What a weekend!

This weekend has been epic. I had so much fun when MJ came to visit (check out her blog to read about her experiences this past weekend as well!). I feel such a sense of pride surrounding Ha Tinh, and I have such a desperate stubbornness to prove to people that it is not a boring, middle-of-nowhere rural town. Or... well, to prove that it might be a boring, middle-of-nowhere town (okay, there is no denying that!), but that it is still equally enjoyable and a lovely place to live. Because it is, and I am so happy here. Despite Sasha's frequent visits to Ha Tinh, I feel like MJ was my first true "visitor" in the sense that I was introducing the concept of Central Vietnam to her. Ha Tinh might as well be Vinh, so in that regard, it is familiar to Sasha. But the pressure was on to present Ha Tinh to MJ, a Hanoi city-girl, in the best possible light.

And I think I did a pretty good job, despite the less-than-perfect weather and a few strange occurrences with flat tires and prostitutes that could have scared the faint-of-heart off. MJ took all of the weirdness like a trooper, though, but I guess the real test will be if she ever dares to return back here.

The weekend began when I went to Vinh to meet MJ and then to travel back to Ha Tinh on the bus together. What are the odds, but on the way back, I had the same creepy bus driver who looked lasciviously at me through the rear-view mirror throughout the bus-ride (my message to him would be to keep his eyes on the road and off the American girls, but hey, I barely speak Vietnamese). He wouldn't let us get off the bus without pestering me several times for my phone number. Luckily, "no" seems to be a universal word for "fuck off, buddy," so after several tries, he gave up and let us off the bus.

Judging by the clear blue skies, we decided to go for a quick jaunt to the beach, which proved to be more difficult than we had hoped. First my motorbike got a flat tire. Then when we took it to a repair shop, I realized that not only do I not speak Vietnamese, but I also know nothing about motorcycle mechanics or repairs, so I had no idea what was wrong. I personally didn't know if the tire was flat and just needed more air, or maybe the tubing had a hole that needed to be patched, but the mechanic's solution was to replace the whole tire for ~$22.

As MJ pointed out with empathy, the frustrating thing is that by that point, you're sort of stuck at their mercy. What bargaining power do I have when there are no other motorbike repair shops nearby and when I have already demonstrated that my bike is pretty much un-rideable? Thus, I had no leverage to say "No, that is far too expensive!" or to walk away, because I actually really needed it fixed, and fast. So did the whole tire need to be replaced? Who the heck knows. But the new tire has beautiful, thick, sturdy tread, so I am hoping that it takes me many miles in Vietnam, and that I have very few future run-ins with motorbike repair shops.

The man also told us it would take him about an hour to change the tire, which was so frustrating because we were on a bit of a time crunch anyway. When he saw how frustrated we were at having to wait, he offered us his motorbike to take to the beach. Despite the generosity (which is, weirdly enough from my perspective, standard Vietnamese motorbike-lending etiquette), it was a manual-transmission motorbike, and sadly, I have not crossed into that territory yet, but it definitely inspired me to learn for strange situations when I may be required to drive a manual, unanticipated.

Thus, we had to wait. While we waited, we went to find lunch, and the only restaurant that was within walking distance was one that advertised Thit Cho, or the infamous dog meat. After much gesturing and impassioned language, I think we got it across to the proprietor that we would eat just about anything BUT dog (eel is my other no-go; otherwise, I am down to try just about anything in Vietnam). We were served something that was probably pork, but who can ever tell? The lunch was strange and cost far too much money, but again- we were at their mercy and couldn't easily bargain, which is a frustrating feeling.

But FINALLY, we got to the beach. The lovely blue skies had disappeared by this time, and the sky was a dull grey. However, the real surprise occurred when we arrived, after I had explained to MJ how much I love going to a certain restaurant at the beach, chatting with the lady who runs it, and then renting a beach chair from the man on the beach who is so baffled by my consistent presence there. Little did I know that the entire beach would be DESERTED, due to the previous typhoon that hit the coast a few days ago. The beach was a total disaster, which I hadn't anticipated at all. All the beach chairs and umbrellas had been taken down, and the restaurants were all abandoned and emptied out. The beach was filled with washed-up debris and trash, which was disappointing, to say the least.

The weather was cloudy, the beach was covered in debris, but hey, it was entirely empty!

Even the restaurants had been deserted- all of the chairs, tables, and kitchen appliances had been secured elsewhere!

However, I can now say that I have swum (swam? shoot, this is the kind of English grammar that I should actually know in order to impart knowledge on my students!) in the South China Sea during a thunder and lightning storm as well as a typhoon. Nuts. The waves were ENORMOUS. I have never seen Thien Cam Beach so rough and rugged. It was amazing.

We got a bit of a work-out just trying to stay upright and afloat in the waves. It felt amazing, but I certainly missed the calm and serene Thien Cam Beach that I am used to.

After the beach we rushed back to Ha Tinh (mostly uneventfully) in time to meet a new friend of mine, Huyen, who teaches at Ha Tinh Gifted High School. She had asked me to teach one of her classes and talk with her students, so I dragged MJ along for moral support. The lesson went fine, and the students are indeed remarkably bright and gifted, so I enjoyed working with such motivated students. However, the highlight of the lesson was MJ's brilliant Lady Gaga performance, followed by my less-than-brilliant Miley Cyrus performance. The students went absolutely crazy, and I can now say that I've officially performed in Vietnam. We were a hit. 

Afterwards, we went to a cafe and then took a pre-dinner power-nap. However, upon waking up from the power-nap, we realized that neither of us was the least bit motivated to figure out dinner. We felt too lazy to even make a decision about what type of food we wanted, let alone to get ourselves there. MJ made the mistake (or best decision ever, in retrospect) to voice a seemingly impossible desire: "All I want to do right now is order in Chinese food, eat potstickers, and watch Curb Your Enthusiasm all night." For about 5 seconds after her comment, I wanted to slap her for contaminating me with such a desire. I had been fine for 2 whole months in Vietnam without thinking of potstickers- who was MJ to put those in my head and make me want them so badly?! She told me that she didn't want to suffer from the desire alone, so she decided to bring me down with her by voicing it aloud. Nice, MJ, very nice.

However, like two resourceful 22-year olds living abroad, we improvised. We went to the supermarket and looked in the frozen foods section, and lo and behold, we found frozen pot-stickers and frozen spring rolls. MJ was in charge of frying those while I steamed rice with curry powder, and morning glory with garlic and shallots. With my steaming completed fairly easily, and while MJ continued to painstakingly fry the dim sum with perfect accuracy (very few burned ones! good work, my friend!), I whipped up a dipping sauce of soy sauce, fish sauce, garlic, chili pepper, sugar, and scallions. The meal was well-executed and delicious, and if I didn't know any better, we could have been in a Chinese restaurant anywhere in America, instead of in my teeny apartment in Vietnam!!

So my room is too small to have a dining table and a real place to eat. I've gotten into the bad habit of eating in my bed when I'm here alone, only because there's nowhere else to really eat. However, having company demanded a little more formality and class. Luckily, the night-table by my bed worked just fine when paired with the two visitors' chairs next to it.

The next morning, it was raining something awful, so we ventured out for a soggy breakfast of noodles and soup, but had no motivation to follow through on any of our ambitious outdoor-adventuring plans. The weather was simply too gross.

View from the restaurant. The dirt road by my school was completely flooded, and the National Highway (seen here) even began to flood from all the rain.

Feeling cold and grumpy from the weather, I figured that the perfect activity for such a day would be massages and self-pampering. It turns out it was easier said than done. First I took MJ to the place where I had gotten a decent massage with Sasha last weekend. Unfortunately, there was a woman napping on one of the massage tables, and the other woman present said that no one else would be able to give us massages. I tried to ask where everybody else was (the store had been packed with workers and gawkers alike when I went with Sasha last weekend!), and she said that they were away. Helpful, not.

Getting even more frustrated and cold from the weather, I remembered that there was a hotel near my school that advertised a massage and sauna on the sign outside of it. What could be better than a massage besides a massage AND a sauna?!

Friends and family, if ever you come to visit me, do NOT stay here. That is, unless you want to pay for a prostitute.

We paid 150,000VND ($7.5) for the "VIP" massage. I suppose, in retrospect, the "VIP" should have been a red flag that special services were being offered to us that anyone less than very-important might not receive. At the time though, I had my eyes on the prize (a hot, steamy sauna) and was not thinking rationally, or remembering that Southeast Asia has an unfortunate notoriety for sex tourism.

However, our masseuses brought us back to private rooms that were, in reality, quite lovely. I was a little nervous to be separated from MJ, only because I was anticipating the typical Vietnamese experience of "group massages," where we could make snarky comments to one another from side-by-side tables. However, each private room had a private sauna encased in a glass shower, a bath-tub, and a massage table. First we were given towels and told to sit in the sauna. I was in there for maybe 5 or 10 minutes, and it was absolutely delicious. If I could go back to this massage place JUST for the sauna, I would. After the sauna, we were instructed to get into the bathtub where our massesuses (wearing what I could only describe as the equivalent to a "slutty nurse" Halloween costume as a uniform) bathed us. This was the first red flag. As my friends know, I am all for "traditional" and communal bathing experiences. In Morocco, I was happy to be scrubbed with what felt like a cement loofah by an old woman in order to rid myself of dead skin cells, and I did not feel uncomfortable exposing myself to her, because the whole exchange felt very business-like. However here, during this massage, there was no scrubbing of dead skin cells, or really anything that required a special skill as a washer-woman. She was simply giving me a bath. It was just plain strange.

After the bath, the massage experience became marginally more normal. Emphasis on marginally. In the Dai Bang Hotel's defense, the massage was actually quite good. I have never received such an involved massage that used so many of the masseuse's body parts (hands, elbows, feet, knees). It even involved her walking on my back while holding onto a pole fixed on the ceiling (yes, it was sort of like a pole dance, which was weird red flag #2) to crack the knots in my spine. It really was nice. But afterwards was when things started getting WEIRD.

When she finished the massage, I offered her 30,000VND for a tip. This is a standard 20% tip that I would give to any masseuse in the US. However, when I offered this to her, she started screaming at me in Vietnamese and demanding more money. Annoyed but not looking to argue, I offered her 50,000VND which would have been the equivalent of a 33% tip. Frustrating, but not the end of the world. This still prompted her to scream at me. Eventually, I offered her 100,000VND (a 66% tip), and she grumbled and accepted it. MJ went through a similar experience with her masseuse, and we were pissed at being taken advantage of.

We called the receptionist and proprietor of the massage parlor, and explained that we did not want to tip that much and wanted some of our money back from them, but they would not give it to us. She came and talked to them and left us outside (we could hear tons of arguing in Vietnamese). When they came out, the receptionist was followed by our masseuses, who were followed by five girls in silk lingerie sets.

Yes, we had entered into a brothel. We realized after that the masseuses are used to getting huge tips from the businessmen who stay in that hotel and were probably pissed off to waste an hour of their time giving massages to two American girls who didn't want to pay for the full extent of their services. Ok, so everybody left pissed off, possibly me most of all because now I have to continue my quest to find a RELIABLE and cheap place to go for a weekly massage that will not turn out to be thinly-disguised prostitution. #firstworldproblems, I know.

Our last day together in Ha Tinh proved to be much more enjoyable, and much less stressful. First, we went for a walk and I showed MJ the rice paddies near my school. The weather was less-than-perfect, but at least it wasn't a torrential downpour like it had been the day before.

We ate cu do cakes for lunch, which was quite lovely, and then took my motorbike about 20 km away to Ke Go Lake. I have to remember that 20 km, while it seems like a short distance, actually takes FOREVER when so few of the roads are paved in Vietnam. The road was filled with potholes and puddles, and it was actually quite a bumpy, painful ride. But we finally got to Ke Go Lake which is a man-made irrigation lake whose history and usage I am still a little unclear on. However, besides being a beautiful, clear lake, it is also home to some gorgeous scenery, so MJ and I were able to romp around and explore some lovely rocks and see some pretty trees.

View from the beginning of the trail. 

Apparently the little baby island in the middle is actually a man-made oasis that scientists have been studying. I would love to figure out a way to take a boat out to it!

Simultaneously, I spotted a hummingbird, a butterfly, and this waterfall. Needless to say, I freaked out a little, which MJ teased me by calling my "Pocahontas moment."

No big deal... a waterfall was just running over the trail. Hope you don't mind getting your feet wet!

Getting closer to the man-made island!

My feetsies made it into the lovely water. And can you spot my cheap Vietnamese rain poncho?

It is unclear whether swimming is allowed in the lake or not. If so, it would be so easy to swim from this bank to the little island. I will do some investigating to find out if this is possible.

So that concludes my weekend with MJ. I am tired and not wanting it to end, only because I seem to love my weekends so much more than I love my two-day work weeks. According to my dad, this is NOT indicative of hating my job, but simply indicative of hating working. Period. He told me that for the next 40 years, I can expect to dread the work week and only enjoy the weekends. This is incredibly disheartening, but also reassuring to know that my feelings about teaching are not reflective of how I actually feel about the experience, but simply how I feel about working in general. In any case, I love my weekends, and I only like working.

Oh well, such is the life of a Fulbrighter...