Saigon Smells and Notes on Quitting Facebook

Over the past year and a half, several people have asked me to describe my experiences living in Saigon. The truth is, there is no way to accurately describe Saigon over a rushed cup of coffee or with a long list of words in an e-mail. 

You have to be here. Saigon must grab you with her weathered, leather bound hands and toss you into the formulated chaos of if all. You have to smell the pork chops sizzling on the wire grills at the com tam stands. You have to feel the panic coursing through your body as you ride on the back of a fateful xe om. You have to inhale the motorbike fumes. You have to see the women in their conical hats, in a squat no cross fitter could manage, cleaning out the sidewalk cracks with a piece of wood. You have to taste...everything. 

This week's sense: SMELL 

Saigon smells like shit and a five star restaurant . My senses have never been so confused. Often times while strolling through the market, I will cover my mouth in both excitement and disgust multiple times over the course of a ten minute walk. My body gets confused. I start salivating and quickly seek out a food stand like it's my last day on earth. Then, BAM! Some rotting meat permeates my nasal cavities and I vow to never eat again. I shuffle a few steps forward to seek safety in salivation zone, a friendly banana fritter stand. But wait, what's that? I see some pig heads in the distance that alert me of the inevitable nausea. 

My salivary glands throw a party when I smell : pork chops, fried eggs, pho, dumplings, spring rolls, vermicelli noodles with fish sauce, fried chicken, spinach fried with garlic, banana fritters,sweet potato  fries...salivating yet? I'll help you. 

The nausea police break up the party when I smell : fish guts, fish heads, sun soaked raw meat from all walks of life, pork balls, skinned frogs, dog feces, human feces, spoiled vegetables, and rotting air. 

My nose is having a serious identity crisis. 

I am going to try and make it a point to post on this blog every Sunday. It can be like PostSecret except without the secrets. (For a comprehensive list of all of my secrets, please see my other blog).  

I'm going to record any interesting things that happen to me throughout the week, and post them on Sundays. 

Here it goes. 

Monday- There is a gang of xe ôm drivers who situate themselves on the corner outside of school. Every day this week, they have been teasing me about not taking a ride (These guys are motorbike drivers who make a living giving people rides around the city. Although I am constantly getting shit for it, I still don't have the confidence to drive a motorbike. Last time I attempted, I may have run into the side of a Vietnamese family's house. They were all very helpful, but my ego was severely bruised and I think I lost a little alley cred).  Unfortunately, my Vietnamese is not advanced enough to tell these friendly gentlemen that I am always walking about three blocks to the gym and a ride would be counterproductive. I did end up getting a ride with one of them on Saturday and it was very pleasant. Friendly harassment wins again! 

Tuesday- I went to go see Mac Demarco at Cargo Bar. My roomie loves Mac and as I always support Bill in his endeavors, I went along.  He played a great show*. It is always refreshing to see shows in the live music desert that is Saigon. The concerts that I have attended in Saigon are not quite reflective of my taste in music. I have seen The Lemonheads, Mac Demarco, Steve Aoki, Kelly Rowland, and Lil Jon. That's right, I said it: Lil Jon. When will I ever be able to utter the words: "So I was at the Lil Jon concert in Saigon when..." again? WHAT? OK! 

* There is only one minor complaint I have about good ol' Mac. He was wearing a Simpsons shirt while playing his set. Being the huge Simpsons freak that I am, I went up to him and said, "My friends and I were shouting Booo-urns at you during your last song." His response: "What do you mean Booo-urns?" Respect lost. 

Wednesday-I woke up with all of the mosquito bites. I have some hungry suckers in bed with me at night. On the bright side, I obviously have delicious blood. I proctored a spelling bee at school and I realized two very important things about myself. One: I am horrible at proctoring spelling bees. Two: There is nothing that children enjoy more than watching their teachers compete in a spelling bee. (This is especially true when their teachers are awful at spelling. Talk about a public shaming). 

*When you are a teacher, your students expect you to know every single fact under the sun. This is obviously unrealistic, but sometimes I like to pretend (Shout out to Google). It's nice to know that there are at least 50 children in the world that are under the impression that I am all knowing and brilliant. (I know what you guys are all thinking: Only 50?!)

Thursday-Yet again, I went to the doctor for my knee. After fiddling around with my knee for a few minutes, doc looked up at me and said, "You should look into a new hobby, like going to the cinema." My MRI is on Tuesday. 

My little bro Joe put me in contact with Caroline, a former Peace Corps volunteer, who he knows from Nicaragua. She recently started her new job in Ho Chi Minh City and so Allison and I met her for dinner. She has so many interesting stories about Nicaragua and her assignment; it made me even more excited for my visit this summer. Once again, she sparked my interest in the Peace Corps. Maybe one of these days when I can commit to that degree of isolation. I just love people too damn much. 

THE WEEKEND-This can be bunched into one. We had a beer exchange on Friday which was really amazing. Everyone who went home for the holidays was asked to bring some choice craft beer back to Saigon. I think we tried 37 beers in total. Good work Saigon beer enthusiasts. Revolution A Little Crazy did pretty well amongst the harsh judges. I celebrated Australia day on Saturday by watching the AFL 9s finals that my knee wouldn't allow me to participate in. I hit one cricket ball and watched a touch rugby game. Despite my lack of sports play, I drank a lot of beer and ate a hamburger, which is the most Australian thing I can think of. Go Australia! Today I went to the pool and gym after struggling out of bed at an embarrassing hour. 

My final words: 

This week was pretty boring, but thank you for riding the ramble express with me. I have also decided to (almost completely) stop being on Facebook for a while. The only time I will go on is to post these blogs and possibly a few pictures. I have been off the needle since Thursday and it is actually pretty liberating. There have already been about a hundred times when I have gone to check the phantom app on my phone. (I kept the messenger installed, only because it is my main source of communication). I admit it, I am a Facebook addict. I tend to check it every five minutes for no reason whatsoever. If I see that little red circle of approval, I put all else aside and manically scramble to see who wanted my attention at that particular moment. Am I out to dinner with a friend who actually took the time out of their day to hang out with me? Probably. Aw, shit. Another Candy Crush request? What is this? Linda, who I haven't spoken to in six years, just had a baby and a new white picket fence installed?!  Oh and she just got divorced? Let me check out her ex-husband's new girlfriend's new perfume line. I just have no more time for Linda's ex-husband's new girlfriend's perfume line. I don't even like perfume. I need to live my damn life. I am not trying to be all high and mighty. Let's be real, it's been three days. I will very possibly fall off the wagon. I encourage you all to try to go a day without the book. Just observe what happens. 


I appreciate you taking the time to read this. I appreciate you. Now go outside and run around. 


Also, listen to this song. It's rad. 

Hen gap lai!
(See you soon)

The Sharks Ate My Internet

As we speak, I am sitting in a coffee shop desperately trying to squeeze some internet from their wifi teat. I have little to no internet access in my house, which is fine. I understand that life could be a lot worse. It basically means that I can't receive snapchats in my room. FIRST WORLD PROBLEM.

Anywho, the best part about this internet deficiency is the reasoning behind it. There have been some hungry sharks who have mistaken the fiber optic wires in the ocean for food; apparently they are attracted to the high voltage. It bites. There are several other potential reasons behind this internet collapse, but I choose to stick with the shark theory. Sharks are awesome and if I'm going to be without the internet, I want it to be because some bad ass sharks wanted a snack. Haven't we all been in a spot where we were so hungry we could have eaten the internet? That's what I thought. 

So believe it or not, generating a blog title is no walk in the park.  I decided to go with "Vietnammed" because it is something that happens to me daily (Also an ode to the most wonderful food ordering website known to man; more on that later).  When something out of the ordinary and Vietnam specific occurs, my friends and I commonly say that we have been "Vietnammed."  Here is a list of titles that didn't make the cut. It's still a toss up. 

-The Sharks Ate my Internet

-There's a Gecko in my Blender

-There's a Cockroach Under my Pillow

-Love Songs for Morning Glory (It's sauteed spinach and garlic, you sickos)

-There's a Vietnamese Man Pooping in the River

-The Street Cat Under my Bed

-Motorbike Anxiety 

- Banned from Two 24 Pho Restaurants: Life on the Outside

-Tales From The Backseat of a Vinasun 

-Where's my Vietjet? 

-Seeing Saigon Red

-Big Butts and Tiny Chairs

-$0.50 Beers and Other Reasons to Slowly Descend Into a Life of Alcoholism 

-Gettting Your Purse Stolen For Dummies

-Vietnammm.com: A Love Story

I could go on and on. Instead, here's a picture I snapped today at my friend's apartment. I also watched Resevoir Dogs for the first time. (Hold your gasps). I was pleasantly traumatized.  

Later alligators. 

Well it's official. The social media beast has finally swallowed my entire body. I have decided to start a blog. Am I cool yet? 

It's January 2015 and that means that all of you have already been hearing the sound of millions of resolutions being broken all over the world. Every time a New Year's resolution is broken an angel gets its wings. My very wise roommate has chosen to start calling me Jess 2.015 because I have vowed to do exactly 2.105 things differently in 2015. Now, if you know me well, you know that I always attempt to do this. January 1st is the equivalent of every single Monday that I have experienced in my "adult" life. "On Monday I'm going to stop: binge drinking college style, eating two bags of gummy bears for dinner, being an asshole,etc." I promised myself that I would start writing about my experiences abroad, and this is my attempt to keep the dream alive. No starting over on Monday. 

                                      This is an example of how good I am at keeping resolutions. 

                                                         Brunch aftermath. January 11, 2015

Now, I know what most of you out in cyber world are thinking: "Oh great, another pretentious travel blog." Well if this complaint pertains to you, I can do you an immediate favor. You have my permission to stop reading this right now. That's right! You have the power. Click on that red X on the top right corner and save yourself the trouble. This blog is intended to let the important humans in my life know "what the heck" is going on in my life. This blog's other purpose is to serve as a scrap book, timeline, and  journal so that when I look back at my life in 35 years, I can prove to my kids(and/or cats) that I was "hip" and used to do weird, travely things. (To be honest, the real reason is that I need a journal to automatically save itself. We all know that I am only perfect at one thing: losing shit). 

Here are a few little details about my current life for the strangers reading this: (This is also for you distant cousins at the Christmas party who asked me the same question three times. Cool it on the mojitos). 

• I am 26 (and a half..obviously still clinging to childhood) 
• I live in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
• I teach sixth grade ELA/World History
• Yes, I love living here. It's completely safe. Safer than Chicago in fact. 
• I signed another contract and will be staying in HCMC until at least June of 2016. Come and visit you filthy animals. 

I will be updating this blog with travel and life details, mindless chatter, and lots of pictures of delicious food. Incorrect grammar and spelling will be rampant. Let me have this blog to screw up on, being an English teacher is TUFF STUFF. 

Thanks for reading and stay tuned. 

                                                           I'm back, in blog form.