Posted by Andrew:
Question: What is the difference between Nguyen Kim and Nguyen Khim?
Punchline: 10 dollars in the taxi.
So far, pronunciation of Vietnamese has been one of the biggest challenges. Yesterday we asked a taxi driver to take us to Nguyen Kim, a large electronics store where we wanted to buy cell phones. We had been there once before, a 20 minute ride into District 1. From looking at the map, I knew there were two ways into District 1, so when the taxi driver didn't go in the direction I expected, I assumed he was taking the other route. 35 minutes later, he pulled to the side on a strange street and said, "Nguyen Khim." I looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings and I asked, "Nguyen Kim?" After several of these back and forth, including my pantomiming of cell phones, ipods, and floor fans, he finally got the point. "Oooooh. Nugyen Kim! Why didn't you say so?" 20 minutes and 10 dollars later, we arrived.
Pronunciation has also been difficult when telling taxi drivers where we live. Our apartment is My Phuoc (pronounced Me F*ck). There is another apartment which is larger and more recognized called My Phuc (pronounced Me Fuke). With my strong American accent, it is difficult for taxi drivers to tell the difference. I have resorted to just pointing the way when we get to our neighborhood. However, when ordering large water bottles for home delivery on the phone, I had to loudly and repeatedly say the apartment name.
Water Company: Me Fuke?
Me: No, Me F*ck!
Water Company: Aaah. Me Fuke.
Me: No, ME F*CK!
Water Company: Yes, yes. Me Fuke. What apartment number?
Me: No! ME F*CK, P..H..U..O..C. ME F*CK!
Water Company: OK. Me F*ck. What floor?
Me: Floor eight.
Water Company: Floor A. Very good. 30 minutes.
Luckily the words for "hello", "thank you", and "I'm sorry" all have easy pronunciation.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Close Encounter
of a lizard kind.
We have looked at over 20 apartments since Saturday morning. Yesterday, I kept noticing what was obviously some sort of small animal waste in many of the apartments. The first time I saw it, I thought the previous tenants must have had some sort of large'ish bird. The second time I saw it, I started to be a little more suspicious. The fifth time I saw it, I finally gathered the courage to ask what kind of rodent it was. There was much concern from our entourage of 8 and they all gathered close for an inspection. Everyone held their breath until Mr. Hue sighed, stood up and said, "It's from a lizard". There was much laughing and smiling. "Ah", we said, "a lizard." THAT we can deal with.
This morning, in our hotel, I was getting ready for a shower when I heard a little yelp from the living room area. I poked my head around the corner to see if all was ok. Andrew was standing, reading something when he felt something on his foot. When he looked down, it was a small lizard. He yelped and kicked at the same time. We haven't been able to find that poor lizard since.
posted by: Debra
We have looked at over 20 apartments since Saturday morning. Yesterday, I kept noticing what was obviously some sort of small animal waste in many of the apartments. The first time I saw it, I thought the previous tenants must have had some sort of large'ish bird. The second time I saw it, I started to be a little more suspicious. The fifth time I saw it, I finally gathered the courage to ask what kind of rodent it was. There was much concern from our entourage of 8 and they all gathered close for an inspection. Everyone held their breath until Mr. Hue sighed, stood up and said, "It's from a lizard". There was much laughing and smiling. "Ah", we said, "a lizard." THAT we can deal with.
This morning, in our hotel, I was getting ready for a shower when I heard a little yelp from the living room area. I poked my head around the corner to see if all was ok. Andrew was standing, reading something when he felt something on his foot. When he looked down, it was a small lizard. He yelped and kicked at the same time. We haven't been able to find that poor lizard since.
posted by: Debra
Saturday, July 16, 2011
24 Hours and 14 Time Zones
Posted by Andrew:
After about 24 hours of travel (Seattle, Seoul, Ho Chi Minh City), we have landed at the Hoang Yen Hotel in Phu My Hung, a suburb of Saigon. Even though we are exhausted, the trip was relatively easy. I tend to worry much more than I need to. Some highlights -
All of Korean Airlines...The stewardesses in baby blue tops and ultra-starched white scarves. There is a ratio of about 1 stewardess to 5 passengers. When we boarded our flight from Seattle, there were slippers, toothbrushes, and water bottles on our seats waiting for us. Debra and I immediately put on the slippers and padded around the plane in them for the next 12 hours. We were tempted to join the Korean Air elite passenger club which is called "Morning Calm."
Elia's air sickness somewhere over the Pacific...The mess in the aisle was not exactly a highlight, nor was the fact that 7 flight attendants descended on us as soon as it happened and had the whole thing cleaned up in about 45 seconds. What was a highlight was the elderly Korean woman next to Elia. As soon as Elia stopped throwing up, the Korean woman began to vigorously massage Elia's hands, feet, and belly. Elia immediately felt better and has been asking Debra and I to massage her feet and hands since then.
The movie selection on the flight..."Hollywood Classics" which means anything from The Terminator to Shrek to Fiddler on the Roof, all subtitled in Korean. How do you translate "Oy vey" into Korean?
The meal choices were "Burning Hot Side of Beef" or "Noodles with Short Mustard." Debra insists I just couldn't hear what the stewardess was saying. Both dishes were very good and came with as much wine as you wanted.
When we arrived in Saigon, after a brief layover in the shopping mall/airport in Seoul, we quickly cleared immigration and customs. Because of our ten suitcases with a matching blue jungle theme pattern, all of the other passengers (primarily Vietnamese) began to notice when our bags would come on the claim carousel. They would laughingly point them out to us and help pull them off and onto our overladen carts. We exited the airport into a throng of several hundred people. Entire families had showed up to welcome relatives, but we became a spectacle with our three carts, 15 bags (counting carry-ons) and very cute children.
Since getting here, everybody seems to be smiling and pointing at us, especially Asher and Elia. People are fascinated by Asher's braid, and complete strangers can't resist touching Elia's face. Both kids are completely fawned over everywhere we go. We thought Portland was kid-friendly...this place is amazing.
After about 24 hours of travel (Seattle, Seoul, Ho Chi Minh City), we have landed at the Hoang Yen Hotel in Phu My Hung, a suburb of Saigon. Even though we are exhausted, the trip was relatively easy. I tend to worry much more than I need to. Some highlights -
Elia's air sickness somewhere over the Pacific...The mess in the aisle was not exactly a highlight, nor was the fact that 7 flight attendants descended on us as soon as it happened and had the whole thing cleaned up in about 45 seconds. What was a highlight was the elderly Korean woman next to Elia. As soon as Elia stopped throwing up, the Korean woman began to vigorously massage Elia's hands, feet, and belly. Elia immediately felt better and has been asking Debra and I to massage her feet and hands since then.
The movie selection on the flight..."Hollywood Classics" which means anything from The Terminator to Shrek to Fiddler on the Roof, all subtitled in Korean. How do you translate "Oy vey" into Korean?
The meal choices were "Burning Hot Side of Beef" or "Noodles with Short Mustard." Debra insists I just couldn't hear what the stewardess was saying. Both dishes were very good and came with as much wine as you wanted.
When we arrived in Saigon, after a brief layover in the shopping mall/airport in Seoul, we quickly cleared immigration and customs. Because of our ten suitcases with a matching blue jungle theme pattern, all of the other passengers (primarily Vietnamese) began to notice when our bags would come on the claim carousel. They would laughingly point them out to us and help pull them off and onto our overladen carts. We exited the airport into a throng of several hundred people. Entire families had showed up to welcome relatives, but we became a spectacle with our three carts, 15 bags (counting carry-ons) and very cute children.
Since getting here, everybody seems to be smiling and pointing at us, especially Asher and Elia. People are fascinated by Asher's braid, and complete strangers can't resist touching Elia's face. Both kids are completely fawned over everywhere we go. We thought Portland was kid-friendly...this place is amazing.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Goodbye Home of 6 years
As can be true in life, things don't always happen as we might imagine. Our last month at our sweet homestead in Estacada has been a flurry of chores and lists that we didn't even come close to accomplishing. The goat barn is not cleaned out, the garden and orchard did not get mowed one last time, the moss did not get scraped off the roof, the walls in the mudroom are not as clean as they could be.
But the skylight that has been leaking from time to time got reflashed by a professional, the gutters were replaced, the house finally got painted fully. We laid carpet tiles in the kids' bedrooms.
Both of these lists could go on and on.
In the end, we find that what matters most are the "people" things.
We got to stay these past few days at my mom's house in Clackamas, providing us all some sweet early morning times. Frantic calls for help to friends were promptly and lovingly returned in the form of food, muscle, child fun, and in more ways than I can even think of in my busy brain at this moment.
We feel privileged to have been a part of our lives. We may be the ones moving, but we have not done it alone. Nor do we go alone. As we head out tomorrow morning on this adventure, we take all of us - our families and friends, our Portland and Estacada experiences, and our open hearts for what is to come.
But the skylight that has been leaking from time to time got reflashed by a professional, the gutters were replaced, the house finally got painted fully. We laid carpet tiles in the kids' bedrooms.
Both of these lists could go on and on.
In the end, we find that what matters most are the "people" things.
We got to stay these past few days at my mom's house in Clackamas, providing us all some sweet early morning times. Frantic calls for help to friends were promptly and lovingly returned in the form of food, muscle, child fun, and in more ways than I can even think of in my busy brain at this moment.
We feel privileged to have been a part of our lives. We may be the ones moving, but we have not done it alone. Nor do we go alone. As we head out tomorrow morning on this adventure, we take all of us - our families and friends, our Portland and Estacada experiences, and our open hearts for what is to come.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Paranoia, Self-Destroyah
Since Andrew and I made the decision to take this opportunity in Vietnam, my paranoid fantasies have been on the rise. The closer we get to departure, the more intense they seem to become. I have, at times, lived literally in fear that "something" was going to happen. Imminently.
The kids or Andrew would get hurt. The kids would disappear. Andrew would be killed in a car wreck or shot at school by some student lost in the struggle of end-of-the-year test scores. My cancer would come back. One of our mothers would be diagnosed with some fatal illness.
It wasn't until last week, when both of our children were away - Asher at sleepaway camp and Elia at a friend's house for the week, that Andrew confessed he has been having the same ill thoughts. What a relief to not be the only one. Strangely, my fears eased with both kids away, while Andrew's spiked to the point of extreme discomfort. It helped to talk about it.
Let me say that again. It helped to talk about it.
Talk about it. Whatever it is, talk about it.
The kids or Andrew would get hurt. The kids would disappear. Andrew would be killed in a car wreck or shot at school by some student lost in the struggle of end-of-the-year test scores. My cancer would come back. One of our mothers would be diagnosed with some fatal illness.
It wasn't until last week, when both of our children were away - Asher at sleepaway camp and Elia at a friend's house for the week, that Andrew confessed he has been having the same ill thoughts. What a relief to not be the only one. Strangely, my fears eased with both kids away, while Andrew's spiked to the point of extreme discomfort. It helped to talk about it.
Let me say that again. It helped to talk about it.
Talk about it. Whatever it is, talk about it.
Heartbreak Hotel
With one week to go, the toll is starting to add up. Today we found a home for our last dog. So far, we have placed 13 chickens; goats - Zoe, Zippee, Zeus, Zorro, and our pregnant Mei-Mei; dog - Lulu; cat - Captain Whizbang; and now, our Sadie Sue.
Each placement has brought relief and has taken a little piece of our heart.
The chickens, goats and Lulu have been gone long enough now that we have been able to move forward. It has helped that they all have such great placements. The chickens are happily pecking at the La Medica/Schwimmer household, the goats (now 6, with the birth of Gyzmo in May) at the Morgan's, and Lulu, in dog nirvana at the Kellogg's.
We have held on to Captain Whizbang and Sadie. For, Sadie, maybe almost too long. We have known for awhile now that Captain Whizbang is going to join the goats at the Morgan house so we have been able to rest easy on that decision. Sadie has been another story altogether. Wouldn't you know? The one pet we thought would be the easiest to place was, in the end, the hardest. Some of this I have to attribute to our own unwillingness to let her go. But let her go we must.
Yesterday, with a sick and heavy heart, I was starting to research no-kill shelters and imagining my family going off to Vietnam without me while I stayed home to find a good placement. In my head, Sadie flew to Alaska, New Jersey, Minnesota and Spain. It's been a gut wrencher, to be sure.
Today, I am pleased and relieved to report that none of this will come to pass. Sadie will be joining the household of Mark & Sue ( we don't even know their last name?!) and their cat, Jo-Jo, in SW Portland.
Now, perhaps, the real work begins. The work of grief as we say goodbye.
Each placement has brought relief and has taken a little piece of our heart.
The chickens, goats and Lulu have been gone long enough now that we have been able to move forward. It has helped that they all have such great placements. The chickens are happily pecking at the La Medica/Schwimmer household, the goats (now 6, with the birth of Gyzmo in May) at the Morgan's, and Lulu, in dog nirvana at the Kellogg's.
We have held on to Captain Whizbang and Sadie. For, Sadie, maybe almost too long. We have known for awhile now that Captain Whizbang is going to join the goats at the Morgan house so we have been able to rest easy on that decision. Sadie has been another story altogether. Wouldn't you know? The one pet we thought would be the easiest to place was, in the end, the hardest. Some of this I have to attribute to our own unwillingness to let her go. But let her go we must.
Yesterday, with a sick and heavy heart, I was starting to research no-kill shelters and imagining my family going off to Vietnam without me while I stayed home to find a good placement. In my head, Sadie flew to Alaska, New Jersey, Minnesota and Spain. It's been a gut wrencher, to be sure.
Today, I am pleased and relieved to report that none of this will come to pass. Sadie will be joining the household of Mark & Sue ( we don't even know their last name?!) and their cat, Jo-Jo, in SW Portland.
Now, perhaps, the real work begins. The work of grief as we say goodbye.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
.... and amber waves of PANIC
Last night, Andrew was practically levitating off his chair with anxiety that had no place to go. I was able to reassure him with, "It's okay, we have plenty of time", repeated over and over ad nauseum until he was able to scrape himself off the ceiling.
Today I can't breathe.
It is June 2nd. We are hoping to have our house rented by July 1st. In case you need help with the count, that is less than one month away. We have no renters on the horizon and a LOT of jobs around the place to finish. Lots to sell and do. An exchange student to graduate and his parents to entertain. Furniture to deliver. Floors to lay, gutters to replace. Good-bye parties to throw and attend. Stuff to pack and stuff to give. Schools to finish, cars to sell. Every day, at least one thing is forgotten.
Yesterday, we drove all the way to Elia's dance class in Clackamas to find the door locked and the lights off. Oh yeah, no class this week. That was after pulling the kids out of school 1-1/2 hours early for their immunization appointments only to arrive at the doctor's office (in Portland), pay our co-pay, wait, and then be told that neither of them are due for anything until September. This happening AFTER calling the day before to make sure they actually needed shots.
Yesterday it seemed kind of funny. Today I feel a little cursed. Who will scrape me off the ceiling?
Today I can't breathe.
It is June 2nd. We are hoping to have our house rented by July 1st. In case you need help with the count, that is less than one month away. We have no renters on the horizon and a LOT of jobs around the place to finish. Lots to sell and do. An exchange student to graduate and his parents to entertain. Furniture to deliver. Floors to lay, gutters to replace. Good-bye parties to throw and attend. Stuff to pack and stuff to give. Schools to finish, cars to sell. Every day, at least one thing is forgotten.
Yesterday, we drove all the way to Elia's dance class in Clackamas to find the door locked and the lights off. Oh yeah, no class this week. That was after pulling the kids out of school 1-1/2 hours early for their immunization appointments only to arrive at the doctor's office (in Portland), pay our co-pay, wait, and then be told that neither of them are due for anything until September. This happening AFTER calling the day before to make sure they actually needed shots.
Yesterday it seemed kind of funny. Today I feel a little cursed. Who will scrape me off the ceiling?
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