-^-for posterity-^-

there’s a young man who always works at one restaurant called the “no name”. he is always smiling and always greets us will a healthy, “hello. how is you?” he walks with a kick in his step. sometimes he jogs.

this young man also pushes around a fruit cart during the mornings. it’s a small, silver cart with plastic windows. behind the windows are rows of freshly pealed fruits. he charges about 3000 dong for half of a pineapple.

he’s always wearing blue pants. these pants are not blue-jean blue. they are not navy blue. they are not light blue. they are blueberry blue, maybe a shade lighter. they are a cross between electric eel blue and blueberry blue.

my birthday is coming up in a few days and we had a bit of a party with the students. the class dynamics are interesting. this last semester i taught both the second year and the third year students. only the second year students showed up. the third year students didn’t show but they sent some gifts.

jack had a tailor make me an identical pair of blue pants. they’re lovely and comfortable.

the party was supposed to be informal and small. i mentioned it to a couple of people and didn’t know who was going to show up. jack and i prepared by getting together some fruit and drinks.

the students came with an entire meal prepared. they had spring rolls, fried balls of something and more fruit. they also brought cake.

they laid everything out on tables and prepared sauces and everyone sat down. this was much too formal for the blue pants i was wearing.

there were speeches and clapping and lots of emotional remarks that were meant to be sincere but felt hallow. the student’s expressed their thanks for the class and i told them how wonderful they were. there’s forty four students in the class and forty turned up. the others had excuses.

they gave me flowers. a nice gesture. they bought me a t-shirt. it was also blue but had a checkered pattern not unlike a picnic table cloth. i wore it with my blue pants and felt ridiculous. they also got me a coconut cat. it is two coconut shells placed on top of one another and lacquered together. the cat doubles as a piggy bank. there’s a small slot in its back. i have no idea why anyone would need a piggy bank here: there are no coins, only paper money.

we played some games after the formal party ended. we played a game where everyone gets a card and whoever has the ace is the killer. they go around whispering in people’s ears and whoever they whisper in is dead. it’s a game i played when i was a child. they played it communally. if one girl was the killer she would tell all her friends and they would walk together as a mob. you win if you find out who the killer is but they didn’t care about winning. they didn’t want to stand out. the game was a debacle.

the night waned on and my pants remained blue and comfortable. i’ve yet to invest any money in the backside of my coconut cat piggy bank.