Vietnam Day 41 (7/18/09)

Ahh Saturday - I cannot possibly describe how blissful it was to sleep in until 10:00 this morning. The opportunity to be lazy is like a magical gift from the heavens. True, it means I missed formal breakfast, but I was perfectly content with the yogurt and bread with jelly left out for stragglers. Sadly, my beautiful lazy day was interrupted when we all went to the "obligatory" soccer game with the People's Committee. I begrudgingly changed out of my nice clean cloths and back into my grimy work shirt, since we all had to look like a team. I only changed to support my team since I won't be playing - I cut the bottom of my foot on some broken brick embedded in the mud yesterday at the work site and all the chauvinists on the People's Committee team don't want girls to play anyway because they "won't be able to play at their usual level." It really makes no sense for us to agree to those terms because a lot of the American girls are better than the guys at soccer (especially Alex, who's dying to play). Kendra's plan is to go out and play anyway and then "accidentally" kick the People's Committee guys in the shins while aiming for the ball - I showed my support for her noble mission with hysterical laughter.

The soccer pitch was an extremely muddy patch of ground on the side of the road with no nets on the posts and cows grazing just behind each goal. The People's Committee players looked so serious about it with their team jerseys but we didn't care. Despite their request for no female players, our starting lineup included Alex, Kendra, and Van Anh. Our lineup changed a lot throughout the game and we frequently had at least two more players than the opposing team - we even had three goalies near the end of the game. Despite these advantages, we still lost, but at least our muddy players had fun.

A little while after the game ended, we went for dinner at the contractor's house. We were greeted by the contractor's family, which surprisingly included Ha and Yen (two of the cutest little girls at the school) who turned out to be his nieces. They helped us make a tasty drink from tamarind, water, and a lot of sugar. While we drank, the girls adorned us with crowns made from string and yellow flowers and their grandmother proudly pointed to tons of pictures of them that had been slipped under the glass tabletop. The crepe-like pancakes were delicious (though they were filled with perhaps a few too many beansprouts) but the seating arrangement during the meal felt a little strange. There was a girls table where we sat loudly gossiping and laughing about the boys who had their own table so they could drink. There was sporadic exuberant clapping that got more and more frequent as the "men" continued to take shots. For once, I was happy for the sex discrimination. By the time we left, the sun was rapidly setting and we would have to ride home on the same little paths we take every day but this time in total darkness - I didn't need any alcohol to make that a wobbly ride. It was actually really frightening - I had a tiny bit of light from the motorbikes of the People's Committee members riding behind us, but that light was inconsistent and the light on my bike wasn't working. We all did pretty well, systematically calling down the line to warn each other of upcoming bridges (none of which we rode over obviously) and approaching motorbikes. The People's Committee were less organized - one of them was riding next to me and he kept swerving in and out of my "lane," completely freaking me out (maybe he'd had too much rice wine). Still, we all got back without any major accidents and I even rode through the market for the first time, not necessarily a big accomplishment since there were almost no people there at that time of night, but I'll take it.