Big Goofy Foreigner or My Commute

Friday, 15 May 2010

The commute from my apartment in Trung Son to school is about 2.5 miles. When I arrived I found a fleet of xe-om drivers to use. Mr. Hung is my regular- he's 46 and single and has an extra little nubbin on his left thumb. That may be how I came to recognize him. He's quiet, which at times can be an extra special quality of xe-om drivers, especially when I am tired and not really in the mood to chat in a second language that I only speak so-so. He also knows exactly where I need to go, most of the time, so it's easy. He gave me his phone number so I can just call him anytime I need a ride. This is one of the most humorous parts of the xe-om experience, and something that Jonathan and I handle differently, especially when it comes to Mr. Hung.

Quite often when I call Mr. Hung, I am making a plan to go somewhere in the not-too-distant future. It usually goes something like this:
Hung: A-lo? (sleepy, like you-just-woke-me-up sleepy..doesn't matter what time of day it is)
Lisa: Hi Mr. Hung. It's Lisa. Can you come meet me at 6:30 and go to Phu My Hung?
Hung: OK! OK! OK! OK! (Has to be said in a gruff "monster" voice cuz that's how Hung says it)

Jonathan, on the other hand, calls Hung right when he is needed and Hung shows up a moment or 2 later. Because I usually give Hung a time, his question is always- when?

My commute leaves our "quiet" neighborhood, goes up to a BIG 10-lane highway, across the inlet on a big red bridge, and into Phu My Hung. The highway doesn't have much traffic on it most of the time. It does, however, have vendors along the sides of the road selling EVERYTHING you might possibly need, like:
*Fresh live crabs for dinner (or Kindergarten science exploration)
*A new pair of jeans (why you would need jeans in the tropics is still one I can't figure out)
*A new motorcycle helmet (in case yours fell off and broke or you are taking on a new passenger)
*Your morning newspaper, coffee/coconut, and bun (noodle) breakfast (all for take-away),
*Guinea pigs or bunnies (pet or dinner?)
*Fresh fruit!

It was this last one that stopped me on my way home Thursday afternoon. A truck was stopped on the side of the road. When I looked to see what they had, I saw durian (an acquired taste, let's say). No thanks. But then I saw the mangosteens. If you have never had these, you owe it to yourself to try them sometime. They are delicious! They are little round purple fruit about the size of a raquetball ball. The purple is actually just the peel or skin. It is about 1/4 inch thick. The delicious edible part is a small white juicy segmented fruit that sometimes has a seed in it. (or maybe it always does and sometimes they are so small or chewy that I end up eating them!)

On this particular day I was riding my bike. I always wear my helmet, so I look stranger than normal since no one on a bike wears a helmet. I pulled off the road and cruised over to the truck. The vendor, a young man, looked at me with a bit of trepidation on his face. (uh-oh. Foreigner..What does she want? How will I be able to help her?)
When he looked over, I asked (in Vietnamese): "Fruit mangosteen- how much?"
He smiled. (whew! She speaks Vietnamese! or maybe it was because my Vietnamese was so terrible!) "25,000 for 1 kilo." (a great price for mangosteens!! They must be in season!)
Lisa: "Oh, good price. I want 1 kilo."
(Vendor yells to the woman in the truck to get 1 kilo of the delectable fruit. Yum!)

Meanwhile, he has a big goofy grin on his face that probably mirrors my big goofy grin. We go on to chat about how delicious mangosteens are and how these are the most delicious mangosteens, right? Then, when I pull out my money and find that I don't have 25,ooo exactly but rather 50,000, I ask for not 1 but 2 kilos! She continues gathering the fruit into a bag, he continues grinning, I continue grinning (I'm getting mangosteens! I love mangosteens!). We finish the transaction and I ride away feeling like I'm on cloud 9.

I get down the road a bit and bust out laughing. What they must think of foreigners. Silly foreigners- they don't argue that the price is too much- we're going to take them to the cleaners! Silly foreigners, they don't pick out their own fruit! The vendor-lady probably gave me all the worst ones and here I am thinking "I am so lucky and I am so cool. I'm buying mangosteens!" Well, even if they ARE all the worst ones, I paid.. $2.50 for 2 kilos of their wonderfulness. That, and those silly foreigners always have the goofiest, wide-eyed, tooth-filled grins on their faces. I can't even begin to figure out what they might be thinking about that.

Guess what, she didn't give me the lame ones and, yes, they WERE wonderful!!

Oh, I forgot to mention..It had rained so there was a lot of nasty puddles and road grime. I had run to school and, in order to avoid all the nastiness of the road, had to put on my smelly running clothes to ride home in..Not only did I look like an alien in my biking garb, but I was standing there reeking in my 8-hour old sweat and nasty funk from the morning..maybe it wasn't a grin at all but an Oh-my-god-you-stink-so-bad-my-eyes-are-tearing-and-I'm-gonna-puke grimace. Hmm.