Gym etiquette [rant]

I finally found this gym I like. It's called Gold Sport on 3/2 Street not too far from my house. A straight shot up Le Hong Phong and I'm there. It makes working out a lot more convenient not having to drive down the length of 3/2, make my way round the nasty traffic circle at CMT8 and then veer into the decent, but dilapidated Lan Anh Fitness Center. It was hard to leave after three years there, but change is good. Soooo good. And I don't miss it at all.

So here I am now at this new gym, closer to my house and cheaper too not to mention the new equipment and lack of crowds. Before noon anyway. But there are some things that are annoying at gyms. And gym etiquette is one of them. Wiping your sweat from a machine is one thing and not grunting is another, but that rarely happens here, which is nice. I'm talking about keeping your eyes to yourself and not making unnecessary conversation.

First of all, if you're in the locker room making idle chit chat, get the fuck outta there. We all know you're waiting for someone to take off their shorts so you can get an eyeful. And while we're in the locker room, those dumb asses that light up a cigarette after their workout, are you really that cool? I'm breathing that shit too, you inconsiderate fuck.

But what I really wanted to talk about was commentary on other people's bodies. It'd be one thing if a massive roided out beast said to me Hey bruh, you put a little size on and you'd be one mean looking fucker. I'd respect that enough. Thanks man, I'm over trying to look like a mean looking fucker, but I know what you're saying and I appreciate the advice. Ain't gonna happen though.

Instead I get this little dickface saying Hey man, are you trying to get bigger? No, I'm not. Well, I think if you gained some more weight you'd look better. You think? No shit, Sherlock. I'm a thin dude and in an ideal world, I'd be a few more kilograms. But this isn't an ideal world. And I don't want those few extra kilos sitting in my gut. I've finally accepted that this is my natural body shape and there isn't much I can do about it. Nothing naturally anyway. And now I gotta sit and listen to advice from an 18 year old twat?

And today, two days later, some old wrinkled nutsack strikes up a conversation and lo and behold, we're both from California! As if that in and of itself makes us friends. Nice enough guy until he rushes to my aid on my 12th rep of incline dumbbell press and acting like he saved me says Why are you lifting so heavy? I just did eleven reps you washed up wank, know what you're talking about before you open your hole.

And then he comes back to tell me I should gain weight. You're too skinny for your height. Well old man, no offense, but you're too fat for your 5 foot frame and you're not lifting heavy enough! I'm not the strongest man in the gym, but far from the weakest and here I have the weakest shit-for-brains giving me advice. I just don't understand.

I eat more, I get a fat belly. Simple as that. I work out more, I gain weight and put on mass everywhere. I don't want more weight everywhere. I don't want to buy new clothes. I work out more, my body hurts more. I know my body. You don't so zip it. Simple concept. I've learned that having an ideal body isn't sustainable. I don't want to go to the gym four times a week for the rest of my life. I want to take vacations and not do shit. Let my body go. When I come back to reality I'll get back to where I was. Or somewhere close.

So, hey, if you see me in the gym, just speak to me normally. Say what's up. But don't give me any free advice. Wipe up your sweat, don't grunt too often, share the machines, don't linger in the locker rooms, don't stare at people in the mirrors and don't tell people what they should be doing or what's best for them when you obviously haven't got a clue as to what's best for you. You don't tell a fat dude he'd look better if he was thinner do you? He knows that shit. So keep it to yourself.

30 Signs Vietnam is rubbing off on you

I was going to talk about getting rubbed off on and then I decided against it. I'll try to stick to the topic, which is 30 signs Vietnam is rubbing off on you. 30 signs you, as a foreigner, are becoming one with Vietnam. Or are embracing the culture. Or have been here too long. However you want to look at it. This is not meant to offend - I'll say that upfront. And there are plenty of other 'signs' but my brain hurts and I don't want to think about this anymore.

Let's begin...

1. You eat boiled peanuts. Enough said, but I'll say more. You eat them and you love them. You still like roasted or fried salty nuts, but you'll go out of your way to get a bag of these soft, relatively flavorless nuts. Somehow you think this variety is aiding your digestion.

2. You are no longer concerned with your salt intake. You put chili salt on your fruit and soy sauce on everything else and no longer ask to hold the msg. In fact, you only ever asked one time. Don't ask, don't tell!

3. You don't know what the environment is anymore. You probably throw away a dozen plastic bags every day not to mention plastic cups and styrofoam containers. Reusable container? WTF is that?

4. You don't think twice about occasionally picking your nose in public. It's nice to be less self-conscious again. And picking and flicking is somehow rather enjoyable. Almost magical when you get it right.

5. You're surprised to actually get a napkin in a restaurant and not something that resembles single-ply toilet paper if you're lucky - bits of which can be found in your stubble after wiping your face.

6. You want to use chopsticks even with your fried rice. A spoon? Don't give me that shit. You're in Vietnam and you're eating Vietnamese food so you'll use those fuckin' sticks even if you're only getting a few grains of rice with each bite.

7. You see a hair in your food and you just shrug your shoulders. Hair happens. Besides, you know if you do complain about it, they're just going to shrug their shoulders.

8. You know how to cross the street. Sometimes you close your eyes and other times you raise your arm over your head for maximum visibility, just to mix it up. You never assume everybody sees you, but you walk confidently and never show fear.

9. It doesn't phase you when public toilets have neither soap nor towels. Your hands are as clean as the next guys. A little cold water does the trick for sure. You're convinced those studies showing fecal contamination under ultra-violet light were paid for by the soap industry.

10. You love the bum hose. Not because of the tickle in your anus, but because that shit works. You might be splashing E. coli all over the place, but you are cleaning your bum in ways that toilet paper cannot. And indirectly you are saving trees.

11. You honk for fun. As you're entering the street from an alley or approaching someone from behind or in the middle of an empty street. It's just plain fun to beep the horn. Beep beep!

12. You yell at people for having their lights on during the day. You idiot! Save that electricity. And occasionally you yell at people for having their kickstand down and look at them like they've just left the baby on the roof of the car.

13. You walk around your neighborhood shirtless trying to blend in. It's hot, why should you be the only one getting wet and stinky under the arms? If not completely shirtless, you pull it up to expose your belly while drinking an iced coffee.

14. You wear your helmet into shops and pharmacies when you know it's going to be a quick transaction. Total waste of time to unclick it and hang it on the hook. Besides, you'd have to fix your hair.

15. You start cutting people off in line and don't feel guilty about doing it. In fact, you rarely even form a line anymore. Just kind of nudge in from the side and pretend like you were there all along.

16. You have a really long nail on one of your fingers and you don't really even know its purpose. Sometimes you put it in your ear, sometimes in your nose, but for the most part you just think it's cool.

17. You think you can sing really well. You enjoy singing karaoke and occasionally burst into song whether in the supermarket, gym or in the classroom. You're good so naturally nobody minds listening to you.

18. You have an iPhone. You traded in that 500k vnd Nokia a long time ago. You take it out and use it whenever possible and upload pics of yourself using it to Facebook every day.

19. You don't look left when you're turning right. You don't even slow down. What's the point? Slowing down and accelerating again just wastes petrol.

20. If you've missed your turn - instead of turning at the next convenient location - you stop in the middle of traffic and inconvenience everybody else. Everybody else is doing it! It doesn't matter if you have to inch across two lanes of heavy traffic and endanger yourself and others, you're saving time.

21. When the elevator opens you squeeze on with complete disregard for the people getting off as you know you might not otherwise get on. You don't even feel selfish or inconsiderate anymore. Just fucking smart.

22. You answer your cell phone while teaching and discuss plans for the evening in front of your students. And leave your ring tone on and occasionally check and send messages while they're practicing in pairs. It's called multitasking.

23. When taking the stairs, which is a very rare occasion, you tend to walk on the wrong side of the stairwell or in the middle and go at a leisurely pace. Not to piss people off, but just to say you 'exercised' a little bit longer.

24. You laugh when anybody speaks English with a different accent than yours. It's funny because it's not tuh-mey-toh or tuh-mah-toh, it's fucking TUH-MEY-TOH. So naturally you correct them. And if by chance, you can't understand them, you pretend to do so you don't lose face.

25. Your helmet was purchased on the side of the road for less than $5. And the strap is really loose, but you like your forehead exposed so you can show off your receding hairline.

26. When you have to pee, you utilize the nearest dry wall or the closest bridge. No sense in actually asking for a public toilet. It might smell or have cockroaches. And it definitely won't have any soap - not that you're concerned about that.

27. You actually believe that playing basketball will make you taller. You don't play yourself because as a foreigner you're already too tall, but you do think there's some logic to that theory.

28. Orange oranges, yellow bananas and yellow lemons look funny. Oh and sweet mangoes taste funny. And when someone says lime, you say oh you mean lemon? Same same.

29. You drink Heineken. Because that Tiger shit gives you a headache. And because you are of a higher class. That SH will be yours soon!

30. In the past, you hated when Vietnam won an important football match. That meant the streets were full of idiots, honking even more excessively than normal, driving recklessly and endangering the lives of everyone around them. Now you embrace it - you are one with the storm driving without a helmet, yelling, pulling u-turns in the middle of busy streets and waving the flag in the overwhelmingly toxic air. Go Vietnam!

The helpfulness of others

Sometimes people try too hard to be helpful and it's annoying. I just wish they knew. Maybe I had low blood sugar. I was waiting in line for food after all, waiting impatiently for the lady who knew I was waiting impatiently while she took her sweet time pretending to do more important things, which clearly didn't include helping the customer. Finally, I said what I wanted -- some of that fake meat over there, some of them stir-fried vegetables, some of that soggy brown jackfruit, some of that sour green stuff and a few spring rolls for good measure. All tasty treats by the way.

Then this French Vietnamese guy asks me in English if I speak French. No, I don't. And then he asks if he can help me with something. I just ordered, bro. He was standing there when the lady was filling my environmentally-unfriendly styrofoam container. Does it look like I just got off the boat trying to escape the economic crisis in America? Then he proceeds to tell me this is a vegetarian restaurant. Really? I mean, I know the dude didn't know I'd been there every week over the course of the past couple years, but c'mon man. I can see the trays of food on display and it's pretty obvious that none of them are really meat even if half of them are trying their best to resemble it.

So after doing my best to ignore his efforts to prove he could speak English well, I forked over the cash and intentionally pocketed the change before turning to leave so I could also ignore the obnoxious beggars with their upturned conical hats and fake smiles hoping to charm the foreigner into throwing them some dong. I'm not against giving, I'm really not. I just have something against these particular clowns. And if you saw them, you'd know what I was talking about.

Anyway, I know I should be less irritable. At least the guy didn't presume I was one of the lifer expats that permanently resides in the Pham Ngu Lau area drinking beer for breakfast. That says something. I have that going for me. I guess I just wasn't in the mood to talk and to have someone assume I didn't know what I was doing. Dammit man, can't you see I've been here? I'm practically a local. Didn't you hear my near fluent Vietnamese? {sarcasm} I know it ain't perfect, but I got what I wanted no thanks to you. But cám ơn anyway.

Almost done!

The end of October has finally come! A couple short months ago it seemed like this day would never arrive. October 31st is not only Halloween, but the last day of my teaching contract as well. I fulfilled the requisite number of hours and the bonus will soon be in my hands. Or better yet, in the bank. And that bonus will pay for at least a month of travel.

My last vacation, a mere six weeks, was prematurely aborted to return to Vietnam and wrap up my contract. I decided I could teach for a couple more months and with that cash (including the bonus) return to my wandering ways for about five months. Don't know if that's going to happen - maybe six or seven!

This past month I worked 119.5 hours. That's my second busiest month in FOUR years! My busiest was 143.5, which was also my biggest mistake as it contributed to my near nervous breakdown. I've got to stop working so much. It interferes too much with living.

So now, I can breathe an enormous sigh of relief. So freaking happy to have made it without completely breaking down. And with November just a few minutes away, the countdown begins. Only 18 days until I am free again! No more teaching forever.

Well, that's the plan anyway. Never say never, but I mean it. I don't want to teach anymore! It's time for the next chapter. It was time a while ago, but I put the book down and forgot what page I was on. It always felt strange to me to be called a teacher. Maybe cause we're really just entertainers in teaching attire.

Anyway, excited and anxious for the the next step. Don't have high hopes to actually figure out my life, but that would be grand. Having been there before, I pretty much know that ain't gonna happen. Just want to get out there again, see some new shit and clear my head.

What to do and where to go next? That'll come in time. Baby steps. One day at a time. For now, I'm going to enjoy the last few weeks of teaching knowing that I won't have to put on my tap dancing shoes anymore. Time for something new.

Musings at the gym

I was wrapping up my workout the other morning when in walked the long-legged wannabe beauty queen. Past her prime, but still young enough to make anyone look twice. Her body, on the other hand, was still basking in the fountain of youth. Not that I could know for sure - I just can't imagine it ever looking better. Anyway, I'm really not that pervert in the gym who leers at you from afar. Or up close for that matter. Nor do I go to the gym for those reasons. But sometimes, Jesus. Looking twice is essential to make sure you saw what you just saw. Which means occasionally you get caught looking in the mirror.

Not that I'm saying I got caught looking the mirror. I could give a fuck. I will not, however, go out of my way and strain my neck to get a glance at someone. That's embarrassing. So the other morning, there I was on the mat looking into the mirror after an uninspired set of stomach crunches. And I saw a pair of legs walk around the mirrored wall behind me. They belonged to her. Naturally.

Anyway, they were long legs. I mean long. Not that she was super tall. It's just that her shorts were super small. And baby blue. And then everything slowed down. Fog crept in under the doors and she threw her hair back. Different music was playing now. She was also wearing leggings and a head band - straight out of some 80's movie tucked far far away in the corner of my mind. If my mind had corners it was certainly there. But this girl didn't start doing Jazzercise. Instead, she did some toe touches, which honestly didn't leave much to the imagination. Much to mine anyway. Hey, I'm trying to workout over here! And then, to my disbelief, she started doing side bends and with one foot elevated, her vagina was practically winking at me. I winked back.

And to answer your question, yes I just said vagina. Oh my God! Heaven's to Betsy! Yes, I know. And I have a penis. The match made in heaven. Moving on. Call me what you will, but pretty much any man is going to notice these things. I'm just putting it in writing. And being honest. And having said that, I really don't need to be seeing that at the gym. Not that I want an all-male gym. No thanks. Definitely prefer a gym of the coed variety, but I don't need to be thinking about sex while I'm working on my stomach. Yes, I should have better control of my thoughts. But I can't because I'm a dog. I mean, a man. And any man would have been thinking the same - even a monk. And this is one reason why, ladies, that men think about sex too much. You're the reason. I'd probably be onto bigger and better things by now, but I've been set back by all these 'unfortunate' and rather time-consuming events in my life. And thus, have progressed rather slowly. One might think this kind of thing could inspire, but really it just leads to perspiration rather than inspiration. And with that, I conclude this nonsense.

The Saigon social scene

I have never been a big party animal and never will be, but I have to say I have enjoyed myself recently at venues I would have previously avoided. I guess I'm not a big fan of the scene, of seeing and being seen and wasting my money on overpriced beverages. I generally prefer to see than to be seen, to people-watch from a safe distance without being watched myself. Some people bask in the spotlight, I run from it. Unless of course I was making millions - then I might feel like it might come with the territory. I wish sometimes I could be invisible, get my shit done without being pointed at or having someone compare their miniature stature to mine. It's just not that funny anymore. Never really was to be honest.

So having said the above, I have generally avoided the popular expat hangouts in Saigon such as Vasco's, Apocalypse, Go2, Lush and others that come to mind such as the Factory, Lavish, Acoustic, Yoko's, Phatty's, Drunken Duck, Bar Number Five, et al. I suppose I'm just not that social. And when I am feeling particularly social, I actually like to hear what my friends are saying without yelling What?! every time they finish speaking. I like music, but not when it feels like my ears are getting raped. Yes, I'm an old man. Turn down that music you sonofabitch!

Not to say that I've never been out in Saigon, I just tend to avoid the above places MOST OF THE TIME. I recently went back to Acoustic for the second time in nearly four years. And it was packed, brimming with mostly young Vietnamese. I'm surrounded by Asians! Such a rarity in Vietnam. Not one to particularly fancy hanging out by the door looking for a place to sit, we found some seats and I eventually blended in with the crowd nursing my beverage of choice, a cold Tiger.

And the beer was actually cold. Not just stuck in the fridge for ten minutes to feel frosty on the outside, but actually chilled throughout. The way a beer should be drunk. And the music was actually good too. A heavyset black guy banging out some classic covers and a cheesy, but likable Vietnamese guy doing a set shortly thereafter. Sure it helped to know the tunes, but they were performed well and I actually found myself singing (mostly in my head) and bobbing along as well. I hate those people.

And last night, a few nights post-Acoustic, I found myself in Vasco's. A place I have only visited a few times and really only to know what all the fuss was about. It wasn't all that. But having said that, I am hard to please. Unless of course we're talking a 14,000 dong beer on the street, but that shit better be cold! This time, I was invited to Vasco's and lately I've been needing a vice so it sounded like a good idea. And it was.

Hanging out with a bunch of new people proved slightly traumatic until the first beer passed my lips. Not really, I just like to exaggerate, but go with it. Anyway, it's not always easy hanging with new people who also happen to be from a different culture. Not that difficult, but harder to know what to say and what's going to be understood. It was fine and a lot of names were finally placed with faces.

And then there were a bunch of recognizable faces from work and softball and here and there and everywhere. Like a high school reunion only it hadn't been that long. Then there was that girl. And that guy. And that other girl. And my old housemate. And apparently some local celebrities. And drunk yet friendly folks passing by and making interesting conversation.

I was told that all the other popular hangouts were closed to mark the observance of a former Vietnamese Prime Minister's recent death. And so everyone came to Vasco's. Why they were able to stay open was not clear. Perhaps they paid off the police. Who the guy was I'll never know as I can't even find information on his death by simply checking the local Vietnamese papers online. Whatever. I was told nobody liked the guy so perhaps nobody did a write up. Well, I'm sure somebody did. I'm just not that interested to find it.

Anyway, maybe I'm changing. I'm going out more, enjoying people's company more and enjoying my own less. Perhaps compensating for all the moments I've enjoyed alone in the past. And also perhaps because I don't know how much longer I'll be in this city and I want to enjoy as many evenings as I can just in case there aren't that many more. And definitely because I'm taking my mind off other issues, which remain, but are at least less of an issue when I'm out enjoying myself. Not the best way to deal, but it could be worse. Always could be worse.

I need change

It's that time again. Approximately every four years, I develop a severe itch to do something new. No, it's not bed bugs. The first time came in 2003 when I up and left the San Francisco Bay Area after enduring various office jobs - none of which were to my liking. I left for greener pastures, which was actually true. I went to Portland, Oregon in the Pacific Northwest. I couldn't bear to think of spending my entire life in one small dot on a map.

In late 2003, I started working at a grocery store. It was a decent job and quite social as well, which was good for living in a new area. It didn't take long, however, for it to become a little mundane. Stocking cans of corn, greeting customers, facing the product. I tried to liven up my life by doing odd jobs on the side and working on creative projects at home. In the end, I had to call it a day. The signs were there and I knew if I didn't take action, the Universe would and I'd get run over by a bus for not listening.

So in late 2007, that magical four year mark, I went to Bangkok with a one-way ticket in hand and a slate full of possibilities ahead of me. Not that I really knew what any of them were at the time. And now, nearly four years later, here I am, teaching English in Vietnam. And guess what, surprise surprise, the clock is ticking, the internal time bomb is about to explode. I've been aware of it for some time and I keep defusing it, but like one of those damned trick birthday candles, it keeps relighting itself.

I never really thought of myself as a teacher. I don't want to stand and talk in front of twenty people - are you kidding me? But it was a hurdle, a fear you could say, that I wanted to get over. And now that I've done it, ok, done. I could strive to become the best teacher I can be, but in reality that's not what it is. I have to strive to become the best entertainer. And I'm not a dancer, a singer, a magician or a musician. Nor do I want to be.

I didn't ever want to be a grocery store clerk either. I don't want to stand making idle chit-chat with random strangers scanning their unscannable groceries. What will I do if my curry digests in a hurry? But I did it, got over the stupid fear of being 'in the spotlight' and actually enjoyed myself, for a time. And then, I needed to move on. Exactly what is happening now. I'm aware of it, but still trying to fend it off for just a little while longer.

This need would have arisen a long time ago if it hadn't been for other changes in my life and school. First, the school changed the book. Thank Gosh. I had to prepare lessons again and learning a new book made teaching more interesting. But that still left me at the same school, where I had to see the same faces every day. Some of them easier to bear than others. And I found myself trying to find a quiet place, which usually meant staring at the small screen on my mobile 'meditating' until a few minutes after the bell rang, which I might add is when everyone went to class.

A couple nervous breakdowns later, I was fortunate to be transferred to a different campus, which happened to be even closer to my home. At first I was hesitant to the new location, but in reality, the change in scenery helped postpone any further breakdowns from occurring. And a quicker commute, meaning less traffic and staying dry during monsoon season, was also highly advantageous.

But like I said, the fuse kept getting relit. Nothing I could do about that. So I took a six-week holiday to mull things over and felt thoroughly refreshed when I came back. For a couple days. And then, all the same feelings came quickly rushing back. It's like the dam is breaking, the leak is turning into a gush and I keep plugging holes by making small changes, keeping me momentarily happy until all the weak spots eventually give way.

I just got a haircut. That helps for a couple days. So does a shave. And getting new resources from the internet. A few new games go a loooong way to help liven up the classroom. I even went so far as to go to the tailor. I have enough clothes, but I tire of everything quickly. Two new shirts and two pants. That'll do it. I might even get a new bag. Tired of that old briefcase. Even having a sharp dry-erase marker makes me feel more at the top of my game.

But ultimately these changes - new mobile, new shoes, new motorbike, new place to live, new neighbors, new students, et al - will not replace a new attitude. And that's what I need. But unfortunately I can't just buy one of those. If only it were that easy! And it ain't easy to just change my attitude and say Today, I'm going to make a difference or Today I'm going to have fun. Because I can always count on some fool talking on their mobile in class or asking me to play a game. Teecha, play game!

I know I should just let it slide right off my back. Let it go. Let the nonsense go! But I'm on edge and I can't. I'm teetering on the brink and it shows. I'm tense in the classroom and feel like I'm waiting for somebody to start pushing my buttons or give me an unhappy glare because we're actually studying what we should be studying. Or because they only understand 10% of the listening activity and yes, it's my fault. I'm sorry.

I guess what it comes down to is passion. This isn't mine. Never will be. If I found mine, I'd be pursuing it with the intensity of a hungry fox in a hen house. Or a drunken horny frat boy at a sorority party. And so here we go again. Stop what I'm doing. Travel some. Think some. Experience a lot. Find something new. Hopefully something that will make me smile more and complain less. Doesn't hurt to dream.