Good coffee for breakfast and a peaceful Sunday morning ride to school. I stop at Joo’s shop across the road from school for another coffee before I head in for the first lesson. It’s not hot yet but the humidity is rising fast.
First lesson is a starter group of eight kids around six years old with a very basic understanding of English, today we are learning colours. I am developing my persona as a teacher that is evolving as always encouraging, happy and fun but with a small tolerance for messing around. I found the line today when one of the kids is chattering quite consistently to the kids either side of him while they are trying to work and not paying attention to me (and there is no bigger crime than denying me attention) so I sneak over and slam my hand on his desk scaring the hell out of him and making a few of the other kids jump and look up in shock. I can see he is close to tears so instantly throw out a big smile (and remind myself not to react quite that intensely again) and we move on with the lesson, he is my most focused student for the rest of today though. As I said we are doing colours and apart from repetition speaking and listening it also involves colouring in and again, parents, for whatever reason, did not buy the books for two of the kids. I manage to pair them up with other kids that have books so they get something out of the lesson but really what a lousy approach the school has.
In-between lessons Tessie gives me the new roster for my first paid week – surprise, surprise - it has been cut from fourteen hours to eight with excuses that there are tests on Thursday so I lose that four hours and for some reason I lose two hours for the early class Sunday, I don’t care I don’t want to be up at six to teach on a Sunday anyway (or any day) and I was wondering how the school was going to mess me around, I was expecting it, you were right Brandon.
I will continue to talk badly about the school I’m sure but the truth is because it is a “cowboy” operation I am able to lazily insert myself into the teaching system without too much effort or stress, if it was a professional school that worked hard on a curriculum I would be spending a lot more time studying, struggling and stressed so as Tao would say…..everything is as it should be.
The second class is about twelve students around ten years old, again a minor grasp of English with some smart alec loud boys and some chattering gossip girls and one belligerent anti-authority boy who just stares at me, I like that kind of kid. He is the first one I make an example of about ten minutes into the lesson by getting him to stand up next to me in front of the class (something they all make clear they are terrified at the prospect of) to read the first paragraph. He stumbles his way through, suddenly becoming coyly dependant on me for some of the words which I offer in a very happy, encouraging and helpful manner, I high five him when he gets through it and now he’s on my side. I call out the girl that seems to be the biggest talker who was talking through his reading and get her up to read the second paragraph, by the time she has finished reading most of the class are upright and focused, talking is at a minimum. I ask for a volunteer for the third paragraph and I get one, they are working with me already and I’m only twenty minutes in. Cruel but fair with a happy smile seems to work for me.
The biggest trouble these kids have, and it stems from the Vietnamese school system, is that they are expected to memorise everything from a book so they “know” things but no one explains it so they “understand” them. I make them shut their books every now and again and watch me, they are terrified without being able to look at the books but it seems to me they are not going to learn how to pronounce a word by staring down at the book and mumbling. I act like a clown to ease their stress and it is noticeable how much better they react and pick things up with the books closed and I think they feel it too. Anyway, enough blowing my own trumpet today, the bell has rung.
It rained while we were in class and though it’s only twenty five degrees the humidity is prominent in the midday traffic ride home. A quick shower and off to Dungs café for a Club Burger and a beer. I step next door for a beer with the English lads and meet a very cool American called William who also goes by Liam. I know he is cool because it is hot and sweaty and he is wearing a trench coat and army helmet. Insane one would think until you talk to him, a considered and intelligent chap who is just a bit eccentric and we hit it off discussing writing and writers, something we are both aspiring to. The table soon filtered down to just Tom and I and he has had quite a few beers so after discussing what Australia thinks of the royal family and Julia Gillard I head off for a lay down.
I’m still a bit hungry so I stop at a restaurant just near my hotel who take far too long to serve up my fried chicken wing and rice as I get hassled by the shoe shine boys who are not used to seeing me around this side of the block so when the third one ignores my “no thank you” and grabs one of my thongs (yes they will try to shine even your thongs) I snap with an uncool, loud “NO!” he recoils away, I take a deep breath and force on a smile of apology and grit my teeth, that chicken better be really bloody good when it finally comes – they got lucky – it was. Yes I am grumpy and tired and just don’t have the energy I normally do to let this all bounce off me so please just let me eat and get back to my room to fall on the bed for a couple of hours.
My new room doesn’t have the Australia Channel so I spend some time working out how to tune the TV and sort out the six or so channels I do watch all within a buttons click of each other instead of spread out over eighty channels then I spend some time dozing in and out of Iron Man Two.
After my rest when the sun has gone down I wander around the block and stop in at the GO2 for a beer and a chapter of my book and some Bob Marley and Beatles then head to Annes’ for dinner but my front table is taken so I keep walking and end up back at the corner bar with Glen, Tom and Peter the Australian. Tom has been here since I left him four hours ago and has apparently slept in his seat for most of that time.
The one legged old man, Tom, Peter and Glen.
Since the school has dropped my Thursday classes I have Tuesday to Friday free this week and mention I might get out of town for a while, a few people have recommended Vung Tau which is about two hours on the hydrofoil and Peter says he has nothing better to do so he would be happy to come with me. I’m not quite sure how I feel about that, I have no real care to judge him having a girlfriend some thirty odd years his junior, yes glass houses and all that - though there are significant differences between our cases which I won't go into for fear of sounding defensive which I am not, but he has used the word “gook” frequently and that doesn’t sit right. That kind of language is used quite frequently around this table along with alternate language for colour and ethnicity, shudder worthy but fascinating to see it first hand and the reasons behind it from where I sit, it will be an under current in my writing and the experience will lend some authenticity.
I have been playing my cards close to my chest and I think they might’ve started to wonder if I was gay because I don’t talk much about “partying” with girls and I don’t have a local girl hanging off me so it was good to see their reaction when Lan came over to say hi and they started in on her. She reacted by putting her arm around me and teasing them with “Simon is my boyfriend he is number one in my heart” with her gorgeous big smile and a wink (and probably even sweeter than that was the chorus that came back from the gents "well you have good taste he's a bloody good fellow!" aw shucks!). I like her because she is not trying to ingratiate herself with me. I told her last week that I would pay her wages for the day so she didn’t have to work and she could be my tour guide for the day but then she sat down and had a serious chat with me about how she can’t do that because she would earn a “bad reputation” amongst her colleagues even though it was a totally innocent offer. I offer her a couple of days away at Vung Tau this week with a cheeky smile and a wink.
I know my limits and I can’t keep up with these boys so I head next door for dinner at Dung café then head home for a movie and some nuts. You know how sometimes you are aware just before it happens that pulling on the packet of nuts/chips to open them is all about to go wrong…………….
