What a relaxing weekend so far. This post will cover the events of last Friday, one of my busiest days here yet. Let's get started!
Three A.M. hit. Beep, beep, beep! Work time. As I said in the last post, I promised to wake up early in order to help my older brothers in the baking school. Rolling out of bed, I let out a loud yawn, and went over to brush my teeth, feeling tired and sore from all the fanfare of the day before. Outside my window, I noticed that all the lights in the baking school were on, the school being less than a ten second walk from my door. Grabbing just my keys, I left my room and met my brothers, hard at work.
"Okay, so what do you want me to do?" I asked, staring in all directions, looking at all the intricate processes of making fine quality bread. "Start rolling out this dough into small spheres to make different pastries" said one of the brothers. And so after a quick lesson, I was off to work. This morning there was about five of the brothers working. They all knew what they had to do, as they work off a schedule and take orders from outside businesses of what kinds of breads are needed. In one room, there were the ovens, racks, storage cupboards, refrigerators, and other storage items used to deliver the breads, while in the other (the one where I was at for the most of my time this morning) all the different types of machines, stoves, pots, pans, ingredients, work stations, etc. They worked fast, noticing the swift and controlled motions of their hands as they kneeded the bread and formed the balls of dough into all many different shapes. During my demonstration, I thought, "well it shouldn't be that hard to form a sphere with dough, look at him, he makes it look pretty easy." Well it was not.
I dusted my hands with flour and started slicing off chunks of dough, all weighing around 140 grams, and attempted to form the balls of dough. Most of the time, my efforts would form unsmooth, lopsided ovals, or I would form a decent looking ball on the top, but have it a mess at the bottom. Eventually, one of the brothers, noticing my frustration, went over and showed me how to do it, a lot more slowly this time. I got better, of course, but maybe need a few more lessons and more days of practice to perfect it. So there I was, hacking dough, rolling, and working away. When it came time to put the dough on the racks, one of the other brothers, the one running quality control for the day, took all of my dough balls and rerolled them, telling me that they were not up to their standards. Ouch, that hurt my pride a little. Oh well, I kept working and they corrected any of my creations that were not on par with their standards. I could go on about all the happenings of this morning for eternity, but I will summarize in a few lines. I was there for a long time, working from three to six in the morning. I helped create around three or four different types of breads, looking alongside my brothers for advice, and chatting to them about their work. It was amusing to see them so content with their work, joking here and there, and snatching for themselves some extras to munch on as they kept their work on. What an inspirational bunch of human beings, many of them coming from the most poor of situations in the whole area, to come here and spend their time to perfect a craft, eventually teach it to others, and them find a job so that they can support themselves and their families. We had a filling breakfast of french pastries, french bread with an egg and ham mix, and praised each other for the hard work. So after three hours of labor, I decided it was time to head back, shower, and get ready for the rest of the day.
After showering and tidying up my room, I took the time to relax in my bed for about an hour, still feeling tired from having to wake up so early. An hour later, I assembled all my paperwork and lessons for the class in the morning, which was the class for the students scoring below average on their English Literature examinations, or as they call it, the students Duy Kem (in Vietnamese, a D without any markins on it is pronounced the same way as the letter 'y' is in English). Shortly after, as I was assembling my paperwork, I got an unexpected phonecall.
"Ben, how are you doing? I miss you so much!" answers my mom, my dad listening alongside her. It had been a while since I had talked to my parents, hardly finding the time to call them myself. They kept track of me through my uncle and other family members, asking if I was okay, sleeping alright, eating alright, and everything else. Being away for so long, my mom always reminds me of how much she misses me and wants to buy a ticket to Vietnam herself to visit me. "Hehehe, don't be sad, I'll be back home in no time!" I reply. It was heartwarming to hear the voices of my parents, who, with passing day in Vietnam, I learn more and more about. Every single day, my love and understanding for them grows and I at last told them on this phone call about my own feelings about them and my life. I guess I will say it here that I grew not understanding and agreeing with them on many different things. Being born from two different cultures, we had many troubles as I grew up with agreeing on different ideas, philosophies, and methods of living. As a more mature young adult. I regard my younger self as a defiant, independant boy, wanting to things his way because he felt that he was more correct and more knowledgable about the world of America than his family, therefore allowing him to have the say in what is right and wrong. This same mindset led me to mischaracterize my parents, think of them in ways that were far off from the truth, and blindsided me from truly understanding their lives, and why they are the people that they are. Though it is true that being young can make you ignorant, I feel that I almost made the choice to be ignorant, as I didn't ask my parents of their life experiences as much as I could and perhaps should have. "What a fool you were" I sometimes think to myself, thinking back to all the times I argued and misjudged my family. But, now I know more than I ever would have thought about myself and my family, and from there the cultures that I come from, one deeply rooted in the East and one deeply rooted in the West.
We talked for about thirty minutes, my parents reminding me to stay focused and stay healthy. My dad had my little brother, Nam, print out all my blog entries for my parents to read - all forty pages. And they read them all the other night. Well, I was surprised that my dad understood my writing, as he then suggested some different writing strategies and ideas for me to think about while I am here in Vietnam. I at last told my parent's, towards the end of the call about my feelings towards them, apologizing for wronging them as a child, and really let them into my heart, allowing them to see how much I have grown up and how much I have grown to understand them. "You know Ben, me and our dad are very proud of what you have accomplished and we always believed in you, whether of not we agreed with each other" said my mom, "you telling us this now makes us both happier than ever and that is enough for us." "When you get older," my father said, "we do not want anything from you, no house, no cars, no money, because we raised you to be a successful man and have the brightest future for yourself, so that you may serve the lives of other people." Even as I write this now, I shed the same tears of compassion and love for my parents, just as I did towards the end of that call. What a feeling... Warmth, sorrow, love, humility, and everything else all during the last five minutes of that call. "Talk with me a little bit more, about anything, I just want to hear your voice for a bit more" my mom told me, and so I did, reminding them of all the activities I did in the morning and my plans for the rest of the day. After setting down the phone, I took a deep breath, drank some water, and stared off at the ceiling, using some time to reflect on what had just happened. Eight o'clock struck and I headed off for my first class.
Teaching the children has entered a phase where I feel that they are understanding much of what I am teaching, learning the grammar and vocabulary very well. The only area that I am struggling on is getting them to converse with one another in English, my main objective of my stay here. This class, I focused on a new lesson about grammar and vocabulary, stressing many rules in completing sentences and allow them to work on their pronunciation skills. This morning class was successful, the students telling me that they are understanding my lessons and such, but still expressing to me their frustrations with their former English education, in that they did not get enough practice with speaking English, leading them to have difficulty attempting to talk to me in English. One of the students, Thuy, one of the younger sisters, told me that much of teaching at the high schools and middle schools on English were taught passively, the teachers giving little to no room for the students to speak English during the lessons, as lessons focused only on grammar and vocabulary, rather than speaking. My deduction from this is that, because the examinations in English are only multiple choice based in Vietnam, many teachers are focusing only on that aspect, as speaking skills are not tested for in any of the main examinations in secondary school and university entrance exams. This leaves me with a rather interesting situation of devising the best possible way to teach English, as it already has, with introducing enough vocabulary and grammar, but also speaking lessons, to create a well-rounded curriculum. I am still working on this each and every day, and it is getting easier as I improve my Vietnamese. Back to the day!
My uncle Duyet called me, telling me that we were going to go touring around Hue to site-see after my last class of the day. Laundry time! I had a bucket of clothes that I left for the whole week, especially because I went swimming every other day this week (including the next day after this entry). Thirty minutes later, I went back into my room to rest and relax, waiting to be called in for dinner with my brothers from the baking school. We chatted over the work day, talking about many different things while also eyeing the television, showing what looks to be a cartoon about the Sonic the Hedgehog series dubbed in Vietnamese. I thanked my brothers and Ms. Dua for the lunch, and went back in my room to nap, a much needed one at that. After a short thirty minutes of sleep, I got up and paced around the room, thinking again about what happened today, and also more ideas for lessons. I quickly jotted some ideas down in my notebook for lessons, and started to read some of my Vietnamese learning books. When the time came to teach, I grabbed my laptop bag and headed off, flicking off the switch for air conditioning.
This afternoon class was for the high school students, numbering today up to six students. The first hour composed of vocabulary and pronnunciation, many of students already knowing many of the vocabulary I had written on the board. Every now and them one of them asked me how to say certain Vietnamese words in English, and when I failed to deliver a response and handed them a dictionary that translated Vietnamese to English. Some of them even took to time to look up some, what I will say as 'unnecessary for class room discussion' words, and said them back to me during the class. I smiled, laughed, and said, "okay, that's enough, give me the dictionary." During our ten minutes break after the first hour, we all looked over photos of the day before, listening to music, and chatting. It was a rather intresting feeling to have to teach the students who I treat as my own family members, seeing as how they address me as "teacher, or Anh, the Vietnamese word for an older male, often used to show respect." I still prefer them to call me Ben or, my Vietnamese name, Bin (pronounced as Bean). The second half of class composed of conversations, mostly between me and Manh, one of my younger brothers, as we ask each other questions. I hope to be doing this more often and plan to have more one-on-one tutoring sessions with the students to work on speaking when I have time outside the classroom.
My uncle arrived at four, so I went back, packed up my things, and headed off to our first destination, the Imperial Citadel in Hue.
It was bright, sunny, hot, and lively, on the streets on Hue at this time, as it was tourist season and also the end of the weekend. People from all around Vietnam and the world, were touring everywhere, cameras all about. Unfortunately, me and my uncle arrived to the citadel about thirty minutes before closing time, a normal visit being two hours to see it all (I will describe the citadel in the next entry as I actually got to visit it and many other amazing places the next day!). Instead, we decided to ride around Hue some more, visit the pierre, and eventually decided to get on one of the intriquite ferries that we rode on the other day with Mrs. Hong's friends and family, on the Song Huong, or the Perfume River/Huong River (it gets the perfume name from the flowers that fall into the river during certain seasons, giving it an aromatic smell). While waiting to board the ferry, we noticed a sign for a new resturant being build onto the river, costing at around ten billion Vietnamese dong or around $500,000. Wow! It was in its beginning phases of contruction, seeing just the frame of the restaurant completed. What a site, I hopefully will return to try something from there in the years to come. As the time went by, thousands of people flocked over to the pierre to see the singers of Hue, which were to board the many different ferries on the pierre and sail off into the river, offering guests and unique style of musical entertainment. Men and women dressed in Ao Dai, (the national costume), equipped with instruments boarded the ferries, followed by hoards of people, eager to hear them perform. What a night...
The singing was captivating, expressing feelings and emotions, I cannot truly describe, maybe a mix between contemplation and passion. The night was beautiful, the Hue night life coming to fruition. The pleasant breeze on the river colled me off and allowed me relax my tired arms and legs. After an intermission in the performance, all the boat members casted off pyres into the river, saying a wish, and setting it off into the river to flow out into the distance. As I cast my pyre off, I thought to myself of all that had happened today once again, wishing that I would find the strength in myself to carry out my mission and find peace and love for myself when my mission ends. I starred at the pyre, as it floated off in the distance, until it finally subsided and sank into the river. The musical performance ended with a comedic note, with two performers singing jokes to one another, amidst an exciting score of instrumentation. Soon after we left the pierre, it started to rain. Rain came, a lot of it, people rushing off to get under cover and get home. After a long hour or so of staying it out in cover due to not having rain coats, me and my uncle eventually made it back to the center, tired, soaked with rain water, and refreshed by the journeys taken today. It was at last time to call it a night, my body really letting me know it had had enough. What soothing sleep...
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