Santa Babies

Warning: This post is image heavy. Not dial-up friendly.

While there is a minority group of devout Christians in Vietnam, Christmas here is out and out an insanely commercial holiday. It is not a national holiday but it's still celebrated like consumerism is going out of style. All the stores had sales and lights and fake trees with fake presents under them were everywhere. In downtown district 1, there were displays with fake snow, Santa, reindeer, snowmen made out of Styrofoam and lights, and all sorts of other festive decorations. My friend Mike has some awesome pictures over at his blog of one display that included a giant foil cannon. Check it out.

There is also an enormous light display in district 1 that I tried to take pictures of last week, but the lights weren't turned on until the day after Christmas for some reason... Another major fail, in my opinion, was the "tree" made out of giant, fake Corona beer bottles at the beer garden next to my house. Alas, I do not have pictures. It was too tacky and sad to warrant photographic evidence.


One rather odd and interesting fad here is that little kids wear Santa outfits for Christmas. They range from cheap material to nice, velvety ones and can be bought on virtually every street corner. The boys wear actual Santa outfits with hats and belts, and the girls where Santa dresses. I have no idea where or how this started, and I find it insanely bizarre, especially because Santa is supposed to be an old man with white hair and a beard, but I have to confess that my students looked adorable in their outfits. One student (my favorite, actually) even had a little fake beard with his outfit.


We had a Christmas concert at the elementary school I work at last Wednesday, the day before winter break, and all the students wore these outfits. This was too cute not to have photographic evidence of. (Note: I teach at an international school so all the students have English names that they go by... And a few of them actually have English names as their real names.)

All of the students in the school, including the Vietnamese program.

Me with my main class.

Their classroom teacher bought them all presents. They went crazy opening them.

Tram Anh, my little 4 year old who doesn't speak any English aside from what I've taught her.

Kevin. He's my favorite.

Dean and Nick

Sebastian and Colin, with Tyler in the background

Tyler

Bill. He and Colin are twins.

Andy

John

Sebastian, singing in the concert

Somehow I ended up without a good picture of Christine, so here's one of her between Sebastian and Andy while they were singing in the concert.

One of the older classes also did two scenes from A Christmas Carol for the concert. Unfortunately, I don't have very good pictures of that, but here are a two:

Sam as Jacob Marley.

Beth as the ghost of Christmas past and Kevin as Scrooge.

I have a lot more pictures, but this post is already pretty full...


As for me, I spent Christmas day at my house, alternately cleaning my room, my bathroom, and the kitchen/living room floor and relaxing. I was invited to lunch at a friend's house, but the idea of spending Christmas with a room full of strangers made my stomach turn, so I didn't go. I did, however, get to talk to my family, which was brilliant. My dad has finally realized the advantages of turning on his Skype account as both he and one of my grandmas asked if they were seeing me in real time. Haha. Now let's see if he actually ever turns on his account. While my day wasn't exciting, it was still nice. Saturday's are my only days off, so I did what I always do.


I hope everyone had an awesome Christmas and/or whatever holiday you celebrate, and that many good things come to you all in the new year. Much love.

Orange Bananas, Happy Mediums, and Water Puppets

The other day I bit into a banana and the inside was orange. It was the first time I've felt surprised in a long time, which made me realize that I've gotten used to Saigon. All the things that were once weird or out of the ordinary have become everyday, ordinary things to me.

Even things that don't happen that often don't surprise me. For instance, last Monday the power went off at school for more than four hours. This has never happened while at school. It's happened at home, but never for that long. So, I was annoyed, but surprised? Not even close. (My usually lively kids were sluggish, listless and petulant due to the suffocating heat. Suffice it to say, we were all miserable. We ended up making paper fans in class.)

I'm glad to feel so comfortable here that I've mostly forgotten I'm in a foreign place. Of course, I am still aware of the many differences between here and home, but I rarely think about them anymore. This must mean I've found a happy medium, right? I've moved beyond the "everything sucks" phase and have come out the other side unscathed. I must admit that I'm sad to be so far out of the "honeymoon" phase, but I'm definitely happy to be in a more steady space. The highs are no longer as high, but the lows aren't so low either, which is nice.

I suspect having found a middle ground is due in large part to settling into a routine. I have the same schedule, for the most part, every week: I work from 8 to 5, Monday through Friday, at the elementary school, have Saturdays off, and have the same three classes on Sundays. Occasionally, I substitute week nights. It's true that I work too much, but other than that things are good. The only weird thing is that everything seems so normal...

Happily, there are still out of the ordinary days, too. One such day was the Friday before last. My whole school went on a field trip to see a traditional Vietnamese water puppet show. It was so cool!

The school booked a private viewing, so we had the whole theater to ourselves. When the curtains opened and soft lights lit a red temple with a pool of gray water in front of it, I had no idea what to expect. Off to the sides of the stage sat the musicians and voice actors, who began with a song as dragons popped out of the water and danced around the pool.The show was in Vietnamese, of course, but I understood the story to be about a folk festival in a small town. Each scene was made up of different characters in the town, including a quarreling husband and wife, mating birds, water-spitting dragons AND fire-spitting dragons, a boat race, dancing maidens, and several other animated characters. Every part of it was energetic and fun: the voice actors were funny, the music was beautiful, the lights were colorful, water was sprayed onto the audience, and the characters ranged from jubilant to wry. The kids loved it. The teachers loved it. I loved it. All in all, it was a joyful experience and I wouldn't mind going again.

(Pictures to come soon.)

Một, hai, ba, yo!

Seeing as another year in my life has passed, I thought it only appropriate to distill my current adventure into numbers. (This is an exercise I did in a creative nonfiction class once. I shamelessly stole the idea from a friend's blog. Please note that not all numbers are "accurate." It is the idea of the numbers.)

Number of:

Days abroad: 110. Days in Saigon: 94. Trips I've taken: 3. Jobs: 2. Students: 65. Roommates: 2. Days off in a week: 1. People who say hello to me when I go on a walk: 15. People who laugh when I say hello back: 15. Cups of coffee a day: 2. Mysterious foods I've eaten: 12. Pounds I've gained: I don't want to know. Times I've been to the gym: 0. E-mails I've sent: 317. Times I've been sick: 5. Meals with rice: 101. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches: 64. Deaths: 2. Motobike accidents I've been in: 1. Almost accidents: 78. Motobike accidents I've seen: 1 (a surprisingly low number). People who stare at me: everyone. Postcards sent: 18. Letters sent: 2. Paychecks: 4. Dollars spent: too many. Favorite students: 4. Students I don't particularly like: 2. Vietnamese words I know: 52. Vietnamese words I say correctly: 0. Blog posts: 8. Blogs I read: 10. Books I've read: 1 (also a surprisingly low number). People in Vietnam: 86 million. People in Saigon: 7,162,864. Bugs I've killed: 2.3 million. Movies I've seen in theater: 2. Boat rides: 4. Times I've been called "madam": 88. Times I've been called "mister": 10. Days it has rained: 100. Days it has been cool: 0. Times I've thought, "I love it here": 8. Times I've thought, "I hate it here": 10. People I miss: everyone. Times I've wondered what I'm doing here: 0. Daydreams about Scotland: 22. Questions: 1,017. Answers: 2. Possibilities: countless. Years in my life: 23.

This could go on forever and I might come back to it again, but I think this is enough for now.

Note: the title of this post is a Vietnamese drinking toast. It translates as, "One, two, three, drink!"

Getting Away

Last Friday, miracle of miracles, I had the day off. So I went to Mui Ne, a small beach town about five hours from Saigon by bus, for two days. Friday, I took a small tour of the area and saw the nearby fishing village, white sand dunes and yellow sand dunes. On Saturday, all I did was take a long walk on the beach before heading back to the city. Overall, it was a pleasant and much-needed get-away.

Both Friday and Saturday were overcast, so my pictures aren't stellar, but without further ado, I present my weekend in the form of a photo essay:

Unfortunately, I didn't get to go down into the fishing village, but the views from above were impressive.

Close-up of fishing boats.

I thought these small, round boats were just for holding the fish, but I saw a man inside one, using a long oar to move around.

The white sand dunes were soft and stunning.

They were also crowded. Countless footsteps and four-wheeler tracks marred the ground.

The yellow sand dunes were more orange than yellow, but still magnificent.

One tricky camera angle that turned out rather well, even if I do say so myself.

The sun decided to peek out just as it was setting.

Luckily, the tide, which comes right up to the breakers when it's in, decided to go out on Saturday morning.

One of the few strips along the beach that contained people's homes and not big resorts.

Despite the gloominess of all these pictures, the day was warm and balmy, and my walk was one of the most satisfying and pleasant things I've done since arriving in Southeast Asia.

Two little girls who just wanted me to take their picture.

And lastly, just because I feel like sharing, here is a cool picture I took on Friday:

I call this camera effect, "Through the window."

In case you couldn't tell from my last post, I needed to get out of the city for a while and Mui Ne fit the bill nicely. It was so quiet there, and the beach was so nice. I'll definitely be going back at some point.

Doubts

The honeymoon is over. I am no longer happy or excited about everything. Instead I am knee-deep in frustration and worry.

Most of these feelings stem from my job working at an international school. Saigon, while by no means perfect--it's dirty, crowded and loud--still has it's good points. For instance, I'm still in love with the food. In fact, I've started eating more vegan and vegetarian food recently and it is amazing. They have a vegan answer for every part of an animal including chicken necks and fried eggs! Isn't that crazy? And the craziest part is that most of it actually tastes like meat! Not the "fried eggs" though. Those taste (and look) nothing like what they're standing in for. Though, they're not bad either.


Anyway, I've been floundering a bit in my job. As mentioned in a past post, I don't have a curriculum or textbooks at my school. I make up every lesson as I go. Seeing as how I have no background in education and my TESOL certification course didn't really prepare me for young learners, I really don't feel suited for the job. I worry every day about whether I'm doing any good, if I'm actually teaching my kids anything and if I am, is it what they need to know?

Education here is so unbelievably backwards. This is not a case of orientalism. It really is backwards. Schools are first and foremost businesses. They think about money before anything else, including the education of their pupils. This horrifies me. It's all bureaucratic crap. I can't even get textbooks for my kids because the school is hung up on the cost of everything and making sure that the parents pay for it.


I can't help but feel disheartened. As a teacher, I am responsible for the education of my students. This is a huge responsibility, especially due to the fact that all of my students are little kids. They are totally relying on me to be the authority on the English language. On top of that, I am also responsible for teaching one of my students how to read and write (as well as the development of these skills for the rest of my students). I don't know how to do this and I'm scared that I'm going to fail, not for my sake but for his. He's only six and he trusts me. I, however, do not trust myself because I, unlike my students, am aware of my failings and the fact that I'm not equipped with the knowledge or tools that this job demands of me.

To make matters worse, I am sick. Again. This is the fifth time since I've been here. So, overall, I've been a very cranky Clara lately.

Honestly, I'm more than a little overwhelmed by my full-time job. If I had known what I was getting into before I took the position, I probably wouldn't have accepted the job. Now, of course, I'm totally in love with my kids and couldn't possibly leave them. They really are adorable. Even when they're driving me crazy, I still love them.

To battle my doubts, I've tried to look at the situation as a growth experience, which it certainly has been. I've learned a lot about what I am and am not capable of. Being abroad has allowed me time to reflect on a lot of things as well. My perspective is changing all the time. I think I'm going to come out of my time here with more direction, maybe some answers, and hopefully more mature.

As of right now, I'm still not sure whether teaching is what I want to do with my life. Answering that question is too big and daunting. The world is full of possibilities, and I'm playing with countless ideas and options. However, one thing I've learned already is that if teaching is in my future, it won't be as an elementary school teacher. Teaching kids is an extremely high energy job and I just don't have the right personality for it. I love working with kids, but it's difficult for me to have to be "on" every day, all the time. More often than not, I find it draining. And, frankly, I just don't think I'm that good at it.

I'm glad to have discovered this so early on, though. A few days ago, I had a great talk with my aunt who is a first grade teacher and she helped me realize that knowing teaching kids isn't right for me is okay. Just because I know that and am still teaching them right now doesn't make me a bad teacher. I'm still trying and I still care, so I can't be that horrible at it... Right?

It was also great talking with her because she gave me some good ideas for teaching kids, especially for teaching reading. I now feel like I have some direction for my little non-reader. She was also amazingly supportive and reassuring about the job I'm doing. I am very grateful to her. (Much love, dear aunt!)

P.S.--Happy Thanksgiving!

Impressions, Curiosities, and Other Such Details

Here are some of those pesky details I neglected to share before:

Saigon (or HCMC) is a city full of movement and noise. The street I live off of is one of the main roads that connects several districts and there is absolutely no time of day where it's not overflowing with motobikes and other vehicles. Crossing the street is an exercise in living dangerously. Thankfully, I've mastered this hazard. The trick: look both ways at once--even if it's a one way street--and don't hesitate.

Traffic here is the worst I've ever seen and that includes both Chicago and Portland at rush hour. The reason it's so awful, however, is because there don't seem to be any rules of the road. Motos pull out onto streets without looking, turn left at stoplights, drive on the sidewalk, turn around in the middle of busy streets, cut through dense rows of traffic, and generally don't think about their safety or anyone else's. They do all of these things at speed, too. Everything about getting around in this city is dangerous. There's no space on sidewalks to walk because that's where people park their motos and if there is space, people drive on it. And then actual taxis are so slow because they're swarmed by motos and can't maneuver as easily, so if you take one, you're in danger of spending quite a bit of money. The people who ride their bikes--mostly school children--are the bravest of all. The thought of riding a bike on Saigon's streets terrifies me. They're so slow--I'd never be able to get out of the way of some idiot swerving into the road.
My older brother's friend who lives here has kindly offered to teach me to ride a moto. I've only had one lesson so far and I'm not that bad. However, I don't know if I'll ever have the courage to actually drive with other vehicles on the road. I definitely need more practice. Right now I'm sticking to moto taxis to get around.

As you can imagine, all this traffic makes for a cacophony of noise. People use their horns about every 30 seconds telling people that they're passing them, which they do haphazardly between encroaching buses, cars, buildings and walls of motos. (I'm surprised every day that more people don't get into serious accidents by the way people drive here.) I went to the opera house a couple of weeks ago to see a classical music concert. The building is located in the heart of downtown district 1 and throughout the performance I could hear the traffic zooming and honking by.

Then there are the fruit vendors who push their carts, yelling in high-pitched, nasal voices the name of what fruit they're selling. One woman goes down the alley I live in several times a day. I don't know what she's selling but her voice sounds like a whining, yowling cat.

Also, there seems to be construction going on everywhere, in every part of the city, at all times of the day. People start their days early here because of the heat, so a typical day for me starts to the sounds of hammers, drills, saws and other noisy, noisy tools.

Saigon is a growing city and I expect it will have drastically changed by the time I leave. The frightening part, however, is that the divide between the rich and the poor continues to widen as well. There doesn't seem to be a middle class at all here. The rapid expansion of the city has made some people very wealthy while making the poor even poorer. Within that divide, there is also the peculiar propensity for laziness and ambition. I don't know how, but they seem to be two sides of the same coin. One of my coworkers the other day compared poverty here to the chicken and the egg. Are Vietnamese people so poor because they're lazy, or are they lazy because they're poor?--meaning, there's no point in working hard if you're not going to see an equal return. I'm not really sure. On the one hand, capitalism is rampant here. Everybody has a job, everybody wants a job, and they all want money--lots of it. Sometimes everything here seems to be about money--making it and having it. Yet, the moto taxi drivers are always asleep on their bikes (I wish I had a picture!) and the security guards who watch parked motos take turns napping. None of them read a book or do a crossword. They either sit and talk all day or they nap. I'm not judging--I'd probably nap as well if I was allowed to doing that job. It must be incredibly boring. However, I know that in the States, if you napped every day at regular intervals while at work, you'd be fired in a heartbeat.

These are just my impressions so far. I'm still puzzling things out and I don't meant to say every Vietnamese person is the same. For all I know, these things could be particular to Saigon. I don't know.

What I do know, is that everyone I've encountered has been friendly and welcoming. Whenever I talk with a Vietnamese person they are always curious about me. Though sometimes their frankness is a bit startling. In Vietnam, some of the first questions you're asked are how old you are and if you have a boyfriend/girlfriend. People here are very preoccupied by boy/girl relationships, which is strange seeing as young people don't really date until they're in college. Also, it's okay here to comment on someone's bad appearance if it's in the past. Meaning, it's common to say something to the affect of "Before you were fat but you look great today." A Vietnamese friend told me that people here let things stay in the past and focus more on the present. So to say that to someone is not at all offensive because it doesn't matter that you used to be fat; today you aren't and that's what matters. I kind of like this way of thinking, even if I don't really want people to tell me I looked ugly the day before. Haha.

Appearances here mean a lot, too. All the men always wear button-up shirts and slacks, while the women dress very nicely and wear high heels with everything. Or flip flops. Everybody here wears flip flops all the time, even to most jobs. But then, women wearing their pajamas out and about is acceptable, too. Granted, their pajamas always match and are well-fitted, but still, it's weird. It's also common for men to take off their shirts when it gets too hot. And, as far as I can tell, everybody picks their nose.

I told one of my TAs at my language school the other day that should looked nice. She was wearing a fitted black skirt and a black blouse with heels. She told me that she liked black because it's slimming and she is fat. I literally did a double-take. Her frankness shocked me, but she also seemed to be embarrassed by it. And she's not fat. She may have bigger bones than most of the skinny, twig women here, but she's very, very far from being fat. In fact, she's slim and very nicely shaped.

I'm still getting used to varying appearances here--what's acceptable and what isn't. You might all be shocked to know that I wear slacks and cardigans with cute, black flats every day. The change from t-shirts and jeans wasn't really that weird for me, but I've actually discovered a lot about what I can do and do comfortably since I've been here.

Apparently, I sing. I know. This is madness, but I do. For little kids, that is.

I also have more patience than I--or anyone else, probably--thought possible. I think I might actually like teaching kids more than adults... Or well, at least more than teenagers. Haha.

I can also be clever and crafty under pressure. Yesterday, I wanted to print some Halloween coloring pages for one of my classes but the internet was down at my school. Instead of panicking, I sat down and drew my own. They were by no means brilliant drawings, but I managed a decent Pac Man ghost, a vampire, a witch, and quite a cute pumpkin. Needless to say, I was proud of myself. In fact, I'd go so far as to say I am Queen of the Metis. (If you get this, you are truly a wonder and I love you.)

But I've also discovered that it's easier for me to feel lonely than I thought. And that I'm a workaholic. (It must be genetic. Hello Dad, Mom, Steve, Shannon...) And that sometimes my antisocial tendencies bother people.

Oh well. As I say, life is a process and I am working through it.

Miss Clara

So, I'm sick of playing catch up, as you can probably tell from my lack of updates. Here's what you need to know: my course ended; I moved into a house with two other women from my program; they're great; I went on interviews for different schools; I was hired by two different schools; thus, I have a full time job and a part time job.

Everything else is filler.

Actually, no. Everything else is detail, which is a lot more interesting. However, I don't feel like going into all the details. Ask me if you'd like to know something specific.

What I really want to talk about: my jobs--but not really. Just one of them.


1. I am an English language teacher for an English language school. (Redundant.) I teach three classes on Sundays and sometimes substitute weekday evenings. I have a class of six to eight year olds, a class of eight to twelve year olds (roughly), and a class of four year olds. All of them are a handful. But they're a lot of fun and despite the fact that each class is two hours long, except the four year olds, which is an hour and a half, it goes by really quickly. Teaching younger kids was not my first choice, but they're so eager and funny and I love them. I thought this was going to be a lot harder than it actually is. Don't get me wrong--teaching is difficult, just ask any teacher you know. The thing is--I love it. It might be hard and some days are certainly better than others, but it's also a lot of fun. I feel energized after I've taught a class, which is exciting. When the kids are having fun AND enjoying learning, I feel like I'm on top of the world.


2. My other job--the one I really want to talk about--is crazy. Capital C-R-A-Z-Y. CRAZY. (Get it yet?) I am the English language teacher at an international elementary school. It's Monday through Friday from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. and I mostly teach pre-3 with a few fourth and fifth graders.


How I got the job: I interviewed for an English teaching job at a high school. Then I got a call about a week later and was asked if I'd be interested in working at the elementary school instead. I went in to interview again and was told that the job was going to be helping the kids with their English because all the classes are taught in English and it would only be part time. Then I met with a series of people the same day who all asked me questions--very few of them about the job or my experience. Then I was hired. Full time.


Basically, a job opened suddenly at this school and the guy who'd initially interviewed me for the high school position liked me, so he offered me the job. That's it. He liked me and now I have a full time job. CRAZY. But also AWESOME.


The really CRAZY part: there's no curriculum at my school. I don't have a textbook. The regular classroom teachers don't have a curriculum and have very few textbooks. It's not just crazy, it's unbelievable.


There are eleven kids in the pre-3 class--we just got a new student today. One of the kids doesn't speak a word of English and she's a preschooler, so she can't even read in her own language. This horrifies me. I have no idea what she's doing in an international school. What it comes down to is that this school is here to make money and parents with money want their kids to go to an international school. It's more prestigious or something. However, I don't think parents are aware--or maybe they just don't care?--that we don't have a curriculum. I don't know.


There are three other teachers in the international school. They all teach subjects whereas I just teach English. The guys are great. I feel lucky to be working with such an honest, caring group of teachers. We're all in the same boat--none of us have much of anything and none of us are qualified--as in have teaching degrees or backgrounds in education other than teaching English here--so we're definitely here to help each other and to give our kids the best education that we possibly can. I feel particularly lucky to be working with the pre-third grade teacher because we get along so well and have a lot of the same ideas and understanding of what we're here to do.


Despite the fact that I have nothing to work with, I adore this job. I never have more than six kids at a time; I work with some great people; and the kids are awesome. I'm having a lot of fun. The kids are adorable and they're always so eager to tell me things. I hear, "Miss Clara! Miss Clara!" all day long.


I never thought I'd enjoy being an elementary school teacher but here I am and it's amazing. Each day is different and I feel like I'm making a difference. How cool is that?

I've been at the school for a week now and we're actually talking to the head of the English Language Development (ELD) at the high school in order to start building a curriculum, which is amazing. Hopefully, things will start moving forward and we can start giving these kids what they need in order to learn and thrive.


(P.S.--Another crazy thing: all the kids--preschool to fifth grade--take an hour long nap after lunch... This is flabbergasting. Why? They lose so much time when they're taking a nap! And most of the Vietnamese people who work here take a nap when the kids are. Very strange.)

Weeks 3 and 4: Student Teaching

After our Sihanoukville beach weekend, we all went to our teaching destinations. On Sunday, September 12, seven of us caught a bus to Ho Chi Minh City (aka Saigon) in Vietnam.

Driving in at night was a rush of neon lights and whizzing, honking motorbikes.

Rush hour traffic. Scary, scary.

My first week in Vietnam was hard. I got sick right off the bat and ended up going to see a doctor during our first day of student teaching. Luckily, I just had a nasty cold, not dengue fever. The next day, I managed to get through my first actual teaching class only with a lot of help from one of our instructors. I had eight to 13 year old students who had more energy than I could keep up with, especially seeing as I hadn't started the day with any actual energy...

Regardless of my weak start, every day got a little bit better and I discovered something: I really like teaching. I know what you're thinking: shouldn't I have known that before I set off to teach English in a foreign country for a year? Well, I had an inkling but no real experience, so let me tell you, it was a relief to realize I like it. And I'm not half bad at it either, which, of course, helps the whole liking it thing. It makes me feel good about where I'm at in my life right now. Helping others in their education is one of the most rewarding things I've ever done. Yeah, I had bad days--student teaching is difficult--but most days I found myself energized after class.

Those two weeks of student teaching were equally as intensive as the first two weeks, but in different ways. In Cambodia, we didn't have a lot of free time because we were in class learning how to teach. We started at the same time in Vietnam--9 a.m.--but we ended at all different times of the day. My first week in HCM, I was at school from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. We had Vietnamese language classes in the morning, then an hour and a half with one of our instructors either helping us write our lesson plans or going over resumes or talking about how to teach Vietnamese students, and in the afternoon and evenings we taught our own classes. Even though I didn't teach until 5:30 p.m. that first week, I was still at school until then every day because I was planning my lessons.

Those two weeks were full of long days. Fortunately, we had another adventure our first weekend in Vietnam. One of our students invited us to go to a water park. It was unlike any water park I've ever been to and it was awesome.

Water park on the Saigon River.

The water park had no rides, no lines and very little of it was man made. Stretching along a portion of the Saigon River, the water park hosted a few water slides that went into the river, a few platforms to jump off of, a line of floating devices on the water that you're supposed to try to run as far as you can on, and some canoes. The rest of the water park consisted of huts with tables and/or hammocks. The student who invited us even brought a traveling stove and a wok, and he fried up some spring rolls, noodles and veggies for us.

Yum.

It's monsoon season here, so it inevitably downpoured on us. But swimming in the river, reading a book in a hammock, eating good food, and playing card games in a hut with good people made for an awesome day. I also learned that Vietnamese people swim in shorts and t-shirts. Some people wear real bathing suits but keep their clothes on--even the men. Very strange.

The fourth week was much the same as the third. However, I had the same group of students for the entire week. They were roughly 18 to 26 and the best group of students ever. I had a lot of fun teaching them and I definitely would like to keep teaching that age group. There's more room to build a report with older students and, while they don't usually get my jokes, they still appreciate that I have a sense of humor.

At the end of my fourth week abroad, class was over. We had a party at a Mexican restaurant of all places and we received our certificates. All in all, the course was difficult, time-consuming and fun. I learned a lot and I'm glad I had the opportunity to take it.

Catching up: Cambodia

As most of you are probably aware, I set out for southeast Asia at the end of August in order to take a Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (TESOL) certification course. The first two weeks of the program were in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

The elephant that walked around the park every day.

Class started on August 30 and it was intensive. Monday through Friday from 9 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. left little room for exploration. I did manage to make it out to S.21, the genocide museum, with two others from my class during lunch one day, but the experience didn't engender the desire for more such outings. Mostly, I went to class, did homework and got to know the other 23 awesome people in my class.

The first weekend, we went on a scheduled trip to the city of Siem Reap to visit ancient temples, most notably that of Angkor Wat.

Angkor Wat somewhere between 5 and 6 a.m.

The visit to Angkor Wat was one of the most moving experiences of my life. The temple itself is huge, made out of massive stones that were dragged by elephants from over 100 kilometers away. Stone was set atop stone without any mortar in between and then carved into intricate designs and statues. It's a marvel that it still stands today. Inside the temple, I was at once overwhelmed by its sheer magnitude and overcome with feelings of peace and calm--I'm not sure why this last is true, seeing as how there were swarms of people there, but once it started to rain, the temple felt like the calmest place on Earth to me.

On the second weekend, right before all of us went our separate ways to our own teaching destinations, we went on another trip. This time to Sihanoukville, a beach town on the Gulf of Thailand. There we rented a boat and went island hopping for several hours. It was overcast but the water was warm and the views were beautiful.

The island we stopped on to play volleyball, swim and read.
(Okay that last one was really just me and one other girl...)

As my first taste of southeast Asia, I loved Cambodia. Phnom Penh is a lazy, relaxed city full of sweet, friendly people. My favorite part (that I wish I had photos of but alas do not) was the masses of teenagers dancing to Justin Bieber in the park every night at 5:30. I don't know how it came to be but every night at the same time, people would set up stereo systems and blast pop and hip hop music all over the park. In front of each sound system would be a group of teenagers--anywhere from five to 150 of them--performing the same dance together. It was amazing. If I were still in Phnom Penh, I'd join them for some good, sweaty exercise every day.

The Blog That Never Was...

Talk about a mental block... How do people write blogs, anyway? Every time I've sat down to make this blog, I've hit a wall. The idea of all of my thoughts and words out there for the whole world to read... It's daunting, to say the least.

But I've promised to write a blog, so here I am attempting it. As the title says, I'm going to report what is real for me at this moment in my life--or as real as I can be on the world wide web without getting into trouble.

I hope it's not too late to play catch up...