taste the rainbow

I thought I'd gotten used to "weird foods"--I've eaten snake, after all. And as far as fruit goes--I can eat my weight. In fact, one of the things I love most about Vietnamese cuisine/culture is the part where we all sit around after the meal and eat fruit and drink Vietnamese green tea. This is a pretty traditional habit; but in my family it's a fairly consistent nightly occurrence. Thus I've tried a plethora of fruits--from familiar (boring) things like apples, to things that look like they must come from other planets--hot pink dragon fruit; spiky, red rambutans; bumpy custard apples; and green oranges. Often, I find myself eating fruits I don't know the English names of; for all I know, some of them don't even have English names.

After more than 8 months of exposure to phenomena like these, I usually don't even glance twice at strange-looking fruit, but tonight was an exception. I was pleasantly shocked when, after supper, Co Van produced, from a large pot on the stove, purple sweet potatoes! I never even knew such a thing existed! (I find it interesting that the disfigurement of a known element is often more shocking than the appearance of a completely foreign one.) They were steamed to perfection and required no condiments. Mine was by far the most delicious and beautiful thing I have consumed in awhile, especially considering that purple might be my new favorite color.

Isn't it great when shockingly colored food does not necessarily have to imply a warning against its countless preservatives, unnatural dyes, and surplus sugar? I think so. It's just so much more fun this way! Of course, Vietnamese people are deathly afraid of pesticides (especially from Chinese-grown fruit), but this mostly means that even the most pain-in-the-butt types of fruit are washed multiple times and painstakingly peeled. At home, I would probably be far to lazy to put in the effort it takes to eat these exotic fruits; but here, they aren't exotic, and preparing them is an everyday task. (One that has rarely been assigned to me since my mango-peeling episode, and due to the fact that Vietnamese are naturally dubious of any foreigner's fruit-cutting ability.)

I'll taste this rainbow any day.

chuc mung nam moi!

2010 is a big year in Ha Noi--actually, its 1000th big year. Although the official anniversary is in October, if New Years was any indication, the whole year will be as suffused with the event as the typical Vietnamese wedding dress is with glitter...

On the morning of New Year's Eve, I took the bus to the stop at the top of Hoan Kiem Lake, a couple kilometer walk from The Gioi Publishers. Then, I inadvertently but delightedly walked right into a flower festival that was set up along the lake in honor of the anniversary. Fortunately I had some extra time and my camera.

Legend has it that, as the founder of Ha Noi first approached its banks via the Red River, he saw a glittering golden dragon rising from the mist... ...thus the ancient name of Ha Noi: Thang Long, or "Rising Dragon."

And the recurring dragon motifs in its decor. This one, if you can't tell, is made of pineapple. The ones above are constructed primarily of flowers.

Ha Noi seal (thanks wikipedia!)

This one is for all my dutch friends out there. In case you can't read it, the sign says:

"These tulips are a gift from Netherlands to Ha Noi on the occasion of its 1000 years anniversary, presented by the Dutch minister for agriculture, Ms Gerda Verburg."

And I thought I'd have to miss tulip time this year!

After work, my host family picked Ali and me up and we all went to supper at Kitchi Kitchi, a restaurant that lives up to its goofy name. It is an all-you-can-eat buffet that serves lau, a traditional Vietnamese dish that usually entails putting various raw foods to cook in a simmering pot of broth. Kind of like fondue, but with chopsticks. And noodles. Usually a whole group gathers around one large hot pot, but Kitchi Kitchi has created a variation on lau in which each person has her own mini hot pot sunk into the counter in front of her. Additionally--and quite exciting to me when I entered the restaurant--there are conveyor belts running all along the tops of the counters with various food items--veggies, tofu, baby duck eggs, pigeon eggs, meat, fish, noodles, and some mystery items--that you pick off and throw into your pot.

Apparently, pictures aren't allowed (I guess they're afraid someone might copy that cutting-edge technology--the conveyor belt), but I took this one before I knew...

After supper, we went bowling. Cosmic bowling, even. Complete with the ABBA Happy New Year Song--on repeat. We played three games, then left at about 10:30 to go check out the flower festival I had seen earlier in the day. It closed just as we got there, and as Co Van's attempts to use us two foreign girls to get past the security gaurds failed, we left to go...eat more. The food selection suprised me. We had chau, a kind of rice gruel, like oatmeal but with meat instead of sugar..This is where we welcomed 2010 with some confetti and yet another play of ABBA's song. It was a pretty fun night! More than I usually do to celebrate New Years.

I took a moment to look back on where I was at this time last year. It was funny to realize that among all my frenzied ideas of what I might be doing this year, I didn't have the faintest guess that I might be in Viet Nam. In fact, most of the times I had ever thought of the country were probably associated with Forrest Gump.

It makes me chill out a little as I start to think/worry about future plans--they probably won't turn out at all as I expect. That's sometimes a scary thought, but its also pretty exciting!

Happy New Year!

left: the younger of my two host sisters, Nga.

right: my host mom, Co Van. Not to be confused with my other sister. My dad did when he first met her...

ao dai and an hoi with a liberal sprinkling of glitter.

A couple of interesting events this week:

On Tuesday, after my fourth trip to the tailor, I picked up my new ao dai--traditional Vietnamese dress. I was very excited when The Gioi Publishers first said they would buy me one, but by the end of the process, I had almost decided it was more trouble than it was worth. First there was the initial trip to the tailor to pick out fabric and be fitted. It was amazing how difficult it was for me to find one fabric I liked--an opaque fabric without sequins, glitter, large flowers, or LOUD patterns--even in a shop entirely devoted to cloth. "Simple elegance" is something few people strive for in Vietnamese fashion. Here, glitter does not serve as an accent; its role is more along the lines of "the more the better." Secondly, it was interesting that, for a shop that specialized in making ao dai, this did not seem to be its forte...

But! I got it. And I already got to wear it, which leads me to the second interesting event of the week...

On Thursday, I took leave from work to attend the engagement party of my host cousin, who I had met one time previously. Interestingly, I'm pretty sure that this is the cousin whose mom was anxious to set me up with him during my first month in Hanoi; turns out he's been in love with his now-fiance for about ten years! Although the couple has been as good as engaged for quite some time, the official engagement had to wait for a lucky day--as indicated by the fortuneteller. The same is true for the wedding, which takes place a week from tomorrow. Now that's what I call a short engagement!

The Vietnamese name for the engagement ceremony is an hoi (an=eat, hoi=ask). The groom's family takes an odd number of gifts (apparently odd numbers are luckier than even ones)--in our case, seven--and present them to the bride's family at their home. The bride's family sets up space for tea and light refreshment. Some words are exchanged, then the bride's family takes the gifts up to the family altar to inform the ancestors of the engagement and petition for their blessing. There may also be confetti, women in very flashy ao dai, men in suits, lots of the color red (also generally lucky), lots of glitter, and lots of pictures (which I will post sometime!).

After the ceremony, which didn't take more than a half hour, we went back to the groom's family's house for lunch. I received many compliments on my ao dai; I'm not sure if people actually liked it (I mean, it doesn't have any glitter!), or if they were just surprised to see a foriegner wearing one. Either way is ok with me. I received a similar complement about my chopstick skills. I have found that these large family gatherings exhaust me, even when I spend most of them sitting/standing around.

However, I had a nice opportunity for refreshment at the end of my tiring day--I received free tickets from work to go to a concert by the Hanoi Philharmonic Orchestra, which featured a guest Spanish conductor. The vocals weren't great, but I thoroughly enjoyed the instrumentals, not to mention the gold glitter covering the soprano's face.

a love poem, or how ideals are...well, idealistic.

The other day I wrote the following poem at work:

Oh why, oh why would you torture me so?
You tease me over and over
confirming the notion that, yes—
Absence by all means makes the heart grow fonder.
I cannot focus for thinking of you
wondering when you will return
and what thrilling gifts may accompany you.
I know in my head that I’m bound to be disappointed
but, as ever, my heart is not so easily persuaded.
I ponder especially the reason for your absence
Explanations abound—
governmental decrees and mean prohibitions—
but one option I refuse to accept:
the possibilty of permanent neglect.
Perhaps your absence is a humbling scheme
to put to the test my ideals
my oft-spoken declaration
that I don’t need you, don’t want you,
that perhaps—I would even be better off without you.
I guess I can’t blame you for belaboring your point
but I get it now:
Without you my days would be endless
boring, expensive, lacking interest.
Other people just don’t do it for me anymore—
so limited in knowledge, so unentertaining, so dreadfully slow.
So come back please!
I understand now I can’t live without you!
Oh internet, internet—
I’m lost without you.

It's terribly cheesy, I know; I guess that was the point. This parody of a love poem, which I titled--very originally--"Ode to the Internet," not only mocks the melodramatic speech of lovers and our society's love of technology, but also myself.

The day I wrote the poem, the internet was down all day. While I enjoyed reading on the porch during my lunch break--a time that I usually spend writing emails and wasting time online--I also found myself going crazy by about 3:30. As I edited my articles, I missed the convenience of dictionary.com and even--gasp!--wikipedia (which, I might add, contains facts far more reliable than those of many of the articles I am given!); furthermore, I discovered--by their lack--how many breaks I must really take throughout my usual workday and how short my attention span has grown as a result. In fact, I was so bored, so unable to focus, that I resorted to writing sappy poetry.

This is where the self-mockery comes in: I have a self-professed loathing of modern technology.

"Technology," I often rant, "is the downfall of modern society. It is supposed to make life more convenient--but often complicates it. While modern technology enables us to communicate at the mere click of a mouse, it cheapens our relationships; furthermore, it takes away precious time from real relationships.....etc.....etc......(only slightly exaggerated)."

Well, I guess we are all hypocrites sometimes (or I would like to hope I am not the only one)--and this fact has provided me with considerable self-reflection during my already more-than-three-month stay in Ha Noi.

Ideals are great--surely the world would be in (even more) trouble if no one had any--but being here has made me realize how necessary it is to re-evaluate ideals, and maybe even change them, based on one's present context...

In other words: are there ever times when it is right to give up one's ideal for the sake of something else--like building a relationship?

Like making a goal to watch TV with my host sisters (instead of reading a book in my room) because it is one of the few things I can think to do with them, even though my general stance towards TV is that it is a useless and even negative device that is rendering our children incapable of creative thought...

Or, similarly, giving up a ticket to see "A Christmas Carol," at the opera house with my Western friends to watch "New Moon" at the Vincom Towers (i.e. the very Westernized Ha Noi version of a shopping mall) with my host sister and four of her 12-year-old friends...

Or going shopping with my host mom even though--aside from the fact that I hate shopping to begin with--I am disturbed by how much Western consumerism has already taken over in the 20 years since Viet Nam has opened its doors, and I try not to advocate it...

Don't get me wrong: I'm not advocating hypocrisy. Or giving up ideals because they are unpopular, old-fashioned, or "unrealistic"--I am a pacifist, after all.

Rather, I suppose I am warning against having ideals for ideal's sake alone. Because sometimes we unknowingly build walls with our ideals, or judge other people based on them, and forget that we are not called to judge others, or even to uphold ideals per se; we are called to love, and if our ideals inhibit that, then maybe they need to be re-considered.

Besides, even technology has its merits: I recently discovered a cool example of technology being used for a good cause (this good cause being more than my amusement when I need a break from poorly translated English): World Next Door.

And without it, you wouldn't be reading this right now (I'll leave it up to you to decide whether this is a benefit or a flaw.. ). :)

happiness is taking things as they are...

Well. What a week! One where I have to just make myself write a post--realizing that I can't possibly write about it all--or I never will.
So, knowing that I'm going to forget some things, here's a glimpse of my week's excitement/adventure/..life:

-Taking the bus to work. Always an adventure. My family moved last weekend, and I am still deciding how I will get to work...this weekend was the bus experiement. It takes about an hour total, including about fifteen minutes of walking. Twice, I got lost and just got off the bus and took xe ôm (this is like a motorbike taxi. Pretty much any man who has a xe máy and decides to sit on a corner with an extra helmet, yelling obnoxiously at passers-by. Prices are negotiable... MCC does not encourage regular use of xe ôm, but sometimes you just gotta do it. I like to think of it as two-fold practice: Vietnamese and bargaining. I need lots of practice at both!).

-A day at work when my boss sent me four articles that were "urgent" and needed to be done by the end of the day. I'm not used to deadlines any more. It was quite a lot of pressure, but Hannah and I teamed up and tackled the job...

-Getting locked out of the house for a half hour after my morning run. Bà and Chị Hải went to the market. Yes, they knew I was out running. It was perfect shorts-and-a-long-sleeve running weather, but not perfect shorts-and-a-long-sleeve standing-around-in-front-of-the-gate-thinking-bad-words weather. So, I ran accross the street and begged the woman at the tea stand for a cup of chà xang nóng (hot tea) even though I didn't have any money. Another chance to practice Vietnamese...and see how fast I could get ready and bike to school (I exceeded my expectations and arrived a mere 3 minutes late!). And now I have a new friend who I get to wave to every time I leave the house!

-Teacher Day! Teachers are highly respected in Vietnamese culture, and on this occasion, they get lots of gifts and a few days off. On Thursday, Ali and I took our amazing teacher, Co Giang out for coffee to celebrate. We even documented the occasion.

-A WALK WITH MY HOST SISTERS! Seriously, trying to get them to do any remote form of exercise is like pulling all their teeth. But, they had two days off school for Teacher's Day, had slept till eleven that morning, nothing good was on TV (we found out later), the new neighborhood is nicer for walking, and they were bribed with money to buy snacks on the way. Or maybe they are sick of their weight-loss tea, I don't know. Anyways, I thought I would be doing well to get them to go for 15 minutes, but they wanted to keep going! I think we might have walked (slowly, yeah, but whatever) for 45 minutes! It was actually quite fun.

-Supper out at "Hot Rock Cafe" in honor of Bà, a former teacher. The restaurant was the most American one I have yet been to. They didn't even bother giving us chopsticks; I felt very clumsy with my knife and fork. I ate pizza, pasta, and garlic bread...I was very happy. Its funny because I don't really think about missing American food, but eating it that night reminded me of home (until...I was greatly amused by the fact that, after we finished stuffing ourselves with all this foreign food, Chú Hùng ordered a plate of fried rice...I had no trouble passing this up, but apparently he just can't feel full without rice, no matter how much other food he eats). Also, I felt at home with my family. I genuinely had a good time and didn't feel super awkward. I got into bed that night thinking, "I like my family!"

-Coat shopping with Cô Vân. The weather went from really hot to really cold--literally overnight. And I realized that I did not bring enough warm clothing. So on Saturday, Cô Vân took me out shopping for pretty much the entire day. Shopping is even more frustrating for me here than it is at home (yeah, who would have thought it could get worse?!) because I am about a foot taller than everyone. However, it was a great opportunity to hang out with my host mom, to ride xe máy (always a treat), and to sample some new street food, namely: Bún Ốc (breakfast noodle soup with snails) and Bánh Trôi (hot, sweet soup with sesame-and-coconut-filled rice dumplings--perfect for a cold day!!!).

-Sunday lunch by the lake. After church yesterday we strayed from our usual Indian fare, instead taking advantage of the beautiful weather and enjoying lảu (hot pot) while sitting on mats on the ground at the edge of the lake. Lảu is a meal that takes a long time and encourages loitering and conversation, so loiter and converse we did...

Ended up being what I guess I would call a good week (although I try not to rate everything in my head all the time, because I do that a lot here and usually end up frustrated), but crazy. I feel so much busier these days--so much so that one of my aunts assumed I must have a boyfriend now because I "đi chơi (go play)" so much. The business is a spectacular change from the boredom I felt when I first came here, but also accounts for the piling in my inbox (Sorry!)

I was impressed with myself because, especially early in the week, there were a few things that could have been really frustrating (and were) and that I would have expected myself to dissolve into tears about (given my tendency to cry not when I'm sad but when I'm frustrated). However, I found my self frustrated-and-laughing instead of frustrated-and-crying; I think/hope I'm getting better at relaxing and not worrying so much. I also think/hope that, when I return to the States, I will use the word "inconvenient" far less often...

As my tea-bag tag told me the other day at an appropriate moment, Happiness is taking things as they are.

weekly schedule

In response to various questions, I have decided that it might be helpful for me to write a brief overview of what a typical week looks like for me in Hà Nội.

MONDAY:

Get up at 5:30. Run to tennis court (don't be impressed--it takes about 5 minutes). Alternate playing tennis and watching Cô Vân and Chú Hùng play until 7:00. Run home.

Eat breakfast, provided by Chị Hải (house helper) or Bà (Grandma). While sometimes I wish I could just make my own breakfast, I usually enjoy being surprised each morning (the last three days, breakfast has included corn-on-the-cob. Why not? I don't mind.)

Ride bike about 25 minutes to Thế Giới Publishers. Change from sweaty biking clothes to professional work clothes.

Edit English translations, with occasional breaks for chatting with Hannah or drinking coffee at the cafe next door.

Lunch at Thế Giới canteen.

Nap/Rest time. Yeah, we even have fold-out cots!

More editing.

Bike home.

Supper with the family.

Study Vietnamese/read/etc.

TUESDAY:

Leave at about 7:45 for the 40 min bike ride to school.

Morning: Vietnamese class with Alicia and our teacher, Cô Giang. We have a book that we use for about half of the 3-hour session. For the other half we maunder through various subjects using what I like to call "Vinglish." Boyfriends are a hot topic; Twilight came up once, as did American Girl Dolls; Cô Giang often recommends the best places to eat phở and mỳ vằn than, and informs us which Friday of the month is the ice cream buffet at Fanny's (on my list of things to do before I leave Hà Nội)!!

Lunch at MCC Office.

Work at Thế Giới in the afternoon.

WEDNESDAY:

Ditto Monday, minus the tennis.

Also, after supper I go to Bible Study at the home of a family from church.

THURSDAY:

Early-morning tennis, then ditto Tuesday.

FRIDAY:

Morning at MCC Office: This is a time for me do things that I need to do (ie--financial reports, check email, write blog entries for you...) and build relationships at the office. Last Friday I went with Cô Thu, the MCC cook, to the market to buy food for lunch. I loved it! It reminded me of going to the farmers' market in Grand Rapids, except for the raw meat being carved up all around and the live snakes, fish, and caterpillars wriggling around in their tubs of water...

Lunch at MCC.

Afternoon class.

About half the time I go home after class. Other times I meet friends at the Bia Hơi across the street for cheap, good food and entertainment (this is the site of the rat incident I mentioned in a previous entry).

SATURDAY:

At first, this was my least favorite day of the week. My whole family is gone most of the day (my sisters have school), and I pretty much sat around the house. I discovered that too much inactivity leads Calah to too many longing thoughts of home and to what I guess might be called...homesickness? So now I try to fill up at least half of my day. Examples:

-Last Saturday Derek and Ana invited Hannah, Ali, Joel, and me over for an evening of gluttony and card games--it was glorious.

-Often I bike along my favorite road, a very scenic and--for Hà Nội--quiet one next to West Lake. It is home to a plethora of cafes, so I usually pick one and get my whole less-than-a-dollar coffee's worth by sitting and reading for hours.

-One Saturday, I headed downtown and met Alicia to peruse various hotels in preparation for our parents' upcoming visits. Then we met Hannah for delicious bowls of my favorite kind of Vietnamese soup, got ice cream, looked around the shops. Good times.

-I recently discovered a running club that meets on Saturday afternoons. I have only gone once so far, but this may become a regular addition to my Saturday schedule.

SUNDAY:

Sleep in (for me) or go for a run.

Church.

Eat lunch with friends from church--usually at Foodshop 45, a great Indian restaurant close to church (and my house)--unless my family is having a special extended-family lunch, which they often do on Sundays.

Participate in the last half hour of my sisters' 3-hour English lesson in the evening. Their tutor usually gives us a topic to discuss in English. Then my sisters write short essays in English while I write one in Vietnamese.

So, there you have it: A small glimpse of my typical week in Việt Nam. Of course, my schedule may change considerably when:
1) my family moves (on Saturday!).
2) my Vietnamese classes decrease to once weekly I begin working 4 full days a week at Thế Giới.

a glimpse of hope!...a.k.a. Calah needs more affirmation than she thinks she does.

I have been making an--in my opinion valient--attempt to speak more Vietnamese at home. This has been difficult for me not only because of my poor Vietnamese vocabulary, but also because Co Van and both my sisters speak English well enough that it is the default language they use to address me. While this has made my first two months easier in many ways, it doesn't help me learn to speak Vietnamese...especially when I have a sneaking suspicion that they would rather me speak in English because it is easier for them to understand than my poor Vietnamese is.

However, I seem to be falling behind in Vietnamese class, and we all know how competitive I am...

The latest of my attempts was tonight at supper when I informed Co Van--in Vietnamese--that "Tomorrow...I go...eat breakfast...with Hannah and..mom...Hannah. I go play tennis...but I go home at.........6 (hours)...........4......5 (minutes)." Whew.

Co Van--after clarifying a few details--said ok.

THEN she said, "Your Vietnamese is better." !!!!!!! (these are my added exclamation points. Vietnamese tend to speak English with quite a flat affect because of the language's lack of tonal-ness. Similarly, I have not yet figured out how to express any emotion in Vietnamese without saying something completely different than I intend.)

Outside, I smiled and said, "I hope so!"

Inside, I jumped around with joy.

family secrets

I have gotten used to missing most of the conversation that my family has over dinner, not knowing when special things are happening prior to their occurance, and being generally confused most of the time. This experience notwithstanding, I assumed, until about a week ago, that my family would tell me if anything really BIG was happening; there are certain things you have to tell family, right?

The other Sunday we had an extended-family lunch in honor of Chu Hung's father's death anniversary. I purposely positioned myself next to the younger of my two sisters, Nga, intending to make a point to converse with her. My first question was about whether she thought her cousin and his girlfriend will get married soon (I really want to go to a wedding while I'm here). My second question: "Why do random people come to look at our house sometimes?"

It was something I had been wondering for a while. One time the following thought crossed my mind: "Its like our house is for sale or something." But I immediatly rejected this half-formed idea with another, "It can't be. Surely I would know about that."

I learned how wrong I was when Nga responded with, "We sell the house." Obviously, her tone seemed to add, quite helpfully. After I managed to close my gaping mouth, I gleaned as much information as I could...Moving. In about a month. Clearly.

I've learned a bit more since then. My family is planning to buy land and build a house (a bigger, nicer one, apparently). Until then, they will rent a house on the other side of West Lake. I have heard that we will move by November 15, but I haven't noticed any preparations unless you count buying a new car. I'm interested to see what the Vietnamese process of moving will look like.

The anticipated move has one particular perk--It will put me much closer to the homes of Ali and Hannah. However, it also means a longer bike ride to work at The Gioi Publishers, as well re-settling into a new place and routine. But it's ok--those of you who know me well know that I am excellent at dealing with change. (And those of you who don't know me so well but have been reading this blog are probably learning to detect my always-subtle sarcasm)

If nothing else, I expect that I will gain a few interesting stories and extensive knowledge of the roads in another part of Hanoi. And I will have learned to make less assumptions about the sort of information that families necessarily tell each other.

breakthrough? a.k.a. what chocolate chip cookies can do for the world.

I think I may have had a breakthrough in the area of relating to my teenage sister with whom I struggle to feel that I have anything in common with. At. All.

Last week I was still lounging around the house in the wake of dengue fever. I anticipated being bored out of my mind--and often was--but managed a few preventative measures that made the week bearable....

...like baking chocolate chip cookies! I made them to take to Bible Study and, as an afterthought, invited my sister, Quynh to "help" me.

There are a few things that make baking chocolate chip cookies in Viet Nam--baking anything actually--more of an adventure than at home.

1) It is difficult to find even the most basic and essential ingredients. I went to a large supermarket close to my house that, being in a touristy area, I assumed would have at least some of the ingredients I needed. You would think I've been in Viet Nam long enough to not make such silly assumptions. They did have white sugar there (of course!), which my family already has anyways. And butter. However, even after searching aisles full of pre-packaged cookies and cakes--all of which are made of flour!--I failed to find a bag of flour. So, I took a trip to a little "foreigner grocery store" where I tried to read labels in a variety of languages I didn't know (like German) and to discern whether I was buying flour or something very different that closely resembled it. All that being said--I managed to find everything I needed.

2) The ingredients are very expensive, as one might guess considering their rarity. There goes my month's spending money...

3) My family does not have measuring cups...oh well, guesstimation is my favorite method, anyways.

4) Last, but most certainly not least--like most Vietnamese kitchens, ours does not have an oven. This is still very strange to me, although it actually makes a lot of sense considering that Vietnamese really don't bake. Ever. Solution? The toaster oven!

After impatiently waiting for Quynh to finish her "extra" class before we could make cookies--and even regretting that I had invited her to join--I was so glad that I had waited.

She loved it.

Quynh was not a good batter stir-er at all, and I could have made the cookies much more easily without her "help." But it was worth it to hear her squeal. Yes, squeal. She showed far more emotion over those cookies than I have seen her show about anything in the month and a half that I've known her.

The best word I can think of to describe what this experience was for me (and what I hope it was for her) is humanizing. Prior to this, I just could not find anything that I had in common with Quynh; thus, even though I wanted to make an effort to get to know her, I was at a complete loss as to how to do so. Now I know that, if nothing else, we both love chocolate chip cookies. And that this 15-year-old girl has feelings. Moreover, having experienced this connection once makes me want to find other ways to encourage its repetition.

Everyone knows that chocolate chip cookies are delicious and fun to make, but who ever knew their potential?

If Obama really did decide to send more troops to Afghanistan but armed them with chocolate chips instead of guns (or whatever they use to kill people these days) and planned a cookie-making party instead of an ambush, then, if such decisions were mine to make, I would award him the Nobel Peace Prize...

But since even I recognize the idealism of the above scenerio, I'll just keep looking for ways to remind myself that my sisters aren't as different from me as I usually think and--I hope--show them that I'm not as intimidating as I (apparently) look.

party like the moon is full

On the 15th of August (according to the Chinese Lunar Calendar) Vietnamese celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival or, as my family calls it, "Moon Day." This is not, as my (real) dad jokingly asked me, a day when people go around mooning each other. It is a holiday that is mostly for children, although adults also participate. The main fesivities, as far as I can tell, involve wearing masks and glowing horns, eating "moon cakes" (possibly the worst dessert I have ever tried), watching circuses, buying toys, and looking at the moon. Although its origins are completely different, this holiday reminds me a lot of what Halloween has evolved into in the States, minus the ghosts.

About a week ago, Co Van (my VN mom) told me that Moon Day was coming up and that I should invite some friends over for a small party. So I invited some friends and looked forward to the festivities all week. The party did not disappoint. (sidenote: my mysterious fever did not deter Co Van from holding the party. This occurred in the short "I feel better" interlude between the onset of the fever and when it worsened and I was hospitalized. I was very worried that I would be miserable during the party, but actually had a good time, although I don't think I'll be eating spring rolls for awhile--if I can help it. Which means that I probably will be eating them.....)

First, we all sat down on the floor for a meal of bun (a certain type of noodle), fried spring rolls, fresh spring rolls, and...pizza. When we were sufficiently stuffed, we moved upstairs to the living room for fruit (especially the Asian form of grapefruit, which is very popular and whose name, when mispronounced only slightly, does NOT mean grapefruit), moon cakes, custard pudding, and tea. I was given the task of reading riddles and distributing masks as prizes to those who answered correctly. Unfortunatly, the riddles were very, very, very, very poorly translated from Vietnamese to English, and I couldn't understand them at all!

We also, in typical Vietnamese fashion, were forced to sing in front of everyone. Selections included Miley Cyrus, Taylor Swift, the Beatles, and the ABCs.

All in all, it was great fun. Like Halloween without the stress of deciding what to be and then digging around at Goodwill for the elusive costume elements, and then the fear that no one will recognize what you are supposed to be...

(Please note my mask in the picture below. I chose the most ridiculous one I could find, expressly for your viewing pleasure, and am only sad that I do not have a better picture of myself in it, because I am sure it is my look.)

"sometimes i fill (sic) like a figment of my own imagination"

The title is a quote from a little diary book that I bought my second or third day in VN because it amused me so much. It is the sort of thing--sort of like my new bedroom decorations--that I would never have at home. It has pictures of princess-y people in pink and baby blue (i feel like these colors are becoming a recurring theme? maybe I should change the background colors of my blog?), but what I love about it--why I was gasping for breath laughing in the store and had to buy it--is its spectacular quotes. Anyways, this quote is pretty much my life in a nutshell right now.

Example:

This (Sunday) afternoon, Anh Vang (my father-figure) invites me into the living room to watch TV with him. Sure, why not?
I sit down to observe his TV tastes--VERY LOUD salsa dancing. He is sitting on the floor, organizing the family's collection of DVDs. Chooses one and puts it in, starts it, turns the volume up, leaves. So I sit, by myself in this very trendy room in VIET NAM watching none other than "VH1 Divas Live in Las Vegas." Featuring Celine Dion, Cher, the Dixie Chicks, Shakira, Anastasia. All in ridiculous outfits, of course. Beginning with a rendition of ACDC's "You Shook Me All Night Long" by Celine Dion and Anastasia.

Really?!

So I sat there. I watched the whole thing. Laughed a lot. I may have sang along to a few select songs. And the whole time I was thinking, What am I doing here?!

Yeah, "sometimes I fill like a figment of my own imagination."

new home

Well, it's finally happened! I have been accepted by a host family, and moved into my new home on Tuesday.

My family consists of Grandma (Ba), uncle/"older brother"/dad (Anh --), aunt/"older sister"/mom (Co Van), and two younger sisters, 12/13 and 14/15 years old (Vietnamese add a year to their ages...). One of my sisters is obsessed with Michael Jackson, the other with Miley Cyrus--clearly we have lots in common. The other night I watched (a terrible quality DVD) Twilight with my younger sister. She was shocked that I had not yet seen it, particularly since she had already seen it at least three times. I have a funny suspicion that I may learn more about American pop culture here in Viet Nam than I knew previously, having lived a somewhat pop culture-deprived life up till this point.

Co Van and my sisters speak English quite well, which has been very nice but could be a little too easy and potentially interfere with learning Vietnamese.

The house is quite nice, other than its lack of toilet paper (I have now rectified this situation). I have my own room, which is complete with a brand-new, matching, bright pink sheet set; a baby blue curtain; a pastel-colored windchime hanging in the middle of the doorway that I hit my head on every time; and, of course, a few christmas decorations for good measure.

My favorite thing about the location of my new house is that it is on the edge of Ha Noi; thus, it is in a relatively quiet neighborhood (other than the nearby construction that sounds, to me, like someone is pouring an endless bowl of lead cereal in the kitchen). Furthermore, it is close to fields, something I had forgotten the existence of since coming to Ha Noi! I have a had a few nice runs on the road next to the fields, where there is minimal traffic and less than half as many staring, "hallo!"-yelling people. In addition, I feel like I can breathe; apparently I can handle the smell of manure much better than that of bus fumes, cigarette smoke, and general pollution.

The downside to my location is that it is very far from everything except church. It's about a 25-minute bike ride to The Gioi, and about 40 minutes to school/MCC. Guess I'll be getting my exercize, which is great considering my family always seems to think that either
a) I cannot pick up food items with my chopsticks or
b)I am too shy to eat as much as my giantish stature requires;
therefore, they feel the need to pick up food items with their chopsticks and deposit them in my bowl, to try to convince me to take another heaping bowl of rice, and to buy me random pastries.

My favorite thing so far is seeing what's for breakfast. Ba prepares this meal for me, and so far I have had something different every morning: eggs, floating in oil, and a loaf of french bread; some kind of pastry with meat and tiny hardboiled eggs inside; grilled ground-meat sandwiches on very square, very white bread; milk from paper pouches--you name it.

So far, I have spent a lot of time here being, well...bored. My sisters seem to go to school/do homework pretty much all the time. I feel constantly torn between not wanting to seclude myself in my room, but not really knowing what else to do with myself. It is a challenge to be in a place where I do not know exactly what my place is; it is difficult to play a role when I do not know my lines.

However, it is a relief to be finally rid of the suitcases I have been living out of for the past month and a half. And even though I do not yet know what my role in this household is going to be, now that I am here I can at least begin the long process of discovering it.