Greetings From the South East

My name is Vi short for Thuy Vi.

I’m a day behind my posts. The electricity went out yesterday. Ro explained that there isn’t enough for everyone all the time so it’ll just go out randomly. Does socialism work? I’ve seen a lot of things that might show otherwise..

Day 9

This whole language thing is really starting to frustrate me. I want to express myself to them so badly but I can’t. I want to participate more in their conversations instead of guessing what their talking about by their hand gestures. And I really want to stop finding myself in weird and awkward situations.

When we go out I try to stick with the group and not open my mouth but somehow I’m always spotted. When we stand on the street or travel in a taxi I always find these eyes peering at me. What are they thinking? Are they thinking, ‘ew she looks like an American, I bet she’s an American and they’re assholes’ Or are they thinking ‘hmm..i think I’ll have fish today’. I never know. I always take it personally, but I’m trying not to.

Anywho, so we go to the market to go shopping for gifts. As soon as I get there I realize this is no ‘Souvenir, Tourist, ‘yay lets buy a bunch of big fat Buddha’s for aunt sally” type of market. This is a place where outsiders dare not go. There in a HUGE warehouse, small little strips of pavement are provided to walk through crowds of people fighting over the price of baby diapers and jelly sandals. People nudge you, shove you, pretty much run you down if they’re trying to get somewhere. The whole place smells of day old fish and Nuac (fish sauce) (surprise surprise). All the while my cousin, Thuyet literally has a death grip on my arm and is dragging me through the whole mess of things to look at various pony tail holders because earlier in the week I had mention to my dad how I needed to find some hair ties. Its so cute, now every time we go out she finds the one hair accessory stand in the whole area and brings me over to pick something out. I feel bad but I’m really not into rhinestones and huge panda bear clips so I try to say ‘no, but thank you’ in the nicest way I can without actually being able to say ‘no, but thank you’. I finally agreed to some hello kitty hair clips which Julian, I’m giving to you.

So along with purchasing various fake and pirated items for all of my friends and family I was also in the search for a jade bracelet that I noticed a lot of girls wearing around here. So Thuyet, led me to the ‘jewelry’ portion of the market and selected her next victim. A happy looking plump woman with a big smile whose eyes lit up at the site of dong in our pockets. My aunts circled and began their ritual. By the end I could tell they had become friends and we would get ‘good price, good price’. So I’m looking through a sea of jade bracelets not sure which one to pick and she’s lining them up and I’m putting them on but they weren’t fitting right. You see, when I noticed them on the other girls they seemed a bit more fitted to the wrist, so I told my aunt and she spoke to the woman and the woman made the ‘oh!’ expression and then pulled out some other bracelets. She then grabbed my left arm and I then grabbed it back and gave her my right arm but she put it down and grabbed my left arm. This went on for several minutes. I would say ‘no this one’ and she would say probably the same thing and then some and grab my left. Then she started to talk to my aunts and I started to pay attention to them and without really noticing, she had dowsed my arm with lotion (my LEFT one) and all of a sudden I felt the bones in my hand feel like they were melting to mush. The look of pain bolted across my face and my aunts started screaming at the woman to stop and the woman kept saying ’so saudy so saudy’ but she continued to force and my aunts continued to scream and my eyes started to cross and right when I thought I might pass out from pain, the bracelet was nicely secure around my wrist. She’s a smart broad because she knows I wouldn’t for a second try to take it off, so she obviously made the sell. Basically getting fitted for one of these bracelets is like the equivalent to getting a tattoo or piercing and you’re supposed to wear it on the left arm to bring good luck and happiness and probably eventually carpal tunnel. So my hands a little purple but totally worth the memory.

So you can see what not understanding the language can do to a person. Not to mention the words that sound the same but are spelled different and have different meanings. Like ‘Moi’ pronounced ‘Moy’ for instance.. there’s ‘Mui’ which means nose, ‘Moi’ which means lips and ‘muoi’ which means mosquito. ‘Muoi’ is the one I use the most. THEY’RE STILL EATING ME ALIVE.

My cousin Thom, next to Ro, is the English speaker in the family. She always yells ‘HEY YOU! YOU YOU YOU!’ to get my attention. And the other day she asked me, ‘ehm…are you? are you? are you glass?’ and I was like, ‘um…glass…glass, glad?’ ‘ehm..no, glass.’ and then she spelled it on her hand ‘ehm..uhh..gee..ale…aye…dee’ and I said, “oh, Glad??’ and she said ‘ahh, yes yes! glass’, it was cute. This is pretty the extent of my conversation with people.

Later that night we had a huge party at my grandfathers. I mean HUGE. A LOT of people came. It was kind of overwhelming but it was cool because I met a lot of extended family and some of my dad’s friends from when he was in high school. I could tell he was super happy about it. He’s really in his element here.

Later, I saw my cousin Van come into the room all dressed up and I thought, ‘oh maybe we’re going out!’ and then she came over to me and said ‘ok bye bye’ and I was like, ‘wait WHAT?!” Earlier that day I noticed her packing but when I asked her if she was leaving the next day she said yes. So this whole time I’m thinking I have another day with her but here she was leaving to go back to Saigon in an hour. It was the strangest thing. I got overwhelmed with sadness all of a sudden and everything was happening so fast. So guess what? I started crying again. UGH. Why can I not keep it together in front of these people? They must think I’m the weepy American that can’t handle it. But I was so sad to have Van leave. She’s been with me ever since I got here. I love her so much.

Me and Van

Day 10

We went to the beach! It was rainy and overcast but super wonderful. I had THE BEST seafood of my life. Sea snails (which I’ve come to love but these being the best by far), clams more clams and THE MOST AMAZING crab in this sweet curry sauce. Holy shight, sooo good. I was the last person to leave the table, I stuffed my face. They all thought it was funny because I’m always the first to finish. Ba Ba Ba (a kind of beer here) and curried crab, the stuff dreams were made of.

On the way back home I think I counted 6 homes we stopped at. Each one we stopped, unloaded the sardine can and filed in to sit on hard wood benches and take pictures with relatives and friends. It was neat too because my dad would go to the upstairs room at every house and light incense and pray for those who’ve passed. He’s a good man.

Later at night we went to a piano bar. I was getting really irritated with the whole communication thing and I kind of wanted to retreat but my dad insisted I go. There we sat at a bar where I desperately wanted to order a very dry martini on the rocks but instead ordered hot tea. I started to get into one of my moods for the first time because I kept getting mad at my dad for not being more helpful. And my cousin’s boyfriend who learned I used to play piano (operative word, USED TO) kept batting at me to go up and play for everyone. Then the air conditioner above my head kept dripping huge drops of water on my head. I just sat there with my arms crossed and a bit of a huff under my breath. Then I actually thought to myself, ‘ugh, whatever, I can just go home and be fine and eat Homeslice again and take a real shower’. But then my cousin Thuyet got up and sang a song and dedicated it to me. UGH..I’m a jerk. Who am I kidding? They’re wonderful.

The Crew

Day 8, Friday

Yet again not knowing what was going on this morning I was lead to a big bus/van thing along with many of my women relatives and my dad. It became apparent to me just how similar a Vietnamese family is to a Mexican family. They’re loud, they travel in packs, they take food with them everywhere they go, they make friends with whom ever they come in contact with and the women are constantly yelling something to someone b/c they aren’t doing whatever it is they’re doing right. Thanks to the Medrano family I’ve had much experience with the type. *(shout out to Ana, Patsy, Severo, Yvonne, Christian, Vero, Michael, Caleb, Hannah, Blanca, Hope, the Tios and the Tias, the Buddha twins and whoever else I’m forgetting..)

We pulled up to a grave yard just outside DaNang that stretched as far as the eye could see. We bobbled along through a muddy road for what seemed like forever only to stop and get out and realize we were lost. Thankfully my aunt, Go Hai, took matters into her own hands and began to trek through the various family plots to locate the Van Dang’s. We all proceeded to follow her through the mud and sticky grass to find my grandmother, their mother’s grave.

My dad was close with his mom. He was one of her youngest. From what I understand, during the war she paid for him to be hidden so he wouldn’t have to fight at such a young age. He loved her so much for giving him the opportunity for life. He was the only one in his family to venture to the U.S. but she encouraged him to pursue his desires against everyone else’s discouragement. Unfortunately, two years after he moved, she passed away. I know this has plagued him ever since.

The way the Vietnamese honor their dead is one of the most moving things I’ve ever encountered. Even in their houses, whether small or large, they dedicate a whole room to their past relatives. Here they set up alters with candles and incense and various fruits, water and flowers presented. In the mornings you wake up to the smell of sweet incense burning beneath the pictures of those they’ve lost. When they go to their graves the whole family accompanies and brings fruit, water, beer, candles and incense. They clean whatever grass or weeds that have collected around the grave stone and they light incense and pray. Its not a sad time, its a happy time for fellowship and remembering. I especially appreciate this because though death and loss are very difficult things to go through, it should never be swept under the table in my opinion. They incorporate the dead in their lives everyday and I love it. One of my biggest fears as time goes by is that I’ll forget those I’ve lost, but I’m learning how to keep them with me and celebrate their lives.

After we prayed around my grandmother everyone began to disperse. I noticed just how many distant relatives I have as they all one by one took incense to the graves in the surrounding area. My aunt grabbed my arm and told me to come and she showed me how to pray and where to place the incense. I loved it.

From there we traveled to Hoi An. Finally I got to see the more rural areas I’ve always associated with Viet Nam. You know, the Forrest Gump, Platoon, Full metal Jacket Jungles we all know and love. Tall palms trees, wispy bamboo stalks, rice patties, fish boats; the picturesque foreign land our mothers and fathers heard about on the news or dodged the draft for. That kind of Viet Nam. It was beautiful.

In Hoi An I found myself becoming more overwhelmed with the amount of tourists in the area as opposed to my previous freak out due to the new culture I was encountering. Although I didn’t run away crying this time, I did however want to get away from them as soon as possible. Part of me felt very special though because I didn’t just step off of an air conditioned bus, I was with the ‘in-crowd’ and was experiencing the Viet Nam life they would never know. During one of our many meal breaks, the Van Dang family circled around a stone table. As we crouched down to eat our sweet pork and converse with the lady sitting over a small fire roasting the meat, I actually saw two very Caucasian looking people taking pictures of us. I had now become the hunted. In a weird way, I loved it.

Its hard for me because if I look at something longer than 10 seconds they want to buy it for me. And as much as I appreciate the gesture, its very difficult to let them. When we first got to the market in Hoi An one of my aunts caught me looking at a coat displayed on a manikin. She then grabbed my arm and took me over to it, as the rest of the women followed. They all circled the coat like lions around their prey. They began to investigate it, tug and pull at it’s seams, and repeatedly drag the zipper up and down. They yelled for the woman in the back to come out and help them. I tried to say, ‘No no its really ok, no, really’ but before I knew it they had grabbed the coat off the stand and were stuffing my arms into it. They lead me to a mirror and all oo’d and awe’d. “You like??” my aunt, Go Om asked. “Well yes, its very pretty, but really its ok,” I replied. Then she hit me and said, “No!” They then circled around the woman who ran the stand and began their most gifted art of haggling. The woman would reply and they would shake their heads and yell something in Vietnamese. Then they started to drag the coat off of me and put it back on the manikin. I was so relieved. As we walked through the market we came across 20 other coats exactly like it and each time one of my aunts or cousins would run in to find the price, each time returning to shake their heads. These women mean business! They won’t be had by anyone. I love it.

As we walked back through the market to leave, my aunts lead me back to the first store we stopped at. They yelled for the woman and circled her once more. From what I was getting from the conversation she wasn’t budging. Then they re-investigated the coat, re-took it off the stand and re-put it back on me again. I looked at it, and to be honest, I really did love it, but I wasn’t going to be had either! so I shook my head. What I wasn’t aware of is that they had bought it for me. I guess the woman cracked. They all smiled and congratulated each other on their expert buy. And of course I loved it.

So I thought I’d run through a bit of what life is like here in Vietnam. Beginning with the traffic.

Traffic

Ok so imagine your on the bumper car ride at the carnival and add about 50 more and then turn those bumper cars into motorbikes. Throw a few cars, bicycles and vegetable trucks in there and then some how not actually bump into each other. That would probably be the closest you’d get to Vietnam’s traffic. I just so happen to have a love for traffic patterns in other countries. They’re not boring and maddening like traffic jams in the U.S. For instance Mexico or Peru. They always have a bus with someone hanging outside of it yelling for you to hop on and until this point I always felt like if you could drive in Mexico, you could drive anywhere.. Uuum..i was wrong. Most people ride motorbikes here, which I’ve become obsessed with and looking into purchasing as soon as I get back. For every car there are about 50 motorbikes, which I’ve seen up to 5 people somehow balance on. Others carry various items such as steal beams, pounds of fish and baskets. I’ve seen it all. There is constant movement. There aren’t any traffic jams because if there’s a red light the motorbikes will just spill onto the sidewalks to get around. They have a lot of European style round-a-bouts in which its a virtual free for all. Motorbikes come at you from every and all directions and somehow they all intricately weave in and out of each other. Its been my favorite traffic experience yet. Its so nerve racking and exciting; I feel so alive when I’m out on a motorbike in traffic.

Living in Vietnam

My grandfather’s house is tucked neatly into a narrow alley way among hundreds of squished up homes lining both sides of the street. On the outside, facing the street the neighborhoods are lined with food venders, bodegas and motorbike repair shops.

I dare say if most of you saw where I’m staying, you would perhaps gasp or cringe with disgust, but now I call it home. They don’t have showers, they have shower heads next to the toilet with a bucket underneath. My house is lucky b/c we actually have toilets, one on the 1st floor and one on the 2nd. Yesterday I went to one of my cousins’ houses and they had a porcelain hole out in a hut where when you’re finished you grab a bucket of water and throw it into the hole to wash down the tinkle..i don’t even want to know where the other stuff goes. Our washing machine is made of a series of round plastic tubs which we put soap in one and fresh water in the other and pour them in and out and scrub scrub scrub. We sleep 2 sometimes 3 to a bed under mosquito nets because the humidity is so thick here that the mosquitoes come in droves to attack us. Really, so far only me. For whatever reason they LOVE me. The first night when I was in Ho Chi Minh I had a damn near heart/panic attack b/c I woke up with all these mosquito bites all over my body and I had convinced myself that I had dengue fever. So far so good..I’m just waiting for the muscle spasms, cold sweats and crippling dysentery to set in.

When you leave the house you walk down the alley way to find other homes and businesses. Actually where I am staying, my uncle teaches class in the room next to mine. He’s a math and physics teacher. He’s got the some of the top ranking students in his class. I’m so proud But yeah, so when you walk out you’ll find a place where you can get your hair and nails did or go to a snack shop to get prawn crackers or like at the end of our alley way, go to the market. The market has everything you need..fish head, dangling beef strips, lemongrass, shampoo, all a girl could ever want in a market.

Technology

I think my family here is about 10 years behind the rest of the world. I mean they know what’s up, don’t get me wrong, but everything is so expensive here for them. Dong, the currency is about 12,000 to 1 U.S. dollar. So basically the other day when I changed a hundred I received little over a million dong in return. Rich! Anywho, I am currently typing on a computer that resembles one I took my first typing lesson on in 1st grade. Its by a brand name I’ve never heard of and they’re running a pirated version of windows xp, 2003 edition! When you turn it on, it sounds more like a motor struggling to gain momentum. When I get back I’m gonna look into upgrading them.

It was cool b/c the other night I sat with my cousins Ro and Ri and listened to my iPod. They loved it, and I loved it! Ri really liked crystal castles and Chromeo and Ro liked Death Cab and Dashboard. Can you guess? Ro’s the hopeless, aching for love, 18 yr. old romantic and Ri is the destined to be a fabulous star! He’s only three but I can see the writing on the wall..ladies and gentlemen, we have a gay in the family! He’s been my favorite so far; we get each other.

So there’s a bit about this and that here. I’m sure I’ll think of or come across a million more things. Can’t wait to see what adventures lay ahead!!

Much Love

So I decided I should begin this blog because the humidity has nearly disintegrated my journal book and then everyone gets to travel right along with me.

Currently I am in DaNang at my grandfather’s house. It began to rain last night around 3am and hasn’t stopped but once and that was around 12:30pm and now it’s started again. The rain literally falls out of the sky in continuous waves that after while sound like a really loud air conditioner. There isn’t any lightening or thunder or 10 minute thunderstorms like Texas, just non. stop. RAIN. but its been nice to relax for a day and finally start this blog. So now I’ll back up to the beginning of my trip to get you up to speed.

Day 1, Friday night

After a 14 hour flight from Dallas to Korea and then a four hour flight from Korea to Ho Chi Minh along side my father whom I just only reconnected with less than a year ago. There I sat for a total of about 24 hours next to a man I barely knew and his bag of odd gifts for his family (which included dark chocolate, fish oil pills, ALOT of digital cameras and the smelliest pork sausages I’ve ever encountered). Then after finally adjusting to that scenario we arrived in Vietnam around 10:45pm. Needless to say the trip wasn’t half bad, but I was definitely relieved to get away from close proximity of the sausages..

After circus wrangling our 4 large bags from baggage we were greeted by a small boy waiting for us on the outside of the airport who I later learned was my second cousin named HoiAng (I think, at least that’s what it sounds like, along with the 25 other names I’ve heard so far, your guess is as good as mine at this point). I then met 2 girl cousins of mine, one of them being Ang’s mother and their mom (my aunt by marriage). It was an interesting moment for us all. I think we had both heard so much about each other and the anticipation had built up for so long (much longer on their end than mine) but then there was the language barrier so we couldn’t really express ourselves as much as we wanted, but we all smiled a lot and they patted me on the back and took a lot of the same pictures over and over of us standing by our luggage.. So there we were, 6 people, 4 large suitcases, 2 smaller carry-ons, 2 bags and a Honda civic. I can’t really explain how, but we made it work. My left leg will never be the same but that’s ok.

My cousins live in a high rise-like apartment complex where there’s a restaurant on the first and second floor and the only thing separating the floors is a winding staircase that their neighbors travel to and fro. The staircase leads into each floor’s living area so basically you can be sitting in the living room eating a bowl of noodles and Mr. & Mrs. Dang will drift on through and give a little nod.

Day 2, Saturday

All the girls that work on the first floor wear pink polos and as they cut up raw meat on the tables when I walk through they say ‘Hi how are you?’ or ‘Hello! what is your name?”, pretty much every time. The first full day we had pho for breakfast, visited the Vietnamese version of HEB where you can get liquor, shampoo and sea snails all in one trip. That night we all went downtown to the main market where every other man or woman that walked up to our party my dad would say “this is my brother or this is your cousin”. We grew to about 15 people in size. So we sat and had our first family meal together which also marked the beginning of my bizarre foods escapades. You think that bald guy knows strange foods? NO. I have officially become the correspondent for strange and weird items you put in your mouth. The night before I had eaten a hard boiled quail egg and I thought I was being pretty daring. Little did I know that my father was about to force me to TRY every damn thing they sat on the table. This included various weird gelatinous creations I won’t even begin to try to understand, sea snails and this large fried fish resembling a Parana that was presented to us on a huge stand in the middle of the table. In the end of the spring rolls were the best and the freshest I’ve ever tasted.

Later we went to a Vietnamese disco tech and this is something else that should be noted throughout this story, everyone is talking but I have no idea what they’re saying so basically I’m at their mercy. When I think we’re going to eat we’re going to the market, when I think we’re doing laundry, I’m supposed to be taking a shower and when I think we’re going home, I’m really being taken to club where they blast (and I never knew the meaning of the word until this night), BLAST techno beats until your brain wants to spill out of your ears and then they tell me ‘Dance! dance!’

Day 3, Sunday

We go back to the same market from the night before during the day and walk through a sea of fake Fendis, durian and more shoes than you ever thought existed. All the while the thick aroma of fish, fish sauce, dried fish, fishy fish is constantly finding its way up your nostrils..bleagh.

Later in the day we went to the Vietnamese version of Disney land. I took plenty of pictures so you’ll get that idea later, but trust me if there ever was one, it WAS the Vietnamese version of Disney land, ripped off Mickey’s and Donald’s everywhere..AMAZING. actually, to be honest, it was quite eerie at times, everything was run down and squeaky and for some reason I started to feel the darker presence of the past more here than anywhere yet. Every once in a while the loud speaker would blurt out something that sounded more like a command to the troops than something happy like ‘welcome to Vietnamese Disney land!’.. kind of creepy.

That night we went to this little crevice of a place and we all sat around two small handmade wooden tables and plastic stools. Then my dad said, “you wanna see snake?” so we walk over to these two young boys pulling two bags out of a hole somewhere I didn’t see filled with squirming, slimy SNAKES. There’s a video. I’ll let you check it out for yourself. in the end my dad was still pulling that ‘you try you try or you never know!” crap so you get the idea..

Day 4, Monday

We fly to DaNang. Its funny b/c you know that whole language barrier thing and me not knowing what’s going on? Well my cousin, Van rode with us the whole way to the airport and I still didn’t get that she was going with us until she got out and pulled a suitcase out that I never noticed they put in the back of the taxi. I just thought we were dropping her off at work along the way. I swear I asked if she was coming and they said no, so whatev.

So we get to DaNang and we’re greeted by even more people on the outside. Two of which are my aunts who I suppose are in their 60’s, who brought me flowers. They treated me like a celebrity or royalty, either one, it felt very undeserving, it was more humbling than anything. When we got to their home I was greeted by at least 10 more people with huge smiles on their faces reaching to carry my bags. It was an odd experience to show up to these very humble surroundings with all our large bags and having everyone else carry them. I felt uncomfortable for the first time. And then, and then! they took me into their home and brought me into a room where everyone gathered around this small feeble man in a wheel chair. My grandpa. Who by the way isn’t 92, he’s 94. Now that was an intense experience. One for being in front of about 20 people smiling, wanting me to respond and me not really knowing what to do and him crinkling up his face with tears and them telling him not to cry and me trying to understand what was going on. It was beautiful, frightening and moving to say the least.

That night we all sat around and ate as a family. I mean I really felt like I was apart of this family. as much as I don’t understand and as much as they talk, point and laugh I still somehow felt like one of them.

Later we went for a drive where I thought we were going for coffee but instead stopped by a corner vender and were all handed a steaming hot hard-boiled looking egg and a little spoon. Yeah, it turned out to be one of those half baby duck half embryo delights. and yes, my dad made me eat it. “It make you strong!”.

Day 5, Tuesday

So its been raining all day and we’ve been inside. Its been the first day I haven’t been thrown into hair-raising traffic or made to eat some foreign object, but of course the family members keep coming. Today, for the first time I started to get really frustrated. I can’t talk to anyone and my dad pretty much threw me to the wolves with this one. like I said, I think they’re saying one thing and its totally not what I think and a lot of the time they just laugh at me and I know its supposed to be an endearing gesture but try having a bunch of people laugh including your father all the time and see how you feel. Please don’t get me wrong, I am so thankful to be here and I’m learning so much about myself and where I come from but shit man, this has its tough parts and none of you are hear to talk to. I wish someone was here with me to share in all the good and bad moments. Speaking of, at the moment, a bad one, my second cousin, Ri, who’s 5, is wrestling me for the computer and keeps hitting me and saying things in Vietnamese over and over again and then stomping off only to return with something else to shove in my face (last time being a stale rice cracker). ugh, he’s adorable but you know how I feel about the children and now ones that I can’t even speak to? Help!

And so now you kind of get a picture of what’s going here. I’ve still managed to leave things out but I’m sure they’ll come to me as I remember them once I’m back. You’ll probably be hearing about this for months to come.

I hope to keep this updated if I can. Its amazing in these meager surroundings how they’ve still managed to get a pretty good internet connection. Hoping I can pry Van away for a few moments from video chatting with someone named Tieu Thai that doesn’t wear a shirt, I’ll be in touch.

I love you guys.