Katy's Asia Adventures (plus Mexico!)

A haphazard chronicle of my inevitable misadventures during a year in Vietnam and points east.

p.s. I'll be pitifully grateful if you send me email during my exile: TravelerKaty@hotmail.com

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Saturday, December 14, 2002
 
This morning I got picked up at the crack of dawn (7:00am -- I have a very low tolerance for early) by Mr. Lanh's motorbike driver in order to volunteer at his weekend English school for poor kids.

It was during this morning drive that I learned that speaking Vietnamese can lead a person into Actual Physical Danger. After a few quiet blocks just sitting on the back of the bike, I decided to try out a few phrases I've learned over the past 2 weeks of classes, as I do with pretty much every driver, waiter or salesperson I encounter.

Big mistake.

By speaking in Vietnamese (a very simple and no doubt poorly pronounced "what is your name"), you would have thought I breached the Grand Coulee Dam of Small Talk. For the next 40 blocks the comments and questions just poured out of my driver, generally offered while craning his neck around to look me in the face while addressing me. Let's just think about that for a moment -- he felt compelled to make eye contact with me while we were on a motorbike at 25 mph threading our way through hundreds of other motorbikes.

I, meanwhile, cannot understand a single word he is saying, and between involuntary gasps of terror I am trotting out my most useful phrases: "once more slower please," I don't understand yet," and "I study Vietnamese but I only understand a little". He was so intent on asking me elaborate questions and gesturing wildly that I began to wonder if he even knew where we were headed. Was he asking my advice?

Thankfully, he eventually wrote me off as a motorbike conversationalist, and we completed the remainder of our journey in blissful silence. Whew.

?2002 Katy Warren


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