Early Morning Reflections

Rainy Season Beach
We've traded blue and calm for big grey surf.

The beauty of having a puppy is that you get to watch the sun rise over the rice paddy as you sit on your front patio in your pjs.  In the process you discover that 90% of Vietnam (and their farm animals) has already been awake for hours.  As I stumbled out onto the patio in the relative darkness at 4:45 a.m. to let Coconut (I believe it's official) outside, I assumed that I would be enjoying a few peaceful moments bonding with nature while I impatiently waited for her to do her business.  Scantily clad and groggy, I was in no way prepared to interact with the world. Apparently "interacting" is a two way relationship which can not be controlled by one grumpy person.  At 4:45 a.m., Vietnam had already said "Good Morning."

I was greeted by a chorus of hundreds of roosters, ducks and geese coming from every direction imaginable.  Titsie, the neighborhood mammary mutt,  has some kind of bionic ears tuned in to our front door's squeaky hinge.  As soon as I let our little baby out into the wild, Titsie was on our front step in full "overbearing mother" mode...sniffing, nudging, nipping, prancing.  I forced myself to wake up enough to chase her out the gate a few times so Coconut could have some peace.

It's not just the animals though.  Work has begun on the house next door...digging, hammering, cement mixing, and brick laying.  And then there is the "Voice of  Vietnam," the government's propaganda/radio station.  Despite purporting to be a "typical" radio station with a broad selection of programming, it's difficult to imagine a radio station in the United States with the rights to install loud speakers (that  you can't turn off) in the middle of corn fields for you listening pleasure.  Yes, at the oddest times (including 5 a.m.), the speakers spring to life....broadcasting news and music to everyone in Vietnam (like it or not).  I have smiled while running through fields of rice completely alone accompanied by what sounds like Vietnamese opera music coming from all directions.  This morning it sounded like news. While I cowered behind our bikes on the patio to avoid having to rummage in the darkness for more decent clothing, I enjoyed the Vietnamese government's message of the day to its people. Naturally I had absolutely no idea what that message was.  For all I know it could have been an evacuation order of some kind.  None of the overly-alert workers next door or in the rice paddy seemed at all concerned, so I just went back to imagining that it was NPR's "Morning Edition" - kind of like having your newspaper delivered to your front door without actually having to bend down and pick it up or get your hands dirty reading it.  When you're tired you can spin it any way you want.

Here's this week's spin (no propaganda) from our TLQ (Temporary Living Quarters b/c Bri still refuses to call it home) in Vietnam:

Typhoon Megi completely missed us.  We barely even got a windy day.  The rain has been conspicuously lacking in the last week.  This is puzzling for us because we were prepared for three months of a torrential downpour.  Sadly we don't have the language skills to shoot the breeze with the neighbors about the weather.  So, we don't know if this is normal, odd or the fault of "el nino."  We do, however, know the neighbors' names, ages and whether or not they are having good or bad days. That would be the extent of our Vietnamese mastery at the moment.  I am sure they would be grateful if we could squeeze in a few more lessons.  There are only so many times you can patiently practice telling the ATPF how old you are and that you are "fine thank you."  We are continuing with our weekly language lessons where this week I learned that there are ten different ways to say "mother" in Vietnamese.  Things would be a whole lot easier if everything just went by one name.

Coconut continues to be a sweetheart.  She is still the perfect size to fit in a bicycle basket (and too small to walk very far), so she goes to the market in the basket and took her first trip to the beach on the bicycle too.  The ladies at the market like to threaten to steal her. Since I'm not sure whether or not they think she is cute or they are envisioning her as a tasty grilled treat once she puts on a few pounds, I'm a bit wary of their beckoning arms.  We have been warned to keep a close eye on her as she gets bigger because she will be a coveted meal - explaining the absence of stray dogs in Vietnam (and my aversion to unlabeled "sausage" products in the market).

We knocked off another week of  "school," as we head toward our first break.  This week's excursion took us on a Lantern Making Tour where we saw Hoi An's lantern production process and got to try our hand at making lanterns.  It was interesting to see all of the steps that go into hand making lanterns from cutting bamboo frames, to covering the finished product.  The kids got a chance to assemble frames, sniff lots of glue and cover their own lanterns in fabric.  I came away with a deeper appreciation for the professional work done by the craftspeople.  I can buy a beautiful lantern in the Ancient City for about five dollars.  I spent twenty dollars on this tour and left with something resembling a preschool project gone awry - a deformed lantern with a lame "finish" job sincerely in need of professional help.  Perhaps once I stick a light bulb in it, its radiant beauty will outshine the poor craftsmanship.

The bamboo frame

Gluing the fabric