I think I'm getting ready for something big.

 

damn

day 3 of the new year I already broke a resolution.

To write a page in my notebook everyday. I suppose resolutions are meant to be broken. I was never the one to actually follow my resolutions nor keep them. C'est la vie, I suppose. I don't mind that it's broken.

But somedays you just forget.

The night becomes tiring.

And sleep overcomes you.

Seeing that I will still continue to write as much as I can. a page a day.  My mind hardly ever focuses, but somehow I get things done, and things are produced and they last for me. I've kept this blog since July 28th, 2006. My oh my how things have changed. How since 2006 I've grown, and how since 1987 my mind continues to absorb and understand others. Compassion for others.

But still in 2010, my mom's voice and suggestions continues to soothe me. My stomach hurt today. I called my mom to tell her, although I've already taken care of myself (sort of) by drinking 7-Up and taking medicine. But still I call to tell her. To just let her know, in case maybe she has a better remedy. Maybe the remedy is just to hear her. She tells me that she is in Boston Market, with my brother and dad. She updates me about her Las Vegas adventures, and she let's me know about her invitation to an upcoming Miss America show in Vegas with two free buffet meals. I'm excited for her. She tells my dad that I'm excited. He asks in the background when I'm coming back (as a joke that I won't be back for the two buffet meals).

I look at a photo of my mom and dad. I see that they are getting older from my last memory of them. This makes me sad, although their voices on the phone remain the same. the same as I was in college. the same as I was in middle school. the same as when they yelled at me for drawing on the walls. I liked to draw on walls. I've been a person that likes to distant myself, maybe because the distance provides a sense of closeness. The kind of closeness that can only be achieved when you miss someone.

and then green eucalyptus oil consumes me. reminding me that I'm in Vietnam. I go in the morning to eat Banh Uot but I feel like throwing up and only consume half of it. The coffee lady jokes with me and tells me that I only have to pay for what I ate. I laugh because she usually doesn't joke nor does she smile much, I suppose she's taken a liking to me. She asks me what my lanyard is for, I say it's for my keys. She asks if I bought medicine yet for my stomach and I said yes I have. She asks if this is my bicycle and I smile and say yes. Little things like this make me fall for Long Xuyen a little bit more.

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while watching Juno with an 8 year old in Vietnam

(In Vietnamese)

Kim Hoang: What's wrong with her stomach?

Me: She has a baby

Kim Hoang: What? Why? She's so young!

Me: Uhh yeah...

Kim Hoang: Is that the dad?

Me: No its the other boy that is her age

Kim Hoang: How did it happen?

Me: ... (caught between languages and not really wanting to explain sex to an 8 year old)

Kim Hoang: Did they drink alcohol?

Me: ...no...you know...they just...*make random hand gestures, clap hands together*

Kim Hoang: Oh...ok. I see.

as

of late my time has been preoccupied and getting to know people places and eateries. one thing that i absolutely love about long xuyen is the fact that almost every single eatery is a "mom & pop" shop. (i've seen mostly mom shops)

motorbikes crowding in front of food carts is Vietnam's drive thru's. they shout what they want from a few feet away. the lady in charge hears them and in a matter of minutes there is food in a bag and the motorbike goes off to where-ever they will have the meals. sometimes there are soooo many motorbikes shouting and waiting outside of the place you can just see the cart lady frantically but gracefully pouring boiling soup and rubber banding bags of noodles and veggies with crazy precision.

the food cart ladies also get to know you, and if you come often enough they will remember what you like and want. i've been quiet obsessed with the banh uoc sisters, really sweet twins who find it funny that we go up to the cart to order what we want and to pay, rather than yell across the street from the tables. here i can get bad ass drip coffee which sets me into a jittery mode for the entire day.

then there's the nuoc mia lady who gets all cheery to get my nuoc mia all the time and tells me to sit in the table across to be away from the sun. when she was gone for 5 days, i was sad. and when she came back she instantly told me where she was, as if guilty that she was away. all i could muster was "khong co nuoc mia!" (There wasn't any nuoc mia!) and made a sad face.
their livelihood is their food, and their food is their livelihood.

then there's the pomelo lady that won't gip me. who has the best and sweetest pomelos, and when they are smaller she will charge less and even yell at me to comeback when i realized that there is change.

the other day i saw a boy running through the market helping his mom/aunt carry a gigantic bucket of veggies. he had no shoes on. at first i was disgusted. because if you knew this floor, the dirt brown watery floor mixed with meat blood and fish scales, then you may share the same sentiments. but then he ran past me to get his shoes, splashing puddles, and clumsily stepping into his shoes, before running into the abyss of food stalls. i found his comfortability with the environment enduring. the familiarity of the dirt, dust, smell was something that i suddenly yearned to have. the type of familiarity that allows us to press snooze when the alarm clock rings in the morning, the same familiarity that occurs when you cuddle and you know exactly where to put your head on his/her shoulder, the instinctively that allows us to say bless you when someone sneezes, the one that let's you use an elevator without reading directions. knowing people knowing faces knowing prices knowing scents knowing it without even thinking.

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love and "ew" ing (that means "like/crush" in vietnamese) is somewhat public. exhibited by the make out park and lover's lane in long xuyen. i find it so cute, and can't help but be jealous that i don't have a motorbike lover (creepy texts don't count) to take me to this park or lane and hold me really tight as if i can't breath like most couples in these places. the men/boys hold onto their girls like they are about to run away. while the woman/girl sits still. they sit and talk and just enjoy each other.

the other day sitting in the sewing room of my ngo, we had an interesting discussion about cheating, marriage, and divorce.

"In America, are there people who grow old and are single?"

Yes there is and there are some who want a family.

Then somehow the topic got to divorce,

"Do people divorce because their husbands go off with someone else?"

Yes, sometimes, sometimes they just don't get along anymore and don't like each other so they get a divorce.

"Really? Here they don't do that much, if they don't like each other they just have to deal with it. Even if the women get abused they will stay with their husbands too. Not many people get divorces, they rely on their husbands sometimes"

That happens in America too.

oh the similarities.
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