I don’t have time to do literary justice to my trip to Vietnam. All I can manage are representative threads.
Graves
Eleni said I haven’t told you yet about the graves in rural Vietnam. All-righty, then. Let’s take care of that.
In the Mekong Delta, graves sprout up in the rice paddies like massive weeds: concrete slabs sloping into green. There’s no uniform layout. The graves lie like pick-up sticks, pointing in all directions. Some are single-occupancy units. Others are in clusters, anchored at the corners by thin stone towers with mosque-like roofs. Sometimes they’re neatly tucked away at a field’s border. More often they’re smack in the middle so that farmers toil at the feet of their ancestors: silent foremen watching over the generations. Most importantly, the ancestors bring shame upon anyone who would dare sell the family land. I heard from one source (so it must be true) that the Vietnamese are very superstitious. Though I can only imagine what a ghost does when it’s ashamed, I doubt that it’s pleasant.
I wouldn’t mind working under the gaze of those who can no longer see me. [That sentence perplexed Eleni, who needs a remedial course in irony.] However, I think it might freak out my students if I were to show up with a load of books in one arm and my daddy’s coffin in the other. To complicate matters, he doesn’t even have a coffin.
My Class
Teaching was challenging. Not only was the subject matter complex (language acquisition theory, teaching methodology and stuff), but the way I taught had to mirror what I taught. Some of my students had had many years of teaching experience while others had none, so I had to find a balance. I think I did okay.
I’m glad we didn’t give you a hard time, remarked one student. I’m grateful too. They certainly had the skills and intellect to drag me through the coals, but they spared me. Yet they were also full of fun. In the following video, you won’t understand the dialog, so just listen for the laughing. [Remember, this video player is still screwed up. Hit play, and then stop or pause, and then play again.]
[flashvideo filename=wp-content/video/laughter.flv image=wp-content/video/laughter.jpg /]
Here’s my class, minus two students.
In farewell, I played The Dubliners’ version of The Parting Glass, and explained my wish that joy be with them all. As the final note sounded, one student shouted “Parteeeeee!” I thought it was a joke, but the rallying cry marked Step One of their plan. They presented me with a beautiful scarf and a thank-you card. Knowing I like traditional music, they sang two folk songs: one from Hanoi (for which city I was bound the next day) and one from the south. Here’s seven minutes of audio that includes conversation and singing.
For the denouement, someone brought a dozen ice-and-yogurt drinks jammed with about 50 kinds of fruit. I’ve never been treated so magnificently in a class.
Later, two students told me privately that they thought I was a really good teacher. Of course I was flattered, but confused. “What does that mean?” I don’t want to be popular. I just want to inspire them to learn something they can use.
Friends of Friends
I finally had time to meet Mai, the best friend of my Foothill College student, Huyen. People in Vietnam have been generous not only with their resources but their time. Americans guard our time more zealously. I’m notorious for that. Yet here’s a woman I don’t even know, giving up her evening for me on the request of her friend. She took me to a restaurant called Rat Hué. Restaurants aren’t supposed to have Rat in their name, but it’s okay. It means very in Vietnamese, and Hué is a city in the middle of the country where the cuisine is extraordinary.
Random Threads
- There’s a service-oriented business here called Happy Ending Massage.
- The label on Valentine-brand dark chocolate lists its Essential Nutrients. At the top of the list is: Moisture 0.8 %