Today is a very good evening, for tomorrow is a holiday here in Vietnam: National Day. The day is not marked with any particular celebrations, it is more simply a time to rest and spend time with family. It is supposedly akin to our Labour Day. Still, the streets have quickly filled with Vietnamese flags (red with a yellow star in the centre) and banners marked with the infamous communist sickle and hammer. Cheratien, Jeremy, and I have been invited to join Thao, one the the Vietnamese staff member, as she makes prayers at a pagoda and to visit her family in the countryside. We will go by motorbike, tomorrow morning at 6:30.

This weekend past was an interesting one. Friday was a night in with movies and sushi. Saturday, Cheratien and I had intended to explore the downtown a bit further. However, a few days before I had been given the auspicious honour (by the owners) of MCing the grand opening ceremonies. The owners informed me that I was choosen for the gig because of "my way with words and my pleasant speaking voice," but mostly because I "look nice". I was told that parents think good teaching is important, but that it is more important for the teacher to be beautiful. HA!!

I was called in for an emergency meeting on Saturday afternoon, to spend many long hours going over and re-envisioning every detail of the ceremony. Then, Thao Fam, my Vietnamese co-MC and I spent hours revamping the script and making corrections, only to have the owner come and present more desired changes (syncing a Vietnamese and English script is no easy task). We also practiced rehearing the names of the dignitaries. The head of the entire Ministry of Education of Vietnam was attending the event. Thao advised me that is was particularly important that I pronounced his name correctly, not only because of his position, but also because if I got the intonation of his name wrong, I would be accidentally calling him "Mr. Boob Pussy." Clearly, this put a lot of additional stress on me, especially since the event was televised on Vietnamese T.V. The staff also decided that I should wear an ao dai (traditional Vietnamese outfit). The owner sent out for several ao dai's, which I could immediately would never fit on my body. Still, they insisted that I tried them on. I felt very Chris Farley. Fat girl in a little ao dai. When I informed them that I just would not fit into them, the assistant gleefully smacked my arms and then my hips and said, "I didn't think so." Ha. She, instead, brought one of her own from home for me to wear. It fit smashingly well.

The Monday morning event went well, all things considered. I apparently did not deeply offend any esteemed guests. The event started an hour and a half late, due to the late arrival of our most dignified guest. The kids sat in sweltering heat. One JK puked on the red carpet. Mid way through the ceremony we had to make an impromptu rejigging of the ceremony, which made all those hours spent in the board room on Saturday quite a bit more comical. Highlights of the ceremony: a giant circus tent, and inflatable red arch at the entrance, massive flower displays, and a mural created by the students' and dignitaries' hand prints. All in all, a hilarious and interesting event to be a part of.

My students humble me every day with their curiosity. I have some characters, and I love the energy they bring to the classes.

Saturday night--we had our first dinner guest, Kim. We also went dancing in the city. We ran into some acquaintances there; imagine having "run-ins" in Saigon.

Sunday we finally got to exploring the city. We decided to take the bus into town (approximately 25 cents per ride). After failed attempts to catch the bus, a nearby xe om driver walked us across the street, to the appropriate bus stop, waited for the bus to arrive, saw us on safely and refused our offers of money. His name is Fung and he will likely get our xe om business in the future, for his unselfish assistance. The bus ride was excellent-- a meandering tour through District 7 and 8. River side fruit stores aboard boats. Men and women resting in hammocks. Men sipping drinks in slow patroned shops. We wandered the markets and street downtown for some time. Jeremy met us just in time for him to get physically molested by the sales people at the market. We had a lovely dinner, frozen yogurt, and an emergency stop in the bookstore on the way back to avoid a torrential downpour. I have taken to stopping there during rainstorm and reading the third book of the Twilight series.

Life is getting to hold some routine, or at least familiarities. The smell of mothballs no longer wrinkles my nose so severely. Stickers that are difficult to remove (their sticker glue is just a lot stronger) stay on goods we purchase, until natural ware removes them (seems to be the Vietnamese way). We have mastered the crossing of the road (so maybe "mastered" is a strong word, but we have at least gotten better). I saw a huge rat in the buses on the way to school last week and did not run away shrieking. We are starting to get "cold" in air conditioned rooms set to "room temperature." All these tells notify me, subtly, of our adaptability as humans.

Alright... I am off to bed, for tomorrow is an early morning.

Much love!