I found out the next day that Harry had found himself locked out, because he wasn’t home in time again… After I’d fallen asleep he’d managed to get home by jumping the gate, and one of the guards ran out in his underwear shouting at him, and he held his hands up shouting “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Mental note: Don’t live in the school where you work. Get your own place, with no curfew!
My lessons today were year one who were really nice (they are still nice and cute and haven’t become horrible) and year three. Year three used to be my favourite year, but they are now my old year two’s and they were a pain in the ass today. I need to start being much tougher on them, start as you mean to go on! At one point I remember I kept saying to them “You are year three now, not year 2!” How much of a boring teacher do I sound?
When we went for lunch that day in the café where I’d found my keys the days before and hugged the waiter, who re-told the story to Harry, paying particular attention to the fact I’d told him I love him… He then started stuttering and asking me for my number while Harry fell about the floor laughing and for a horrible moment I thought he was going to ask me on a date, but then he said it was because he wanted to “practise his English”. Harry later said he was impressed at how smooth he was!
On Friday I had a night mare class, who I wanted to kill. It was just four boys, two in particular. They would not stop talking, kept running around the room and making stupid noises. After multiple threats I managed to get one of them standing on one side of the room and another standing on the other side, but they kept talking to each other from across the room and “egging” each other on. On the plus side, I was surprised at how much the rest of the class responded to me, and they were mostly all listening, and when I got really angry and yelled at them they actually shut up, which is a first. The only problem was that the others boys were being so bad, it was impossible to get any work out of them. I made both boys leave the classroom, which would have improved the situation, had they not stood outside the classroom jumping up and down making stupid noises. In the end I left the class to find a Vietnamese teacher to yell at them, and yell at them she did, along with the rest of the class and made them both apologise to me. Hahaha, horrible kids.
After classes I head to Connor’s to continue working on his website. I felt like a right business woman, sat in a coffee shop, typing away on my laptop! I was only writing a travel blog and proof reading, nothing too ground breaking, but little did I know that three years later I would be the director of Teacher’s Friend Vietnam.
Ok… don’t freak out… I’m going to get a motorbike. I’ve put it off for months now but everyone here rides a bike- boys, girls, men, women, girls in high heels, old ladies, frail old men and all the ex-pats. And everyone I’ve met owns a bike. It will make getting to and from the old quarter so much easier, as well as being able to get to the big supermarkets easily, and to my private classes and back. It will save me so much money on xe oms (motorbike Taxis), and I am not convinced that I am safer on the back of a xe om than I am on my own. Also, there is no minimum speed limit here, so everyone who wants to drive slow just drives on the far edge of the road, and everyone else who wants to dive in and out of the traffic stays in the middle. Finally, I cannot live in Vietnam and not get a motorbike!
So, Connor took me to Vivian’s restaurant to practise on the bike. It was easier than I thought to balance and understand the throttle. I rode round various times and practised breaking, turning and using the throttle. Luckily, it was automatic and so I didn’t have to worry about gears or a clutch. Now I need to practise doing all three of these at the same time, until it becomes natural to me, and then I can begin to practise on the empty roads by our house. I thought I was doing quite well until I found out that Connor had just got on the bike without ever riding one before (other than scooters a few times) and taken off down the roads, hoping for the best and bricking himself the whole way! Over my dead body would I do that. Literally!
That evening there was a massive thunderstorm which Connor and I watched from the terrace, it was fascinating. It was flash lighting, which I’ve not really seen before, and sheet lighting, and forked lighting, all at the same time. The forks were going across the sky however, not down from the sky, and at one point there were two thunderstorms, one on the left of us and one on the right, and the lightning forked right across the sky, joining the two. It was spectacular!