If you can read the sign then follow the directions

It was our lunch break on the final day of my Blissology Yoga Teachers training in Ulu Watu and I was feeling the need to squeeze in some last minute tourist attractions.  I only had one hour so I jumped on my scooter and went to the local temple.  This temple is exceptional in its location, considered to be one of the nine directional temples in Bali. It is located high on the edge of the cliff  above the roaring waves of the Indian Ocean and constructed in the 11th Century.

When I pulled up to the parking lot of this tourist attraction a local vendor took one look at me a waved her bony finger at me and spoke to me in the local Balinese dialect.  Her body language indicated to me that I was not appropriately dressed in my yoga top and shorts to visit the temple.  I proceeded to the entrance to pay my fee and collect a purple sarong to cover my legs.  I looked at the posted sign written in a variety of languages and read in plain English that I should take off my glasses and remove any jewelry.  Well, I was in a hurry and didn't understand WHY should I take off earthly possessions to see a temple?

I was about 50 meters from the gate entrance when I was surrounded by monkeys.  Now, I should tell you that I spent 2 weeks living at a small hotel situated next to the rear entrance to the Monkey Forest in Ubud and learned that the monkey's can be very mischievous and aggressive!  When you are surrounded by a gang of monkey's you need to have 360 degrees of monkey vision.  I did a quick calculation and realized that I was severely out numbered and covered in sparkling jewelry!  That that very moment HE sprung 20 feet and straddled my body.  His feet were stuck in my purple sarong wrapped around my waist, one hand was on my back and the other hand grasping the tassel of my necklace which was pulling on my neck.

I found the tassel on my way out!

 I freaked!  This is equivalent to jumping around while screaming and flaying my arms.  As I was thrashing around I made contact with the monkey with my arm and he flew off my body, went flying in the air and landed on another Asian lady walking behind me.  She went into immediate hysteria!  Crying, screaming, and climbing on her husband.  I took one look at her and several monkey's were still in my line of vision, so I got the hell out of there as fast as I could run.  I got to the bottom of the hill to reflect upon my line of destruction.  The Asian lady was still dealing with monkey on her back.  I felt bad for the lady and all of this could have been avoided if only I would have followed the instructions posted on the sign!

Snake Liquor

Eric came home this evening bearing gifts.  His 10th graders went on a field trip and returned back to school with welcoming gifts for both of us.  The first gift bag was for Eric and it contained a hand carved coconut with the image of the three wise monkey's.  Together the monkey's embody the proverbial principle to "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil".  I loved it!  So, I couldn't wait to open my gifts.

Look closely!

My gifts were individually wrapped in a hand woven bamboo wine bag.  If truth be told, I would have been 100% content with the bag, but there were more gifts inside.  The first gift was wrapped in newspaper and was the larger of the two gifts.  Inside it contained a salad serving set made out of bamboo. Again, another thoughtful gift. You can image my excitement as I tore into the last gift wrapped in purple packaging.  I could feel that it was a small bottle filled with liquid so I immediately assume that it was perfume.  I was thinking to myself as I unwrapped the gift that it was refreshing to know that the 10th grade Vietnamese kids were so considerate and thoughtful!  Upon opening the gift, a small bottle filled with amber liquid sat in my hands.  It took me a few minutes for my brain to register that I was holding a small bottle filled with liquid and stuffed with a Cobra snake. Now  remember that there are three things that freak the beegeebies out of me: 1)snakes, 2)rats, and 3)bats.  I am holding a snake in my hands!



I gently set the bottle down on the table and considered the following. Why? What inspired the kids to buy this gift?  What is this?  What do I do with this? Does it contain medicinal powers? I was clueless so typed the name on the label into Google and found out that I received snake liquor, and I am supposed to drink this liquid.  I am thinking that I will save this bottle and auction it off to the highest bidder.  Any takers? 

Rat in the pool

Eric and I live in a gated community right on the Saigon River and the resort is fully equipped with many amenities including a pool that I swim laps in every morning after yoga.  This brings me much pleasure and enjoyment!  So the other evening I was expressing my appreciation and gratitude for this opportunity and bragging to another resident that I get 100% solitude in my swim because I swim at a time of the day in which everyone else is at work.  Lori, who has been living here at the resort since last August, looks at me and says, "ya, I used to swim in the morning until I got attacked by a rat."  What!

There are three things that really freak the beegeebies out of me: 1)snakes, 2) rats, and 3) bats so this new information is not OK by me!  I will not share MY pool with rats!  I am still processing this information through my brain when I hear Eric say,  "well that make sense, they come right out of the river and into the pool."  This logical thought process has never crossed my mind.  I turned and looked at Lori and told her that this new knowledge does not serve me and I will no longer be able to swim blissfully without thinking of rats.

She felt compelled to further share the details of the attack.  She was swimming around 5:30AM before all of the Asian men take over the pool.  At this hour, there is no resort supervision on staff so the lights are not on in the pool.  Lori claims that she felt the rat crawl over her shoulder and it's claw got stuck in her bathing suit strap and got tangled.  Needless to say, this was traumatic for Lori and she has only swam in the pool twice since this occurrence.  She reassures me that since I swim in the daylight that I should not have issues.  You can best bet that I will be on the rat patrol day and night! 

Little did I know!

It was a half hour prior to my departure for my first Vietnamese class and one of Eric’s teachers from school asked me why I was traveling downtown for a class when they offered language classes to expats down the street at a neighborhood restaurant named Snap and I could walk there in five minutes.  Hmm, good question.  At that moment, I seriously contemplated not going to the class that I informally committed to the night before via the phone.  I knew that I was in trouble when I couldn't understand my instructor over the phone.  I considered it a major issue that I couldn't pronounce her name, Kim Vi Tran Lam and she kept referring to herself as Vee and I just didn't get it! How was I going to learn to speak Vietnamese from a person whose English I didn't understand?!?

She sent me an email welcoming me to the class. It outlined the five week itinerary.   Lesson one, What is your name?  In a moment of panic, I emailed her back to ask her if there were basic requirements for the class and I explained that I didn't even know the alphabet and I was seriously starting on square one!  She reassured me that the attendees had zero foundation of the Vietnamese language, so do not worry.

Please remember that I am hearing impaired and I honestly didn't think that I had a fighting chance in hell in understanding the minute details of the Vietnamese language.  It is a tonal language and just the rise and fall of the pitch of your voice determines the literal meaning of the word.  I figured that at least I could learn to read the language and perhaps that might improve my chances of sounding out the words and somewhat succeed in communication with the locals.

Part of the adventure was finding this lady’s house.  I traveled via taxi to District 3 during rush hour traffic.  I felt prepared with the complete address 51/67/1 Cao Thang Street and a Google map on my  I phone to give to the non-English speaking driver.  The map included a 5 block radius so I thought I had it covered.  Not!  The driver dropped me off on the main road, 1 Cao Thang Street.  Foolishly, I assumed that I was in the vicinity.  Well, not exactly.  1 Cao Thang Street covers the entire distance of the road.  I did not know this and I basically assumed that I was lost.  Somewhere in my upbringing I was taught that if I needed help in any desperate situations I should ask a man in uniform and he would graciously help me without any questions.  So, when I stumbled into the military compound for the district and asked for directions the man in uniform was unable to act as my knight in shining armor.  He looked at me with a stone face and quickly escorted me out of the compound and left me standing on the street in a middle of a swarming pod of motor scooters.  I stood there, firmly gripping my purse with one hand and squinting to read the small print of the map on my phone while wearing my utilitarian high heeled sandals because I foolishly thought I was getting door to door taxi service.  I swallowed my pride and paraded up and down the same block 4-5 times before a young man in broken English explained to me that I needed to walk down the street for several blocks until a found a plaque on the street identifying the alley number 51.  I found it, OK great.  Now I watched the plaques on both sides of the street to find the number 67.  I was the only white girl walking around the neighborhood as the sun was setting and people were sitting on the street after their evening dinner rapidly speaking in a native tongue that was completely incomprehensible to my ears.  What was I thinking?!?  Seriously, I have no chance in hell understanding this language and now I am putting myself in danger.  Finally, I found where 67 should have been, but there was a gap in the sequence of the numbers on the outside of the building.  I stood dead still in my tracks when I remembered that earlier in the day I had a Vietnamese lady from the residence service center at my resort write down on a piece of paper in Vietnamese, “please help me, I am lost” including the address.  A very nice elderly lady smiled a toothless grin when she read my note and politely pointed down another alley.

 

The final alley was maybe three foot in width and I was walking at a good clip when a motor scooter road up behind me right on my heels and proceeded to pass me in a very tight corridor.  This was pushing me to my limit and I was getting scared when a young lady stepped out of a door and magically welcomed me to the class.  I was 15 minutes late and the second to arrive.

Scott, an economics teacher from New York, who has been living in Vietnam for the last 3 years, was the other student.  They were sounding out the alphabet.  The letter “a” has three pronunciations and we had to repeat after the teacher based on hearing alone.  All of that effort and I am still screwed!  

"I am married"

Eric and I have chosen to set up temporary housing for the next four months at Riverside.  Riverside is a resort that is located in District 2 in HCMC.  It has 12 buildings with four floors and a rooftop overlooking the Saigon River and the downtown skyline.  It is fully equipped with a restaurant, pool, spa, workout facility with tennis courts, coffee shop, mini mart, laundry, and housekeeping services. It caters to the the working expat community primarily employed at the four international schools in the district, so the tenants are blend of Americans, Australian, British, French, German, Chinese, and Scottish.  So when speaking with other tenants you never know who speaks English and to what degree.

I have made it a personal quest to break the language and cultural barriers and engage in conversation with as many people as possible, especially those that live in my building.  This evening I enthusiastically charged a middle aged female from China entering my building and introduced myself, "Hi, I am Mary." Eric was right behind me and I started to introduce my husband and she said, "yes, your husband, I am married too."  I misunderstood what she said and I assumed that her name was Mary too!  I was delighted that I would be able to pronounce and remember her name that I literally skipped out the building.  Eric was walking behind me with a smirk on his face and began the simple translation.

They won't hit a kid.

They offered to escort us via water taxi to District 1, downtown HCMC, Vietnam to assure our safety in crossing the street.  Eric and I appreciated their generosity but didn't see the necessity of them holding our hands while we crossed the street.  After all, we have been taught as kids to stop at the curb and look both ways prior to crossing the street.  We have been doing this since kindergarten.  How hard can it be?

We got off the boat around 4 PM on a Saturday afternoon without a map and proceeded to the nearest cross walk to make our way across the roundabout toward the heart of downtown.  Eric looked at me as we approached the street and said, “follow this guy, he looks like he knows what he is doing plus he is carrying a kid.”  We banked on the concept that the scooters would not hit a kid and started our execution to the other side of the road.  Once you commit don’t look back and keep moving regardless of the massive moving pods of people on motor scooters!  We made it to the other side with all of our moving pieces and parts still intact.  Next time, we will try in rush hour traffic, thankfully we had our wills updated prior to leaving the states.  

Dog is on!

It was the morning of our departure and my face was plastered to the window overlooking the plane we were about to board.  My tears were still drying on my face from dropping off Pukkah, our Welsh Corgi,  at the cargo terminal and I was extremely stressed about her safety and comfort.  I stood there straining to see her as she boarded the plane.  At last I was 80% sure that I saw her crate and was relieved to know that she at least made it on the same plane as us.  When Eric and I boarded the plane I needed 100% certainty that she was “with us” so Eric inquired with the laid back stewardess and she promised to check with the Captain and report back to us in our seats. 

We were about to take off and we were seated in the very back of the plane and I was convinced that the nice stewardess had forgotten about her commitment to report back to us.  I didn't have the courage to push the stewardess’s button so I made myself as big as possible by standing in the back of the plane to make myself noticeable to the flight attendants while commenting to Eric, “I just need know without a doubt that Pukkah is with us”.  On que, a man came on over the intercom (without a formal introduction) in a low gruff male voice and in monosyllables announced three simple words.  Dog is on!  Eric and I looked at each other and immediately started clapping and whooping and hollering in the very back of the plane and we could not understand why everyone else on the plane was not joining in the celebration!