Foreign Indulgences

Okay, as much as I ranted about the local food in the previous post, I must admit hauling along quite a number of what you could call “ foreign essentials”, things which are either too dear in Vietnam, too difficult to source out or just impossible to find (for reasons of either legality or culture). Turn the cart upside down, though, and they could be called a Westerner’s “lavish indulgences”, or more harshly; unnecessary excess crap to lug along on an already long flight. Of course I prefer the former term.

Be it as it may, I’d like to share with you now these fine items which are of various values; sentimental, monetary, sanitary or just plain sanity.

First on the list was an essential collection of 20 cds. I think Sarah and I have managed to put together a fine assortment of new albums , cheesy treffers (as they call rubbish music that’s only good for drunken singalongs in South Africa), local (as in Aussie and Saffa) or nostalgic albums. Classified geographically, these are:

Australian: Xaviar Rudd and Izintaba (Koonyum Sun), John Butler Trio x2 (April Uprising and Three), The Whitlams (Love this City), Eskimo Joe (A Song is a City) and Powderfinger (Golden Rule).

South Africa: Jack Parow (Self-titled), The Rudimentals (Set it Proper), Valiant Swart (Die Mystic Boer), The Dirty Skirts(On a Stellar Bender), Max Normal.TV (Good Morning South Africa), Springbok Nude Girls (Goddank vir Klank) and Black Mango Presents (Breathe Sunshine Vol 3).

International: The Flaming Lips (The Soft Bulletin), Florence + the Machine (Lungs), Pendulum x2 (Immersion and In Silico), Kings of Leon x3 (Because of the Times, Youth and Young Manhood and Aha Shake Heartbeat), Putumayo Presents (Sahara Lounge).

Cheesy World Cup Fever induced purchases: African Musical Safari, K’Naan (Troubadour), Listen Up! (The official 2010 World Cup Album).

*A quick endorsement from Metallica: If you haven’t heard of any of the above-mentioned artists go out and illegally download all of their music (except for the ones in the last category which are all pretty naff), and send the royalties to the Royal Society for Protection of African White Tigers.

Next on the list, (and never far from my mind) was foodstuffs: From South Africa and still in the mail are a fine range of Ina Paarman’s spices, stocks, and sauces. Sarah reckons Ina is like South Africa's very own Martha Stewart, but without the criminal record. Also, choccies (think Tempo and Bar One), four small potjies – quintessential SA outdoor cast iron cooking pots).

Our Australian amassment contained…wait for it, Tim Tams! Mint Slice! Gigantic Kit-Kat Chunky bars! Now before, you say: “But you can get Tim Tams in Vietnam, stupid.” As any discerning chocololic worth his block clearly knows, they’re just. not. the same, so rather keep quiet as not to look like you don’t know your cacao from you co…coffee. They’re made in Malaysia where different criteria are used to determined deliciousness, or is it deliciosity?

Anyways, sadly but not unsurprisingly none of the above consignment made it to Week Two of “The Return”. A half-jack of mezcal complete with two alcohol-bloated little worms only just made it into Week Two.

There were also numerous toiletries: think face cleansers without whiteners – I know it’s hard to imagine – and things that won’t make you break out in a rash and hives from just looking at the chemical ingredients on the label.

There were heaps of shoes in Western sizes, including a pair of gumboots (for Saigon downpours), and “real” football boots. What?! You mean the boots they sell for a hundred thousand uncles on Huyen Tran Cong Chua Street aren’t real?! The fact that your toes were sticking out of them after your first kickaround should’ve made that clear, buddy…

Books! I wish I could list all the books we had, but sadly the two pristine rectangular boxes we sent from Australia by post, containing our books, teaching material and other odds and ends arrived a few days after us, battered, bruised and misshapen sans most of our books. Luckily a lot of Sarah’s cook books were saved the culling and I’m pretty sure it’s not the first time Salman Rushdie’s novels haven’t made it into a country. A lot of our teaching materials were also rifled through and some removed (at least we’ll soon have a new generation of Vietnamese postal workers getting 7.5 on their IELTS tests).

Now to what I believe to be the most important items: A Bundaberg Rum Wallabies overall (great for messy nights out with the boys), my silk SA flag, as well as beanie and scarf and the ultimate South African cultural weapon: Our modern day assegai, that much maligned, often misunderstood hornet's nest in a stadium, the bane of all English supporters existence at the World Cup (or possibly a tight second after the Uruguayan referees in the second round match against Germany). The vuvu. The vuvuzela. 

Lavish indulgences? Please, mate. Essentials.

Duties done and dusted

When you're sleeping at night, when everything is really quiet, and you hear *bump* *bump* thudding around somewhere outside, don't fret; that would probably be me sleepwalking into things with my newly acquired, rotund, Friar Tuck-like Christmas belly. I think it may have stretch marks and if I had a hand-mirror to be able to see under the bulge I might be able to tell for sure!

I've been having an awesome time since being back - hence the lack of posts. First Natalie came to visit and we did everything we wanted, just chilling on the couch, shopping, going out for sushi, going to my sister's holiday house in Pearly Beach and I even managed some diving in between. My grand tally of crayfish caught stands at five which includes two oupa rooi gerte (grandfather crayfish) as long as my forearm. Nat went home on Saturday, which sucked big time not being able to spend more time with her, and then I went back to Pearly Beach with the parentals to do the family thing, which was very cool.

Christmas represented old-skool, going back to the tradition of spending Eve at my aunt's house in Franskraal with the whole famdam. I think this tradition stretches back to way before I was born so it's quite a solid one which I understand is good to maintain, like a Unesco World Heritage Site or something and not in the Calvinistic sense of tradition. Bleh. I had fun. Got some cool prezzies too.

I'm currently in Hermanus, where the next few days will be spent consuming a mishmash of alcoholic beverages, of dubious quality but impressive quantity, and surfing, or lying on the beach giving off the "surfer karma" making sure everyone knows I surf and trying to fool everyone into thinking I can do 360 airs, reverse rolls, drop-knee 720s and pull into two minute barrels just by the way I lie on the beach gazing across the blue expanse that is my playground. If I pull it off Uri Geller better step back cause his spoon-bending antics will be so-last-century...oh wait, they already are.

Will post again before New Year's Even hopefully. If I don't: You know what to do, don't disappoint yourself or me.

Some pics follow here or on FlickR shortly!

Journey: complete

Forty hours, five airports, six airplane meals, 24 Bellingham tiny wines, three hours of sleep, three in-flight movies, one suicidal piece of machinery and one sick passenger later: I am home.

These last few days would have been hell on earth if I wasn't so excited about coming home. After Bangkok we arrived in Nairobi at four am, departing at Jomo Kenyatta Airport. It felt like when you come out of a late-night movie in a mall and all the shops are closed, lights dimmed, and your footsteps echo in the empty corridors. We had to wait until 7:30 for our next flight, but that turned out to be 13:00, as some mechanical thingy-majig on the plane decided to commit suicide (selfish bugger) as we were taxiing, so we had to turn around on the runway and wait in the departure lounge until 12, by which time they'd figured out what was wrong, but then the pilot and his crew had completed their 12-hour shift and the airline was compelled by law to find another pilot. Luckily, there was a captain and crew sitting in the government/first-class lounge playing strip-poker and drinking games with the air hostesses, chuggin' on fat Havanas, downing tequila shots and chasing them with Jack and coke mixers. They would have to do.

Tiny wine was ordered and we headed off to Joburg aka Egoli, place of gold. It was a bumpy ride but the views while flying over the Serengeti and lakes Tanganyika and Victoria were worth it, as well of course, the copious i-tiny winies in constant supply and disappearing in a perennial stream. By the time we departed at Johannesburg, Christoff couldn't focus or handle heavy machinery (afterwards he said he couldn't remember ever climbing off the airplane at JHB International - damn lightweight) so yours truly had to do the PA work, booking us in and getting us on the Mango Airlines plane, who, by the way were pretty crap, and made us about three hours late but it wasn't their fault and if you pay minimal fees that's what you can expect so we couldn't complain. Other passengers did, however and kudos to Ghia the uber-cool air hostess who handled the grumpy, "this is not acceptable service", "I have hemorrhoids so I want a softer seat" whiny-ass passengers with grace and icy-cool finesse. Nice one! If they want silver service, maybe they should have coughed up a bit more money instead of buying the cheapest plane ticket on the market.

Again, while we were taxiing on the runway, some dude got a panic attack and freaked out. Five brandy shots and seven bitch-slaps didn't rectify the situation so we had to turn around again and drop him off. Back into the queue waiting to depart. I'm not sure, but I think we arrived in Cape Town at about 22:20 last night. It was good to see the folks and fam who had been waiting since seven I think, but luckily they used the Kotzé family common-sense and headed to the nearest airport restaurant to polish several bottles of wine whilst waiting.

I'm as happy as an ant in a cookie jar, bee in a honey pot, or caterpillar on head of lettuce. Will update again soon!

Last day of work

I’m sitting here at school, about to go teach my last class for a little over a month. It’s an ambivalent feeling. No, that’s crap. It feels awesome going home. I’m gonna miss this place, but I’d miss it more if I weren’t coming back in four weeks. I could go off on some long-winded, adjective- and emotion-filled doughnut of a rant of what a great experience these last 9 months have been etc, but I’ll spare us all some tears and yawns. It was good. Punt (punt in Afrikaans means “Full stop – as in the punctuation mark – but carries more weight, probably because it’s shorter).

I thought I’d share this: As I’m writing this post, my mom just text messaged me. I thought, great, she gonna tell me how she can’t wait for me to come home; “Nog net twee slapies my diertjie” or something in that line. No, instead: “Are you allowed to wear pink shirts to work?” A bit arb, but funny.

Anyways, tomorrow evening this time I’ll be somewhere over the Indian Ocean, scratching my uncomfortable ass in my severely limited leg-room, wondering why the hell I decided to fly with Kenya Airways via godforsaken Nairobi..Oh yes, because it was damn cheap!

I’ll post again as soon as I’ve figured out what this “reverse-culture shock” phenomenon is all about…

Kaizer Chiefs in Nam

I just recieved an email from the South African Consulate in Hanoi that the Kazier Chiefs' under 19 football team are playing two games up in the capital. How weird is that?

They're playing Hoa Phat Hanoi u20 today and ACB Hanoi u20 on Sunday. The first game's probably a bit short notice but anyone up in Hanoi who wants to see shibobos (aka nutmegs), tsamayas, sthendes (backheels) and for-damn-sure some African flair and bambaata should head off to the Hang Day Stadium. Match starts at 3 pm.

Holla 7 - show me your numba!

*Update: Sorry guys - I got the dates wrong (the banner is in Vietnamese so excuse the mistake) - it's the 30th November and 3rd of December so check it out if you can!