It has been a good few weeks since my last journal entry. Let me briefly bring you up to speed. I have now started teaching private lessons, at the moment I have 5 students. I am enjoying the private teaching as I am my own boss. It also allows me to pretend that I have a degree (the private students just take my word for it) which gives me a bit more credibility. I plan to grow my student base to the level that Ilrok’s is at so that we can make some good money. At $25 an hour I couldn’t complain. In other news we were pleasantly surprised to have a South African neighbour move into the apartment next to ours. We have been spending a lot of time with him and his Japanese girlfriend. Our time spent together revolves around South African pastimes such as attempting to braai (which was a huge failure) and streaming live rugby. We also made another friend, Yvette, who is also a South African. She shares many ideas and values with Ilrok and I. The last big event that happened was a spontaneous trip to Sa Pa, a small town high above the clouds, near Vietnam’s highest mountain and the Chinese border. Sa Pa was so memorable that it would be a shame not to divulge.

A few days later I had an unexpected call from my employer, I thought it strange because her involvement in my teaching was minimal at best. She arrived to pick me up and we headed off for coffee. It was bad news again. I could not continue working for the company as a teacher because I do not have a degree. She did however offer me a job as a dancing instructor. The fact that I had never done any formal dancing in my life didn’t faze her. She was under the impression that all westerners could dance. Perhaps it was the media that instilled this idea in her mind. The pay was very good but I had to decline. There was no way that I could teach people how to dance.

Some time passed and PJ returned to South Africa and Hildegard returned to the south. Our gang was reduced to just Ilrok and I again. This would not last long as we had become friends with our neighbour one floor below us. I do not know his name, I just call him Hyong (meaning older brother in his country). He is a very generous Korean who was always spoiling us with gifts. Finally, we thought it time to go and have a few drinks with him. We entered his flat and were given glass upon glass of Soju (Korean rice wine). After we were well inebriated, he thought it would be a good idea to treat us to some traditional Korean snacks. Out came the snails and butterfly cocoons. Trying to hide my disgust I dug into the cocoons. Immediately, I realised that this dish was not for me. I did well to hold a straight face and instead silently heaved. I congratulated myself on not offending him and moved on to the snails. I steadied my shaking chopsticks and grabbed one of the slimy creatures. I then dipped it in mayonnaise and thrust it into my mouth before my brain had time to oppose. Hyong looked at me and nodded, signalling that I should supply feedback. “Mmmm” I lied while tightly pressing my lips together. I seemed to have fooled him. Many drinks later he told Ilrok that he felt dizzy, so we thanked him and took our leave.

PJ’s sister, Hildegard arrived around this time and we had one more person to add to our little crew. She was a great asset as she is fluent in Vietnamese. With her around, all the prices seemed to miraculously drop and for the first time we had a translator. That night Nada, the woman that had first taken us in hosted a Christmas party. We had a great time and met many new people. Even my whiskey thieving acquaintance was there and I took the opportunity to (jokingly) remind him about the debt that he owed me. We spent the night playing many different drinking games and eating a lot of food. After a while some of the folks grew tired. For Ilrok, PJ, Hildegard and I, it was time for the real fun to commence. The four of us loaded ourselves on to my poor little scooter and sped off in true Vietnamese style. Ilrok was crammed into the foot area of the scooter. Behind her was Hildegard who was the driver. PJ was sandwiched in next and finally was me, dragging my feet as we zoomed along. It was far from comfortable but it beat walking. Our first stop was a disappointment as it was being shut down by the police due to the curfew system. We then shot off to the local beer hall which was also closed. It suddenly dawned on us that our only option was to visit the Anh’s. They almost fell over laughing when we arrived because of our drastic over loading. Having Hildegard there was a perfect opportunity to get to know them better. After interrogating them with a translator, we were once again hungry. Hildegard barked some Vietnamese at them and Jo Anh hopped on his motorbike and took off. He returned with a parcel of beef which he quickly hacked up and threw into his paraffin fuelled fryer. He added it to the mixture of ingredients that were left over from the Anh’s supper. It was surprisingly good. Now that our stomachs had been re-lined, we were ready to continue drinking. Needless to say, it was another late night.

Today was the day that I started my new job. I took a motorbike taxi and finally found the school. The company that I worked for hired one of the classrooms at an arbitrary school and after a little searching I found the right one. It was night time and I was the only person at the eerie school. It suited me perfectly, I had no one to check up on me and was given free reign to teach what I wanted (that meant that I could ignore the idiotic notion of teaching the IPA). I waited patiently for my students to arrive. After a while 10 students pitched up and I began my lesson. They were all young adults so I tried to relate to them as best as possible. I mixed teaching with games and soon had the class in the palm of my hand. An hour and a half flew by. I was complemented on a very fun lesson by one of my students – so, happy as ever I found another motorbike taxi and set off home.

It was now time to celebrate my new job, so we gathered our troops and went to our tobacco stall to find our new Vietnamese friends. We were greeted warmly and offered seats. To us they were called the Anhs’(Anh meaning older brother). We had given them nicknames, (to which they responded) we would never remember their real names. Jo (boss) Anh was the ringleader.

He was the owner of the stall and our favourite. He was the face that we saw the most. We loved to make him laugh, he had a cackle that forced us to laugh even harder (especially when he pulled his lips back, exposing his brown teeth). After him came Sexy Ahn. 

He was hideous but loved the camera; he could pull off poses that would make a high end model envious. His pout would always exhibit a single massive tooth. We had a good laugh at him. Another member of the gang was Silent Anh.

He had many poorly done tattoos and because of this he seemed to think himself quite dangerous. He would infrequently join us in laughter but never said a word. Next was Pussy Anh. [No pic.] The name was bestowed upon him after PJ fabricated a fight with him and he fled like the timid coward that he is. The last one was Scarface Anh. As you can imagine... he had scars.

The others, we felt did not qualify for nicknames. They were random faces that we would not see too often. We soon learned that there was more than what met the eye about this little stall. We started asking questions when Vietnamese “heavies” kept driving past and offering us some sort of a death stare. Whenever they drove past the Anhs’would go quiet and look at the floor in submission. We had gotten quite good at “conversing” with the Anhs’ and found out that the “heavies” were in fact members of the Vietnamese Mafia. We then discovered that the Anhs’were the lookouts for a brothel on the opposite side of the road. This explained the many different men entering the premises late at night. We asked the Anh’s if they themselves were Mafia and they shook their heads. They jokingly (I think) offered us “boom boom” for $50 and we declined. Undeterred, they then offered us oral sex at their brothel for around $10. Still we of course declined. We were then treated to Seahorse vodka which we were told was a strong aphrodisiac. Though all it seemed to do was make us drunk...

The next day I was invited for lunch with one of my teaching assistants. After the usual chit-chat she broke the news that I could no longer work for them because I did not have a work permit. This was no major blow because I had already secured an interview for another job. I left her on good terms so that I could use her as a future reference for new work. I shook off the minor blow and headed off for the interview for the new job. I again said what I had to say and secured the job. I was very happy because I was no longer teaching children. Although I had grown to enjoy teaching them - I was ready for greater challenges. The new job paid much more which was an additional benefit. The only problem was that I would be asked to focus my teaching on phonetics. It was the first time that I had used the International Phonetic Alphabet and I had to learn it very quickly. If you do not know what this is, look at any word in the dictionary. Next to it you will find a series of symbols, showing you how to pronounce each word.