fitting.

i went and ate dog less than a week before i go home. i’ve been forging relationships with my friends here and this is how we celebrate.

i remember the first time i ate dog meat. it was at a small shop near the university. one only had to travel down a sidewalk off a road before they came to a house that was full of people. we sat on small plastic stools around tables fashioned from any assortment of wood one could find. we ate dog stew, dog curry and anything else dog that they could muster up. dogs were wimpering behind the wall to my right. i’ll never forget that.

that was strange. this was normal.

this final time, we ate dog in a restuarant fairly far from our home. we still sat on plastic stools but this time the food was better. while eating dog is an affair for those of the lower class, this restaurant was high class dog. we ate dishes of rotissery dog, dog soup that was cooked with young bamboo and even the most sacred part of the male dog boiled with herbs.

we talked about life, about going home. we joked and i felt beautifully comfortable. i felt more at home at that dog restaurant than i will feel after i step off the plane and sit in a van for the two hour ride to my ‘house’.

people here tell me that i should stay forever. i tell them i want to and i tell them sincerely. to stay forever would be easy. to stay forever would be to forever adapt to this culture. to go home is hard. to touch base again is nearly impossible.

after a person becomes a part of one culture, separating is quite difficult.

there was a party tonight for the foreign teachers. all three of us were there smiling.

they wished all of us well on our future travels and thanked us for our time spent in an giang. it was a friendly affair and we all left feeling cheerful. there were pictures taken and addresses exchanged. everything felt so final.

how should i begin to reflect on my time here? how can i be honest? is it possible or will i just be building up walls of assumptions?

i began my involvement with mcc in september of 2002. the year before that i was attending bluffton college and really beginning to feel like i was fitting in. that transitioned to the summer where i worked as a truck driver delivering chickens in philadelphia. i spent the summer expecting my future. i spent the summer fantasizing about what life would be like in vietnam. i hardly saw the narrow streets i drove down. i hardly knew the countless blue crates of chickens i threw.

the problem was, i really had no idea what to expect. i knew that i would be going somewhere wonderfully different but i had no idea exactly how wonderful or how different it would actually be. i knew so little about the place. i knew a bit of its history, a bit of what i was told by others and the rest was fantasy.

i jumped on a plane in philadelphia and said goodbye to everything i knew to be familiar. i said good bye to my family, friends and home. i said good bye to food, customs and tradition. i said good bye to it all. i sat on those planes and in those airports for hours not knowing what i would become; not having any idea how i would change.

i landed in hanoi and spent a couple weeks watching. i noticed the small, simple things first. i watched the ways that people went about their daily lives. i watched how people related to me and how people related to one another. the culture didn’t seem so different. things were easily understood, easily reconciled.

i moved south and began a stint on my own. the cultural differences began to open up to me. they did so slowly, like secrets. i learned more about this place and everything i learned i realized how much more i really didn’t know. i spent much of that time alone. it feels like i spent most of that time sitting in places and eating alone. i always ate with a book. i don’t know why, but i couldn’t eat without a book. i had to sit in these places and eat while staring down at a white page filled with black lettering. i couldn’t bare to look around me too long. i couldn’t bare to have people know how little i knew.

i finally moved down to the university and began to work. i slowly made my way into the culture and slowly began to see things with more clarity. life opened up. the world opened up for me. i sat at the center of the universe just taking notes on life. my pencil would waste away to nothing and i’d quickly grab another as to not miss one thing.

i became immersed in vietnamese. i realized that this was the key to truly fitting in here. i spent all of my time sitting in uncomfortable situations, on the edge of my seat, waiting and hoping to glean something important. i spent days not understanding anything, hundreds and thousands of moments where i had to sit and smile and admit incompetence. i learned how to listen with every part of my body and how to take everything in. i rehashed memories over and over again until they became a part of my experience. i sat in my room silently working things over and over again in my head. that is how i came to understand vietnam.

i also became immersed in work. i began to love the challenges of teaching. i began to learn how to act again like i did when i was in high school. i tried to define the role and play it to the best of my ability. i played the role of teacher and came to understand the joys and the hardships. i began to be asked to play different roles. i started to coordinate activities and events. i started to move up in the world here. i was asked to play the role of office worker. my work culminated about a month ago with the writing of a giant grant proposal. i slid to the top of the mountain and collapsed because i was exhausted.

i have changed in so many ways. things i can not see and things i will not be able to see for some time.

i have a very wise friend here who, when i asked him what i should do in the future, told me to ‘learn how to swim somewhere else.’ i have learned how to ‘swim’ in this setting, this culture, this place. he suggests that i learn how to swim in another setting, another culture, another place. before i go about swimming somewhere else, i have to go home and let everyone compare me to the person they knew before. the boy who ran around in old shirts trying to understand the world. the young man who liked to furrow his brow.

i want to know who i have become.

i have been concerned about going home. i have not yet been away from home for two years. last night i met someone who taught me about humility.

this man was an old friend. he has a wonderful smile and you would never know by his demeanor that he has an important position in this society. he has a friendly handshake.

he talked about his mother and her sister. they hadn't seen each other in forty years and they were going to finally meet after. his mother was from the mekong and his mother's sister lives in hong kong.

he sat at the table and showed emotion. it is so rare for anyone to show emotion here it moved me deeply. he put his hands on his face and sat quietly, not breathing. after a moment he removed his hands and said he was sorry. he talked about duty. he said that, after he took his mother to meet her sister, he would be able to die a happy man.

in vietnamese there is a word that we don't have in english. hieu thao. it means that a child does everything they can to help their parents because they owe their parents everything.

i don't know if i have hieu thao but he had it in spades. i envy.

agh.

the group left early this morning and i stood on the sidewalk outside of the hotel without sandals on waving to them. i walked up the stairs, glided up the elevator shaft and crawled back into bed. i woke up at noon.

i walked around saigon for hours thinking about where i was and were i was going. after spending the last two months furiously working on various projects, i finally had time to myself. eleven days before i board flight aa168 leaving from tokyo at 555pm and arriving in new york city at 525 pm of the same day, i mused about my experience.

the time to myself was wonderful though it did little to clear my head.

i boarded a bus and sat inside as it shook and bounced its way down to the mekong arriving a little after eight tonight. i didn’t talk to anyone. i didn’t sleep. i looked straight ahead and reflected.

there’s so much to say about what i’m feeling right now that i never want to forget that it will have to be saved for another day. i am free now and will write. i have independence and will reflect.

i can only see my parents driving me down wide roads full of big cars from new york to meetinghouse rd. i can only see the road and hear the hum of the car. it is night time and we’re all sitting there and no one knows what to say to one another. we drive and i stare straight ahead.

the group of twenty some students from bluffton will leave tomorrow and i will have much more time to reflect. my time here is collapsing around me like the walls of a brick tower.

we will reflect on our experiences over the last three weeks at a very high class vietnamese restaurant. i will sit with my laptop and record everything i hear. i have been recording their experiences and will boil them down and post them in due time.

they have been everywhere from hanoi to ho chi minh city to the mekong. they have seen much and we have been moving every day. this last day is reserved for shopping and exploring the big city for one last time. they have helped me to see vietnam with fresh eyes again.

while they have helped me see this place in a new light, they have also helped me to get back in touch with american culture. i have been terrified of moving back to america for the two months of summer. i have been trying to place myself in different situations. i have been trying to feel what it will be like. i fail miserably. i am afraid but i hate fear.

what will it be like to sit on the sofa at home again. what will it be like to sit around the dining room table and talk with my family. how have i changed. how have they changed. how will we relate. what will it be like to turn on the television and feel frustrated. what will it be like to talk to people and have them ask me, 'so, how is vietnam?'

how do you answer such a question?

'it's great!'

i will return because i have a ticket which sits in the top drawer of my desk. it hides in the clutter of business cards and other relationships that have not been pursued. i look at it sometimes and when i open the drawer to look for a pen it shouts at me.

i don't know what to think. i am sliding down a slippery slope. i am sliding down and clawing at the earth with my fingers and trying to dig in with my heels but no matter how hard i try i continue to fall. faster. faster. my stomach turns because i have lost control.

two weeks from tomorrow i leave and i have not had much time to reflect on my time here. the group of students leaves on monday and i will begin to relax and process.

the last three days have been spent in the sprawling city of can tho. it’s something like the st. louis of vietnam, a large, bustling city located in the middle of farmer’s fields. we came to talk about our cultural exchange. we came to sell the university on more of a partnership. time was well spent, but it’s nice to be back home in long xuyen.

i have been, as i usually am, shocked at spending so much time with a group of americans. the mannerisms and perspectives are fascinating. they remind me of a distant place i am so familiar with, one that has stood still for the past two years in my mind and through the internet.

i have been playing a number of roles the past few weeks. i have been a tour guide, a resident, a foreigner, a translator and much more. the diversity of these roles has been exhausting. this all coupled with my sickness.

i had a dream last night that i was swimming up the mekong. the water was a bit choppy and brown. i turned around and could see the town of long xuyen in all its glory. there was the giant television tower, the market, the park and all the matchbox buildings smashed together end to end. i was swimming away and heading between two island rivers covered with vegetation.

all of the sudden there were two giant whales in the middle of the river. they were both grey, the kind of whales that use their mouths as a giant filter. the kind that have a giant under bite and teeth that look like a sponge. they swam closer and closer to me. i swam faster. soon enough they were right behind me trying to eat me. they were eye-less beasts with skin that was as slippery as wet tile. i kicked at their noses and stared at them as they flailed in the water. i starred and fought and looked at long xuyen as it grew smaller and smaller on the horizon.

i woke up sweating, confused.

i haven’t been eating well. i think i know what the problem is.

one of the foreigners who is working here recently discovered that they had worms. they went to the doctor and were told that, because they had worms, other people who live in their proximity may also have worms.

i may have worms.

i remember when i was a child my cat had worms. we used to have to give it a nice white pill and it would never eat it. it would always gag and fight. i now have to take a similar pill every day for the next couple of days to make sure that i don’t have worms.

these worms, hook worms, latch onto the inside of your stomach and feed randomly on what you eat. it is very odd to believe that you have these little critters latched on somewhere inside of you just waiting for your next meal. it is, in some ways, like being pregnant. you care for your child, nourish it and eventually give birth.

i am not positive that i have worms. i am only sure that i am not eating well and that i feel strange. i will continue to take the white pill that reminds me of the white pill that my cat used to have to eat and will only hope that i regain my appetite in the next few days.

no one wants to live with the fact that they’re carrying an unwanted child.

we’re spending a lot of time with vietnamese teachers and students working on something called icc. icc stands for intercultural communicative competence and it’s been a challenge for all involved.

the basic idea is simple but rarely used. when you teach a language in a foreign setting, you are imparting culture. through this process, one must be conscience of the cultural assumptions that are being taught. one of the best ways to help people understand these cultural assumptions is to put both sides of people in contact with one another. you’re basically facilitating a cultural dialogue which doesn’t normally happen.

the american students present on a variety of topics, at times with a vietnamese student presenting from the other side. these presentations are then the catalyst for questions and discussions and we try to get at the core issues that characterize the two cultures.

the process has been successful thus far and we’re hoping for more in-depth conversations involving more universities in american and around the world. hopefully, through the process of icc, we’ll be able to understand more about other cultures, our own culture and eventually develop a more global perspective.

agh, we've been moving.

i've been seeing this culture with fresh eyes. it's really a refreshing way to see the world.

since we've been back in long xuyen, our schedule has remained intense.

it's a shame, but i just haven't had any energy to write lately. i'm sorry.

we went to watch professionals cook today. we did about thirty seven other things but this is the one that currently sticks out in my mind.

it is a nice restaurant and they were nice enough to give us lessons. the kitchen was clean and small. there were four of five men working there in smart shirts.

they taught us how to make spring rolls. the chef took two cleavers and started making a wonderful thump-idy-dump-idy-thump rhythm. he chopped everything.

they cooked beef in bamboo shoots on a large grill. the man who grilled was wearing a gas attendant’s shirt.

they grilled fish and chopped up mangos and added baby shrimps and served it all with a smile and we all left full and exhausted.

we went to watch professionals cook today. we did about thirty seven other things but this is the one that currently sticks out in my mind.

it is a nice restaurant and they were nice enough to give us lessons. the kitchen was clean and small. there were four of five men working there in smart shirts.

they taught us how to make spring rolls. the chef took two cleavers and started making a wonderful thump-idy-dump-idy-thump rhythm. he chopped everything.

they cooked beef in bamboo shoots on a large grill. the man who grilled was wearing a gas attendant’s shirt.

they grilled fish and chopped up mangos and added baby shrimps and served it all with a smile and we all left full and exhausted.

today i woke up at four. we got on a bus and drove south for five hours. i spent the morning organizing a greeting from the bus using my mobile phone. they greeted us and it rained. we left and i unpacked. we had lunch and the group got a two hour tour of campus. we met the vice rector at two in the afternoon. the group was fitted for clothes from three to four thirty. i spent the time reserving tables in restaurants and finding 11 wiley bicycle taxis and arguing about prices. we drove in a long line through the city. it must have been at least fifty feet long. the head taxi took a wrong turn. we ended up changing our mind and buying fabric before supper. i ran to the restaurant and changed the reservations. we came to the restaurant. we ate and then were driven back to school. we listened to a lecture on agriculture and economic development in the mekong given by university staff. the lecture ended at 10.

that was the last 18 hours or so.

i was going to write something about how beautiful ho chi minh city is after a hard rain. i went to coffee and walked through the rain. the water poured down and bubbled on the sidewalk. all was warm and somehow cool. it was beautiful.

however, on my way to the cafe, i bought a copy of time, newsweek and the economist.

my mood could have not been more sour.

i sat reading story after story of what was termed 'prison abuses' (a phrase that, in my opinion, could refer to something as harsh as a general embezzling the money earmarked for dessert spending). the pictures and stories of such disgusting abuse made me physically ill. to imagine i am to come home to a place that has been involved in such abominations makes me ill.

i looked at the pictures and sighed, just like my mother does, through the mouth, slowly, with eyes that are not fully closed. i sighed and tried to understand. i left feeling heavy and walked down majestic streets just washed clean by the rain.

i felt like a stone in a dry river.

we've come down to ho chi minh city to sample some southern life. i'm amazed at the development here.

we go to coffee shops and sit for a bit after a busy day of traveling and staring. one coffee shop near the center of city is a giant maze of tables and aisles and stairs that wind up and down and all around. waitresses and waiters stand staring through walls in their nice uniforms. there are neon signs everywhere.

we order coffee and sit in font of giant television screens blaring. there is no sound but the images do the screaming for you.

we watched professional wrestling.

i hadn't seen such a spectacle in, oh, a couple of years and was quite shocked. i remember sitting on my parents bed and secrectly watching the wwf (no, not the world wildlife federation) on saturday mornings when i was a child. i remember people jumping and punching and falling. how much of it was real. i was never sure.

today we saw a match between a man named 'el grand luchador' or something to that effect. he played to the hispanic minority. we also saw the villian, a man whose name escapes me, who drove up in a limo with large horns on the roof. he was a rich man of some sort and was quite proud. the croud, mainly made up of fattish men in ac/dc shirts, booed.

they sparred in the ring for a bit, jumped around and eventually one man pinned the other after many theatrics. i'm coming home in less than a month and, for the first time, felt apprehension.

wow

this is the first time i have ever really been able to learn about hanoi. every other time i have come up here i have been bogged down by work and have not been able to roam around the city with the goal of understanding culture and history. with this group things are different.

two days ago we went to the current home of uncle ho. this was the first time i had the opportunity to visit this historic site and i had been interested for quite a long time. the building is large, square and gray. you go through a number of security checkpoints and eventually end up walking down along the edge of the square where uncle ho declared independence from the french. inside the building the atmosphere is extremely serious. this is arguably the most holy site in all of vietnam. uncle ho looked peaceful and had skin of glowing yellow.

we then went to the ho chi minh museum built by the ussr. the museum takes the shape of a concrete lotus that has lost all of its natural grace. we walked through the museum and learned about uncle ho's teachings and how the ussr felt he fit into the global socialist movement.

yesterday we went on a smallish bus to a variety of craft type villages. in the north, competitive advantage has been going on for centuries. different villages will specialize in different crafts, whether it be killing pigs or making silk. we visited a pottery village, a silk village and a wood cutting village. they were all quite interesting and the art was wonderful and the group was interested and we smiled and enjoyed life and diversity.

today, in the morning, we went to a meeting to introduce different ngo's that are based in hanoi. they talked about what it was like to be working for an ngo in a foreign country and we compared everything and hopefully understood things and life and living more clearly. possibly not.

we then went to the temple of literature. this is the traditional center of educational power for vietnamese culture. this is where, for 900 years, students were admitted into doctoral programs. all of the graduates names are written on large, gray stones mounted on turtles.

we then went to the temple of vietnamese fine art. we saw paintings depicting everything from the horrors of war to the beauty of family.

to include all of those places in one post will attest to the intensity of our schedule. i would like to write more but am tired.

hanoi, beautiful hanoi.

so the group of students arrived at the airport. they all filed out after being on planes and sitting and eating meals that come with tin lids for the past thirty odd hours.

we drove into the city and people starred out the windows taking in all of what would be their home for the next three weeks or so. they saw the green fields stretch towards the horizon. they saw the insane traffic and the motorcycles that sped in all directions. they saw everything and said little.

we all arrived at the hotel and checked in. they stood in the lobby with hundred yard stares. they were looking through walls and seeing other rooms with people milling around. looking at them made me tired.

we walked around hanoi and talked about the center and the confusion of their many roads. they were all ready, but not tonight.

almost all of them are in bed and their fatigue has rubbed off on me.

they're excited and really ready for this adventure. they just need a good night of sleep first.

i'm in hanoi and mcc has rented me a motorcycle. i drive around and am completely lost and spent all afternoon trying to find out where i was.

lets start a bit further back, shall we?

yesterday it was hot. it was hot like it should be in the south. i was scared heading north. i was afraid it was going to be cold and i hadn't felt the cold in, oh, a year and a half. i was afraid it would be frigid and i have only short sleeved shirts and sandals and no socks. i was doomed. thankfully, it was warm yesterday.

i woke up this morning to a heavy rain. i listened to it pound the house and felt warm and comfortable in bed. this was just another monsoon type storm that was warm and lush like taking a nice shower. i opened the window and stood still. i was shocked. it was freezing.

the reports say that it's about 60 degrees today. 60 degrees is warm. i can't stop shivering and can't feel the ends of my fingers and my ears are red and sore. 60 degrees and i am immobilized by the cold.

i drive around on the motorbike in chaotic traffic not giving anything unless i have to. i swerve and shiver and stop and drink hot coffee, something else i haven't had in a solid year. it feels good and warms you up inside.

the streets of hanoi are different from the south. this is an older city with streets that are much more narrow. i got lost in the web of roads above the hoan keim lake. it's an indecipherable mess of short roads with names that change at random. i drove and drove and only stopped when i was completely sure i wasn't anywhere close to the lake. i stopped, looked at the map and found myself to be a good 100 yards away.

i should buy a long-sleeved shirt sometime and maybe some socks.

work on the huge project is over. it's not all for the public forum so email me if you want to know more.

i'm shifting gears, heading to hanoi and must start thinking about intercultural communicative competence.

a group of students and two faculty members from bluffton college is going to spend a little more than three weeks touring around vietnam and i'm going with them.

i'm currently in ho chi minh city waiting for my flight and preparing for their visit to the economic hub of vietnam. the place is, bustling, as always. people are everywhere moving and working and driving and pushing brooms and serving coffee and smiling and shouting and being, well, human.

i walk to all my familiar places and talk to the people i know.

'ah, the american with a southern accent! good to see you!'

'good to see you too. how are you?'

'great. do you want to buy the economist?'

'sure, do you have the two latest issues?'

'sure. for 70,000.'

'great.'

and that's all. everything's a part of normal life. things are floating along as they should. there's nothing strange on the radar.

these university students will come here and i will see the world through their eyes again. i will experience the first impressions of vietnam all over again and, for the next three weeks, i'll talk about our journey.

there's so much to learn. there are so many places to go. there are so many people to see. there's so much we don't know and we'll never know but why not put down whatever mindless task you're doing right now and do something new and fresh. something that changes you just a bit.