Yeah i know I’m crap. Sorry. It’s just I have a journal, emails to write and letters to write. I get sick of talking about myself. I also have this whole teaching thing going on and getting to know the place and a million other things.

Today was a nice restful day. I had only one lesson, at 12:15 so I slept in til 8:30 (!!) and then pottered around. I’m growing to really like our room, when I first saw it I felt like crying. It has to (quite large) twin beds with red flowery blankets. All the furniture is dark brown and shiny and there is a wardrobe, a dresser (with stool), a bedside table, a tv cabinet and a small glass topped table. It has a high ceiling and large windows, the curtains of which take a large tug to convince to close. The floor is tiled. On the column aobe my bed I have stuck some pictures from home including a picture of my bedroom which Hannah K (My roommate) thinks is weird. Then there is the kitchen. Part of the main room it came with two vases, a tea set for midgets, a water jug, three sleazy poters of Vietnamese women and 3 condoms in a packet. I really don’t want to know what our room was being used for. There is also a tiny round card table and two chairs. Oh and it was covered in dust but we have cleaned it. The bathroom has a shower head but no cubilce so everything gets wet, including the toilet paper unless you move it. There is also and electrical plug dangerously exposed and only enough hot water for one three minute shower every few hours.

This afternoon (after teaching) I was sitting at the precarious card table reading The Intelligent Tourist (I can but try, right?), listening to Missy Higgins and drinking a cup of tea when there was a sound like a sqwarking bird. At home from time to time a bird makes its way into the conservatory and has to be let out. I jumped up onlt to discover that it was our doorbell. Upon opening the door I discovered three middle aged Vietnamese men, one of who looked to be the hotel owener (I know it is a horrible thing to say but it is hard to tell people apart here). Slightly concerned I made a suitably concerned face at him and he gestured towards the phone. So they came in and started fiddling around with varius cords. Since they were there I pointed out that the tv was also tres dodgy (it’s amazing what you don’t need wors to convey) and he said it would be fixed tomorrow, I think. (Which would be funfun because the other girls’ tv works and it had ABC Asia Pacific.

Anyway. Teaching went quite well today. I had the CO3s. last time I had them they were with the CO1s. Today they were much better. I taught them the word survey (hooray!) and then got the to do one either about football or food. Because I know so much about soocer. So they asked each other the questions I wrote on the board and then reported back to the class. There were about 19 boys and 1 girl. Boys are the same the world over I think. Despite the fact some of them are 20+ it really is like high school. I’m sure they were saying dirty words in Vietnamese today. But it’s ok, I just laugh along. I think they like me but taht’s probably because I let them read english football magazines when they finished early. Ahhh the joys of bribery and corruption. Several of hthem are actually quite cute and the naughtiets one said hi to me today when I was collecting my bike and I almost blushed. Oh dear.

I rode into town (quite an achievement in the crezy traffic) and called my dad. Must remember never to buy phonecard from post office. Very expensive. Nice to talk to him though and i was proud that I didn’t feel homesick. Big night tonight, Gappers in from outskirts of Hanoi and water puppets at 8. Next week off because of exams so we’re probably going away to a place called Ninh Binh (at least partly because it’s a cool name and it’s near Tam coc :P) for 5 daysish.

I am happy today.

I wrote this weeks a go and then got angry because it didn’t post… that would be because I pressed “save” not “publish”. I am an idiot.

Yeah i know I’m crap. Sorry. It’s just I have a journal, emails to write and letters to write. I get sick of talking about myself. I also have this whole teaching thing going on and getting to know the place and a million other things.

Ok look, I’m sorry. It’s true that my intention was to actually write in this blog about the exciting, getting here stuff but as a famous person once said life is what happens when you’re making other plans. Turns out I like writing emails more than blog entries, more likely to get feedback :P. Also turns out that computers are dodgy and won’t let me onto wordpress (and it also appears I keep forgetting my password). So you’ve missed that bit. I sent emails to pretty much anyone reading this anyway. 

So let’s skip forward. My new favourite game appears to be “Getting lost in the old Quarter of Hanoi” pick up a lonely planet guide and you can play along. It should come as no surprise to those who know me that I’m rather good at this game. I just tend to get distracted and miss road signs. then i have to get out the trusty LPG and consult it and do the well known “ok still have no idea where I am I’ll just keep walking this way” move. Other favourites include the “I don’t want to drive in your dratted cyclo/motorbike or eat in your cafe” determined shake of head and the “try not to laugh at other westerners carrying the same LPG” serious face. This afternoon I ended up in a whole lot of streets called “hang”. That’s right, whip out the LPG and play at home folks! One of these was called “Hang manh” which being the western neocolonialist I am i shortened to “hangman” and almost got run over by a motorbike while laughing. 

What’s the joke you may well ask. Well it turns out that as a teacher of english in Vietnam you play a lot of hangman. I played many a game today. No one mentions that in the blurb do they? My basic role as an english teacher is to work on pronunciation. My kids (as I have been told I must call them:P) have pretty good grammer/vocab (apart from the dreaded Co1+Co3, but less said about them the better) but they have pretty heavy accents. Working on pronunciation sounds pretty easy, right? You could just drill words right? Well not when two thirds of the class refuses to repeat and the rest aren’t even listening. Or you could do conversation, right? If you talk individually to people the chances are the rest of the class will just sit and yak, in Vietnamese, which really isn’t the point. If you get people to go in groups they will basically sit and talk in Vietnamese and giggle at you when you walk past. A good technique is group work and then presentation to the class but then the problem of getting everyone to shut up and listen remains. So that is where hangman comes in. It is a good way to get people to talk to you and not amongst themselves. I have run out of words though! There is an art to finding ones hard enough to keep things going but not too hard. This is making it sound horrible. It is fine really. This morning I taught my class what a puppet was, quite a feat I thought and this afternoon i taught the word volunteer (try and explain it, go on!). 

In other news… well there is so much to talk about it. So many things are different here. I heart motorbike taxis. I did get lost on one before. The driver took me to the ANZ bank via the uni (in the completely opposite direction). But it was cool because we had already agreed on a price so i got an extra long ride for nothing. I also like riding my bike, everyone thinks we’re mad. Westeners= money, bike= poor. They get rather confused. also I do look like a complete idiot as I’m about the only person (apart from Hannah (my roommate)) wearing a helmet and I’m basically uncoordinated. Fun times in Hanoi. 

I have been feeling homesick but then I remind myself how bored I was at home and that it will pass but I have to stick it out (ok that phrase is tres dumb but it’s basically what I mean).  

Nothing much has been happening in the last few days. I’ve been a bit distracted from going away with catching up with friends. Keep seeing people I’ve already said the big goodbye to which is awkward. I continue to be very bad at goodbyes the script is generally as follows: 

Them: Goodbye have a great time, I know it will be such a great experience 

Me: Ah, yeah I hope so. Thanks. Have a great year at [Uni/School/Work] 

Awkward silence, sometimes awkward hug, followed by strange silence. 

Me: Bye then 

I think I need to work on my technique. 

Alice rang me yesterday which was supercool. Talking to her made me realise how much I miss all the THIMUN people. I have been forced to show several lots of people my photos of Europe which is bad when I can’t really remember what everything is. Example: So here’s a big and probably old church/cathedral in Venice. Happily I am taking a Sheraton shoeshine sponge and a Hilton pen and sewing kit to Vietnam. People keep asking what my favourite thing was and I simply cannot think of what that was. It was all fantastic. 

So, Vietnam. Have just checked the weather in Ho Chi Minh (where I will be for at least the first five days) and it’s supposed to be 33 degrees, which really isn’t that hot apart from I haven’t been in that kind of heat since last December, with Tassie’s dodgy summer which I basically seem to have missed while in Europe. It’s more reasonable in Hanoi (where I will be living). I have been looking through the information sent to me and realising that I should have actually read it a while ago. For instance, it is suggested we write to our schools/unis before arrival, oups. Also, it gives some information about where I will be living (this is in fact quite a relief as we have separate rooms, cooking facilities and a staff member living with us - although this may have changed). I can’t seem to find information about when we’re leaving Ho Chi Minh for Hanoi or what our five day course will be like but I suppose that will become apparent soon enough. 

I have (of course) been thinking about what I will miss while I’m away. I suppose it will mostly be the kind of life I live, the whole package. The radio stations I listen to (NewsRadio, JJJ), the shows I watch on TV, the food I eat, the people I talk to. I suppose all these things can be accessed but it wont be the same. I’m also really going to miss my dogs, the can’t use MSN or the telephone. 

I have been working out which music I’m going to take. Currently it’s: Jack Johnson (On and On), The Beatles (Sgt Pepper), Cat Empire, John Lennon, Joni Mitchell (Blue), Franz Ferdinand, Missy Higgins, Good Charlotte (cringe), Death Cab For Cutie and Postal Service combination, The Whitlams, Bernard Fanning (plus other Aussie stuff), The Libertines and four mix cds. Yes, I am a music nerd. If only my computer would stop being horrible I could finish burning everything. Amusingly my father added Bing Crosby to my list of cds to burn. 

Tonight I am making dinner and Angie is coming around which will be nice (her coming around, I guarantee nothing about the food). Then I will leave here at 9ish to catch my 10:50 flight to Melbourne. I will then spend the afternoon in Melbourne with friends of the family. My flight leaves at 12:50 (the next morning). Eeek.

I just practiced packed. That is, I put all the clothes on my pre-existing “For Vietnam” list into my backpack along with “teaching supplies” and toiletries. My backpack is pretty small, because I actually would be unable to carry a big one. Packing for a long time is a very strange feeling, the idea that you wont be wearing the clothes you leave behind for months is odd. How much underwear to take is a quandry. Whether to take three debating/conference shirts another. Everything fitted in quite easily and weighed only 12 kilos, which is quite alarming really, although I will have to add a dictionary and some more teaching stuff before I go. 

The novelty of being home is wearing off. Which is good I suppose because I’m leaving so soon. I have a horrible head/face ache, which feels like someone has hit my head with a brick. My father is annoyed at me because I’ve done nothing all day. I’m a bit annoyed with myself about this, not annoyed enough to do anything though. I am going through my photos from Europe and making them look better, which feels kind of like cheating. Some of them are really cool; I’m a bit scared about going to get them printed though because it all seems rather complicated. I should be burning CDs for going away. I have a list. It’s going to take forever though because WMP wont let me burn them consecutively.

The title of this entry and in fact this blog is derived from presents I received from two of my good friends Charlotte and Kirsten. On the fourth of January our parents had a dinner party in honour of our soon departure, Kirsten for a year in Denmark, Charlotte for a year in Italy and myself for three weeks in Europe followed by six(ish) months in Vietnam. The dinner party was at Charlotte’s place and I remember arguing with my mother about wearing a blue cardigan over my new black top. To spite her I kept it zipped up for most of the night. Following the meal Kirsten, Charlotte and I went up to Charlotte’s room and exchanged gifts part of which included fortune cookies which we ate and I discovered that “a charming friendship is in the making” and “once on the dragon’s back it is hard to alight”. Both these things could be applied to my life but that is perhaps due to their vagueness more than anything else.

The mood rings came later, a gift from Kirsten and unhelpfully lacking the explanation for what each colour meant. I don’t like wearing rings, because I think they will get stuck on my finger (there is no doubt a name for such a phobia). I have made an exception for the mood ring though, out of a misguided sense of friendship coloured by The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants. I did forget to take it to Europe though, just as well really as I would probably have lost it. However I am going to take it to Vietnam and I think I will buy some fortune cookies for the plane because they are fun and I want to make a good impression. 

And so begins this blog. I’m not sure about naming the first entry after the title; it annoys me when bands do that, shows a lack of creativity.