My Day with The Doctor

Despite my early morning efforts, a lack of piracy skills unfortunately rendered me unable to watch ‘The Day of The Doctor’ bright and early as planned. In order to compensate somewhat for this, and enable me to manage my grief, I decided to spend my very own ‘Day with The Doctor’.

Feeling the weight of my disappointment, I returned to bed, hoping to re-start the day with a little more success.

We awoke on Sunday the 24^th of November, planet Hanoi of the Vietnam System, kick starting the day the only way I knew how – a quick visit to the smoothie lady. Had I known what events were to follow, I may have selected a slightly stronger poison.

Fruity goodness consumed, we proceeded to school, with the intention of shaping a few young Vietnamese minds. The legends of The Time Lords is a topic often neglected in these parts.

Looking back now, I can see that the signs were there. I try to excuse myself on the grounds that the morning’s disappointment had blunted my vigilance, but no matter the excuse, no matter the perspective, I myself, am partly to blame.

They came in the night, they hid in the water . Innocently seeking hydration the children were taken, consumed by the alien life forms and left as no more than  than mindless shells, vessels for the purpose of evil. An unstoppable force.

Before we had realised what had happened, the Doctor was captured. Terrorised and mauled by these conscienceless creatures. Fortunately, using an  infallible combination of wit, charm and a sonic screw driver in a way only The Doctor can, he managed to escape their grasp.

We retired to lunch to regroup and consider our options.

Despite our superior combination of converse and quick wit, we knew this was a battle we could not fight alone. The enemy was too strong, the risks were too high. We were left with only one option; it was time to rally the troops.

He spoke with elegance and urgency. His words opened our eyes to the truth, we saw that cowardice was not an option. All were aware of the risks we were to face that day, victory was essential, to fail would be to lose everything. The fate of Hanoi had fallen on our shoulders.

A peaceful resolution was our aim, violence is never in the Doctor’s nature. The plan was a little hazy – ‘dehydration guns!’ he’d exclaimed… the rest I assumed we’d piece together along the way.

The time came and we prepared for battle.

Guns in hand we stormed the school gates, then divided to take the enemy from all sides. The numbers were against us, the opposition was confident, but there was one thing they hadn't considered…

We had the Doctor.

Victory was a distant destination. One by one we sucked the hydro-bound creatures from the students, rendering them limp and lifeless on the floor. As we took on the masses, The Doctor went straight for the source. Destroying their leader with one fateful flush.

Victory secured, we turned our attention to the children, restoring them with a single sip of water.

The day was long, the battle was hard – finally it was time to go home, grab a cuppa, perch on the edge of my undersized plastic stool and watch The Day of The Doctor.

Wee wooooo wee woo woooo…..

I am the quiz master

I figured we might be due a little up date. 

Here's a bunch of adorable little faces to kick start the action (I of course include myself in that summary)...

 

 

Fun fact: the word 'tim' in Vietnamese means heart <3 

- HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIMOTHY GEORGE WALKER.

No prizes for guessing my favourite student in this motley crew. 

As a teenager I often claimed the excuse that it was not my fault but that a certain teacher simply 'did not like me', clinging to an underlying belief that in actual fact teachers were bound to some secret oath to regard each student equally. In reality I have come to realise that this is definitely not the case. I hate kids.

That's obviously a joke. I only hate a select few.

I'm not sure if I'm still joking or not...

Anyway, the answer is middle, back row. The one making a fist. Goes by the name 'factory'. We often begin the morning by comparing muscles and monster impressions. Who needs language, eh?

Speaking of being lost in translation, as you know I recently moved into my house which is situated by a delightful small-medium sized body of water. (Without further research into the regulations, I am hesitant to categorise it as either a pond or lake). Either way, its wet and there's fish. There's a fair few eateries around said wet-area, I am making it my aim to visit each one. However I've realised that my grasp of the Vietnamese language is not quite what I thought it was and with one slightly misguided intonation I managed to order what appeared to be snail soup as opposed to the beef which I had intended! As Timone and Pumba once said, 'slimy, yet satisfying!' 

I think I'm going to try dog. Just putting that out there.

There's also a 'Bia Hoi' (specialises in home brewed beer for around 20p a glass) approximately 100 metres from my house, I promise this had no influence what so ever over my choice of living arrangements ;). Last night I headed home early from our weekly teacher's drink as I wasn't feeling too good. Feeling slightly hungry on route I stopped at said Bia Hoi for a bite to eat. I was tired and confused by the menu, this must have been evident on my face as I was invited to join 3 business men at their table for a meal. Ordering for me, I was soon presented with an entire boiled chicken (head and feet included) and some fish on skewers. The fish were literally that, tiny cooked fish with a skewer affectionately driven down their throats. Teeth and eyes still in place. Tasted great! They went on to inform me that the fish were incredibly fresh, pointing to a large tank behind them. Doesn't get much fresher than that! Conversation was interesting and mostly focussed on the declining shipping trade of Vietnam, along with the recent death of a Vietnamese military general? Should probably look into that. 

 

 

Teachers out for the weekly drink at 'Dog Meat' - boasting dog served in seven different ways. Don't worry, we don't eat here, just drink whilst some pet their rather ironic pet dog.

Sunday is the new Friday.

 

 

 

No idea why this picture is horizontal. Let's just roll with it. 

As I mentioned in my last email, (I think) the rain here is pretty awesome. And with a combination of my love of walks in the rain and the park across the street from me, we spent a great Monday afternoon in Hanoi. 

 

 

The women's museum is the most interesting place I've visited in the city thus far, in contrast to getting a pedicure (when in Rome) which is definitely not my thing. Hopefully going to visit the prison tomorrow, which should be another eye opening ordeal. Night time roller blading in the park is on the agenda for tonight, In my head I'm going to be as elegant and professional as I believed I was as a seven year old. In reality, I'm not entirely sure my health insurance covers such extreme sports?

After visiting the pub quiz two weeks ago we befriended the owner 'Jez', A fifty year old rocker from Manchester, depressingly the person I've met that I have the most in common with in Hanoi. Me and Olivia will be running the quiz tomorrow evening, with the wage of free food and drink all night. I've promised to rein in the Dr Who focus with a broader 'scfi' round. Should be fun. The pub itself feels a lot like stepping back into the West from the chaotic streets of Nam. Its one of the many places where the midnight curfew is overlooked by bribing the policemen who instead of closing the place down, often join us for a drink!

Anyway, I fear I've rambled for too long as I'm now sat in the dark on my roof terrace. I'm off for another food finding adventure before my skating come back.

It was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

A quick update from 'Nam :) After nearly three weeks in the trenches ('Friendly Backpacker's Hostel') I have just this very morning moved into my own house. 'Is this the house in the pictures below?' I hear you ask, why yes, yes it is. Feast your eyes for visual nourishment upon these delightful scenes...

 

 

 

 

 

The roof is my favourite :) My room is your generic, white room with nice big wardrobe and en-suite. So excited to finally be saying GOODBYE SUITCASE!! Living at the hostel was fun and I met some pretty cool people, but as most people just stay one or two nights it was pretty difficult to feel as though I was really settling in. There are two other rooms in the house, one is currently taken by a man from Denmark whom I am yet to meet, all I have seen so far are his ridiculously huge shoes. With an average height of 150 cm over here this guy must feel like a giant amongst men! Wonder how he'd take to being called Hagrid? Aaaanyway, he moves out on the 1st and then I just await the arrival of 'mystery guests'. - last two words to be read in the voice of an enthusiastic 90's game show host, ideally Roy Walker.

My landlady is awesome. Grandma and Granddad living right next door. Their grandson often bridges the waves of translation, but when he's not around, me and Granny amuse our selves with miming, pointing and laughter.

So far between work and sorting living arrangements I haven't had a great deal of time for exploring. I went to Tam Coc last week, took a boat ride down the river before cycling through the village. Also, visited the ancient capital of Hanoi on route.

Teaching is fun, not sure how much longer I'll enjoy it for though. Nursery children are terrifying. Although, my favourite class is made up of 7 horrendously behaved 4 year old boys and 1 cryer. The wuss can't even handle losing a game of musical bumps! Don't worry though, I'll toughen him up in no time. I tend to amuse myself by winding them up and watching them go whilst the teaching assistants run round in despair. It took us a whole 2 hours to learn the colour 'brown', and I can honestly say that has no negative reflection on my teaching skills!

I guess the thing that stands out the most in city life here is the roads. 95% of people have motor bikes and from what I can gather very few of them have licences. As I am clearly to cool to engage in this cultural phenomenon I myself have invested in a good old fashioned bicycle, pictured below. Just kidding. About the picture I mean, the bicycle bit is true. It might not have gears and the seat may well be made of solid rock, but my gosh does it have one fashionable basket! ;) 

 

 

So yeah, bikes are a pretty central part of life here and you pretty much see everything from wardrobes and trees to families of five on the back of them. 

 

 

Not forgetting the goldfish!

In the beginning...

I've recently come to the realisation that I worry too much about the future. To the extent that I barely noticed that in the reality of the here and now, I've moved to Viet Nam.

 I mean, of course I made the decision and I took action to get here, but in a way it feels more like the decision was out of my hands, I just followed the inevitable unravelling of events.I keep thinking back over the past year trying to pin point how or why I ended up here. I have no idea. Maybe I just didn’t want to become one of those people who say they have all of these ‘dreams’ and goals, but never actually do anything about it.  Maybe I’m that scared of getting stuck in another dead end job that I just didn’t want to stop moving long enough to be sucked in. The frustration of being painfully aware of each second that passes, as you’re stuck on a loop serving the same customer, marginally different weight problem. ‘Would you like to go large, sir?’ Of course you would. Soul destroying.

 Somehow all of this stemmed from that post university depression that most students get. The moment when reality hits and you realise we’re in a recession, most people have a degree anyway and you’re heading straight back to that same job you hated in college. You know the one, the one that motivated you to try and better yourself and go to university in the first place? Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with these jobs, some people love them. They come with a certain freedom in being able to go home at the end of the day and genuinely escape. We'll come back to this I'm sure. But for now, a brief rambling written in my first few days in 'Nam...

Day one, I’m at lunch in a Chinese restaurant, first day induction at work to follow, when some Vietnamese guy comes and sits with me. ‘Are you from England?’ ‘Yes, yes I am.’ Turns out the guy spent 5 years studying in Manchester, and now here I am in his city. Small world cliché. After some small talk he offers to show me around the city, we exchange numbers and he returns back to his banker’s dinner date. Work induction was nothing worth noting, just paper signing, everyone seems lovely. Anyway, later that evening I get a text from lunch guy asking if I want to go for dinner and drinks the following night. Being concerned that this sounded a lot like a date, I did what most girls would do, confer with my on-call consulting team. Feedback: 95% probability that this is intended to be a date. Despite this (and with the standard stranger safety warnings) they advised me to go and just make it clear that to me, it was not a date. So with the ‘you’re in a new country, no harm in meeting new people’ attitude I decided to go.

Day two, mission: open a bank account. Definitely took longer than intended. Spent most of the day walking around in search of food as my lack of Vietnamese makes interaction challenging.I eventually admitted defeat at around 4pm and went into a café to get a drink. Obviously, same communication difficulties apply so I went for the point and hope technique. Damn lactose intolerance. This tea was not to be tolerated. Found myself faced with quite the moral dilemma. For the record, you can’t drink around the milk. Ready to give up on life, I got a motorbike taxi and headed to the bank. Best decision ever. Buying a motor bike will be my midlife crisis. Bank account successfully opened, followed by one more motorbike ride and the day is looking up. 

It definitely was a date. Oops. Started out with a traditional northern Vietnamese meal and sufficient mocking of my chopstick skills, then after a few drinks in this pub we moved to a club. My first Asian clubbing experience. You know the theory that if you keep trying beer you’ll eventually like it? 5^th September 2013 – the day the prophecy came to be. Apparently most people aren't too fond of Vietnamese beer, for the equivalent of £1.30, I'm a fan.

Oh yeah, and I moved into a shared dorm today. So far, not so much sharing. Well, apart from the ant population in the bathroom that is.

Day three. So yesterday ended up being pretty expensive, I’m considering giving up drinking in order to conserve funds. Bold move, I know. But it’s a definite money drainer and I’d rather be able to afford trips and such. Wonder how long this will last?

Observed my first class today, ‘kindy’ (little kids) level. They’re adorable. This is going to be hilarious. When showing the kids a picture of a boy on a bike in their books, Collette (teacher) said ‘Now we’re going to listen to what he says’ one kid held the book to his ear and looked confused. Like I said, adorable.

Dorm became more shared as a girl from America and another from China joined me.

Day 4, Sunday. Attempted to go to church, got lost and gave up. Got so stressed out in the heat that every taxi guy on a motor bike that yelled ‘motorbike?’ I took to mean ‘hey, white girl, you are obviously lost/need help/are naive and scam-able – come here!’ and so was met with scowl. To be fair, it usually is what they mean. Anyway, after that failure I gave up and headed back to the room.

More lesson observations in the afternoon, the rain on route was awesome! Bikes riding through knee deep floods, roads closed, people walking bare foot because the odds of shoe survival were slim to none… and the best thing about it all was that come 6pm, the city was back to its usual humid, smoggy self. Not a drowned dog in sight.

Sunday is the new Friday. After a work filled weekend (for them) we headed across the road for drinks. Chilling on plastic chairs with a 30 pence pint in the street? There’s definitely a thing or two we could learn from these pros. Safe to say, my no drinking plan lasted less than 48 hours, anyone surprised?

Day 5, viewed my first house. Loved it. Only problem is it’s an hour and a half walk from work. The agent was trying to convince me to hire a moped from her to travel on! Price for the house started at $400 per month, has just dropped to $180, and I'm pretty sure she’d throw her grandma in if she thought It’d sweeten the deal.

I promise my next entry will be more coherent.