Jazzercise

Entry #12.  June 4, 2012, 3:56 pm.  Living Room, House, District 3, Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. 

Link:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aUky2aj5yJo

After clicking the link, you are listening to my favorite jazzercise workout song.  When I go running in the park nearby, there is always a multitude of middle-aged Vietnamese exercisers who congregate on a large center stage and perform choreographed dance-like workouts.  I hesitate to use ‘dance’, but if they can call my karaoke performance ‘singing’, then I will call their dry-heaves-set-to-music ‘dancing’.  It really is a riot, and the tune is quite catchy, right?  The joggers are often singing under their breath, myself included.  On the other side of the massive stage is a competing salsa class, which also blares its music.  So depending on my location on the paths, I am either wheezing to sha-la-la or snapping my fingers a la flamenco.  

I am obliged to address my tardiness with this latest entry.  I have fallen into such a routine of teaching, sleeping, eating, and going out at night that the time has flown by and before I'd realized it, another month had zipped by.  Further, I wasn’t convinced that anyone was really reading my blog, but I have been told that my hiatus was noticed.  I hope that I have not lost the faith of any readers.  So, I beseech you to be patient and I will strive for ~two posts per month, sometimes more and sometimes less. 

Teaching is continuing to be a source of pleasure.  Each class of mine has a timeline of approximately 10 weeks, and when a semester ends, the class will usually throw a party or want to take me out somewhere.  A great example is my Thirsty Thursday adult class that ended last week.  They were determined to squeeze some embarrassment out of me by suggesting a karaoke party.  Three days later I found myself back in front of a small, eager crowd with a microphone in my hand.  This time I was sure to warm up my voice box and suppress my inhibitions with some cold beer.  And so did my class.  We were popping bottles like the Tet Offensive was on its way.  They preferred to make it a drinking game; if the karaoke machine scored the singer below 90%, the singer must finish his beer.  In my case, this kept the waiter busy.  But most notable was the goofiest student of the class, who is also listed in my phone as “goofy student”.  He became intoxicated fast and it was his self-appointed job to start a dance party every time a popular Vietnamese song was chosen.  At one point he was so overcome with the music that he cleared a path and attempted a cartwheel, which resulted in a cleared table and an even more exasperated waiter.  It was really a fantastic night.

Recently I went to a pho (phuhhh) restaurant right across the street from my house.  I found myself wondering why so many tourists (note: look at me go, playing the high and mighty expat card….psh, tourists) were stumbling into the restaurant with Lonely Planet books in hand- I don’t usually see tourists around my neighborhood.  Then, the waiter plopped a scrapbook down in front of me and asked if I wanted to take a tour of the upstairs after I was done eating.  After browsing through the newspaper clippings, articles, and photos in the scrapbook I learned that this very restaurant was where the Vietcong planned the infamous Tet Offensive.  In fact, the restaurant is famous for its ironic dichotomy when the owner would serve American troops his tasty pho downstairs while the Vietcong would hold secret meetings directly above-- to plan the demise of those dining below.  The owner, who died only a few years ago, was a double agent of sorts and had a major impact on the war.  It’s pretty incredible that I only had to stumble across the street to find a famous war relic.  In a likewise fashion, while my roommates are stretching or exercising downstairs, I am deviously planning dessert dinners above. 

In the next few months I plan to do some more traveling, as I have saved money and put in my time for work.  I will be able to take a week or two off, when I hope to go river rafting in Laos and beach surfing in Thailand.  This is a direct request and international petition for Kyle Scott, Caitlin Martin, Jeremy Martin, Laura Martin, Phillip Disque, Stefan Fritsch, Phillip Cates, and Mackenzie Kuhn to come visit.  I really don’t think I’m asking for much by asking my friends to fly across the Pacific Ocean and drink cheap beers with me.  I figure that if we save $1.50 per beer (one bottle will cost you 10,000 dong or 50 cents), we will need to drink 1200 beers to make up the cost of a typical $1800 flight.  The $600 spent on these beers is extraneous money leftover from your free stay at J-Mart Guesthouse.  Win/win, see you all soon.

To fulfill the void in my Vietnamese life resulting from not having family nearby, I bought a fish bowl and two fish for my room.  After they died 12 hours later, I bought two more.  Then one more died, and the fourth just died this morning.  I believe these fish to be selfish and rude, although I really had no idea if they were even fish bowl-compatible = language barrier at the fish store.  So even though the first four guests at J-Mart Guesthouse died and were flushed down a toilet, I still encourage all my friends and family to come visit.

It is very hot in Saigon these months, similar to South Florida with massive albeit quick thunderstorms that temporarily cool the urban jungle.  I have a pretty ritzy poncho that I wear when I am unlucky enough to be caught in rain while I drive my motorbike, so at least my top half stays dry while my legs receive a nice wash.  Other than terrible karaoke concerts, fish flushing funerals, and soggy pants, I still can genuinely say that I love my life in Vietnam.   Talk to you again sooner rather than later.

Our courtyard, with our house at the end