Viet Nam: Sweet Sour Salty Spicy Crunchy

Chaco Canyon

2011-07-28T07:08:00.000-07:00

Chaco Canyon hosts the densest collection of pueblos in the American southwest, and the most significant pre-columbian ruins north of Mexico. I wish I had time to write about the significance of this site (especially the the astroarchaeology stuff - that's my favorite), since I have spent the past two days learning about it from two of the leading archaeologists from the region and two Pueblo scholars (Tessie and Joe, pictured below) - but, seriously, we are scheduled to the minute! I am stealing minutes now after breakfast. The last picture here is of the "Two Marjies." Margie Connolly is the director of the NEH program - truly lovely person. Today we go out in the field for dig #2, so more dirt, dirt, dirt~

Monument Valley

2011-07-25T07:12:00.000-07:00

Digging in Very Old Dirt

2011-07-23T07:12:00.001-07:00

This is Ellen from New Hampshire and she is holding up our "find of the day" - a core chip stone. We were archaeology buddies on our
2 x 2 plot of the Basketmaker III pithouse site yesterday.

We dug for two hours in heat near 100 degrees and found shards of pottery, charcoal, chip stones and lots of sandstone. Actually "sandstone" becomes a curse when you are "out on the field" because it is really cool looking and allows you to believe you have found some pottery, but you haven't. So when the lead archaeologist, Steve, says "sandstone," you feel absolutely crushed.

The site is about a ten-minute drive from the campus, and these people here are very, very excited about their excavation. We actually couldn't believe how fast the time flew; I guess it's like being a kid, getting lost digging in the dirt. I think that is how these adults must feel every day.

Anyway, after you find your pieces, you take them over to sift them in this area:

After digging, we went to the lab to learn how to clean, sort, classify and infer. Like I said, they are covering all the bases. Today was really fun, but honestly, I

don't think I have what it takes (patience and focus) to succeed in this field!

2011-07-22T06:01:00.000-07:00

This is the view of the Mesa Verde Mountains with a wheat field in front - this is taken during my nightly walking route, just about ten minutes from the hogan ranch (pictured below).

Almost every minute is scheduled here in the desert...not much time to travel to the main lodge to get an internet connection.

This past week, we have analyzed Pueblo artifacts dating back over a thousand years to recognize time periods, we have started fires (see video) while sitting in a reproduction of a Pueblo pithouse, we have made rope, we have thrown spears, and we have listened to a lecture from the leading archaelogist from the region - a guy with a thirty year resume. Today we will spend a few hours digging at an actual site ("working in the

field" is what we like to say), which is just a few minutes from campus. It's a "Basketmaker III Site" - and this actually means something to me now. Then we will go to a laboratory to learn how to analyze the data.

When you're a teacher, you usually hope and pray that the educational value of your inservice sessions or classes will be quality...I am so relieved to say that they have been extremely thoughtful in the design of this seminar, so that learning builds upon learning. Experiential learning at its best.

And just a short word about the food: the "camp chef" is originally from Ballard and he is fantastic. I can hardly wait to see what he has created for each meal. It may be eggs and hashbrowns smothered with a chile verde sauce or barbecued ham or jambalaya...all accompanied by a huge salad bar every lunch and dinner. Hard to even consider it camp food.

This weekend, a group of us will visit Durango - which, supposedly, has good shopping, food, hot springs - and a good two-stepping cowboy bar. Will keep you posted.

Signing off from Hogan Town~

Unassuming Wonderfulness

2011-07-19T19:59:00.000-07:00

There is a little stand at the entrance to the Mesa Verde Cliff Palace dwelling that suggests a donation of fifty cents to borrow a little guidebook to help you navigate the ancient Pueblo world of the 1200's. I guess you could do it that way, or you could take someone with you who is a direct descendent of these ancients, who will stand in front of the dwelling and imagine with you what their lives might have been like. We took Tessie Naranjo with us today (pictured left), and with unassuming wonderfulness, we became participants with her in this world that reminded me of the days of digging dirt hole forts in Candy's back yard (only a little more advanced).

The Pueblo communities of today are the only modern communities that are directly descended from ancient societies - the ancients have often been referred to as the Anasazi, but now are simply called "Ancient Pueblos." Crow Canyon Institute focuses on three areas: research of this region, education (their camps are only a part of that), and the integration of local tribes (Pueblo, Utes, Navajo, Zuni, etc...) as advisors in everything. This is where they differ from other centers, from what I understand. Every single person involved in this program is gifted with extreme graciousness - especially Margie Connolly, who is the director of the institute, as well as a respected archaeologist. They are all thrilled to be doing what they are doing, and they are as respectful as possible to the people whose ancestors they are studying (and excavating)...they are inviting them in as the spiritual and living experts on their subject. So respectful, so appropriate, and - from what I now understand - so rare.

And, there's more: after touring sites from 600 AD to the palace dwelling above all day, we were invited to the home of a famous archaeologist, who is Margie's next door neighbor in Mancas (not far from Cortez). Florence Lister and her husband spent their lives in the field; he (now deceased) specialized in Southwestern archaeology as a professor of anthropology at Colorado University, and she specialized in pre-Colonial Spanish pottery. Florence is 91 and her home is a museum of Mexican pottery (mostly from the Puebla, Mexico region (near Oaxaca), southwestern artifacts, and just overall really, really cool stuff. We sat in her backyard for a picnic, with a view of the Mesas. I am way too tired to tell you about the food we are eating right now, but that will definitely be a blog post on its own. Florence is also purely gracious and the kind of witty that only a 91 year old who has lived an amazing life can be. She told us stories of how the cliff dwellings were discovered...by relatives of the family who own the property next door to her (they lost a cow and went looking for it when they stumbled upon the site). I am including a picture of her in her younger days because I forgot my camera at home and am finding all of my pictures on the internet until my camera arrives.) She and her husband, both, are accomplished in their field and have written many books.

A day with so many highlights...I will write about a few I am thinking about right now. One is that Tessie had shared with us that her mother is buried in her kitchen (in her modern Pueblo house in her community), because her mother wanted to be a part of everything in her daughter's life after she died. About a half an hour after explaining this, our National Parks group tour guide, a charming Bostonian, told us that many remains had been found in kitchens, but they didn't really know why...(!)

One last highlight for tonight: after her talk, Florence walked a few of us around her house and told stories about some of her "things." Every piece had a story: flint pieces from the Nile, grave markers from Mexican cemeteries, and a pine church pew that she had made into a coffee table.
Yes, I am a pretty lucky person~

I'm at Archaeology Camp!

2011-07-18T15:47:00.000-07:00

I am holed up in a hogan dwelling, hiding from a fierce lightning storm with someone who just told me five stories about almost being hit by lightning. The lightning is passing right overhead and we yelp and jump each time the thunder roars through and shakes our little structure..."we" is Ashley (nickname: Lightning Rod), an English teacher who told her lightning stories with a cute North Carolina accent, Jan, an art teacher who could tell them with an even cuter Tennessee accent, and me.

I am at the equivalent of adult summer camp, at a National Endowment for the Humanities summer institute in Cortez, Colorado (near the four corners in the SW)-

This is the point at which Karen, one of the program staff, dressed in serious rain gear, knocked frantically on our hogan door and told us to "take cover in the main building - downstairs." A tornado had been spotted close by, and winds were expected up to 65 mph.

So - in case you read over my first paragraph, thinking that perhaps I was exaggerating - I wasn't. Yep, that is what we did on our second night at archaeology camp - we ran up a path through lightning and thunder and took refuge in the basement of the lodge, playing card games until the all-call was made for our return to safety. Ironic..."Zero" precipitaion to date this year read the weather report the other day, but it has rained each of the three days I've been here. A rainy summer for this Seattleite, anywhere she takes herself...

Now I am back in the hogan (pronounced "ho-gone"), which is similar to a yurt, where deer, jack rabbits, owls and prairie dogs (and perhaps a mountain lion) will greet me when I wake up tomorrow (or when I have to walk from the hogan to the bathroom in a few hours), as we board the bus to see Mesa Verde on our first field trip. Some "people in high authority" have ruined the word "awesome" for me, but this program, "Bridging Cultures: Diversity and Unity in the Pueblo World" is just pretty awesome. Twenty five teachers are here from all over the US (I'm the only one from the NW) as well as 25 high school students who are attending their own camp. You'll have to wait to hear what else these NEH wizards have planned for us. Oh, and there are two other "Margies" here. Three of us. That has never happened to me before~

The Times They Are A-Changin'...

2010-06-14T07:18:00.000-07:00

This morning I put three mangoes on T and T's home altar, then identified myself to the house god and the money god, repeating after Thanh: "I am Marjie. I go home today. Give me lucky, happy and money." We did the prayer gesture three times, then put the lit incense in the sand.

I should have prayed for lucky before going to get rice cakes on my last morning, because she wasn't there. I usually only get cakes on the weekends so I can take my time enjoying them. I went to T's house a little distraught, so after the incense lighting, Thanh said we would at least go to her house to say goodbye. But...she wasn't home. Maybe it's for the best. Maybe I would have choked on those cakes while crying over them.

I got banh cuon from the vendor who never acknowledges me instead, then had two last amazing spring rolls. Because everyone knew it was my last day, many mutual wishes for lucky and happy were exchanged. Tomorrow is the half year Tet day, so Thanh made sure I tried both of the traditional treats present in the market: sticky rice and mung bean wrapped in bamboo leaves (good) and rice soaked in wine (not so good).

I stopped by Nam's house to see if Minh could rustle him up - we'll see if he comes by later. I also sat with Nam's mother for a while - she is sitting up now, but still quite gaunt and twisted from her stroke. She gave me a very gracious farewell.

Last night T and T came over and swung in the hammocks with me for a while. After Thuy went home to cook "salad and cow" for her new husband ('s family?), Thanh and I went to get a double shot of pomelo/pineapple juice and also took a trip to the neighborhood temple. There we lit three sticks of incense to Phuoc Ba- one for the world, one for our families and one for us. We wished the world, etc, "lucky, strong, and busy."

On the way home...I still cannot believe this... right across from wonton soup man we saw a BRAND NEW SUSHI RESTAURANT. It's indoor, bright, polished and cheery - completely unlike all of the other plastic stool restaurants on the street. I eat wonton soup all the time and never saw this going in. Sushi on our street. Wow. I wish I still had a camera so that Katherine would believe me, but it was swiped the other night at the restaurant (don't want to talk about it).

The new road that went in behind our house connects our street with the city in a major way. New sidewalks went in a few months ago, and now buildings are going up all along the new road where the Crispy Vietnamese Ravioli stand is. Thanh says that things will continue to change very quickly on our road. This frightens me.

The T's and I have plans to go to dinner tomorrow night, after we turn in my motorbike and get our hair washed at the Bum Bum (and after I get a last massage and swim and work out at the nicest gym I will ever belong to). I told Thanh I wanted Nguyen Canh Chan Sushi on my last night- nothing raw though! I'm not quite sure why that appeals to me, since it represents the change I dread, but it does.

And after that, we will all go to the airport. T's told me last night that their father wants to come, too. I am very honored - he is really cool. He always says "Maggie! America good!" every time he sees me.

America - it will be nice to see you again~

The New Queen of Nguyen Canh Chan and more Neighborhooding

2010-06-13T18:09:00.000-07:00

Katherine bought this really cool big yellow cushy chair when we first moved in - I sat in it all the time during "debrief sessions." Before we left for the airport I asked her who should get it and she said, "T and T's mom."

This morning I woke up really early and decided to take the chair over. I probably should have taken it over at night, because every vendor (now they all know we are leaving and have been giving stuff away) jumped up and motioned that he/she would love the chair. But I made my way to my friends' house and placed it down in their living area. It looked so huge and yellow and modern in that small house!

Their mother beamed and sat down in it like a queen on a throne. Her signature greeting to me is to squeeze my hand very tightly, and this time she squeezed it and held on extra, extra tightly (even though I told her it was from Katherine; in this case it was better to be the messenger than the giver). She told me through Thanh that it felt really good on her back. They are so used to sitting on little plastic stools, I bet it does feel good!

My other favorite gift recipient is Ut with Katherine's bike. As we walked by their shop on our way to the taxi yesterday (after K stated the following to the castle ceiling: "Castle, you will never be topped!"), K mentioned how nice her bike looked - Ut had cleaned it and shined it up quite a bit. "That makes me think I should have cleaned it more," she said. We looked in and waved and Ut was still smiling proudly over that bike. I think he will be smiling for a very long time.

After my morning run, I came back to set a few last things outside the castle. I'm not quite sure how this happened, but Henry and Candle Lady's sister popped their heads in and I motioned over to where all of our dishes were, like "do you want them?" They still needed to be washed, and I was going to do it (I swear) but all of a sudden, both Henry's and Candle Lady's families were in the castle, doing the dishes, wiping down the counters, sweeping the floors, their kids jumping on the couch and chairs and flying airplanes up into the extremely high castle ceiling - I think there were about twelve people in the house altogether (Franco was still sleeping). They took the carpet, the coat rack, and worn-out shoes.

It was such a party that I kept running upstairs to get more things, like the hangers in my closet and a porcelain Vietnamese doll a student had given to me but I didn't think I would take home. When I brought the doll down, all of the women in the room let out a gasp at the doll's beauty - she wears a green ao dai and a conical hat. Henry's six-month old daughter grabbed it immediately and all of the women laughed and laughed and said something to the effect of, "Well, I guess it's her doll, then!" That baby just smiled and smiled at that doll. A six-month old!

When everyone was done cleaning and taking every last thing, I thought of the Grinch and that last Christmas ornament he grabs before he heads up the chimney - but in a good way. The only thing left was a lone cut out paper snowflake hanging from the balcony; my niece had made it to cool down a very hot Christmas.

Then my neighbors brought me out into the alley to take every combination of people pictures possible - me with the baby and the doll, me with Candle Lady and her sister, me with Henry's wife and baby, etc. Henry asked me to keep my ears open for any job openings in seafood quality control - like so many here, he wants to bring his family to America to make some money. I told him I would, really wishing I had that kind of power. And all of them wanted to know...how did I like Viet Nam? I told them again and again how much I loved Viet Nam - this made them so happy to hear and they wished me lots of happy and lucky back in America.

Yes, Castle (and neighborhood), you will never be topped!

Chicken Soup Here!

2010-06-13T06:23:00.000-07:00

"You go home, I very memory of friend. Don't know when friend come back Viet Nam."

This is an email I got today before taking K to the airport. I had put my email address on the bottom of the notes to my vendor friends not knowing if any of them might actually use email. K and I theorized about who it might be, and then K said, "If you write and ask, they will write back telling you what they sold." She was right.

I wrote back, "Thank you! Who is this?" and I got this message:

"Chicken soup here! I am a friend from a small. Some time you go to eat at my place."

Of course! Chicken soup man and his wife looked especially disappointed when they read my leaving note. They wave to me every morning as I pass and I sit down for a bowl of their delicious soup a few times per month. Look how inviting they are...don't you also just want to sit down on a tiny plastic chair and have a bowl?

I texted K with the answer to the riddle as she waited for her flight to Bangkok.

"Chicken Soup Man wrote you an email? That is AWESOME!" she wrote back.

Yeah, "Chicken soup here!" is pretty awesome!

Goodbye K

2010-06-12T19:46:00.000-07:00

Only for Katherine would I go out at at 1:30 am to a bar to watch soccer. That's what time the US/England soccer game was here, and K is an avid soccer fan and player, and it was her last night in Saigon.

In fact, she is so avid

that she flies out today to Egypt en route to South Africa, where she will watch Portugal play North Korea in the World Cup. As for the rest of her summer, allow me to bore you with t

he details... after Egypt and S. Africa, she will fly to London to stay with her sister for a bit and then together they will travel in Croatia.

I know.

And then she will return to her beloved city of Montreal to try to find a PE job in a very tough job market. But - Montreal is where she wants to be, ultimately, and she knows that sooner or later she must put in the time to get into the system - so why postpone it any longer?

So on her last morning, we got rice cakes. A double order. Then we climbed up on T and T's stand to do a little business.

What to say now?

My experience in Saigon would have been nothing without this partner in crime I found on my very first day here two years ago. And I mean nothing.

Katherine is... well, she is just comfortable in her own skin. She is solid, funny, 100% loyal, fun, supportive, loves a challenge, is always ready to laugh at herself or at any story she is told, and is, as Rita wrote in her post,"the best listener in the world." This might not sound like a compliment, but to me it is of the highest order: she is an easy friend.

For two years we have figured it all out together - finding the castle and discovering the market, learning to cross the Saigon streets from a blind man, seeking the best food, spas and tailors in the city, Sunday night cooking with the T's, throwing up together on New Year's Eve in Thailand, theorizing what happened to the pomelo man this past month (no sight of him at all), organizing massages in the balcony, getting a palm tree up five flights of stairs, teaching these great kids, and getting mugged by a motorbike thief. We have figured it out and then debriefed all of it, most significantly while swinging in the hammocks on the roof. We agree that one word that could best summarize our friendship would be the word "debrief."

I appreciate so many things about how people look at life here, but one of my favorite sayings is "I wish you very lucky." That's what it's all about in this harsh life, what luck might come your way. Katherine came my way in a definite form of lucky, and I wish Katherine nothing but lucky returning to her life in Canada (the country I am so much more familiar with after being in Vietnam even though I have lived two hours from it for most of my life). I will quote Dorothy here in her honor:

"I am going to miss you most of all Scarecrow."

Morning in the Castle Alley

2010-06-11T22:17:00.000-07:00

This morning we had a big give-away in the alley outside of the castle. We set up a table and kept bringing items out; every single thing disappeared just like that - even all of our English books, funny plaques our students had given us, and an elf costume of Franco's. K and I brought our pots and pans to T and T this morning (they had already laid claim to the big ticket items they wanted), but they were adamant that our neighbor, Candle Lady, needed the pots and pans more than they did. Candle Lady was thrilled.

Sweet Seamstress' brother, Ut (whom we thought was her son until just a few days ago) very sweetly asked for Katherine's bike, and he broke out into the biggest grin when she told him it was his. SS got the coat and shoe racks, iron and shelves. T and T's brother's wife - the mother of Monkey Boy - came and took all of our dishes and food. Henry - our endlessly gracious neighbor across the alley (laughing grandpa is his father) got some of Franco's shirts, a table, a lamp and some things for his kids. It was really fun - and such an example of a community deciding who should get what. No one here owns many items outside of the "need" column.

K had given Thanh a gift certificate for a facial for her birthday, so yesterday the four of us took an hour and a half at the spa. It was a first for those two - Thanh, especially, would never allow herself such a treat. Afterward she told me, "I forgot all of my worries." (I cannot say it was a first for K and me - we are two people who have become experts on the spas in Saigon, just ask us.)

K and I "did" the market together this morning and I gave out more of my notes. Banana lady gave us some complimentary bananas, Make-Up Lady gave me a free bonus lip gloss with my purchase (better than Macy's) and Sweet Seamstress gave us our last clothes orders "from her heart to ours."

I took donuts to the seamstress I love across town (where Tarn has accused me of running my own sweat shop) and she hugged me for a long time, gave me her email address and told me she would continue to make me clothes and send them to America - all I must do is to send her a picture of what I want. (K thinks this was bad for my addiction.)

Back to the topic of the neighborhood: I've mentioned it before, but many of our colleagues were not so fortunate with their neighbors. I feel so much gratitude to these people who have not only welcomed us into their alley, but who have kept their eyes on our house, paid our electricity bills to keep us in power when we were negligent on occasion, and who have held candles out windows when we came home to darkness late at night. Those kind of people are fun to give to, you know?

Design

2010-06-10T17:55:00.000-07:00

Dear Friend-

I will be returning to my home in Seattle, Washington, USA on the 15th of June. I want to thank you for all of the kindness you have shown to me over these past two years - and for all of the good food. Living in the Nguyen Canh Chan neighborhood has been a highlight for me.

I wish you lots of luck and happiness in your life!

Thank you,
Marjie

This is the note I had Lisa (remember the student from last year who helped me with my Nam problems?) translate for me to hand out to the vendors I have grown to love over these past two years. I personalized a few of them - one to the rice cake ladies, telling them their cakes were my favorite meal in Saigon - and one to the spring roll lady, telling her how much I love her rolls. Katherine gets a kick out of Spring Roll Lady because whenever she runs into me in the market, she talks to me as if I can understand every word she says.

The others, I just photocopied them and handed them out this morning. I didn't want to leave it to the last minute, and I definitely did not want to leave with no word of goodbye.

A thought I had right before doing my rounds this morning (there are twenty two vendors on my list - I did about twelve this morning), I considered that some of them may not be able to read. I was right. Rice With Mung Bean Lady had her neighbor read it to her, and Banh Cuon Lady set the note aside without reading it. She did say "Thank you" though, so I think she understands. Spring Roll lady grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly, towel lady made the motion of tears streaming down her face (while laughing) and Garlic Lady kept asking when I would return. Banana Lady knows English quite well - she is so gracious and kind...she said she knew she would see me in the market again.

Rice Cake Lady will get her note on Sunday, when Katherine and I have our last cakes together. K leaves Sunday afternoon, and T, T and I will go to the airport with her. Tarn leaves today and I said goodbye to Alice last weekend because she left for Bangkok to begin year two on her master's, and Steven and Sharon fly out midnight on Tuesday, just like me. Last night, after the graduation ceremony, ten of us went to a nice, quiet restaurant and dined mightily. It was as if I hand-picked all of my favorite people to be there at this goodbye dinner, but really it just happened. It was really nice. I will include this picture even though it includes only half of me...

As for T and T... Thuy cries easily. She is openly emotional and has scrunched up her face with tears a few times in the past few weeks, especially the night that Tarn took us all out for seafood. Thanh, however, stays pretty stoic. This morning, however, I brought them flowers from the ceremony and Thanh did not greet me with her usual lightness of being. She looked at the flowers and went inside the house for a long time. When I went to check on her, she was coming down from the loft wearing sunglasses. You don't have to guess what my response to that was...

I still have the feeling that I have been living in a surreal Disney neighborhood, a kind of Old Saigon Street of Dreams designed especially for me.

These past two years seem as if they were designed especially for me.

Top 20

2010-06-06T15:27:00.001-07:00

Since what I will miss of my castle-food-neighborhood-good-friends-limitless-travel-maid-massages-hair-washes-hammocks-on-the-roof-amazingly-sweet-students life here is pretty obvious, here is a list I've been making of the things I will not miss (perhaps because it makes it easier to leave...I have had a few panic attacks lately) (listed in no particular order except #1):

1. The heat. I really can't take being sticky all the time any more.

2. The rats I run over on my motorbike every day. They are flat rats that have already been run over by many other motorbikes so if you were to pick one up it would float in the wind, like a paper rat.

3. Horns honking incessantly. Even though I know objectively that horn honking is not rude here, it will always seem rude. I have been staring each honker down, like "did you REALLY need to do that?" I have not honked my motorbike horn once this entire year.

4. Vendors telling me to "sit down" in a very commanding voice. I don't know why I react so strongly against this, but I refuse to sit down when even my sweetest vendors tell me to.

5. The vendors pointing to all of the food they sell every time I pass. Yes, I know you are selling pineapple today. You have been selling it for two years and I will buy some if I want it...again, why does this irritate me so much? A few vendors I truly love never, ever point to what they are selling. I adore them.

6. Parking my motorbike in very small spaces next to other motorbikes that have the potential to sear my legs in new places.

7. Hearing about motorbike thieves at least once per week now. Friday night, my neighboring teacher friend, Sarah, had her bag around her neck and a motorbike thief grabbed it and dragged her until she lost consciousness and broke her arm and injured her head. These attacks are getting more and more frequent, it seems.

8. Teenagers speaking in a language I don't understand. Yes, they are endlessly sweet - but what are they saying? They are teenagers, after all.

9. Parking my motorbike in my house. It's just not great decoration.

10. My countertop and sink that is made for a very small person. I am tired of leaning over to cook or do dishes, so therefore I hardly ever cook or do dishes. The other day I forgot how to make one of my favorite signature recipes...

11. Being an Amazon. At home I feel so normal-sized!

12. The air pollution. I don't even want to think about what my lungs look like now.

13. The dengue fever potential flying around in the mosquitoes here. I got the flu last week and had the same symptoms I did with dengue - I was terrified!

14. The obstacle course on my daily ride to school. Sometimes it's kinda fun, but lately it has really bugged me.

15. Asian cable TV.

16. Ants attacking any sugar I leave out for even five seconds.

17. The cockroaches that apparently still inhabit a box above my bathroom. Don't you just hate the way they run/scurry across the floor?

18. My weak shower that gets my toilet wet. I hate this shower. My Phinney condo has the best shower I have ever showered under, and it will shower me again beginning on the 20th.

19. The stand-off with the deaf/something-else-wrong-with-her- pineapple lady. She's the one who sells onions and garlic, but she got very irate with me when I bought pineapple from a vendor sitting right next to a vendor I had (unknowingly) bought from the previous week. I have not bought from either one since. And the second one - well, she has the best looking avocados lately. I am afraid to buy them because vendor #1 also has avocados - but not at all as attractive as #2's. What a pity.

20. The frogs that are skinned alive - heads snipped off and still jumping - that sit in a bucket next to the banana lady each morning.

OK, 20 is a good place to stop.

Of course, for each of these complaints there are five positives. Katherine and I - while debriefing in the hammocks one recent night - talked about how we had changed over these past two years. We came up with the same word to wrap it up: resiliency. Vietnam has made us both much more resilient.

AmyT, who comments regularly here, taught in Hungary for two years. Years ago we were out to eat and I found a hair in my food. When I mentioned it, she asked me a simple question: "Human or animal?" and when I answered "human," that told me what my reaction should be - absolutely nothing. I wanted that same thing she had. Maybe another word for that quality is "perspective."

Resiliency and perspective. I hope these qualities stick for a while~

I Call it "Crispy Vietnamese Ravioli"

2010-06-06T06:46:00.000-07:00

...but it's actually called "Chao Luoi Phan Thiet." The "Phan Thiet" part means it's from a place near the beach town Mui Ne. The other part means something like "Rice paper packets filled with minced shrimp and pork, grilled over coals and wrapped up in more rice paper and filled with mango, cucumber, basil and lettuce and then dipped in the best peanut/fish sauce ever."

Thanh took me here a few weeks ago - one of her customers just opened this stand on the sidewalk of the "new road" right behind our house. She had never tried this dish before, and had promised her customer she would come by. Fortunately, she brought me along. Now I am hooked, and I got Katherine hooked as well as a few friends from school. For a while, I was calling it "Packets of Deliciousness," but was told that "packets" did not sound very appetizing, so it was therefore renamed "Crispy Vietnamese Ravioli."

The "ravioli" are grilled on skewers over coals that are lit in a wide metal bowl, and when the packets are brought to your table, you wrap everything up just like you would with the many variations of salad rolls here and dip it all into the sauce. The sweet strips of mango contrast with the crispy packets...talk about crunchy, spicy, sweet, sour, salty and amazing.

And - according to Thanh, the sign reads "5,000 VND per chopstick." That amounts to about thirty cents per stick, and since each person uses two chopsticks, we pay about sixty cents per person for this meal.

After two years, we are still finding the best food in the city right outside our door.

Directions for Alice and Liem (and whoever else reads this in Saigon): You can see the Van Do buildng directly across the street as you eat these on the "new sidewalk." Just go across the bridge from District 4, turn right on Tran Hung Dao and take another right on Nguyen Canh Chan. At the end of NCC, you turn left onto the "new road." Walk down a few blocks and you will run into the stand on the sidewalk. She is open from 2-8 every day.

My Mini-Me Club

2010-06-03T19:49:00.001-07:00

I led an after-school club this year called the "Cross-Cultural Club." We started out doing many cross-cultural activities, such as studying festivals and celebrations from around the world and doing art projects to go along with them. Food was a part of the deal, too. One time we made fresh salsa and quesadillas and once we ordered Indian food. After first semester- when my club was assessing what we wanted to do for the rest of the year- my members were straight with me.

"Ms. Marjorie, all we really want to do is eat," they said. A tear appeared in the corner of my eye; twelve twelve-year-olds who liked to eat as much as I do were sitting wide-eyed in front of me, wanting me to lead them, simply, to eat.

So our second semester "Eating Club" was born. We spent the rest of our time learning about food and finding restaurants to order from for our after school Thursday club. We tried Lebanese, Thai, Mediterranean and Italian (no pizza or spaghetti allowed) and even went on a field trip to a Mexican restaurant for a five-course meal (of guacamole and chips, quesadillas, tostadas, tacos, carnitas and rice).

One member, Truong, is the most Mini-Me of them all. He is obsessed with what he is going to eat for each meal, loves the taste of food, and knows almost as much about it as I do. Pre-Eating Club, he knew how to pronounce "gnocchi," he had already tasted carnitas in this Mexican-food-deprived- city, and he already ordered Masala curry every chance he got. His parents, at times - when they know they will not be home for dinner - give him money to order whatever he wants. So he knows the best menus all over the city and places calls from his cell phone at school so it will be there when he gets home. Needless to say, I get a big kick out of this kid. We are kindred food spirits (here he is pictured with an empty plate).

When we went to the Mexican restaurant, he kept telling me he brought enough money to order extra food for himself, in addition to our pre-set five courses. Well, he was quite full afterward, but there was one thing we didn't get that he had his heart set on: nachos. At the end of the meal when we were all getting ready to go, I saw Truong up at the counter pointing at the menu, getting his wallet out and paying the cashier.

A few minutes later, he was handed a take-out bag.

He walked past me and said, "Ms. Marjorie, I ordered nachos to go." And then he turned and added, "Supreme."

The other day I had an extra menu on the front desk for an Italian restaurant my staff sometimes orders from at lunch. I saw him pouring over it when the rest of the class was signing yearbooks.

"What are you going to order today?" I asked him at the end of class.

"Pasta Arrabiata and Pizza Gorgonzola," he answered. I was so jealous.

The purpose of after-school clubs is for kids to find a place to belong, where they are pursuing an interest in something that other like-minded people share. It certainly worked for me.

A Few Updates

2010-06-02T22:41:00.000-07:00

Honestly, every day I have things to report and now Blogger is not blocked anymore. However, it was blocked for long enough that I got out of the habit of writing. But - not fair to keep all of you hanging about the T's mom...

Happy to report that she came back from the hospital on Thanh's birthday, after ten days of fever. The most I can understand about what was wrong was that she had a problem with her lung but that it is being treated with medicine. She now lies in a stretched out hammock most of the day. Thanh stayed by her side for the majority of the ten days, just monitoring her fever. On the day of her birthday, she was close to exhaustion and slept all day. She had mentioned to me a few weeks ago that she was interested in trying sushi, so Tarn, Katherine and I were able to whisk her away for dinner that night.

As with most other foods we have introduced her to, she didn't really care for it. She had no idea that sushi meant "raw" in most cases. She picked at the rolls and ate a little of the deep fried shrimp and avocado and kind of liked the miso soup, but overall I'm sure she is just fine with Vietnamese food. I find the quest and the disappointment amusing with her, but with anyone else I would probably be really annoyed. The fact that she hasn't tried many foods and shows interest is great - the fact that she doesn't like it when it's in front of her confuses me, because she is such a great cook and knows flavors so well.

As for Thuy, no honeymoon for her. At the stand at 4 every morning, setting up by herself, then to the hospital to be with her mother at night. Not one word of "why me" complaining, either. It would have been her third time out of Ho Chi Minh City in her entire life.

In other news: Our friends Steven and Sharon had their baby, Hazel, last weekend. Sharon had really battled to have her baby naturally in a country where having babies is not really something that involves personal choice of experience. Everyone gets drugged up, period. So that was a battle. And the day she was born - already a week late - Sharon experienced contractions in the morning so Steven took her to the hospital - on the motorbike. When she arrived, they told her she wasn't suppsed to come until Monday for her C-section...oh, wait, the appointment is Friday...when she told them, "I am having my baby now!" But they sent her home, saying it would still be hours. So they went home - on their motorbike. When they got home, the contractions started to come very quickly, so they turned around and went straight back to the hospital - on the motorbike, where Hazel arrived within just three hours. Sharon hopes for a better all-around experience next time.

As for me, I am finishing up saying goodbye to my 6th grade angels and starting to pack up my stuff. Every day, Katherine and I both lament and welcome the fact that we are going home. Like my dad said a few times - what a place of contrasts!

T and T's Mom

2010-05-23T08:18:00.000-07:00

Two days after the wedding, T and T's mom suffered some form of heat stroke and she has been in the hospital all weekend.

She did not make it to the evening ceremony on the day of the wedding - Thanh said she was "too tired." She has a hard time getting around and I'm not sure what her diagnosis is, but that was a very long day for her. Like I said, it was hot, and she had just a little bit of celebratory wine - something she never does - and her fever has been up and down ever since.

Thanh was supposed to run the fabric stand alone so that Thuy could go on her honeymoon to Hue; now, Thanh has been at the hospital since Friday night and Thuy - looking quite exhausted - is at the stand, getting up at 4:30 because she must set it up by herself.

I know we are constantly reminded how unfair life is, but this seems a little bit to the extreme of unfair to me. Please keep them all in your prayers.

The Reception and Dinner

2010-05-19T07:41:00.000-07:00

Vietnamese brides go through at least three dress changes during their wedding day - that's why you see Thuy in a white dress and a pink one in these reception pictures.

One minute she was wearing a beautiful white gown and the next she was in a pink princess dress. We're not sure how she slipped in and out of a dressing room so quickly, but I think she might just be a really good onstage performer.

Wedding receptions here seem to consist of coming, eating and leaving, which Katherine says is what the ants chant about the grasshoppers in the movie "Antz." "They come, they eat, they leave..."

That's basically what we did. The food was delicious - five courses - and the only one of us who was disturbed by the food at all was Katherine. After getting the baby pig's ear placed in her rice bowl, she began to comment upon a "'theme" in her life: getting undesirable animal parts at weddings (from a Western perspective, that is). Her fear stems from the only other wedding she went to in Vietnam, when a fish head was placed in her bowl. Tarn - only three months from turning from vegetarianism - took the hit, or took the baby pig's ear in this case - a favor he reminded her many times through the night that she "owed him for." (In the picture below, Tarn is perfecting his "blue steel" look).

Yeah, so after the five courses, we looked around and the two-hundred- or-so-guests began to disappear. There was no dancing, no lingering...after the female performer sang three songs up front and Thuy and Dung made their way around the tables toasting, we realized that the tables were empty. Maybe because it's such a long day for everyone.

Well, it's official, Thuy is married. For the first time her life, Thanh will go home without her sister - something that I can't think about too much. Thuy will still be at the fabric stand every day, but she no longer lives down the alley. I saw Thanh sort of linger saying goodbye to Thuy at the reception (right after this picture was taken of the six of us), but Thuy waved her on and just said, "go." I don't think they can think about it too much, either.

Tarn, Katherine and I agreed that this is a nice way to "go out." We all started this thing together, and we are all going our separate ways in less than a month. We are having a goodbye party at the castle on Saturday night. Time keeps on slipping into the future...

The Ceremony

2010-05-18T20:44:00.000-07:00

The ceremony began with Thuy waiting behind the deer curtain for Dung's family to come down the alley. When they arrived, Thuy's father - who looked so proud and handsome in his suit (I have only seen him in a tank top and shorts) greeted Dung's uncle who got permission for Dung' family to enter. Candles were lit and Thuy's father honored the ancestors, then the bridesmaids (is that what they're called?) came in with the traditional trays of fruits and beetlenuts.

Thanh and her mother then went behind the curtain and brought Thuy out - she had been dressed in her heavy ao dai for two hours already, just waiting - and then the other ceremonies took place: drinking of tea and Dung and Thanh putting earrings, necklace and bracelet on Thuy. Thuy's mother then joined their hands together...I love the somewhat blurry picture of this because it captures her jolliness - both she and her husband are such gracious and happy people.

Thanh looked especially gorgeous and was the perfect hostess - serving tea and drinks to everyone. I didn't get a chance to get my picture with them...the ceremony was quick and suddenly Thuy and Dung were heading down the alley to a taxi. Now they will go to Dung's house to host a lunch reception. I was invited to this, but opted to teach in the afternoon. Katherine, Tarn and I will attend the reception at a restaurant tonight at five.

This ceremony moved me - I am not a crier but I did cry when Thuy looked over at me and waved with such happiness before she reached up and wiped the streams of sweat from her new husband's face. This was about the same time I realized that the guest sitting next to me was their family rooster, kept in a cage underneath the fabric stand (I noticed him because he crowed right then), so it was a laugh/cry situation.

As I walked back to the castle, I got many nods and comments of approval from the women in the market, admiring my ao dai while smiling at me from under their conical bamboo hats. I am including a picture of Rita and me at Alison's wedding since I didn't get one today - I think I looked basically the same today...

Happy Birthday, Ho Chi Minh, and congratulations to my sister, Thuy~

The Morning of Thuy's Wedding

2010-05-18T18:19:00.000-07:00

Live coverage from Thuy's wedding, Nguyen Canh Chan neighborhood, morning of Ho Chi Minh's Birthday.

You can't get any more traditional than this...

I'll try to give a play by play of the day. I'm taking the morning off, putting on my ao dai and going with the rest of the neighborhood to witness Dung's family coming to Thuy's house where the official marriage will take place.

I ran over this morning and got to ascend the ladder to T and T's second story room, where Thanh was having make-up done and where I got to help snap Thuy up into her traditional red and gold ao dai. Thuy is giddy with joy and excitement today.

Their house has been cleared of fabric (the neighbors are storing it) and the refrigerator and sewing machine have been pushed to the back and all is covered by a curtain with a beaded picture of a deer and the traditional wedding altar.

Thanh has spent hours cleaning and putting up the traditional decorations: the name of both Thuy and Dung cut out in styrofoam on the wall and lots of paper streamers - like what we might do for a birthday party. Tables have been set up around the house to receive guests for the ceremony.

I have been coming over each night to share in all of the excitement. For two nights, T, T, Dung and T's mother and father and I have sat on the cool floor saying not much at all, drinking ice water to cut into the night's humidity.

That floor has become one of my favorite and most comfortable places in the world. Every time I round the corner and stick my head into that house, I am received like a queen. The only thing I am not excited for today is the heat - it's a hot one here in the city. Stay tuned!

Saigon Cowboys and More Saigon Souvenirs

2010-05-14T05:13:00.000-07:00

Katherine and I have experienced a lot together here in Saigon over these past two years, but we had not yet experienced a motorbike wreck caused by motorbike "cowboy" thieves. Now - unfortunately - we can add that to our list.

Thursday night we were coming home from a party at about 11 pm - Katherine on the back of my bike, holding her bag around her shoulder but close to her chest with both hands (like we have been taught). We had already manouevered around a construction zone with a fifteen foot pit, a bulldozer and a crumbled sidewalk. "Classic Saigon," I said to Katherine.

So we were riding pretty slowly down a busy street when suddenly I heard Katherine gasp and felt her weight shift dramatically. I had no idea what was happening but was trying to keep the bike balanced when I felt a final huge shift which sent the bike out of control. We were heading toward a parked taxi on the side of the road and in that cliche "slow motion moment," I knew I had the choice of crashing into the taxi or dumping the bike. I chose to dump the bike.

My first thought when we went down was that we were going to get hit by a motorbike coming from behind us, so both of us scrambled to the curb. A crowd of people surrounded us and this was the first time I understood what had happened. A pair of motorbike purse thieves - called "cowboys" - had ridden up beside us and had gone for Katherine's bag - even though she had been securely holding it against her chest. She had put up quite a battle and when they finally gave up and let go (they didn't get it from my strong Canadian friend) - that was the force that sent us flying.

The three men who stopped to help us were angels. They pulled my bike to the side (at first I thought one of them was going to steal it since this is another popular crime here and the keys were still in the ignition), gave me a wet tissue for my bleeding elbow, and after sitting with us for fifteen minutes as we calmed down, one of them took us to a nearby hospital to get checked. K had only a scraped knee, but I had hit the ground much harder on my left side and my arm was hanging kind of funny and I thought that maybe my ribs were broken. Short story - nothing broken, but I was in a lot of pain.

My mom's purse was stolen by a cowboy thief at Christmas as she crossed the street during a busy Christmas cruising night, and Alice's purse was stolen a month ago while she was on the back of a bike. A friend of ours saw a man get his camera bag slashed off of him, and his ribs were also slashed in the process. These guys are very hard to catch because of the nature of their crime. Every once in a while you will hear of someone going after one of them in a vigilante way and they will be cornered and taken in. This is definitely the dark side of Saigon, and it sure is sobering to realize that these people have absolutely no concern about injuring or even killing someone just to get a hold of a bag.

Thuy and Thanh, of course, were very concerned and told Katherine that she should have kicked them off their bike. Thanh sent me a text message that said, "You are my human hero, man!" which made me laugh in a way that really hurt my sore ribs. They also told me that these "cowboys" "smell heroin" - which - I'm guessing - translates to "sniff coke." Drug addiction explains a lot.

The good in Saigon definitely outweighs the bad by far, and we were very, very lucky the other night. But, I'm telling you, my legs are getting more and more ugly the longer I stay here. Now I have scrapes all down the left side of my body and three more bleeding knee scrapes to add to my two motorbike burns.

My legs are begging me to get the heck out of Saigon!

Thuy and Dung

2010-05-02T16:23:00.000-07:00

This is my beautiful Vietnamese sister, Thuy and her soon-to-be husband, Dung, the kind and handsome jeweler. Their wedding will take place on Wednesday, May 19th, on the morning of Ho Chi Minh's birthday.

Yesterday, Thuy took me over to her future home - where she will live with her mother and father-in-law and Dung's three older sisters in a two-story, two-room house. We drove over on the motorbike to pick up her engagement picture album. I wish I could display all sixty pictures here - they are both beautiful and culturally fascinating.

The wedding industry here is huge. It is tradition to go to a "wedding shop" months before your wedding to have pictures taken. None of the dresses - nor the jewerly - are Thuy's; brides go there to have make-up done and to be dressed up, and somewhere along the way, the grooms insert themselves into this series of sentimental shots, most with backgrounds of classic Vietnam scenery (and sometimes with guitars that they don't play): Notre Dame Cathedral, the shores of the beach resort Nha Trang, and Lover's Lake of Dalat.

Don't you wish you could see them all?

Thuy has been walking on a cloud for the past month - it's really fun to see her so happy. And I will wear the same ao dai I wore to Alison's wedding and take the morning of Ho Chi Minh's birthday off so I can witness the marriage of my very good, loyal friend.

Ah - Back in the Hood

2010-05-02T08:54:00.000-07:00

This pretty breakfast is called banh cuon; the white noodles below the fried bread, cucumbers, basil, crunchy onions and red pepper are made from steamed rice flour sheets. I had a double breakfast today, heading straight for this after a rice cake starter.

In the picture below, you can see the round pot that is topped with linen... the sheets are steamed and then lifted off the linen with a little bamboo stick. Some banh cuon - like this one - is then filled with a mixture of ground pork and wood ear mushrooms, rolled up and cut into chunks. Of course, the whole thing is covered with nuoc cham, the fish sauce, lime and red pepper sauce that makes everything even better.

In the past two years I have traveled in Laos, Cambodia, Thailand, The Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia and - of course - extensively through Vietnam. All of this Southeast Asia traveling has confirmed one thing for me: I chose the right place to live for this adventure. Vietnam wins in so many categories.

I love Vietnam. I love the way it moves, the way it smells, and - of course - I love the way it tastes. I love its people, its coziness and its craziness. Mostly, though - love for a place equals a whole lot of intagible qualities all tangled up together.

The food here isn't as diverse as in Malaysia, but I love the sweet aspect that is absent in so many cuisines, and I also appreciate the freshness. Everything is made right in front of you, even though oftentimes you wish they had done some of it ahead of time because of the wait required.

Anyway, it's good to be back~I think it will always feel good to be back.

The Doctor and The Man

2010-04-29T19:30:00.001-07:00

I am heading back to Saigon tomorrow. I miss Saigon. Yes, the food of Malaysia has drawn me in, but I sure am glad I don't eat this way all the time. I would be soooo fat- because the food is rich and oily, in addition to being legendary. I am at an internet cafe back in Kuala Lumpur, hiding from the rain again, listening to Neil Diamond, wondering if they really love him here, or is it just coincidence that I have heard five of his songs within six days? Also, the theme to "Chariots of Fire" plays everywhere.

So while I wait for the rain to pass, I will tell you about two characters I met this week. They were my "favorite" in retrospect - in that while I interacted with them, I was thinking about writing about them, and that's the only way I kept my patience in each situation:

My favorite character of the week was Dr. Cheong Fung, the wine-medicine maker and masseuse that I escaped to during part of one (of four) days of rain this week while walking through Chinatown in Penang. He led me through a shopfront "owned by Pakistanis who do business without money" into his tiny little house where his wife was making dinner for their son.

He spoke a very broken-English stream of consciousness, but he added "I know that you don't believe me" very clearly at the end of each sentence. Such as:

"My son," he said (within hearing distance of his son), "He eighteen. He no interested in my medicine. He think he know everything. Very stupid boy. I know that you don't believe me."

"I healed a woman who couldn't walk. I know that you don't believe me."

"You should take up tai chi. A big, tall woman like you (I was twice his size), it would make you strong. From here (he pointed to his core). I know that you don't believe me."

"I healed a man that was struck by lightning. I know that you don't believe me."

"I have had diabetes for twenty years. I married and had my son when I was 55. I know that you don't believe me."

"The government no believe my medicine. They try stop me. They jealous. They send people after me. I know that you don't believe me."

"I am 75 years old. I know that you don't believe me." And then he had me squeeze his shoulder blade and punch him in the gut to show me just how strong a 75 year-old man could be. I said, "Wow," but actually, I have no idea how strong a 75 year-old man can be.

And my favorite:

"Most Americans don't like Obama because (then he broke into a whisper) he is black." He looked at me for my response to this shocking news. "I know that you don't believe me."

"Um," I finally interrupted, "Americans elected Obama by voting."

At this he stopped and looked at me as if surprised he had a speaking client, and then continued on. "I loved president Kennedy. Do you know him? They killed him. It was conspiracy. I know that you don't believe me..."

As I left, I said to the doctor, "I believe everything you told me" - just to see how he would react. He didn't. He just stared at me blankly.

"Tell people you meet about me," he called after me. And he didn't add anything to the end of that sentence.

In second (last) place: Azhar, my replacement rent-a-friend on Penang Island. I had chatted with a roly-poly, friendly guy named Lee at a travel agency the night before and liked him instantly. I liked him so much that I asked him if it would be possible to pay him to take me around the island on his motorbike (I had tried to rent on my own, but didn't bring my license with me and Malay policy, unlike Indonesian policy, is seemingly very strict on this matter). He lit up when I said I wanted to "see the island and taste some local food." I could just tell that Lee would be my food guy. He said he would really like to, but that he had to check with his boss. "No one has ever asked to see the island by motorbike," he told me.

When I showed up the next morning, Lee introduced me to Azhar, presumably the owner. "He's going to take you around," he said, and he looked and sounded disappointed. I was, too, because the first thing Azhar said to me was "I know exactly where I will take you" in a very dominant way. For every easy going Muslim man like Lee, there seemed to be three hard core, in-charge know-it-alls like Azhar. The contrast in Malaysia seems pretty severe.

"Um, well, I already know exactly where I want to go, so I will tell you," I said, and showed him on the map the area with the national park and the local village in the middle of the island. "I don't want to do anything touristy." But I could tell he wasn't listening.

The first place we stopped was a touristy "Spice Farm." Of course, it sounded a little bit interesting, being about spices, so I went ahead and bought a ticket, even though I knew I shouldn't have.

At the beginning of our "garden tour," Azhar stopped at an English description of a fern tree, read it silently, then translated it for me in his heavily accented English. I just looked at him incredulously and wanted to tell him that, actually, I could read and understand English. But I didn't say anything.

"This tree is from the fern family," he said. Which is what it said on the placard.

"Hmmmm..." I answered. Suddenly I felt very, very tired.

We crossed a bridge that went over a little stream and Azar pointed down to the stream. "That water comes from up there," he said, then pointed up to a little waterfall. I was having flashbacks of Nam at the castle doorstep grabbing corn on the cobb and showing me that it needed to be peeled before being eaten. Streams come from waterfalls? Imagine!

We passed a few plants that had no placards and when asked, Azhar had no idea what kind of flora any of it was. Then we came upon a platform with a swing that had ropes reaching high into the treetops. "Look," said Azhar, "it swings from way up there. It's a fun swing! It's a tree swing!"

I had had enough. "Azhar, I don't want to be here. I told you I didn't want to do anything touristy and this is very touristy. I could do this on my own if I wanted to."

"I see," he said. So we got back on the bike and who did we see enjoying a huge plate of food at a little hawker stand on our way out? Lee. He waved to me and I waved longingly back as Azhar whisked me away to our next tourist destination: a pier with boats that rowed out to a fishing village. "Do you want to go to the fishing village?" he asked.

"Azhar, listen to me. I don't want to do anything touristy. I just want to see the island and eat local food. I don't want to do anything touristy."

I guess it took Azhar three times to hear things because he finally nodded and said, "Oh! OK, why didn't you say that back at the agency?"

"I did."

"I want to give the customer what they want, so you should have just told me what you wanted."

"I did."

Well, he did drive me around, and as long as he wasn't talking, he was an OK motorbike driver. We did stop in town and eat at a local Malay restaurant, which was good, but that required me to have a fifteen-minute conversation with him. Which wasn't good, and which I really don't even care to record here.

Believe me.

The Legendary Food I Ate Today

2010-04-27T06:42:00.000-07:00

I started my day with THE Penang specialty, Assam Laksa soup. Looking back, it was my favorite taste of the day, but each dish I tried after that made me waver on that decision momentarily.

Because:

The food in Penang is legendary.

Laksa broth is made from mackerel, which is poached, deboned and then joined by lemongrass, chilies and tamarind. The noodles are thick vermicelli, and after those are placed in the bowl, they are topped with lettuces, cucumber, onions, pineapple and fresh mint. On top of all of this, a spoonful of shrimp paste is placed on top for you to mix in yourself.

When I say that everything is represented here, it's in a Sweet, Sour, Spicy, Crunchy kind-o-way. Unforgettable. I would eat this every day for the rest of the week, at least. Cost = $1.

Next came Hokkien Mee, or "prawn noodle." This soup has a thick pork and prawn base and is garnished with water spinach, hard boiled eggs, shrimp, slices of pork and crispy shallots. The same spoonful of paste is placed across the bowl as mentioned above, but this one is filled with chili paste for a little more spice.

I adored this soup. Please, oh please, Malaysian restaurant in Seattle, please carry these two soups!

Cost: $1

I am nuts about the won ton soup in my neighborhood - just ask my family about it, because they got hooked on it, too.

So when I read about Wan Tan Mee, I had to carry my won ton competition to another country. I chose to have mine dry, like in the picture - but you can also have it as soup.

The dry form is served over thick soy sauce and you can toss it up as you like. Mine - which I waited for for at least 45 minutes at a hopping roadside stand - was topped with one fried won ton and two dumpling won tons and a row of delicious barbecued pork.

For dessert, I had cendool. The beans are thick and sweetened red beans, and the green worms are made from starch and the coloring comes from the pandan leaf. The syrup is made from coconut milk and is sweetened with palm sugar to give it an almost-coffee taste. All of this is served over shaved ice.

And what did I do during my three hours intervals in between meals? I saw the town - museums, old colonial mansions and state buildings and forts. I hid from the rain in my hotel where I watched a really stupid movie, and then hid from the rain some more with a 75 year-old Chinese healer who massaged his secret wine sauce into my wrists after he told me he had cured a man with it who was struck by lightning. I'll let you know if my wrist pain goes away.

Oh, and a confession: I also had chicken curry in Little India. It was delicious, but I knew that I wanted to try the wan tan mee, so I ate only half of it and only one piece of naan (I can exercise self-control in these situations). So I left with the deliberate thought, "No one will ever know about this..."

Well, I was wrong. I was sitting there eating my wan tan mee beside the road when a man I did not recognize approached my table. "You didn't like the chicken curry at the restaurant?" he asked, a little confused.

I had been caught, red-handed, slurping an egg noddle. "Um, no, I mean, yes, I liked it a lot," I answered as I wiped soy sauce from my chin. How could I explain my odd behavior to this man, who, probably like everyone else in that restaurant, had seen the light-haired foreigner leave half of her chicken?

"Why did you leave it?" There it was.

"I wanted this, too?" I said, smiling sheepishly.

The man belly laughed and said, "Good, good!" and went away.

Can't wait for another day in Penang~

(I got all of these pictures on the internet - they are better than mine!)