With the school year wrapping up, I've complied a list of stuff I need to get done by the end of the month. One thing on the list is getting some routine maintenance (bao duong) done on my Honda Super Dream. Since the bike is still pretty new, it's not been through much more than some oil changes and some minor adjustments to the brakes and chain.
Of course, like anywhere else, there's the challenge of finding a good mechanic. A few months ago a place dropped a flier in our gate that made them look like a pretty good choice, and it is a lot closer than the dealer where I bought it. So I rode up to the front door, told the guy what I wanted, and sat and watched for the hour or so that it took a mechanic to almost completely disassemble the motorbike, adjust and lube everything possible, and put it back together again. I was surprised! I mean, he even took apart the shocks.
After he washed it and another guy double-checked everything and took it for a spin, I got the bill. 50,000 VND. But they didn't realize I wanted the oil changed too. That added 40,000. Apparently oil costs a lot more than labor. The whole thing translated to $5.63 USD. I wish I had found a mechanic like that for my motorcycle in the US!
May 3, 2008
April 9, 2008
Weekends
Lately there have been so many "little" things going on at the same time that it seems like there's nothing "big" to write about. But, since Easter, there's been something going on every weekend.
First was a trip to Thai Nguyen. It's been a long time since I've been back (and longer for Nancy), so we hopped on the bus Saturday morning to visit a couple of our friends/former students. Aside from the usual "trolling," it was a smooth trip. "Trolling" is what we call it when the bus leaves the station and sloooowly pokes along the road looking for additional passengers to fill the empty seats - and the aisle, and any laps that look like they have room. We trolled almost all the way to the airport, but we had good seats this time so it wasn't bad from where we sat.
We visited with our friends, had lunch at a seafood restaurant, and marveled at the big lobster-like critter in the tank that you could order for $100 US per kilogram. And we were absolutely amazed to see a 4-story shopping center, complete with escalators, standing where the old, open-air central market had been.
Our friend and Nancy have been quite close over the years and she spent most of the day lobbying Nancy to move back up to Thai Nguyen to hang out, practice English, play with her kids, etc. (She has cute kids, but it didn't work.)
In the old days, Nancy taught our friend to bake and she's gotten pretty good at it. But she's been busy with work and family and hasn't had much time for baking. So, after helping her assemble an apple pie and sticking it in the oven, we headed out to catch one of the last buses back to Hanoi.
The following weekend was the big "Miss IIR" contest. IIR is the old name for our school - The Institute for International Relations. (The name was recently changed to The Diplomacy Institute of Vietnam.). The field had been narrowed from the original 25 contestants to 11 and Saturday night was the big competition. It was quite an event, but also quite long. I didn't stick around for all four hours, but I heard that a girl in one of Josh's freshman classes took first place.
It looks like weekends will stay full for a while. On Saturday we're going with the rest of the VTF team to Ha Long Bay to treat our spring fever and the following weekend we're in Beijing for the VTF/CTF team leader summit.
First was a trip to Thai Nguyen. It's been a long time since I've been back (and longer for Nancy), so we hopped on the bus Saturday morning to visit a couple of our friends/former students. Aside from the usual "trolling," it was a smooth trip. "Trolling" is what we call it when the bus leaves the station and sloooowly pokes along the road looking for additional passengers to fill the empty seats - and the aisle, and any laps that look like they have room. We trolled almost all the way to the airport, but we had good seats this time so it wasn't bad from where we sat.
We visited with our friends, had lunch at a seafood restaurant, and marveled at the big lobster-like critter in the tank that you could order for $100 US per kilogram. And we were absolutely amazed to see a 4-story shopping center, complete with escalators, standing where the old, open-air central market had been.
Our friend and Nancy have been quite close over the years and she spent most of the day lobbying Nancy to move back up to Thai Nguyen to hang out, practice English, play with her kids, etc. (She has cute kids, but it didn't work.)
In the old days, Nancy taught our friend to bake and she's gotten pretty good at it. But she's been busy with work and family and hasn't had much time for baking. So, after helping her assemble an apple pie and sticking it in the oven, we headed out to catch one of the last buses back to Hanoi.
The following weekend was the big "Miss IIR" contest. IIR is the old name for our school - The Institute for International Relations. (The name was recently changed to The Diplomacy Institute of Vietnam.). The field had been narrowed from the original 25 contestants to 11 and Saturday night was the big competition. It was quite an event, but also quite long. I didn't stick around for all four hours, but I heard that a girl in one of Josh's freshman classes took first place.
It looks like weekends will stay full for a while. On Saturday we're going with the rest of the VTF team to Ha Long Bay to treat our spring fever and the following weekend we're in Beijing for the VTF/CTF team leader summit.
March 25, 2008
Easter Party
Easter's more of a church-going event than a party one, but an Easter party is a good way to introduce students to an important holiday that few of them have ever heard of. Even if they don't know the Christmas story, they at least know about Christmas. Easter, on the other hand, is almost totally unknown.The first big question the 7 of us on VTF faced was, "How can we do an Easter party for all of our
students?" We've got a total of almost 30 classes this semester with most class sizes hovering around 30. Nine hundred students?!But, at this point in the year, we kind of know which students we've been able to build relationships with and who may be the best ones to invite. So we decided that we would each invite 3 students. Seventeen showed up.
A few of the teachers hid eggs in the garden on campus. Nancy and Melia stood guard while the rest of us met the students
out front. (While we were waiting, a little girl discovered a couple of the eggs and was about to start smashing them till our "guards" intervened!)The plastic eggs contained strips of paper with parts of the Easter story written on them. The rest of them were hard-boiled. After they were all found, we headed to our house where Josh and Melia helped half the group dye eggs while Deena told the other half the story and then had them put the strips in order. Then we switched groups and repeated the process.
No Vietnamese student party is complete without singing so, after singing "He Lives!" in both languages (and an assortment of other songs that have nothing to do with Easter), we all called it a night. It couldn't have gone smoother and it was great to have a house full of students again.
March 23, 2008
Signs of Easter Are...
...nowhere to be found.
At least not like you see signs of Christmas. The commercial side of Christmas has definitely made its way to Hanoi, but that's not the case with Easter. Three months ago, life-sized plastic Santas stood in front of shops with their motorized arms waving and pre-recorded, "Ho, Ho, Ho's" bellowing. Sidewalk vendors were selling Santa hats. Toy stores stocked artificial Christmas trees, stuffed St. Nick's and tinsel. But I can't find plastic eggs anywhere.
On the non-commercial front, it is encouraging to see a large resurrection mural on the front of the city's large Vietnamese Catholic church. Friday night the two International churches in Hanoi got together for a service. Anticipating more people attending than usual, HIF had two identical services on Sunday morning. Monday night VTF is banding together for some egg-dying with students and the deeper story of Easter.
Saturday night most of the Hanoi teachers, and a few from out-of-town, got together at the director's house to share a meal and talk a bit about what Easter means to them. A couple of people mentioned what it's like to tell the story in simplified, understandable English to people who are hearing it for the first time. In that setting it's easy to be talking and thinking at the same time - telling the story while thinking, "This sounds crazy! Do I really believe this?"
I do. Aside from the historical evidence and my belief that it makes sense philosophically, I know the difference the Resurrected One has made in my life.
I guess there are signs of Easter after all.
At least not like you see signs of Christmas. The commercial side of Christmas has definitely made its way to Hanoi, but that's not the case with Easter. Three months ago, life-sized plastic Santas stood in front of shops with their motorized arms waving and pre-recorded, "Ho, Ho, Ho's" bellowing. Sidewalk vendors were selling Santa hats. Toy stores stocked artificial Christmas trees, stuffed St. Nick's and tinsel. But I can't find plastic eggs anywhere.
On the non-commercial front, it is encouraging to see a large resurrection mural on the front of the city's large Vietnamese Catholic church. Friday night the two International churches in Hanoi got together for a service. Anticipating more people attending than usual, HIF had two identical services on Sunday morning. Monday night VTF is banding together for some egg-dying with students and the deeper story of Easter.
Saturday night most of the Hanoi teachers, and a few from out-of-town, got together at the director's house to share a meal and talk a bit about what Easter means to them. A couple of people mentioned what it's like to tell the story in simplified, understandable English to people who are hearing it for the first time. In that setting it's easy to be talking and thinking at the same time - telling the story while thinking, "This sounds crazy! Do I really believe this?"
I do. Aside from the historical evidence and my belief that it makes sense philosophically, I know the difference the Resurrected One has made in my life.
I guess there are signs of Easter after all.
March 16, 2008
The National Pediatrics Hospital
On Thursday we found out that a friend and former student had to take her 4-month old daughter to the hospital in Hanoi. She had already had a CT scan and chest X-ray at the hospital in the provincial capital where they live, but the hospital said the problem was beyond them and suggested she bring her to Hanoi. We got a call saying they were at the National Pediatrics Hospital (Benh Vien Nhi Truong Uong)and started trying to figure out how to visit.
No Yellow Pages Here.
The most complicated part is finding the hospital since Benh Vien Nhi Truong Uong is listed as Bao ve Suc Khoe Tre em on the map. But our friend had given us the name of the street so it was just a matter of narrowing it down. I figured it would make the most sense to start asking near the place called Bao ve Suc Khoe Tre em, since "Tre em" means "child." On my way home from the Chinese Embassy (picking up visas for our April meetings), I pulled over and asked a bicycle repairman who had set up shop by the side of the road. He was eager to help; I had only gotten "Benh Vien Nhi" out of my mouth when he pointed down the road and told me to go straight ahead, through the intersection and turn left after about 200 meters. Turns out it's only about 1/2 mile from our house. I had ridden up to the gate last week when I was looking for a shortcut; I just hadn't paid attention to the sign.
So that's how, on Friday afternoon, Nancy and I found ourselves in the middle of a sprawling medical complex, wondering where we could find our friend and her baby.
The Hospital
The Pediatrics Hospital was full of kids - and parents, aunts and uncles. Because medical staff only takes care of medical matters, a trip to the hospital is a family event. Non-medical stuff, like bathing and changing diapers is the responsibility of the family. Food is up to the patient too - you buy it from the carts that are wheeled around the hospital or bring it in yourself. Visiting hours are scheduled around meals (6-7 AM, 11 AM - 1 PM, and 4 - 8 PM).
For less than $1/day, you get a spot in an 8-bed ward. Our friend is well-off enough that she could afford the quieter $20/day semi-private room (2 beds, a bathroom and sink - no hot water).
Vietnam's communal culture showed up even in the hallway of the neurology ward where adults and kids seemed to interact like one big extended family. Not surprisingly, everyone noticed Nancy and I as we walked through the hall. Surprisingly, no one said anything. We had a short visit, got to look at the films from the CT scan and X-ray (they were tucked under the mattress for safekeeping), and came back that evening with some pizza and fried rice Nancy bought from a local restaurant.
We were back several times over the next few days to pray, try to encourage, and help out wherever we could. Our little friend was back to her happy little self on Saturday and discharged on Sunday. The whole experience left me feeling overwhelmed at the huge number of kids there and wishing I could do something to help.
No Yellow Pages Here.
The most complicated part is finding the hospital since Benh Vien Nhi Truong Uong is listed as Bao ve Suc Khoe Tre em on the map. But our friend had given us the name of the street so it was just a matter of narrowing it down. I figured it would make the most sense to start asking near the place called Bao ve Suc Khoe Tre em, since "Tre em" means "child." On my way home from the Chinese Embassy (picking up visas for our April meetings), I pulled over and asked a bicycle repairman who had set up shop by the side of the road. He was eager to help; I had only gotten "Benh Vien Nhi" out of my mouth when he pointed down the road and told me to go straight ahead, through the intersection and turn left after about 200 meters. Turns out it's only about 1/2 mile from our house. I had ridden up to the gate last week when I was looking for a shortcut; I just hadn't paid attention to the sign.
So that's how, on Friday afternoon, Nancy and I found ourselves in the middle of a sprawling medical complex, wondering where we could find our friend and her baby.
The Hospital
The Pediatrics Hospital was full of kids - and parents, aunts and uncles. Because medical staff only takes care of medical matters, a trip to the hospital is a family event. Non-medical stuff, like bathing and changing diapers is the responsibility of the family. Food is up to the patient too - you buy it from the carts that are wheeled around the hospital or bring it in yourself. Visiting hours are scheduled around meals (6-7 AM, 11 AM - 1 PM, and 4 - 8 PM).
For less than $1/day, you get a spot in an 8-bed ward. Our friend is well-off enough that she could afford the quieter $20/day semi-private room (2 beds, a bathroom and sink - no hot water).
Vietnam's communal culture showed up even in the hallway of the neurology ward where adults and kids seemed to interact like one big extended family. Not surprisingly, everyone noticed Nancy and I as we walked through the hall. Surprisingly, no one said anything. We had a short visit, got to look at the films from the CT scan and X-ray (they were tucked under the mattress for safekeeping), and came back that evening with some pizza and fried rice Nancy bought from a local restaurant.
We were back several times over the next few days to pray, try to encourage, and help out wherever we could. Our little friend was back to her happy little self on Saturday and discharged on Sunday. The whole experience left me feeling overwhelmed at the huge number of kids there and wishing I could do something to help.
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