On Tuesday I unwittingly set in
motion a series of events that ultimately led to violence. I’m subbing a
wretched teenage class for a teacher that went home for the holidays. Anyways,
I only have one more week left of the class, so my motivation level for
maintaining the peace is considerably lower than it usually is. ***disclaimer…my
motivation for maintaining classroom peace in general has been declining
steadily as the end becomes nearer**** Also, I didn’t take any fancy “conflict-resolution”
classes in college, so I’m woefully ignorant. Let me set the scene. First, there
are 8 boys and about as many girls in this class. The girls, all of them
perfectly behaved, sit right next to me and cause zero problems. The boys, 5
good and 3 bad, usually are dispersed throughout the classroom. Anyways, they
all ended up congregating in the back of the classroom. Something I wouldn’t
usually allow, but they told me “teacher, it’s too hot in the front” and
admittedly, the air con unit was in the back. Anyways, unfortunately, the
congregation was centered around one of the good boys who had previously segregated
himself from the pack of wild Dingos. Anyways after a few minutes, he goes “teacher
he just called me worse than a dog.” So without any conflict resolution or
peace study courses under my belt I was left pretty high and dry. I did the only
thing I knew how and asked the bad kid responsible why he was such a bad kid?
Did he like being a bad kid? And his mother would be ashamed of him.
Anyways,
I told the good kid to move to the empty side of the classroom and throughout
the class the two other good boys slowly moved next to him. Then I made the
mistake of calling the bad boys the Dark Side and the good boys the Light Side.
Big mistake. Somehow it set off a chain of thoughts in their little heads that
the Dark Side needed to fight the
Light Side. The Light Side’s pleas for help were quite funny as the good kids
are hilarious. “Teacher there’s too many of them, it’s 5 vs. 3,” “Teacher you
need to save us.” The battle was set for the break time when I would leave.
Sure enough right when the bell rings, I didn’t even get out the door before
one of the Dark Side jumps on the Light Side. I tore them off and tried to be
mad but mostly was like you’ve got to be kidding me. “They were like teacher help ussssssssssssss.” I responded, “There’s a security guard, go
hover around him, he’ll help you” and proceeded down the stairs to go eat my
dinner. Well, I come back and two of the kids are missing. “They were fighting
and are in trouble now, Teacher” the girls tell me. ”One of them had a knife
teacher.” I was like WTF, “a knife?!!!!!?????” The girls search for the English
word and finally arrive at “the thing that makes circles in math class,” which
made me have to wrack my brain back to geometry class. But sure enough, those
damn compasses, with the needle points so sharp you could hurt someone.
A
few minutes later the two walked in looking very solemn. I felt really bad for
the Light Side because I knew it was 100 percent the Dark Side’s fault… He
showed me his arm which had two red claw like marks. “Is this inner-city
Chicago??” No, this is the nicest part of Saigon, where people pay a 100 percent
luxury tax on their Range Rover’s and Porsches in a town where 35,000 dollars a
year would allow you to live like a king. I honestly believe it’s all the video
games. Unless there’s some underlying sociopathic tendency in the Vietnamese
people, there’s no other way in explaining this behavior along with the innumerable
“I want to kill you/him/her(s)” I’ve heard come from otherwise normal
kids. Anyways, I might tell the Light
Side kid to call the Dark Side kid fat next week as recompense.
Jimjilbang Golden Lotus Healing Spa Land
Yesterday,
we went to the Korean Bathhouse to do the aforementioned thing. Watch out
Saigon, Andrew has found a hot tub. The first part of the rotation is honestly
hard to explain. There’s a UV sauna room which is apparently special. There’s a
Himalayan salt UV sauna room, also supposedly special. There’s an igloo room.
An oxygen room with some sort of Japanese air, purportedly special. Hot/Cold
footbaths. Volcanic room with hot balls you lie on…Yep, special. Honestly I
think Wiki would probably do a better job. Although I would have been an
instant true believer if this was a Japanese Bath House, the Koreans come in a
close second on the streak of genius within the Asian hierarchy scale. But they
definitely saved the best for the last, the locker room. The locker room had
two temperatures of hot tubs, cold tub, steam room, sauna, waterfall showers,
shaving basins, body scrub towels, everything to leave you feeling clean and
above all AMAZING. I just kept going in rotations between hot tub, steam room,
cold tub, hotter tub. Brushed my teeth, kept going for more water, cleaned my
ears, and shaved in between rotations. It was like an Eden of tactile comfort. It
took a second getting used to being the lone white guy in a sea of naked
Korean/Vietnamese/Japanese guys. One
Japanese man was older and had the greatest face I think I’ve ever laid my eyes
on. I was telling Libby it was like the human equivalent of the French bulldog.
If I had a camera I think I would have asked him I could take a picture of his
face. In my mind his name was Yamamoto, direct descendent of Isoruko Yamamoto,
leader of some Mafioso.
Side Notes
The Christmas spirit is running full steam ahead here in
Saigon. I’m sitting at a coffee shop next to the decorated (fake) Christmas tree
and Christmas music has been playing nonstop. I am very grateful for the
Christmas music as it gives a reprieve from the nonstop pop music, although I’m
sure in 21 days this music may also drive me crazy. The department stores have
quite elaborate setups out front and it looks like they may have lights going
over the large boulevards but we’re not sure if that’s for Tet or Christmas.
Ps- it’s pouring as I’m writing this. It’s been raining
almost every day now for the past two weeks. I’m confused because rainy season
is supposed to be over. I’m even more confused because my Vietnamese friends
are also confused as to why it’s still raining.
Our Christmas tree.
As I’m writing this, Libby is working part-time at a Korean
pre-school. She is subbing for 5 weeks
for one of our VUS co-workers who has gone back to the US for the holidays. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up
smuggling one of the children home with her.
