Finally, a full quiet beach day, where I can sit silently and listen to the waves of the bay… And the Russians, Swedes, Aussies and Brits around me. Some tourists are definitely kinder on the land and the workers here than others. Need to learn how to say “inside voices” in Russian. And if there’s broken glass and cigarette butts strewn in the otherwise pristine white sand, we know the guilty culprit.
I am more entertained talking to the people who work here, practicing my Vietnamese, making struggling attempts at jokes. I still can’t speak much more than small talk, but I can order food and have the basic Viet conversation which strikes at all ages:
What your name?
How are you doing?
Why you speak Vietnamese?
How old are you?
What you do?
Do you have boyfriend?
So pretty!
So skinny!
This is all said in Vietnamese of course. People here love to make jokes. Other phrases I know that people drop into conversations go with other things you say to kids:
Get over here!
Shut up!
You’re lazy!
You’re handsome!
You’re fat!
So tired!
Go to bed/work/market/eat/school/home/get ice cream!
So that extensive list (hardly), combined with all my animals and numbers exhausts my Vietnamese skillz.
Hard to believe, but I am told I speak softly when I speak in Viet. Me? Have I ever been quiet - after the age of 13? Impossible! Unaware of this, I’m definitely trying to speak louder. It helps. Even if I fuck up they know where I’m going with it.
The language is like the food, full of subtle accents and nuances. Someone will say what they think I mean, and when I repeat it, I can tell the slightest, tiniest difference. Can’t point it out beforehand though.
It’s been good to spend the first week here with my mom. She’s back in the countryside with a fever, sore throat and lost voice. Poor ma oi! When I insist on ordering in restaurants, the servers always look at her, if I get it wrong or right.
Today we grab cafe sua da and waters at our favorite sidewalk café after Brian gets a straight razor shave and head massage for $2. I’m getting good at the imitation of a Viet saying “massaaaaah?” We watch the indigenous ridgeback dogs take naps in the sun, and watch the shirtless men playing a Viet version of dominos. Checkers? I dunno. They slam down the tiles: boo-ya, in your FACE.
We pay the woman owner when we leave - chicks are in charge here. At Ben Thanh market in Saigon almost every vendor is a woman, busting her ass either cooking or taking the money and bussing tables, with only a sprinkling of dudes. Cafés are full of middle aged men, drinking iced coffee or beer. Not to say men don’t work, the market last night was full of them. But maybe it’s a city thing.
We walk to rent mopeds, and wait for the guy to bring the xe om around. There’s a puppy and a crowd of local boys around him, so cute. One guy grabs his son, six years old, and says to me, Teacher! Teach him English? Ugh, my heart sinks. I wish I could stay forever and teach them. Vietnamese people teaching English is like an American teaching Vietnamese: so much gets lost.
Our Yamaha LX pulls up and Brian takes it for a spin around the corner to make sure he remembers how to ride. I turn to the boys and say, Where’s the puppy? I mistakenly thought it belonged to someone. They tell me the puppy left.
Ok, holy shit, a Wonder Girls video is on and Bobby Lee is starring in it. I love him. He’s definitely outshining these blowup dolls. The song is 2 Different Tears. It seems like K Pop are the only people spending money on videos. A lot of green screen and tons of roto. Only a couple sets that I can see. Commercials are atrocious over here, too. I have no idea how Brian could clock dollars here - more feasible in HK.
Tomorrow: the hunt for sea urchin is on, from the back of the LX. I hear you can eat it right out of the shell in the north of the island. I’m so there.
