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23 August 2007

AmeRicana

So I was driving to the grocery store, running some errands for my mom today. I had my window rolled down, listening to some music (in English, quite unusual for me) and was waiting to turn out of the development when this kid who's in a car that's speeding past me sticks his head out the window and yells: "GET OUT!"

I sit there for a minute, in shock. What did he just say? And then it's clear. This little punk told me to get out. Get out of what? My own country?

I didn't have time to give him the history lesson: No, punk, I'm PUERTO RICAN. That means I'm a US citizen. No really, I was born a US citizen, and so were my parents and so was my grandma. My great-grandmother, she became a citizen in 1917 with the passage of the Jones Act because the US needed some more manpower to help fight in World War I and President Woodrow Wilson thought he'd pick up some soldiers in the US's Caribbean colony. And actually, my daddy is a colonel in the US Army. So, what was that again? Get out? Yeah, I thought so.

This, I'm sure, is a result of the anti-immigrant sentiment that seems to be settling on this nation. Personal baggage and politics aside, I know that immigration cannot continue unchecked at the same pace; not only for the good of the US, but also for the good of the nations that are losing hardworking citizens by the thousands. I KNOW this. Something has to be done. But at the same time, this crackdown has allowed for all these prejudices simmering just under the surface to rise. And I can feel it.

I'm a well-educated woman. I know the difference between lay and lie, between good and well, between your and you're; which is more than I can say for a large number of "real" Americans. ;) I've been in this country since I was four, and I'm an American. Not only in the broad continental sense, but in the specific estadounidense sense - I'm from the US. And what would the US be without that ethnic diversity? Not the US, that's what.

I'm a brown-eyed, brown-haired, brown-skinned Latina, and I can't hide that. My mouth spills forth both Spanish and English with equal ease. I'm that border child, the one with a foot on each side, blending together a hybrid culture. And I'm proud of that. But having said that, I have just as much right to this land as the blondest, tallest, whitest person.

And even if I didn't have that right, that cowardly act, that shout of "GET OUT!" as you zoom by safely in your car, that's not going to get anyone anywhere. Land of the brave, huh?

20 August 2007

Insomniac

I haven't been sleeping well. Haven't really adjusted to the time difference or the food difference or the differences in climate. Since I returned from Germany back in '99 (my gosh, I sound like my father...) I haven't understood the American obsession with A/C. I can't stand it. Everywhere I go, I'm freezing, and while everyone walks around in capris and tanks and shorts, I'm wearing two shirts, jeans, and a sweater. Oh, there is something wrong with me....

I'm up till four most nights. Last night, I was tossing and turning, reading, writing, looking at pictures, until midnight. Then I finally gave in and snuck downstairs to locate some Tylenol PM. I took it, then waited another hour, hour and a half, before I fell asleep. My mom woke me up at about 10 this morning, maybe earlier. I decided I need to go back to my apartment if only so that I can sleep all day, because I'm not getting any sleep at night. This'll be a rough adjustment once classes start up again.

I'm finally to the point where Western food doesn't make me physically ill, though it took a while. I guess my love for Mexican food pushed me beyond my limits until my stomach decided it really could deal with corn tortillas. ;) If only my love for an early bedtime could be so trained - granted, I've never had much love for early bedtimes, so maybe that's my problem.
On top of that, there's something wrong with my internet connection and something wrong with the USB port on my parents' computer which has made my efforts to upload all 700+ photos of Vietnam futile. Yeah, you read that right: more than 700 pics. Thank God for 2G memory cards, huh?

Other than that, I've got to go in to work a few times this week, including helping out with the Freshmen Fair on Friday and Saturday. It'll be good to get back in the swing of things.

My mom is paranoid that I may have bird flu since I'm always tired and my throat's a bit sore, but I blame the jet lag and her hyperactive A/C-fan combination, respectively. (Seriously, this house is cold!) I did oblige her in looking up some doctors that take my insurance whom I may or may not call to make an appointment. In my mind, the only things worse than going to the doctor are going to the dentist or going to DMV. Basically, unless things get REALLY bad, I'm not going.

Ugh, this is dull... I'm heading home - to my place, that is. I think I need a good work out to get the endorphins flowing and to sit in front of the tv and watch whatever Netflix pick I've got in this week. I'm craving some ché, maybe some bun cha... MMMMM! Bun cha!

I've got to call Comcast about fixing my stinkin' Internet connection. Stinkin' Comcast, charging me an arm and a leg and failing to deliver in their level of service... *sigh*

Okay, enough griping, I'm out.

14 August 2007

Back in VA

Well, I've been about four days back in country, five days out of Vietnam (I think), and a little over a week out of Vinh. I've got "Uoc Gi" on YouTube so I can get some of my Vietpop fix and I went out for pho' last night (believe it). I'm glad to see my family, glad to speak Spanish, glad to eat beans and tortillas (even though I'm Puerto Rican and that's not really MY food, per se...) but I do miss Vietnam a bit. I miss fresh nuoc mia and the simple pleasures of frozen sua chua.
The train ride from Vinh back to Ha Noi was infinitely better than the ride from Ha Noi to Vinh. It was about three hours shorter, and we were in a sleeper car which meant that we each had a bunk. Andrea was in a different room, but Anna, Eleisa, Aimee, and I were together. We clambered into our bunks (which were stacked three high on each side of the car) and read Eragon aloud while enjoying the snacks we'd purchased earlier at the bakery and Intimex.
Anna, Eleisa, and I ventured out of our room at one point to take pictures of the passing scenery: stony mountains, lush green rice paddies, cows grazing, men and women in conical hats.... Iconic Vietnam. The beauty of the country is astounding at times.
Six hours later, we were in Ha Noi. It was late - about 9:00 pm - and dark. We piled into two taxis and headed to Sandy's house (ELIC headquarters in Vietnam, as it were). I left my backpack, with Sandy's address taped to the handle, with Andrea so she could get to the place, and I got in the other taxi. What a mistake.
We were unloading at the intersection just in front of Sandy's, one taxi started off; I asked, "Where's my backpack?" The look on Andrea's face was pure regret. She turned around, running after the taxi. I stood in shock, started after her, turned back.... Anna and I waited there for Andrea, praying silently and fervently. When Andrea returned, it felt like forever, she was empty handed. There was a moment when I felt like my world burst. My plane tickets. The pictures Sung Ho had made for me. Everyone's email addresses. $100 in cash. My cell phone. The cables for my ipod. We walked to Sandy's and by the time we'd walked the block there, I was feeling more composed. Andrea wasn't, and she dropped off her things and took off again. We prayed with Sandy and remembered that her address was taped to the handle of the bag. There was hope.
Sandy reassured me that reissuing the ticket wouldn't be a huge issue, and thus placated, I settled in, called home, got a little prayer back-up, and hung out, waiting for Andrea to get back and restocking on the hygiene essentials (my overnight bag was in the backpack).
When Andrea returned, we prepared to head out to Ha Long Bay the next morning. As we were coming down the stairs to head out to the hotel, Eleisa fell hard down the marble stairs. She worried about the state of her tailbone and, overcome by hunger and exhaustion, she decided to stay at Sandy's and skip out on Ha Long Bay. We left her there, and headed out.
That night, we slept in a hotel of dubious report - not quite a hotel, a "guest house" - make of that what you will. Anna, my roomie for the night, and I laughed because the bathroom was separated from the room by a wall of glass. Fortunately, there was a curtain you could pull over it, which we did, but not after we got pictures of Anna sitting on the toilet seat (fully clothed, of course) reading her Bible while I stood outside the window with her camera focusing on the toilet paper rolls. We slept hard that night, and woke up early the next morning to head out to the Bay. We walked back to Sandy's to check on Eleisa - still sore and not accompanying us - and then went off to pick up some sandwiches (döner kebab done Vietnamese style - SOO delicious) and got a taxi to the travel agency in Ha Noi's Old Quarter.
We'd put money down on the tour to Ha Long and were one woman down, but - and this is how good God is - we got Eleisa's money back. The bus ride to Ha Long was easy - three/four hours with one break in between on a bus full of Vietnamese and a sweet little Japanese man. When we stopped halfway at a little tourist trap where no one wanted to hear my hard-earned Vietnamese and the prices where in dollars, we were in absolute shock seeing the sheer number of Westerners flowing in. I realized it'd been nearly five weeks since the last time I'd seen fellow foreigners. I was OVERWHELMED! They were speaking ENGLISH! And FRENCH! And SPANISH! Foreigners like me! What was the world coming to?!
But all was well, and we got back on our bus of national tourists and went to the Bay. We were scheduled to spend the night on the boat, so once we were there, we got on board and waited for the rest of the people on the tour: A French Vietnamese family with the daughter's boyfriend in tow, a French couple, an Australian woman with her adopted daughter and her coworker, and our Japanese friend from the bus. The boat set off. We had lunch: seafood, pork, rice, rau muong... there was no end to the food. It was wonderful. The Japanese man with us was in heaven because we didn't eat all the fish, but he sure did.
Ha Long Bay is unlike any other place in the world. I wish I could accurately describe the surreal beauty of it: the jade green waters, the limestone monoliths jutting out from the sea, the caves... It's like a scene out of a sci-fi movie, except real and all around you. Vietnam's rich legends filled with stories of dragons make SENSE in that landscape.
I took entirely too many pictures in the cave, of the stones, of boats... I gazed from afar at the cute French Vietnamese man who was on our boat (to my credit, he also gazed from afar at me). I wished to speak French or more Vietnamese - one would think that with two and a half languages (English, Spanish, and German) it'd be easier to communicate with European travellers.
After viewing a couple of caves - breathtaking, both - we went to a little market on the sea. Andrea and I bought two big bottles of water and she got a sleeve of Oreos, then rented kayaks. We proceeded to run into the cute French Vietnamese guy and his younger brother, which we all laughed off, and then went our separate ways. We were the laziest kayakers on the Bay. Andrea would take two strokes and pause for an Oreo break. Twenty minutes and a sleeve of Oreos later, we turned in our kayaks and headed back to the boat. Dinner was wonderful and our Japanese friend made quick work of the fish.
After dinner, we headed up to the top deck to look out at the scenery and catch the last of the sun. We anchored the boat, and it was time to swim. The group of swimmers descended from the lower deck and Aimee and I watched them from the top as the played in the water. The next thing we knew, the French Vietnamese brothers were up on the top deck. The stepped over the low railing (really, only 8 inches high) and stood on the ledge, mustering up their courage. My heart hammered against my ribs - jumping from the third level of the boat?! - as I watched them ready themselves. They counted in French: one, two, three, and down in a tremendous splash. It must have been quite a rush, because before long, they were back up, the tall, cute one asking me in sweetly accented English: "You do not swim?" Dazzling smile, and I was half tongue-tied: "Not well" I laughed, he laughed, then jumped again, and this time, signalled for me to join once he was in the water. Not a chance. Really, I can't tread water that well, and the water was deep enough for diving.
He jumped a few more time, then came up and sat on a bench - the same bench I was sitting on, and made small talk with the cute French accent. None of the essentials (name? age?) just travel talk (how long in Vietnam? When do you return?). And that smile of his too cute for me to think enough to ask for a name...ha, ha...
We slept on the boat, Anna and I sharing a room again, but only after spending a good long time laying on the benches on the top deck staring at the stars and listening to the strains of drunken Vietnamese karaoke from a neighboring boat. If it hadn't been sprinkling intermittently, Andrea, Anna, and I would've slept up there. As it was, I woke at about 5:30 the next morning to a spectacular view of the Bay. I showered quickly, pulled on my swimsuit, shorts, a tank top, and headed to the top deck with my sarong and my ipod. Our tour guide was up there, staring out at the ocean, and I wondered if he'd spent the night there. But we didn't talk. I took pictures as people drifted up. The cute guy came up and we looked at eachother furtively, under lowered lashes, each of us trying to work up the courage to start conversation and coming up short.
We had breakfast at 7:00, then Anna, Andrea, Aimee, and I headed back up to the top deck to catch some sun. We stripped down to our swimsuits and lay out... Nothing like lying in the sun while on a boat in the most beautiful place on earth. The boat docked at Cat Ba island and everyone left except the four of us and our Japanese friend. We only had time for the one night tour. I kicked myself mentally for not asking the cute guy's name. Oh well... Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda, right?
We picked up some more people and headed back. The next batch of tourist was heavily English speaking: a few Australians, a Brit, a couple Americans, a Canadian, an adorable Danish couple, and a cute little Japanese man who did some magic tricks. There was plenty of conversation as we sailed back to Ha Long City for lunch, and we chatted over lunch. The amount of food was staggering...
The bus ride back, I sat next to Ollie, the Brit we'd picked up at Cat Ba and Anna and I talked to him the whole way back. He's a teacher in London, and it was cool to hear about his experiences back home. Can you believe British kids might be worse than American kids? It made me grateful for my students. :)
That night, we did the last of the souvenir shopping in the Old Quarter after picking Eleisa up and settling in at Cua Giay Hotel. It felt good to end the trip with a proper touristy experience after all the work and the battles we fought in Vinh. Of course, I was also grateful that I had experienced much more than the average traveller. I'd made friends - Vietnamese friends that I care about and hope to see again. Friends that I will pray for now that I am back home.
We left Vietnam the next day. Our flight was delayed and we were stuck in Taiwan for a night due to weather. We did get put up in a luxurious hotel in Taiwan and got free breakfast and lunch there. The Western style buffet made me a little sick (where's the pho'?) but God was good to us. Vietnam Airlines even covered the last connections for the four girls who missed their flights out of LA.
I spent a glorious day with my sister in LA and am now back in VA, readjusting to the time difference, to Western food, to the pedestrian bilingualism of my life... But it's good. Vietnam was good.
I hope I can return. Not to travel, but to see Vinh; to see the people I came to know and love and talk to them again. I hope to sit on a plastic chair with my knees to my chest sipping a cold nuoc mia and laughing with my students. I hope to see God's hand moving as mightily as it did while we were in Vietnam. I know He's not done in Vinh - it feels good to say that now without fear of government spies - and I pray for that city, that bastion of Communism in a dark land... God is working there. He's been working, and He'll continue to work. And I know - I know - He will do great things in Vietnam. Believe it.

03 August 2007

Making the most of the time that's left...

Time's running out here in Vinh. I had a 7:30 am appointment with some of the students in Ms. Mai's class. We've gone out quite a bit, and I really enjoy them, especially Linh and the Professor whom I've spent the most time with. Linh couldn't go today, and neither could Ninh, but we still had a good time. We went out for mien (clear noodles), searched for a Vietnam soccer jersey (no luck), and then stopped at a cafe.
Good times all around, and it made me realize how much I will miss these people when I leave. Ms. Mai told me that they were looking for a souvenir for me, but they didn't know what to buy. I told them they'd already given me so much, I didn't need anything else.
I don't think she's going for that.
Thanh left last night and Steven leaves at four today. Our group is dwindling. There will only be five of us on the train back to Ha Noi, and it's still hard for me to believe. I already miss Marsha, miss Thanh, and I know I'll miss Steven.
The rest of the group (Aimee, Andrea, Anna, Eleisa, and me) will have a few more days in Ha Noi and Ha Long to spend together, but this still feels like the end.

Goodbyes are bittersweet.

Vietnam...

So I haven't been able to blog since the 25th. A lot has happened. The past week and a half have been a whirwind of activity. I've gone out with my students, gone to the beach four days in a row (Sat - Tues), and sung way too much. I feel like there is still a series of flash bulbs dancing before my eyes from all the pictures we've taken and there's an ache in my heart knowing that I'll have to leave soon.
Don't get me wrong, I miss my family, miss my friends. I want to tell stories and use my phone and eat rice and beans and pizza (not all at once) but, my goodness, Vietnam has captured my heart. I hope I'll be back. Really do. Back in Vinh to spend more time with the people that I've come to know. Tuesday, we said goodbye to Marsha; tonight we say goodbye to Thanh, and tomorrow, Steven goes off to Sai Gon. The rest of us leave Vinh City on Monday. We'll go to Ha Noi, Ha Long Bay, and then back to Ha Noi before heading back to the States on Thursday.

I can't believe how fast the time has gone. I am constantly overwhelmed by the grace and beauty and sheer generosity of the Vietnamese people in general and my Vietnamese friends in particular. I can't tell you how this beauty - this dusty, poverty-stricken, unusual beauty - has gotten under my skin. I want to wrap my arms around this place and package it up for when I'm home. I want to take the nuoc mia, the bun cha, the amazing sandwiches we just discovered... I want to take it all home for when I have reverse homesickness.

Bell rang, I'm off.