Some strange sights to behold

Imagine that you are a rice farmer in rural Vietnam. Imagine that your contact with westerners and western notions is quite limited. Now imagine the strangest possible thing that you might see when you look up from the rice paddy that you are farming.

Is it a) the curvy western girl in exercise apparel, walking down the muddy dirt road past your rice paddy?
Is it b) the dalmatian, a fairly exotic species of dog, no less, being leash-trained?
Or is it c) a combination of those two already strange sights?

I vote C. Which is exactly what happened today.

FINALLY the weather was bearable enough to go outside for a walk. Dare I say that it was... pleasant? It was what I consider to be New England fall weather, and the perfect temperature to work up a sweat outside. I planned to do my usual walking route which takes about 40 minutes to complete. I started by heading in the direction of Cafe Nui, the infamous cafe where Pepper the dalmatian and his older sister, Cuc, live. Naturally, I got sidetracked by Cuc and her grandmother who were standing in the front yard, chopping down star-fruits from a nearby tree. I stopped and ate a star-fruit with them and then inquired as to Pepper's whereabouts. He was chained up in the back and looked quite miserable (but seemed to perk up when he saw me).

For the third or fourth time, I mentioned to Cuc (in a mixture of horrible English and horrible Vietnamese) that Pepper has way too much energy which is why he won't stop biting or jumping, and that he needs to be exercised to get out some of that feisty energy. I explained to her again (in a very hinting way, of course) that in America, people walk their dogs so that both the people and the dogs can get exercise. Then I said, a bit more directly, that I would like to take Pepper for a walk some time.

Before I knew it, Cuc and her grandfather had fashioned a make-shift leash out of a bit of chain and rope. Then, completely trusting of my intentions, they sent me out alone with Pepper, who walked with me for 2 or 3 miles. He was surprisingly easy to walk, but I guess I did not anticipate just how much of a spectacle I would be, strolling down the street with a dog on a leash.

Everybody stopped what they were doing to watch me. I guess it didn't dawn on me that Vietnam might not be the same as Larchmont Village or Acton or some other completely dog-friendly suburb where everybody is out and about with their faithful canine companions. I forget that people in Vietnam tend to think my reaction to dogs is strange. Dogs are for a vague sense of protection, but are to be avoided at all costs because they are dirty and possibly dangerous. Dogs are not to be cuddled or kissed or taken for walks on leashes. Naturally, I have broken all of these rules.

When I returned Pepper to his rightful owners, Cuc had assembled all of her neighbors to watch the spectacle of the westerner returning their dog. Most of her neighbors are elderly women who are so friendly and sweet, that it is hard to be annoyed at their gawking. While I am generally happy to be a "goodwill ambassador" in Ha Tinh if it means that I get to be a surrogate mother for a really cute dog, I wonder what kind of impression people get of America when they interact with me. No doubt do they find me peculiar, but I wonder if they think that all Americans are weird dog-loving freaks after seeing me parade through Ha Tinh with Pepper on a leash........