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.

:)