The weather: We just had a solid
week of thunderstorms and torrential rainstorms that all occurred around 4 pm
give or take each day. It was uncanny to say the least. I’m hoping that this is
the rainy season’s last hoorah..idk though, I’m starting to have my doubts. It’s
been raining from almost the day we walked off the plane months ago and it
feels like the “dry season” is some sort of mirage in the distance at this
point. The same can be said with the d**** heat. It doesn’t help that I get
nothing of a sort of consensus regarding the weather in the coming months. Some
people say it will get cold…other’s say it will get cold in the mornings and
evenings and remain hot in the afternoons…and yet others say it just stays hot
(I think they’re just being overly cynical though). I do think there have been
a few rains where it actually made the weather cooler instead of more humid…more
on the weather if it ever changes.
The teaching: I swear some of the
kids are evil. I’m on the cusp of implementing my stern ass-kicking teacher
personality. Some of these kids really need it. At the same time I’m like, ‘meh’
should I really even bother, if they don’t want to learn then they shouldn’t
have to (not that they can be remotely aware of the gravity of these decisions
at their ages, but still.) All of my altruistic motives/notions about teaching
went down the drain with my failed attempt at sending Jamal to Harvard or
something along those lines tutoring at an inner-city Memphis middle school. All
of this isn’t to say I slack off at my job. I’m pretty confident I do my job as
well as the majority of other teachers, but the Gung Ho attitude isn’t there.
Some parts are fun…like the clothes these kids come to school in. Just last
weekend I had a 7-year-old girl with a jacket plastered with multi-colored
playboy rabbits and another girl with a t-shirt that just said “Rich Bitch” on
her back. I asked my TA’s whether their parents had any idea what they were
dressing their children in and thankfully they said no. I will say teaching became a lot more bearable
with the arrival of our first full paycheck.
Libby and I are at an impasse on
the massage front. My favorite masseuse is “#7” at Cat Moc while she just found
her new favorite at MySpa-#3. Yep, it looks like that’s a thing here in Saigon.
It’s funny because both times we ask for their names, and they start giving
their name and just end up giving a number. They don’t know enough English to
phrase it more delicately like, “it’ll be easier to just remember me by my
assigned number” or something like that, instead it’s just an abrupt holding
out of fingers and “number 3” and when the receptionist did it at Cat Moc- “she’s
#7.”
We’ve been doing a proper job
celebrating. Able to put a full tank of gas in our moto! (2.5 dollars). But
really, we were on a “streetfood challenge” for the week between Danang and our
paycheck. Let’s just say it wasn’t very nice to Libby’s stomach. Karma must be
like a lot stronger in this Buddhist
region of the world because I’m laughing out loud just thinking about Libby’s
declaration of her iron stomach pre-departure and also laughing about laughing about
writing about her first bout with stomach karma in an earlier post. At first I
thought her stomach must’ve been sensing the coming hurricane season back home
but just like the snap of a finger it seemed like all available discretionary
funds were being diverted to the emergency fiber fund.
The coffee shop project has gotten
off to a good start. See the pictures on the following post.
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