down the street, which is another story for another time. Lets just say, the Vietnamese love the sound of their own voice.
They surprised us is flowers, cake, and confetti. I'm just a dick.
Some students giving the mandatory Peace sign.
Thu and Vi, some of the most ridiculous and hilarious people I've ever met.
Don't pay attention to the fact that I am demolishing Angela's face with a cake. Instead, look at Minh's vocab on the whiteboard in the background haha.
In all serious though, all that bullshit about learning way more from the students then what you actually teach them is completely and utterly true.
Ho Coc:
Yes, this small, isolated beach is named Hoe Cock. This was Angela's last weekend, and I'm not entirely sure how it happened but Minh and I hitched onto her family's trip to Ho Coc beach. It's about three hours from Saigon, and it definitely has not been hit by any major tourist development. Besides the local fishermen/woman, there was only another family there. Our lunch consisted of various sea life that was literally caught on the spot and grilled for us, which was tasty as hell. Not much else to say, here are some pictures:
Minh and the Dao Clan
Local fishing boats catching many things I couldn't identify
Freshly caught and prepared seafood mystery bag
Rest stop on the way back. Bathroom for Women... Bathroom for Men...
But I use the bathroom for Cowboys.
Motorbike Mayhem:
From left to right: My co-workers Cathy, Phuong, Angela, and Minh. These awesome people are equally responsible for making my July something worth remembering. On days when we are mentally or emotionally exhausted, we definitely lean on each other to get through the classes. If I was teaching by myself, I know that I would have failed miserably. The students have also taken it upon themselves to bestow nicknames/categories onto us as well. I am widely considered to be Cambodian, and for some reason they all think I am crazy. While I am constantly degraded as having an ugly face that will never be loved, this point is usually emphasized by quickly saying how my teaching partner Phuong is so nice and beautiful, and how much they all love her. Angela is universally acknowledged as the "active" teacher, because she is always operating in one of two modes: coked out or dancing. I tried to convince them to say assclown instead, but that didn't really catch on. We share a few students as well (who switch classes from 1:30 and 3:00), and they go out of their way to tell me how much of an ass I am compared to her. Minh, the only one of us that is fluent in Vietnamese, is probably the closest with the students. This is even more baffling for them because they are all convinced he is Korean. He is also most responsible for polluting their minds with American slang. Sadly, most of my esteemed colleagues will not officially be joining me in the August courses.
I'm not sure what the Vietnamese word for Clusterfuck is, but that would probably be an appropriate way to describe it. The students planned a surprise party for us, which was some touching shit. I countered by coming in as Greenman, which only cemented their view that I was a strange, strange person. We ended up leaving the school to go to a Karaoke place down the street, which is another story for another time. Lets just say, the Vietnamese love the sound of their own voice.
They surprised us is flowers, cake, and confetti. I'm just a dick.
Some students giving the mandatory Peace sign.
Thu and Vi, some of the most ridiculous and hilarious people I've ever met.
Don't pay attention to the fact that I am demolishing Angela's face with a cake. Instead, look at Minh's vocab on the whiteboard in the background haha. 
In all serious though, all that bullshit about learning way more from the students then what you actually teach them is completely and utterly true.
Ho Coc:
Yes, this small, isolated beach is named Hoe Cock. This was Angela's last weekend, and I'm not entirely sure how it happened but Minh and I hitched onto her family's trip to Ho Coc beach. It's about three hours from Saigon, and it definitely has not been hit by any major tourist development. Besides the local fishermen/woman, there was only another family there. Our lunch consisted of various sea life that was literally caught on the spot and grilled for us, which was tasty as hell. Not much else to say, here are some pictures:
Minh and the Dao Clan
Local fishing boats catching many things I couldn't identify
Freshly caught and prepared seafood mystery bag
Rest stop on the way back. Bathroom for Women... Bathroom for Men...
But I use the bathroom for Cowboys.Motorbike Mayhem:
Call me whatever Kid Rock's character's name is from the movie Biker Boyz. Why? Because I recently started renting out a motorbike (a Honda Wave 110), and I am king of the concrete jungle. I've actually never seen that movie, and was even too lazy to IMDB his character's name, but I do think it has something to do with riding a two-wheeled motorized vehicle rather recklessly. If I'm wrong, I cant possibly look like more of an ass after having just referenced A.) the movie Biker Boyz and B.) Kid Rock.
Realtalk though, and I hope my poor mother isn't reading this, the first day of engaging Saigon traffic I very nearly caused serious bodily harm to myself, Cathy, and numerous innocent pedestrians an alarmingly high amount of times. Lots of hours of practice later, I think I have it down. However I still feel the Grim Reaper (or possibly another reckless Vietnamese driver) breathing down my neck every time I encounter one of the many irrational round-a-bouts in this city, and I definitely have not mastered the art of carrying a passenger.
All danger aside, this is ridiculously fun and I feel like I am living a more genuine Ho Chi Minh City experience.
Realtalk though, and I hope my poor mother isn't reading this, the first day of engaging Saigon traffic I very nearly caused serious bodily harm to myself, Cathy, and numerous innocent pedestrians an alarmingly high amount of times. Lots of hours of practice later, I think I have it down. However I still feel the Grim Reaper (or possibly another reckless Vietnamese driver) breathing down my neck every time I encounter one of the many irrational round-a-bouts in this city, and I definitely have not mastered the art of carrying a passenger.
All danger aside, this is ridiculously fun and I feel like I am living a more genuine Ho Chi Minh City experience.
The War on Mosquitoes:
There is a better chance of winning the War on Drugs or the War on Terror. It seems like all the mosquitoes around me are evolving at an impossible rate. I've killed all the slow ones. The fuckers that remain all seem like they have received ninja training. Their attacks are becoming coordinated, and very Pearl Harbor-esque in nature.
Life in General:
It is finally starting to hit me that I graduated from college. While some of the other teachers are going back home to resume their college life, I realize for the first time since I was 4 that my summer wont be followed by school. This then got me thinking about home. More specifically, how I don't really have one and how 99% of all of my worldly possessions at the moment can fit into my large backpack and laptop bag. I've decided this is a good thing, and of course I always try to be aware just how incredibly lucky I am to be able to do what I am doing.
I don't really want to accept it, but its becoming clearer by the day that playtime is over. Its definitely time to start trying to do big things, to leave my mark in this world. I would be lying if I said this wasn't partially inspired by the news that my brother just got a sick job in NYC. Combined with my oldest brother who is dominating L.A., I have some serious catching up to do. Of course there is the line of thinking that you shouldn't compare yourself to people and that you
should do things for your own sake/happiness, but isn't that all a little bit selfish? I mean, all of my uncles and aunts who were post-war refugees have accomplished so much more with less. My parents worked their asses off their entire lives for what, the chance for me to explore parts of the world and make an ass of myself? I cant believe it actually took me living in Vietnam for me to fully realize how easy it would be for me to waste the ridiculous opportunities I've had/have. I'm beginning to think Henry David Thoreau is a complete fuck.
Well enough with this novel, and I apologize to anyone who actually read it. Not quite sure where it came from or why I wrote it. Also, I promise this is the last time I ever talk about shit like this on here (or anywhere for that matter). More racism and prostitution jokes next time, fo sho.
I don't really want to accept it, but its becoming clearer by the day that playtime is over. Its definitely time to start trying to do big things, to leave my mark in this world. I would be lying if I said this wasn't partially inspired by the news that my brother just got a sick job in NYC. Combined with my oldest brother who is dominating L.A., I have some serious catching up to do. Of course there is the line of thinking that you shouldn't compare yourself to people and that you
should do things for your own sake/happiness, but isn't that all a little bit selfish? I mean, all of my uncles and aunts who were post-war refugees have accomplished so much more with less. My parents worked their asses off their entire lives for what, the chance for me to explore parts of the world and make an ass of myself? I cant believe it actually took me living in Vietnam for me to fully realize how easy it would be for me to waste the ridiculous opportunities I've had/have. I'm beginning to think Henry David Thoreau is a complete fuck.Well enough with this novel, and I apologize to anyone who actually read it. Not quite sure where it came from or why I wrote it. Also, I promise this is the last time I ever talk about shit like this on here (or anywhere for that matter). More racism and prostitution jokes next time, fo sho.
No comments:
Post a Comment