Diversity Break

I am afraid of public transportation.  There.  I said it.  Not the people or the drivers or even the reliability.  I am afraid of my inability to navigate a new system.  Some of this unwarranted fear has been alleviated after my recent trip to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.

After a travel guardian helped me get a skybus ticket on the plane, I reviewed my notes ten more times before we touched down.  I actually felt pretty confident, even though I couldn't picture how anything was going to look or how it would happen.  After a long line of foreign passport holders, I crossed to the other side - the side of busy travelers eating, duty free-ing and finding their ways home.  After some wandering and a few questions, I found the skybuses and boarded one bound for the city.  A little after an hour later, I was in KL Sentral - the main station.  From there I needed to get on the LRT (light rail transit) to the stop nearest the guesthouse.  To my surprise, the LRT map looked very similar to my hometown transit in Chicago (the "L").  I was taking the red line and instead of a ticket, I was given a token.  A quick swipe of the token over a sensor got me through the gates and I'm glad I held onto it because I wouldn't have been let through the doors of my stop without sliding the token down a slot which corresponded with how much I paid.  Check!

I hate being the one at a corner staring at a map at night, so I hid myself behind a bush studying my surroundings.  After a few street crossings, I stood in front of the guesthouse shaking my head and smiling at how seamlessly all of that transportation went.  I felt like I leveled up in traveledom.  Such a contrast from my ridiculous first night in Vietnam.

Guardians and Ax Murderers

I know one reason for American international absence: flight cost.  This is certainly not the case in Asia, and I'm pretty sure the planes here use the same fuel as the planes in the states.  It costs more to travel between US states than it does to travel between Asian countries (with comparable distance).  So with that being said, I was finally able to take advantage of this cost phenomenon during Vietnam's Tet Holiday.   Being a smaller city, Da Nang only has non-stop flights to a few destinations, and most of them are in Vietnam.  One of the only international options was Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia - and why not?  I've never been there.  Booked.

Namaskar

My motorbike pulls up to the spaceship-looking building and a guard smiles and waves as if I’m a long lost friend he hasn’t seen in ages.  I enter the large opening in the building and directly opposite is a room full of mirrors and glass with about fifty sweaty bodies.  At first, I look away but I cannot avert my gaze for long.  They are wearing incredibly short spandex shorts and matching sports bras.  This must be a qualification for this room because the fit bodies and…developing…bodies are all wearing it.  The music is blaring and their hips are thrusting and gyrating.  Am I in Da Nang’s finest red light district?  No – I’m watching Zumba.  My roommate can attest to this suggestive workout as she is a bit of a regular.  I don’t realize I’m staring until one of them looks over at me.  My whiplash heel turn was probably pretty obvious.  I locate the dimly-lit room I was looking for and quickly flip my sandals off, spread my towel out on an unattended mat and assume the laying position everyone else is in. 

[Crap!  I’m late!] 

One minute later, the instructor speaks softly in Vietnamese and everyone rises in unison, grabbing their belongings to leave.  I’m not late.  I’m early.  And I just crashed this class’ meditation.  Awesome.

Anchor Yearn for A Mossless Stone

“…so many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day, to have a new and different sun. ”


Chris McCandless, ‘Into the Wild’

Playing in the Mud

Today was a very joyous day.  If there is one thing that I miss more than Mexican food - more than driving a car - more than game nights - it's pottery.  My life was consumed by clay up until the last week before leaving America.  I taught wheel throwing, I sold my ceramics, I had clay parties and get-togethers at my apartment - it's an understatement to give clay the name "hobby;" it was a big part of my life, and my happiness.
So when I moved here, its absence left a pretty big, muddy hole.  I'm ashamed to say that I didn't know that the Thanh Ha Pottery Village existed until a month ago, and that I hadn't visited until today.  Rain or shine, Andy and I were on a mission to visit.  (It rained).  The cold, wet day put no damper on our spirits!  We found the village 45 minutes away - just West of Hoi An.

Reconstituting clay with his feet!

At first, it didn't look like much.  We drove around until one woman waved and said hello from her yard.  "Why not?"  I said.  We parked our bikes and ascended the steps to her home.  There were molds everywhere and lots of greenware (unfired clay) piled on the ground and in rows on shelves.  Feeling slightly disappointed that this family only made mold duplicates, I was still appreciating seeing their process and their mammoth kilns.  Considering the amount of greenware waiting around, I'd imagine they only fire it up once in a great while.  Stepping inside their compound, I witnessed a woman sitting on a stool, carving holes out of a giant mold vase.  She didn't mind our presence and continued to carve after offering a smile and "lantern" explanation.
Stepping into the next room, I finally found what I had been looking for.  An unattended large disc on the ground with an accompanying squat stool.  I knew what I was looking at.  The most primitive wheel I will ever have the privilege to throw on.  The woman saw my smile and pointed with raised eyebrows.

"Dạ! Dạ!" (Yes! Yes!)

Are You Readyyy

There are certain things that are hard to imagine about living abroad until you're living abroad.  You know you will eat new foods and meet new people and maybe your shower will be strange like in Lost in Translation.  One thing I had not thought about was Total Peripheral Lingual White Noise Tune-Out (or, TPLWNTU - still working on a shorter name!)

It's natural to overhear other people's conversations when everyone around you is speaking your native tongue.  This gal is arranging a workout time...this guy is having a meltdown with his co-worker...this youngin is throwing a fit over the toy he's being denied... but when you have no clue what anyone is saying, the sounds all fall into the non-lingual grouping of motorbike engines, dog barking or car honking.

At first, this phenomenon made me nervous.  What if they're talking about me?  What if I'm about to be scammed?  But then I learned to love it.  If someone's talking about me in Vietnamese, they can speak as loudly as they like because I wouldn't understand or acknowledge it.  If I want to work and plan lessons in a cafe, I'm not distracted by any conversations that I can't understand anyway.

One area of particular tune-out has been neighbor interactions outside our windows.  We have permanent openings to the outside in most rooms and so neighbor noise is pretty common - especially in the morning.  No one around us speaks English, so the squabbles and singing and yelling and conversing is all Vietnamese... until yesterday morning.  I was getting ready to start the day when, out of no where, I heard a very clear and undeniable English question trumpeted outside my window.

ARE YOU READYYYYY!!!

And that was it.