Chúc mừng năm mới

Happy New Year - I'm never drinking again.

A summary of what's happened since the last blog: jolly Leegood jaunt to Hoi An was pretty cool. I like: beaches, sunbathing on Christmas Eve, good food, new shoes (DRAGON BOOTS), peace and quiet, my family (even if I do revert to being a teenage brat when I'm with them ("SHUT UUUUP, I HAAATE YOU, WHATEVERRRR") - sorry family, although it's partly your fault for raising me all wrong). Christmas Day was also pretty cool, but any day that involves curry is a good day in my books. Being a spoilt brat, I got a new camera, so hopefully my blog will be vivid once again.

These photos were taken at a ruined ancient templey place near Hoi An, called My Son. Fun fact: it's not ruined because it's over a thousand years old, it's ruined because America bombed it to shit in the war, when the VC were using it as a hide-out. Thanks again America!

There was also a lot of face-pulling involved, standard.

groping an ancient religious monument, nice one

a sea monster over shiva, there was a story but i can't remember it

my mum doing a 'natural' pose

epic photo

making a mockery of cultural tradition

Now some photos of some of my students at their Christmas concert; they looked ridiculously cute in suits.

Not that teachers have favourites, but the boy on the right is my favourite

Minh Duc: ADHD in a three-piece suit

cheeky

"what this enclosed space full of hyperactive 7-year-olds clad in synthetic fabrics needs, is pyrotechnics"

Other news: my Vietnamese teacher tells me she has had to stop teaching one of her students because she suspects him of being an American spy. Apparently he was asking too many questions about the government, and expressing anti-Communist sentiments, although her suspicions were raised when he refused to learn any vocabulary, only grammar - who would do that?

I had to give a test last night to one of my classes - ADULTS, who are also TEACHERS - and I have never seen such flagrant, unashamed cheating... book-opening, conferring, walking across the classroom to look at someone else's paper... It upset everything I hold true! My deepest-rooted principles were squirming in horror. I wanted to cry out "What's the point of taking a test if it's not a representation of what you have learned?! You're devaluing your own efforts! Our shared labours lie shattered in the dust on the classroom floor!" but they wouldn't have understood my English because they're only elementary-level.

Best thing on the back of a motorbike: a cow. Driving from the airport into inner city Hanoi. Why?

I leave you with this picture of my mum, having a REALLY REALLY GREAT TIME on Christmas Day:

Seasonal ramblings

I have literally never felt less festive in the festive season; this is a wholly good thing. Goodwill to all men isn't my scene. But I have taken a week off work to do not much, as follows. Hopefully might add some pictures later.

After a lush weekend staying in the 5* Sofitel in Hanoi, I'm in beautiful Hoi An with my family. At the Sofitel I swam in the pool, swanned around, used their gym, swanned around some more, and drank a lot of gin and tonics, like I deserved to be there or something. Rad.

Hoi An is really pretty, and quieter than Hanoi. The countryside is beautiful and peaceful, with cows, I like cows. Our hotel is lush, it's kind of stone-clad and all that, clean. The pool is freezing, I like freezing swimming pools because it makes me feel like I'm in the SAS when I swim in them. Same with running in hail storms.

The centre of Hoi An is rammed full of tailor shops and people trying to sell you stuff, which is fine when you want something tailored but after that becomes very annoying. I want to run through doing the punchy-dance to make them leave me alone. After that ordeal I had to go on a long walk. I tried and failed to find the beach, but instead wandered across some rice paddies where there were no people: deceptively mulchy yet fulfilling. Then I sat on the ground next to a quiet road and read Stephen Fry's autobiography and drank wine from the bottle. There was a cow and a dog. I prefer doing that when I'm on holiday. In fact, I can't imagine anyone comes on holiday to get hassled by touts, or buy tacky bracelets, or overpriced bottles of Coke. Yet when a place becomes touristy and developed that's precisely what happens - it becomes less like the sort of place you'd want to visit. My parents seem to think my repulsion from having tat rammed in my face is illogical though, so whatever.

Oh but I'm getting boots made, boots with dragons on, DRAGON BOOTS, BOOTS FOR FIGHTING DRAGONS, BOOTS WITH SPECIAL DRAGON POWERS LIKE FLYING AND FIRE AND STUFF. I shall report back tomorrow on the quality of the fit and the intensity of the dragons.

I've realised I'm only writing so much to put off going to bed, so I shall stop babbling now. But Josh has such snuffly breath! A snuffler like I have never heard. Perhaps I'll sleep by the pool, with the mosquitos for company. They don't have snuffly breath.

My Mummy and Daddy and Josh are in Hanoi! It's so good. I am always so busy that I don't think about home much, but seeing them makes me realise I missed them massively. They are just the same, but Josh looks old. Also, it feels weird showing them how to do stuff, when my whole life they have been the knowledgable ones, teaching me. They also brought me cider, absolutely immense.

Sweaty pt. III

I just did the half marathon in about 2:15 - not so fast but I am very pleased, also I didn't come last, got a massive cheer when I was running up to the finish line which made me feel good*. Now on a bit of a high, and walking like a cowboy.

*Not sure if this is akin to the time I walked the whole egg and spoon race in primary school, didn't drop the egg once but took about 10 minutes over it, got a massive cheer when I finished only because everyone was pleased that the fat girl was finally off the course and they could start the next race.

Same same, but different

On Thursday morning, I went with my friend Dung to his university, where he studies English. I'm not sure why I wanted to go; it was kind of interesting but predominately as boring as you'd imagine 3 hours of basic English grammar to be, and included a period where the teacher was like "Now everyone must use this opportunity to talk to a native English speaker! Come on everyone, don't be shy!" which was really awkward, because I don't like being the centre of attention. But the upshot is that it got me thinking about how basically Vietnam and England are exactly the same (except for the ways in which they are really different).

On the break halfway through the class, a group of us went and sat outside by some tables under some trees, and it was just like sitting outside the Buttery at uni between lectures - drinking tea, the boys smoking, taking the piss out of the girls, talking about nothing, putting off having to go back and work.

It's the same with the kids I teach. Before you come here, you read about the country, and so come with all these preconceptions - Vietnamese kids are this certain way, they're good at this, they're bad at this, they're unlike European kids for these reasons. But actually, they're far more similar than they are different. Seven year olds are really cute and like singing songs. Thirteen year old girls hate thirteen year old boys. Every class has the clever one, the joker, the cool one, the quiet one. It's the same in Vietnam, the same in England, the same when I taught Italians and Spaniards and Turks. I also taught two Uzbekis - it's hard to generalise because there was only two of them, but I'd bet that people in Uzbekistan are largely the same as people everywhere else.

This isn't meant to read like some profound statement on our universal brotherhood or any wank like that. It's just a thing that's true, and I like it. It makes relationships with people a lot easier, because once you get past the initial we-look-really-different, I-don't-understand-what-you're-saying, you can just behave like you would with anyone else. Maybe that's obvious, maybe I'm a massive xenophobe, but it's taken me a couple of months to work out.

Tomorrow I have to run this half marathon. I'm really nervous, because even though I've trained loads, I'm still really slow. Coming dead last would be quite humiliating. Actually, fuck it - if I can run 13 miles, I'm better than most people.

This morning I saw a guy with 6 ducks hanging from the handlebars of his motorbike. I assumed they'd be dead, but they were definitely alive and sticking their heads up to look at the traffic (although a lot more placid than I would've been in their situation).

Tốt quá

Sitting in my underwear in my personal rooftop garden, just been playing with my punchbag, views over Hanoi, 26 degrees and really sunny.

Hope you're enjoying the snow. Remember to wrap up warm.

:)

I will be the next Rocky

Just had a very nice evening eating ice cream on a bench next to Hoan Kiem Lake, trying to spot the turtle that lives in there. It was quite romantic. The ice cream was potato flavour.

We moved house today, so I expect all my problems in life to henceforth be resolved. Good things about the new house: the bathroom floor isn't rotting, there's a punchbag on the roof, and we've ditched the two irritating bossy housemates. Bad things: I can currently hear EVERY WORD of Dave's phone conversation upstairs, including the part when he was talking about me. I listened carefully but it was all positive, so he may live.

I also feel I should point out that my last post was intended not as an outpouring of hatred, but as a reflection on the idiosyncrasies that have made me fall in love with Hanoi. If I wanted to live somewhere that made perfect sense to me, I would've stayed in England, and be bored to shit.

A happy rant.

Hanoi doesn't make any sense. I don't understand the people, I don't understand what they say to me in Vietnamese and why they don't understand my Vietnamese. I don't understand why my motorbike is always parked in the wrong place, regardless of where I park it. I don't understand why people in shops think it's acceptable to either charge me extortionate prices, or refuse to serve me altogether. I don't understand how men make a living when all they do is lounge on the pavement all day. I don't understand why they hide beef inside tofu. I don't understand why everyone wears pajamas on the street. I don't understand why motorbike exhaust pipes are so hot yet so exposed. I don't understand why it's necessary to be so fucking noisy all the time. I don't understand why I've been robbed twice but my housemates not at all, or why it's taken the police two weeks to conclude that the thief probably came in through the unlocked front door. I don't understand the appeal of eating dog, pig's uterus, horse, or fermented prawns. I don't understand why my Vietnamese friends don't get my jokes, when I am so funny. I don't understand why the music is so, so bad. I don't understand why it smells of raw sewage outside my front door. I don't understand what's so funny about the word 'cool'. I don't understand why living here seems to be getting harder, rather than easier, the longer I stay.

I quite like it here though.

Getting out of Hanoi pt. III

More adventuring out of Hanoi this weekend. My Sunday class was cancelled, meaning a generous whole two days off, which had to be taken advantage of. On Saturday we got a bus down to a town called Ninh Binh about three hours away from Hanoi. Ninh Binh is actually hella ugly, so we got a 20-minute taxi straight to the smaller village and our main goal, Tam Coc. Tam Coc translates as Eight Caves. I assume there are eight caves there, although I only saw evidence of three. There's a river running past, and these limestone karsts sticking out of the water. You can hire a little canoe to go down the river and back, which goes through three caves, and takes about 1.5 hours. The lady rows down the river using her feet, impressive skills.


The first night we got there just before dark, so post-roast-goat dinner (local speciality) we went for a walk by the river, past some of the karsts and some little houses. Then we walked through the town, but it was tiny and almost completely dead, so we ended up watching the Arsenal-Spurs match on what appeared to be the only TV in the town. I think that's still cultural, just a different culture.


The next morning we got up super-early to get a boat ride. We managed to avoid the other tourists, and the people who go to sell hawk bananas and embroided tea towels to the tourists; the only people on the river were a few women in the traditional Vietnamese hats scooping out weeds with a net, and some men in the water who might have been fishing. It was totally blissed out and quiet and relaxing and awesome, the perfect antidote to Hanoi and its relentless motorbike horns.

After the boat ride we had (goat for) breakfast, and then tried to find some motorbikes to rent. This was no easy task, but thanks to my superior Vietnamese communication skills (...) we eventually hired three little banged-up mopeds for way more than they were worth. We drove around for a couple of hours, around the karsts and little unmade roads, past goats and puppies and buffalo. It was more like driving bikes in Pai in Thailand, where your main fear is the quality of the dirt track and whether you will get charged by a buffalo, rather than fear of the jumped-up teenage boys speeding to impress their girlfriends that you get in Hanoi.

After a couple of hours we ran out of things to see, and my friend's bike broke down, so we called it a day. Our bus home wasn't for a couple of hours, so we ended up sitting around chatting for a few hours, and I read some of my book. It was good to do nothing much for a while, as I feel like I am constantly busy at the moment. My book has been on the go since April and progress is slow. In all honesty, the last week or so has been pretty crappy, and a weekend away doing nothing was much needed.

me in the middle

Saturday was National Teacher's Day. Three of my classes got cancelled, and I got loads of presents, awesome. My haul: five bunches of flowers, a large box of yoghurt, two scarves, a 'Prada' handbag (now deceased), two bottles of wine, two boxes of chocolate and, slightly oddly, a box of glass tumblers.

A pictoral guide through my adventures

I've bought a strange kind of device for uploading pictures, so now my blog will be in glorious technicolor - you lucky, lucky bastards.

this pretty incredible-looking templey thing is right by my house but inexplicably invisible unless you're actually looking for it. i'm still not sure whether it really exists.

roadside draughts

this photo summarises the daily activity of the majority of Vietnamese: woman working really hard, men sitting around being lazy

gourmet dining

impractical method of transport

fermenting rice + rice vodka

Yesterday I went on a school trip with some students from one of my schools. It wasn't necessarily how I would choose to spend a Saturday, especially since they aren't even my students. But it was good to get out of Hanoi, and I was plied with food all day, so I can't really complain. Maybe I will attempt a commentary on these pictures but I can't really be bothered.

We went to a nature park in a province called Ba Vi, about 1.5 hours out of Hanoi. This province produces loads of the milk you get in Hanoi, and so we got given loads of fresh milk and yoghurt. It was pretty tasty. (I guess that answers the question of whether I'm still a vegan or not.)

For a nature park, it wasn't very natural. They had bears in cages, which made me feel very sad and angry for a bit, until I got distracted and wandered off. The best animal of the day was the deer. Frustratingly, no one will tell me the Vietnamese word for deer, a minor yet irritating obstacle in my ongoing quest to know everything. Someone said it was 'con de' which I already knew means goat. Then for a while I was satisfied in thinking it was 'con gai', but my Vietnamese friend said that means goat as well. I asked him what the word for deer was, and he said there wasn't one. Why have two words for goat but none for deer? What kind of language is this? I'm getting quite angry now so I'll move on.

day con la gi?!

I have never been a fan of monkeys. In fact monkeys are at the very bottom of the list of fluffy things I like.* I was initially excited to see them at this park, since there were loads of them running around free-range stylee. But my attitude quickly turned from excitement, through boredom, to fear and to rage, and then back to boredom. I am still not a fan of monkeys.

*This list is a hypothetical one. I promise that I have never sat down and written a list of fluffy things I like.

irritating a monkey with my camera

monkey attack!!

My enthusiasm for commentary has just run out, so here are some more photos:

before

after

a failed attempt to disguise my hideous ogre-osity

post-sticky-rice-binge hammock-nap, hell yeah. woke up an hour later to some free fresh papaya, double hell yeah.

this kid at the front ended up crying because he was on a team with weedy girls who don't know how to pull

These photos are from last night, which as usual mainly involved beer and motorbikes (not that I'm complaining). I love the expression of complete over-excitement in the second one:

Lastly, I would like to say hello to the poor hapless fools who stumbled across my blog from India, Iran and Columbia. I recommend more specific search queries. This is no place for you.

Stripping and shredded hands

Fings what did happen lately:

(1) Last night a bar was playing O Brother Where Are Thou as part of a series of moustache-related films in aid of Movember. What a film, what a soundtrack.




(2) I had to have a health check this morning, for my work permit, for my visa. It was lengthy and occasionally traumatic. The first check involved being stripped completely topless, shoved against a wall, and having my arm twisted back by an doctor shouting angrily in Vietnamese, in a completely open and busy room. I also had to wander around the hospital for an extended period carrying a vial of my blood and a vial of my friend Jason's blood. It was AIDStastic. The hospital had a charming 'indoor-outdoor' vibe; I believe that it's called al fresco, or perhaps just unsanitary. Oh, and I wasn't allowed to eat any breakfast. Anyone who knows me knows that a hypoglycemic Rej is friend to no one.

(3) I think my class this afternoon was a massive improvement on the ones that have gone before. The kids in this class are about 13 years old, but some of them don't know much English at all, and the textbook I'm supposed to be teaching them from is ridunculously hard. As in, they are still not properly forming the present simple (e.g. "he has..."), and the book is asking them to analyse literary devices in Shakespeare and write formal letters to the UN. I listened to the CD that goes with the book and the first track was fucking Chaucer. But I've been trying to break it down loads, so we'll do a whole double lesson on one exercise, and I've been making worksheets with sub-tasks, also with pretty pictures. I like making worksheets. I think it's helping, because they're getting through the work now, and some of the kids who always messed around before are producing really good work - I guess they just zoned out when they didn't know what was going on, but now they think they can actually do it, they want to try.
Ok teacher chat/brag over now.

this is not me

(4) This evening my friend took me to an indoor climbing wall in some guy's house, it was so much fun. It is just in a little room on the top floor, and not very high - maybe 8 feet - but that was definitely adequate for my current level of nodule-grabbing. All the other people there were super-skillful and muscular and swinging around all over the place, and I felt like I was getting in the way by just going up and down, but my friend Jesse was teaching me the techniques, and everyone else was giving me tips as well, and when I could do a little bit I felt quite strong. While I was recovering, I could listen to reggae and watch men use their muscles, so it was very enjoyable. My hands are in bits now though, I need to get me some calluses.

this would be more accurate

I think my lesson tomorrow afternoon is cancelled, so I might have time to find a new camera cable, and then you can enjoy an enriched blog-reading experience once again.

pay me attention

Why do I have 1,326 page views but only 10 comments?!*
GIVE ME LOVE!



*N.B. it is possible that 1,316 of the page views were me checking to see whether I had any comments yet.

Last night we went to a Futureshorts film festival, where they screen lots of arty-type short films, showing the same films in cities all over the world. It was wicked. It was on the top floor of a former hotel/brothel, which from the street looked pretty abandoned, but we went up about 8 flights of stairs and there's an artists' space, and they had two rooms with the films projected onto the wall. There was also a balcony with a beautiful view over the city and the lake, but everywhere had that cool scummy abandoned vibe. So we sat on plastic stools and drank beer and ate free bananas, and watched these awesome films.

The first one we saw was some trippy animation with elephants merging into Superman merging into genitals merging into I don't know what. There was one about anarchists in Stockholm/a love story/a lady going insane in prison. Another good one was about the life of a plastic bag, narrated by the plastic bag. It was much better than it sounds. He thinks the woman who uses him is his true love, but she throws him away and he ends up on the rubbish heap, and he goes on a quest to find her, carried along by the wind. I think the time scale was supposed to be very long, because it would take a plastic bag a long time to travel around the world, and there are no people left. At the end he goes to the 'Vortex' which is that place somewhere in the Pacific Ocean where there is a huge area covered in rubbish, just floating on the sea, that is going to be there for millions of years because it's not going to rot. The film was funny because of the plastic bag's commentary ("But I am strong, resourceful, and intelligent, and I will persevere"), and it was really beautifully shot, with the plastic bag being buffeted around by the wind, and in fields with horses, and when he goes out to sea and there are jellyfish all around. It also made me quite sad because it's about the longevity of our rubbish: it's going to be floating around the world for millions of years, even after all the people are gone, skanky plastic bags in beautiful green trees and in the ocean.

After the interval they showed three Vietnamese films, which I really wanted to like so I could be all local and cultural rah rah, but they were just shit, really really bad. Although there was a puppet sex scene to rival Team America's.

After the film festival finished we motorbiked around for a bit, and then went to the wedding party of someone Luke plays football with or something. It was next to a pool and there was an open bar, immense. I met lots of interesting new people and got very overexcited practising my Vietnamese. I also liked the bridal moped, replete with bouquets.

Today I had to work on a Sunday, boo. Because it's a new class in a new place, my company pays for a taxi to take me there - oh how thoughtful, how helpful - but in their characteristically totally shambolic style, it was completely unhelpful. The taxi driver didn't know where to go, and when we got to the street he pointed me at a building and said that was the place. I went in and the security guard asked where I was going, and I told him I didn't know, but that my friend would be here soon and she would know. So the security guard and I sat in front of the school for about 20 minutes, drinking green tea and having a 'conversation' which mainly consisted of me saying something in Vietnamese, and him not understanding, and then him saying something in Vietnamese, and me not understanding. I did ascertain that his name was Sen, and he was 40 years old. He was nice. But when it got to 2 o'clock and there was still no sign of any students or anyone I knew, I rang my coordinator and she was like, "Yeah I can see you, you're in the wrong building". I hope Sen didn't mind having to unnecessarily look after a lost and incoherent foreigner for 20 minutes. I enjoyed the company and the tea and practising my Vietnamese.

The adventure continues.

Già đển mối

Another of my favourite things about Hanoi is the old men on bicycles wearing berets, cycling leisurely down the middle of the road, apparently unconcerned by the mania around them. It's like Hanoi's grown up around them, and they haven't really noticed. It makes me imagine what it was like here 50 years ago, without the motorbikes and tower blocks and noise and supermarkets and pollution and foreigners, just old men smoking pipes in winding streets. According to Wikpedia, "at the beginning of the 20th century the city consisted of only about 36 streets, most of which are now part of the old quarter" which pretty much blows my mind.

It kind of shows the dichotomy in Hanoi's character: on the one hand, it's this hectic city with a booming economy, 6.5 million residents and almost as many motorbikes; but at the same time, it still has this old-worldy charm, with crumbling buildings, smelly meat markets, men playing draughts in the street, and tiny alleyways that meander but never seem to lead anywhere. It's like Hanoi hasn't quite caught up with the city it wants to be, or something.

Anyway I reckon it's rad.

Spotted: hysterical shopkeeper lady beating a rat with a metal pole.

Best thing on the back of a motorbike on my way to work this morning: three sacks o' bees.

Horses and fat aunts

The last post was a bit of a diversion, but should not be taken to mean that I am getting bored of noodles/children/motorbikes, only writing about them. Now I will go back to writing about Hanoi.

I just had the most awesome run through some of the countryside on the outskirts of Hanoi. I've been running with this group called the Red River Runners, and so they know some of the more picturesque routes and I can follow them all over (even though they're all faster than me).

We start from a big ugly expat community called Ciputra (bleh), and then go along the motorway for a bit (bleh), but after that we go through some little windy back streets with children playing and getting very excited when we run past. You have to jump over big piles of bricks and occasionally the aforementioned children.

a bit like this

Then we go past some farms, where there are actually green things and fresh air and no motorbike horns. Then today, four of us went down to a 'beach' on the banks of the river. It was starting to get dusky at this point, so imagine big pink skies and orange water. It actually felt a bit like Witterings, except usually at Witterings there are not ladies in wedding dresses having their photos taken. (N.B. wedding photos here are definitely a bigger deal than actual weddings.) We were going to go back the way we came, but ended up exploring across the sand dunes to find a different route - there were randomly little ponies tied up in the middle of nowhere. Maybe you can ride them, that would be cool. There were also some cows; don't know if you can ride them, I would like to try though.

this is the picture that came up on Google Images when I tried to find a picture of the Red River...it is the right river I think.

Still going along the banks of the river, we went through this pottery village. Basically there are just loads of pots. It's more exciting than B+Q though because this ramshackle little village has grown up on the banks of the river to sell the pots, so more windy unmade streets and dogs and women barbecuing bun cha outside their house.

this is pork being barbecued for bun cha, a kind of grilled pork noodle soup thing

Shortly after the pottery village is the graveyard. On one side are a few big tombs. This is where bodies are buried right after they die; they're here for about three years, before being exhumed. The bones are cleaned, and then re-buried in the graveyard on the other side. Some important religious person has to arrange the bones in the right way, according to the alignment of the stars and planets at that time. Adele, who I was running with, was telling me her cook had to go to the exhumation ceremony thing of her aunt, except her aunt had had to be buried in the primary graveyard for five years instead of three, because she was so fat and took longer to rot.

secondary graveyard is a bit like this

After the graveyard is the flower market, and then a main road, along the banks of West Lake, and back into Ciputra where we go for beer, or in my case about 20 pints of water. I felt like Elsa when she gets back from a run, and slurps all the water from her bowl like a maniac. In total today I ran about 17.5km, which my legs will now attest is a pretty long way, although it didn't feel like it at the time because we were exploring all over and there was so much to see. Whether or not I will still be able to walk when I get up from this computer is yet to be seen.


I hope this has been an adequately Hanoi-centred post, as requested. Now I have to go and retrieve my motorbike from the other end of the city...damn....

Rude boy for life

My blogging has lost momentum somewhat - a combination of no photos, more routine days, and a lack of free time mean that it rarely appeals. I have a laptop now, an old Mac my landlord found me - definitely better than nothing but pretty crap anyway. He told me the password was brucelee, and it's not that at all, which seems a really strange thing to make up.

Instead of blogging about Hanoi - motorbikes, children, beer, noodles - I now wish to write about SONISPHERE and more specifically SKINDRED and more specifically still HOW GOOD THEY ARE. Maybe this doesn't interest everyone but whatever, it interests me and you don't have to be here.

When else has Welsh reggae-metal made Josh and me run from one end of a huge festival to the other? In fact, when else has Josh run anywhere? This feat of athleticism is a testament to the awesomeness of Skindred.

It is probably best to let Skindred themselves show how good they are:







Ok this laptop doesn't have Flash so I'm not entirely sure which videos I've just posted and whether they actually work. But hopefully at least one will...enjoy.

Snow day

It is obviously not an actual snow day as it currently 28 degrees in Hanoi. But I turned up at the school I was supposed to be teaching at this afternoon and there were no screaming children in the playground - SCHOOL IS CANCELLED. Now I can play instead of work. No sledding unfortunately but I might do some yoga - is that equivalent? I also plan on a nap and maybe to go bowling this evening: clearly living large.

I went for a wander up my street and took lots of photos to put on my blog, but when I got home I realised that my camera cable was in my laptop case, and my laptop case got stolen from my bedroom, along with my laptop, so no photos for a while. Instead I will add variety using this:



Work is still going well, even though sometimes I get very frustrated when I can't get 25 7-year-olds to be quiet. Literally, they do not shut up for longer than 10 seconds, whatever I do. I thought I liked children but now I'm not so sure. My classes with older kids are more enjoyable because I can actually teach them some English. I had a really good new class last night, there was only 5 of them and they were really clever, we had good chats. On Sunday morning I have to give a presentation to a bunch of people about a new course my company's starting. I am a bit nervous but my friend at work said no one will be listening to me anyway, only the Vietnamese translation of what I say.

New house is also ok. The street is cool, I have fairy lights in my room, and I like being able to cook. Housemates are occasionally annoyingly anal and mature. (Actually I don't know if any of them read this... if you are then I'm only talking about the other ones...) I want to buy a kitten but they won't let me, and I've been told off for other trivial stuff too....I didn't move here to be told what to do and it's pissing me off, people's shitty irrelevant adult concerns which are rarely justified. Ok enough ranting on the blog. But it makes me miss 97 Girton Road aka Manrock Cottage with the booze fridge and the Guitar Hero and the broken shisha pipe and writing anti-Greek propaganda on Will's door.

Now I have to go because I am training for a half marathon and so must do whatever Hal Higdon says.

The wheels on the bus go round and round!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I apologise to anyone who came across the extremely grumpy post I wrote earlier. No one is in the best mood at 8am on Monday morning, I shouldn't have broadcast my rubbish mood over the internet.

The grumpiness it contained related to things either inconsequential or now solved (ish), so I deleted it.

Here are some good things:
I saw a goat sitting on the intersection of a really busy road in the middle of Hanoi.
At dinner we got DIY spring rolls - I shall henceforth be awarding a prize for the most creative thing wrapped into rice paper. No prizes for wraping up poo; that's immature.
My housemate Dave appears to be some sort of negotiation god. More details if and when the negotiations actually pay off.
I did a 5k time trial at the weekend and ran 25:49, maybe that doesn't mean much to some people, but it's fast for me and I was happy.
I ran a long way this evening and now I have jelly legs and endorphins in my blood.
I live in Hanoi.

Not dead

Just to let all my worried readers (i.e. my parents) know that I'm not dead, but have moved house and we don't have internet there yet. Loi says will we have it by this evening, but Loi says a lot of things.

I'm currently on a blender-buying mission in a fish-head and stolen-electronics sort of market (soon all the dragon fruit smoothies shall be ours), and I got a text from my boss saying I had to check my email urgently. So I found this internet cafe full of teenage boys playing World Of Warcraft - it's just like being at home - and the 'urgent' email was a re-forward of something I got last Friday. Thanks for that.

As well as a mint green blender, I've bought a bedside lamp shaped like a pig, and fairy lights. New houses are fun. I almost bought a kitten this morning from someone next to me on the motorway, but I couldn't work out how to carry it home on my bike.

Edit: just noticed that the two girls next to me are literally searching "Emo Boys" on Google Images.

Tôi yêu Hà Nội, Hà Nội yêu tôi

I've quit my old job, woohoo. Apparently this is a justification for people who I thought were my friends to be angry with me now - because they weren't my first priority when I made a career choice? I don't know. But whatever, I'm obviously better off without the old job and without the 'friend'. Two girls from my new job, who cutely refer to themselves as 'double-Linh', took me out for sweetie-yoghurt-tapioca-fruit-drink-things and I decided that my initial negative vibes about this new job have done a U-turn. It's all good. Maybe it's just because sweetie-yoghurt-things would make me feel positive about anything.

akin to this

Other good things have happened. I got in yesterday evening in a strop (a failed run and the Hanoian excessive use of horns) and settled in to watch The Hangover and avoid all things Vietnam. Then I got a text from Thoa inviting me into town with her friends, so I reluctantly got out of my pajamas and went out.

It was such a fun night because everybody was out celebrating the 1000th birthday of Hanoi, which is officially tomorrow. We wandered around for a bit, and then sat on a step eating ice cream and watching everything go by. Everyone was in high spirits and running around doing conga lines, and there was shitty patriotic Vietnamese music blaring out, and about every other person was wearing an "I Heart Hanoi" t-shirt.

the girl in the middle is Thoa's best friend who is now going to stay in Hanoi and not move to Saigon; this makes me happy because it makes Thoa happy

So yeah, three cheers for rubbish nights that turn into awesome nights.

modelling the ubiquitous I Heart Hanoi t-shirts - i totally bought one

Today I massively enjoyed my day off - watched a film (third time lucky at watching The Hangover without falling asleep/going out), went for a long sweaty run, sat by a lake planning some lessons, mooched, wandered, ate some dinner at my favourite macrobiotic vegetarian restaurant, currently mooching a bit more, maybe go to a party later. Free time is awesome, but always better when there's not much of it.