YOU CAN’T SCARE ME, I ATE FUGU AND YELLED AT A MOUNTAIN

Two more bucket list items have officially been conquered. And this time, I had to leave the country, risk death by dinner, and wake up early on purpose to do it.

I just returned from Japan, where I successfully crossed off:

• #82: Eat fugu (pufferfish)
• #17: Personally photograph Mount Fuji

🎣 Fugu Me? Fugu You!

For the uninitiated, fugu is the Japanese delicacy that might be your last meal if the chef screws up. It’s prepared from a pufferfish that contains enough poison to turn your nervous system into a Windows 95 shutdown sequence. It is 1,200 times more lethal than cyanide and has enough tetrodotoxin to kill 30 men (or 12 baby elephants). And there is no known antidote. If you get a bad batch, not even an industrial drum of Pepto will save you. In Japan, only licensed chefs are allowed to prepare it because “Oops, I left a speck of death on your plate” isn’t a great Yelp review.

Naturally, I was in.

And yes, I know the odds of dying from fugu are astronomically low these days. But when you’ve built your entire personality around crossing off strange bucket list items, you don’t pass on the opportunity to eat something that comes with a side of “potential autopsy.”

In case you are wondering, here is what happens if the chef sneezes while preparing the dish.

• Tingling lips and face
  Starts like mild Novocaine. You think, “How quirky!” No. It’s doom knocking.
• Numbness spreads
  Lips, then face, fingers, toes — your body is clocking out while your brain is like, “Wait, what?”
• Muscle paralysis begins
  Arms and legs go limp. You are now a floppy meat puppet.
• Loss of motor function
  Can’t stand. Can’t lift your arm. Can’t even flail for dramatic effect.
• Slurred or halted speech
  Your mouth forgets how to be a mouth. You try to say, “Call an ambulance!” but it comes out as “glorble blarp.”
• Diaphragm paralysis
  Breathing? That was fun while it lasted. Your lungs are officially on strike.
• Heart rate drops
  Your ticker is slowing like it just saw Monday on the calendar.
• Complete paralysis
  You can’t move. Can’t blink. You are essentially a conscious potato.
• Full awareness remains intact
  You feel everything. You hear everything. You know you’re dying. But your body’s like, “Sorry, bro. We’re closed.”
• Death by suffocation
  Not dramatic choking — just a slow, silent fade as oxygen stops making the rounds, while your still-working brain mentally screams into the void.

Fugu: because nothing says “fine dining” like watching your own slow-motion shutdown while everyone else is Instagramming their appetizers.

I went to a legit spot in Kyoto. Not some back-alley sushi shack run by a guy named Gary who once watched a YouTube video on pufferfish. I went to Watanabeya (海鮮処 わたなべや). This place had a certificate on the wall (I think. I don't know Japanese.), a stone-faced chef with terrifying knife skills, and a menu written entirely in kanji. So, I assume it said, “Eat at your own risk, Brett.”

They did have an English menu, but it only had about 12 things on it and none of it was fugu. I had to ask the waitress if they had it.She repeated my apparently butchered pronunciation about ten times just to make sure she wasn't about to serve me fermented horse liver. "Hai. Hai. Fugu. Yes."

She gave me this.

She pointed at two items. "This fugu. This fugu," and left me there to decide my fate.

Using my handy-dandy Google Translate camera, I saw that one was grilled and one was hot pot. Now, I like hot pot, but I just wanted to eat the death fish. Not a soup that had toxic fish in it.

I placed my order along with a couple of beers to get mentally prepared for this. I was psyched, but then the waitress came back to make it worse.

WAIT?!? I have to cook the Grim Reaper fish myself?

 

Was it good?

Sure. But also… not not rubbery.

Honestly, it tasted like tilapia that went to college and got a philosophy degree. Not bad, but you’re mostly eating it to say you ate it. Like escargot. Or airport sushi.

The highlight wasn’t the taste. It was the drama. Every bite came with just enough existential spice to make me rethink my life choices.

And it was worth every paranoid chew.

🗻 Mount Fuji: Now Featuring Me in the Frame

The second item on the list was much less dangerous, but way more majestic.

Mount Fuji has been on my bucket list since I first learned what a bucket list was. I’ve seen a million photos of it, but I wanted one that I took. Something that said, “I was there. I aimed my cheap tourist camera at greatness. And I didn't drop it in a koi pond.”

Now, if you’re planning to see Mount Fuji, here’s something the brochures don’t tell you: she’s a diva.

Fuji hides behind clouds like she’s contractually obligated to only appear for National Geographic photographers or people who didn’t fly across the world just for her. When I first saw it after getting off the bus, I snapped a quick shot.

Do you see it? Yeah. Me, neither. But it was there. I swear.

 

I saw it many, many times over the next few days, but the best shot was the evening of the next day.

 

There she was—towering, symmetrical, snow-capped, and absolutely perfect.

It looked like someone reached into a painting and hit "print."

I stood there for a good 20 minutes snapping photos, just in case she changed her mind and disappeared again like some geologically massive ghost.

✅ So That’s Two More Off the List

I’ve eaten a potential death fish like a daring contestant on Fear Factor: Sushi Edition.
I’ve personally photographed one of the most iconic mountains on Earth without having to Google “why is it cloudy at Mount Fuji?”

That brings me to a total of 14 completed bucket list items out of 171.

And I’m not stopping now.

Stay tuned. Because eventually I’m going to run with the bulls, bathe in a volcano, or build a robot that teaches itself to yodel. No promises on the order.

You can see the complete list here.

W - Western - #AtoZChallenge

 The trip home was always Bully's favorite part of each year. After a nearly 700-mile, two-month long drive getting his cattle to market, he could now relax and enjoy the beauty of this land he crossed every spring.

Every year, he paid the men who helped him get the cattle from Texas to Kansas (where they were worth five to eight times the Texas price) and released them to go find work elsewhere. He would make the long trip back home alone. He could make it back in a couple of weeks when he didn't have over 2,000 head of cattle to worry about and men to keep in line.

The obstacles he encountered on the way north to Kansas were barely an inconvenience when tackled alone on the way back. The Native Americans didn't even charge him to cross their land when he wasn't coming through with a large crowd disrupting their planting seasons.

Bully spotted a tree with a wide spread of branches right next to a creek. He didn't usually like camping out so close to creeks. Nocturnal animals coming out to drink would sometimes get too close when he was sleeping. However, there was no shortage of wood for a fire here. Keeping a good flame going throughout the night generally kept them away.

He set up his simple camp and fried some skillet camp bread to go with his dried beef. He prepped his coffee for brewing in the morning and gathered some more wood to keep the fire going all night.

Once satisfied, he laid back on his pack against the tree and listened to the evening sounds of Oklahoma as he drifted off to sleep. He loved this time of year.

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is W for Western.

L - Legends - #AtoZChallenge - "Just the Tip"

It had been a journey of many leagues. Magni had been traveling on foot for over a week. Almost halfway to his destination, he knew the end was in sight. He had caught a ride a few times on farmers' carts, but most people were not very trusting of people they did not know. That trust had only decreased since he left the land of his own realm, but he had not met any violence.

Magni had enough coin to buy food when he could find it, but little extra for accommodation. He had slept in stables, under trees, and under a bridge once during a storm. A few days ago, a washerwoman had taken pity on him and allowed him into her family's home for the night, but he knew he could not expect this to be common.

Tonight, trudging along the road as the sun was going down, Magni took notice of the increase in foot and horse traffic. This always meant he was coming close to a town or village. His spirits rose in hopes of being able to find a hot meal before finding a place to lay his head. He inquired of a passerby who informed him there was a tavern further up the road.

Magni looked forward to a hot soup or maybe some roasted boar. He decided he would even splurge on a flagon of ale or mulled wine. It was a nice night. After a full belly, any tree would do for shelter. He picked up the pace to get his hot meal.

Within an hour he came across the tavern. The paint was peeling on the sign above the door, but it could still be read. The Broken Traveler had a depiction of a man sleeping under several sets of watchful eyes. Magni was not sure if that logo was meant to be comforting to strangers, but it implied they were welcomed. He made his way inside and was surprised at the number of people spread about the room. This was a popular place for a tavern on the edge of town.

There were about a dozen tables in the middle that could have seated six people comfortably, but comfort didn't seem to be a concern here. There were ten to fifteen people crowded around each of the tables. More if you counted the girls in men's laps. The beer was flowing, conversation was lively, and the songs were cheerful. The place seemed friendly enough. Magni found an empty seat at one of the smaller tables near a wall as a cheer went up from one of the big tables.

Across the table from him sat a man who seemed to be having a quiet conversation with his drink. He only raised his head enough to take another sip and went right back to muttering into his cup. Magni offered a greeting, but the man gave little more than a nod as he continued to concentrate on his beverage.

Magni managed to flag down a serving girl and learned the cook had made his specialty tonight, a hearty stew that he only makes twice a year. She told him everyone was here for the stew. Magni asked for the stew and an ale. He leaned against the wall and stretched his arms above his head. It felt good to sit down. He wanted to stretch out his legs, but there were too many people milling about. It would have been rude to take up too much space.

Magni heard a loud cheer go up across the room. Several people moved to a small table on the other side of the tavern and patted the back of one of the men seated there. The serving woman from earlier pushed through the crowd and set a large beer before the man. The crowd cheered again as the man held up his new drink. Magni didn't know what everyone was celebrating, but was happy to get to be in the middle of it. This was a very lively crowd.

Magni's stew and ale arrived and he quickly realized how hungry he was. He downed the ale quickly and asked the server for another before she got away.

He tasted the stew and was immediately pleased with his decision. It was delicious. It had onions, garlic, and hard-boiled quails eggs with chucks of bitter gourd. The broth was spiced perfectly. He lifted the stew to take a long sip right from the bowl. He loved it.

A loud cheer erupted from the table next to him and so many people came crowding around, the bowl was almost knocked from his grasp. He saw a man seated being slapped on the back and people rubbing his head and he smiled from ear to ear. The serving girl showed up with Magni's ale and quickly apologized to Magni as she handed the beer to the happy man. She quickly ran off and was back a moment later with another for Magni.

Magni gulped down some of his ale and asked the man sharing his table what everyone was so happy about. The man didn't look up, but said "Lucky. Lucky man" to his cup. Magni shrugged his shoulders and popped an egg from the stew into his mouth.

He kept eating and enjoying the revelry around him. He soon ordered a third drink and was feeling very good.

The bowl was almost empty, so Magni raised it to his lips and used his spoon to shovel what was left into his mouth. He had over-filled his mouth and was having trouble chewing without dropping food back out. He was slowly getting it down when he felt something hard against the top of his mouth. Still chewing and moving things around, the hard part found its way to his teeth. It was too hard to chew. He managed to swallow everything but the hard piece and spit it out.

It was the top portion of one of the bitter gourds. It even had part of the stem still on it and was about the size of a large coin. He was looking at it as he washed out his mouth with another drink of ale.

Suddenly, the quiet man at the table with him burst out. "Lucky. Stew lucky. Lucky man!"

The crowds turned and looked at him with excitement in their eyes. He flashed a bewildered smile. People started rushing toward him and cheering. He tossed the chunk of gourd on the floor and cheerfully asked "What?"

The crowd stopped and looked at the chunk on the floor. A few people gasped and pointed. The man at his table, still looking into his glass started chattering, "no no no no no no no."

The serving woman showed up with a huge smile and a beer for Magni that he hadn't ordered and looked at the people staring at him. "What's going on?"

The closest man, red in face, shouted, "He threw down the tip. Just threw it on the dirty floor." The crowd nodded their agreement as they moved closer. Magni could sense the change in the crowd as they closed in. Several were throwing insults and comments at him.

"Do you think you're better than us?"
"Who turns down good luck?"
"Who are you to throw us to the dirt?"
"This town doesn't need your kind."

The serving woman leaned in close and yelled over the noise of the crowd. "You need to leave now."

"I haven't paid yet."

She answered quickly, "Just go if you know what's good for you."

Magni got up and slowly forced his way through the angry crowd. They hurled insults at him and a few spit in his face. He feared for his safety and had no idea why. As he approached the exit, he was pushed from behind and fell out the door. 

Half the tavern followed him out and continued shouting at him. He hurried to get away from these people, but several chased him down and blocked his path.

"You're a bad omen. You're not going into our town."

Magni tried to object. "But I'm headed south. I have to go that way."

One of the men pulled out a dagger. "Find another way."

Magni turned back up the path he had just traveled from and started back. Half a dozen men followed to be sure he was leaving town before they returned to the tavern.

He knew he would probably lose a day cutting through the woods to avoid the town when he turned south again, but he didn't understand why.

Magni smiled as he walked, "Well, at least I ate for free."

---

 

All this month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. A new post will go up every day (except Sundays) using a letter of the alphabet as the starting off point. My theme for the month is literary genres. I am writing in a different genre of flash fiction each day. Today's letter is L for Legend.

Give It Up

Last night, while walking home in the tropical Vietnam heat, I chafed the insides of my thighs bloody raw. Two days ago, I had a kerfuffle with some acid and destroyed my motorcycle helmet. And while these two events are unrelated, I am very thankful it wasn't the other way around.

As you let that joke sink in, please be advised that I don't really know what it means either, but I thought of it and had to put it out there. That's just how my brain works. My wife is almost used to it now. She gets to hear all my jokes before they've ripened and become palatable for public consumption.

As I sit here spread-eagled, dumping baby powder onto my "stranger danger no touch area", I'm reminded that things don't always work out as planned.

Seriously. I'm not even supposed to be in this country right now.

For the last year, Red and I have been saving for our trip back to the States to visit family. We were going to fly into Texas, visit the Bloggess at her new Nowhere Bookshop in San Antonio, rent a car to drive to our families in the Midwest and spend the whole month of June. For those of you keeping score, that is this month. We live 12 time zones away from our families so we knew this trip would be the last time we saw them for a very long time. So, we wanted to make it count.

Unfortunately, the entire world got sick at the beginning of the year and then two weeks ago America basically exploded. Not a good time to visit the States, plus we couldn't even if we tried since the borders of Vietnam are sealed. International travel isn't a possibility. So, our best guess for the moment is that our trip has been delayed until next year. However, until the vaccine materializes, things will still stay tense for the countries which are taking it seriously.

So, we have to stay home for a while. I can do that, but summer in Vietnam means an extra-crispy epidermis if you get caught in sunlight. We'll just stay in. Yet, this would not go as easily as expected. Last week, our television stopped working.

You know that sad way a TV looks when it is turned off?

That is identical to what ours looked like all the time.

While we were waiting for our television to be repaired, we decided the temperature of our living room was intolerable since the tile on our floors were too hot for our feet to comfortably touch them.

Do you remember the FLOOR IS LAVA game you played when you were a kid?

It is not as much fun when you are forced to do it for real.

We went out and bought a stand-up air conditioner to help Red stay cool when she sat at her desk and would hopefully keep our sneakers from melting. We hooked it up and were amazed at the difference that it made. And then, it flooded our kitchen.

The next day a representative from the appliance store came out to look at it. Not being able to speak to each other (the whole Vietnamese thing is kind of tricky), I showed him the video of the river flowing through our house. His solution was that we were not putting enough water in the unit. Yes, I typed that on purpose.
 The reason water was leaking out was because it needed more water.

That seemed ridiculous to me, but I often don't understand how things work in this country. So, I conceded to his wisdom, filled the tank to the top and let him go on his way after he observed the solved issue. And let me tell you something.

That little man was wrong!

Twenty minutes later, there was water everywhere.

That solved the floor lava issue, but the trade-off wasn't worth it. They brought us a different model the next day. One that kept the river inside the unit.

Despite the mishaps of the last few months, I recognize we have a great life. But it has been a stark reminder that things do not always go according to plan. Flexibility is useful for more than just the bedroom.

Even if COVID-19 had not permeated every crevice of the planet like rogue glitter at Christmastime, we would still have had to stay home to keep our house from melting.

End of Summer

All this week, my Facebook Memories have been reminding me that Red and I left the States three years ago this week. It has been fun seeing our adventures of navigating our new life in Beijing flashing across my screen each morning.

This was a big day for me.

In only five years of marriage, Red and I have changed jobs over a dozen times, visited nine different countries and lived in three of them. When we moved to Vietnam, we didn't even have jobs lined up. We just hopped on a plane confident that "we'll figure it out when we get there."

Even watching us from far, people should pretty easily be able to observe that neither Red nor I are scared of change. We definitely have things that concern us, but walking into the unknown is not one of them. And when you choose to live in another culture, that is a valuable quality to possess. An adventure into the unknown is thrown at us almost every time we step out of our house. It takes a long time to learn all the intricacies of another culture. We have learned that we must be extremely flexible and just go along with almost any mystery, confusion or change that is thrown at us.

I am experiencing a bit of change in my home right now. Summer has come to an end. As a teacher, this carries special significance. All the kids are headed back to school. However, this affects me in a different way than traditional teachers.

In this part of the world, kids go to school for much longer hours than in Western countries. And for most of these kids, even when they are not in school, they are still taking supplementary classes, extra lessons, tutoring appointments, advanced skills training, and many more things. 

When I was teaching in the classroom in Beijing, on Monday mornings I would often ask the students what they did over the weekend. I eventually stopped asking that question because the answer was always the same.

"On Saturday, I had an English class, a math class, and piano lesson. Then after lunch, I had another math class, a swimming class, and a calligraphy class. Then I did homework until I went to bed. On Sunday, I got up early to do homework until my school placement tutor came at ten. Then after lunch, I had my piano recital, Chinese class, and culture class."

These kids also have similar stories about what they do after school each day. It is almost always more classes and doing homework. I feel so sorry for them. The classes and stress never stop. It is work work work all the time.

Now, I am one of the teachers that many of these kids meet with after school and on weekends. I no longer work in the school system. I provide them with part of their supplemental English education. I spend months getting to know the kids and their learning patterns, how to get them to respond, how to draw them out and how to best teach them. Every lesson is individualized for that student. And a couple of times a year, it all changes.

Because I am an extra teacher in their already cramped schedule, things could change at any time. If a parent decides their kid needs to take another math class, they have to find a way to fit it into their schedule. So, occasionally, one of my students disappears. Although, I never know why. It could be a scheduling conflict or they feel like they have met the objective they were trying to achieve through classes with me. It could be because they don't like my style and sought out another teacher. Either way, I am never told. They just disappear one day. It's sometimes sad when a student I have really grown to enjoy falls off my schedule. There is never even an opportunity to say goodbye.

This month is one of the times when things really get shaken up. I may not be a school teacher, but the school schedule does affect me. I can only teach classes in the evenings and on the weekends because that is when the kids are free to take extra classes. And this month all the kids returned to school from their summer break. This means, their summer schedule has been disrupted and everything has to be redone to accommodate the new school year. New classes and teachers mean new challenges that must be met by their extra classes. This means every family re-assesses their educational needs. So, even though I do not work in a school, the lives of every one of my students are in transition. This means massive rescheduling happens. 

Almost overnight, half of my students are gone and replaced with new ones. I get new students all the time, but it is generally one here and there. In the fall, I get a bunch at once. And the ones I have grown to love over the last year are just gone with no notice. No one ever says, "This will be our last class together." They just disappear.

I know regular school teachers get new students every year, but on the last day of school each year, they know their students are moving on. They can say goodbye and are mentally prepared for it. When I get a new student, I don't know if they will be a part of my life for the next three weeks or the next three years. And I won't know until they disappear. It sucks.

Some kids, I am happy to see fall off my schedule, but there a few I genuinely miss and want to be able to follow up and see where their lives take them. But I'm getting used to it. I love my job and would not want to do anything else.

Well, if I have to work.

---

Today's post was inspired by the writing prompt, "It was the end of summer."

We Call Them Melons In America

A few days ago, I was practicing my typical morning routine of sitting on the toilet with my phone catching up on the news. In the middle of reading the latest on Black Ariel and the Blue Bell Ice Cream Licker, I got a message from my wife.

I immediately knew who she was talking about. We've been dealing with this guy for the last few days. Right next door to us, a construction crew has been putting up a new building and we share a gate with that property. So, we cross paths with the workers daily. Every now and then, one of them comes to us to use our electricity or inform us of excess noise that day or the shutting off of our water. It is always a difficult conversation since we do not speak the local language and have to do everything through inadequate translation apps.

However, this particular guy is especially "friendly." He frequently wanders over to make small talk when he sees me outside. This usually involves lots of hand gestures and pointing at the construction site with a big smile. I never know what he is trying to convey, but it seems like it is not pertinent information. Just friendly banter. Until he stepped up his game a few days ago.

He sat on our porch one day, so I grabbed a Pepsi and my phone and went to join him. I like to be friendly most of the time. Through our translation apps, we tried to talk to each other. After a couple of minutes, he asked to borrow my motorcycle. I made an excuse about how we were about to leave so it wouldn't be available. So, he asked to use it at lunch the next day. As I was telling him no, I started closing up the house so Red and I could leave. He then asked me how I secure my doors when I leave.

What kind of creepy question is that?

This made me nervous because he basically lives right next to us until the house is built. They always know when we are coming and going. And now he wants to know how well I lock my doors.

Due to my inability to effectively communicate all we can really do is try to be aware.

Not being able to communicate has been a common theme in my life. When I lived in Puerto Rico twenty years ago, I saw a sign on a counter that said CUIDADO: CALIENTE.

This sign made no sense to me. CITY: HOT
What?

I leaned closer to contemplate the meaning and it occurred to me as soon as my arms contacted the metal counter. Cuidado does not mean 'city.' It means 'CAUTION.'

The Spanish word for 'city' is ciudad. They may look similar, but the meaning is quite different.

As I rubbed the aloe on my forearms, I knew I would never forget those words again.

Living in Beijing, I almost did not get my work permit due to a communication error. I was asked to send off for my official Master's Degree for the paperwork that had to be filed. They told me that it must be sealed when we turn it into authorities. I did as they asked and it arrived two weeks later. I handed the envelope to my boss and she immediately ripped it open. I yelled, "NO! It has to still be sealed when we give it to them." She gave me a confused look as I sat and put my face in my hands. I had dropped a significant amount of money to get this and have it specially shipped. She had just ruined it.

She looked the degree over and asked, "Where is the seal?"

After a frustrating back-and-forth, I learned when they told me it must be sealed, what they meant was it must have the official State of Illinois International Authentication Seal. This seal is what proves to foreign governments that this is an official document.

She thought she had communicated clearly and I thought that I had understood. We were both wrong.

I have hundreds of stories like this, but let's come back to the present.

That 'creepy little dude' is now talking to my wife when I am not present and chooses to comment on her 'grapes.' If you have met my wife then you are probably aware that she is quite gifted in the area under her shirt. And in a culture that is known for not possessing those assets, it is even more apparent. But that does not mean he needs to be commenting on her grapes.

I head downstairs to confront this man and in my head I am running how I should play this. Should I be firm or gentle? Should I confront him in front of the other workers (to help keep him on their side of the wall) or take him to the side in private? I don't want to create too big of an incident. We do have to live among these people and we are the foreigners.

We may be the foreigners here but this cannot be allowed to happen?

I get downstairs to discover that is has escalated to the point that another worker is now involved and talking to my wife in the doorway. I start to step in to put an end to this harassment and I hear her telling the new man (who speaks a little English), he said: "Chau grapes are very big." Everyone (including my wife) laughed.

What is happening?

It turns out the 'creepy little dude' was wanting to plug into our electricity because the work site was having some work done and would be without power for a few hours. He wasn't being inappropriate at all. The Google Translate app just sucks when dealing with Vietnamese.

I even learned the reason he was asking about how I secured my doors a few days earlier was because our water pump was being replaced. When he discovered we were leaving for the evening, he was wondering how they were going to test the pressure once the new one was installed. There was no ill intent. We just don't have the ability to fully communicate. The extra speculation and guesswork about intent was misguided…again.

I have been putting off receiving official language instruction, but I believe it may be time to change my stance.

X - Expats

Today I'm not writing about a specific person. This is a group of people who mostly don't even know each other, but they have influenced my thinking immensely.

The Expat Community

Expat is short for expatriate. It simply means 'a person who lives outside their home country'.

When you choose to live outside your home country, you meet a lot of other people who have done the same thing. There is also a special bond that is formed almost immediately upon meeting these people. After all, you have several things in common.

• You are both foreigners in a strange land.
• You are both familiar with the struggles of maintaining legal status.
• You have each struggled to find where to buy items.
• You both struggle to understand not only the language but the strange events happening around you.
• You share a common language. (Without this part the bond is rather difficult.)
• You are both looking for friends.

When over 99% of all the people you meet don't speak your language, making new friends is difficult. So when you hear your language being spoken in the marketplace, it catches your attention. Crossing paths with someone who you can actually communicate with is a big deal. However, there are some drawbacks to this.

Just speaking the same language or being from the same country is not enough for a friendship. There are people I have attached myself to just because they are someone I can talk to outside my home. Within a few days of meeting them, I realized that is probably the only reason I maintained this relationship.

When you are in your own country surrounded by people who speak your language, you have choices in who you hang out with. You form a group of friends you enjoy spending time with. Once you step out of that scenario, you take what you can get. Sometimes you realize very quickly that if you were actually back in the States, there is no way you would be friends with this person. I am not saying anything bad about these people. They are just not my preferred crowd if I have a choice.

However, there is another group that really gets under my skin. In every country I have been in, there is always a group of people who just love to trash the country they are living in. The favorite pastime of many of the expats I have met is complaining about how stupid, uncivilized, unorganized, rude, or dirty the locals are.

I just don't get it.

Sure. I see things now and then that I think could be done a different way. However, I have that view based on the way I am used to doing something. That rarely means that it is actually the way it should be done. It is just the way I grew up doing it. Plus, different parts of the world are in different stages of development, with different cultural systems, different histories, different resources, and many other things. Things are going to be different sometimes out of necessity. And I have many examples of times where I have learned that the "new" way I see something done ends up being far superior to what I grew up doing.

However, my biggest complaint with this attitude is not the unwillingness to recognize the resourcefulness of the locals. It is the overall negative attitude.

Especially since that person chose to live here.

I have listened to literally hundreds of people over the years drone on and on about how much better things are in their home country (Australia, England, Germany, America, etc.) than they are at the place we are sitting. My response is always the same. "Then go home."

There are hardships involved with living overseas. I will never pretend that there are not. However, it is a choice to decide if they are worth it or not. And if a person does not think they are worth it, I have no problem with that. Everyone has their own preferences. But if they think it is not worth it, then leave. Go to a place that is more to your liking. Why choose to be miserable?

A few months ago, my wife made a remark about how much we loved our life here. The woman she was with turned up her nose. "You actually like it here. Why?" Red gave her a list of things we love about this place. The woman retorted with her complaints about the place. However, she had been here less than six months and had already found a job in another country. She was moving on.

I had no problem with that. Go where you are happier. Plus, I didn't really like her anyway, so I had no problem with her moving on.

However, some people will never be happy or satisfied anywhere. The perpetual complainers, the eternal pessimists, and the grumblers will always find something to be unhappy about. And their greatest satisfaction in life seems to be finding others who will help them reinforce their negative outlook on everything. I've learned to watch for them and avoid them. Those people are poison.

Slowly, I have gathered a few people (mostly Aussies) here in Hội An, Vietnam who love living here. These people not only enjoy life (as I like to do) but help each other. We trade secrets on where to find key items, the great restaurants, and coffee shops, tips on how to ship things, travel, get service, etc.

Whether traveling the world or sitting in your hometown, there are healthy and unhealthy people to associate with. It is well worth the extra time to weed out the bad ones and find your tribe.

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This month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. Each day this month, people around the world are writing blog posts and working their way through the alphabet. Each person decides their own personal theme. I am writing about people who have affected my life.

N - Now (Red)

Next month, my wife and I will be celebrating our 5^th wedding anniversary. Our marriage has been a whirlwind of adventure. Let me just list some truths about our relationship story.

• I proposed to Red before I had met her or knew her name. I had never even seen a picture.
• I hacked a state database to learn where she worked so I could send her flowers.
• The time frame between us picking a wedding date and the day of the wedding was 8 days.
• One year later, we vacationed in Turkey the week before their military coup. Ankara got bombed days before we were there. A Syrian refugee searched our car one day for bombs before letting us leave his camp.
• We moved to China 17 months after getting married.
• We now live in Vietnam.
• In the short time we've been together, we have lived in three different countries and visited seven. We've seen both U.S. coasts and much of the country in between.

Life has been busy and it has been great, but months ago someone asked me a question that still rattles around in my head.

 "Weren't you concerned that moving to another country might be too much strain for a couple so recently married?"

It was a legitimate question. Moving twelve time zones away to a foreign land is immensely stressful and scary and technically we were still a new couple. But I don't remember being worried about that.

We were honest with ourselves and each other during the moving process. We knew there would be some huge challenges once we got there and we recognized that we didn't even know what those challenges were going to be. We also knew that one of our biggest strengths as a couple is our ability to communicate. We talk to each other.

I mean really talk.

I was concerned about the stress of the move and the adjustments that would be required, but I was not concerned about how it would affect our relationship. I think it goes back to how we started dating.

Red and I met online through each other's blogs. I'm not going to tell the whole story here, but innocent conversations online grew into more. This gave us a chance to get to know each other outside of looking for romance. When the possibility of a relationship began to grow, we threw some hard truths at each other. We even had a 'red flag' conversation. On that phone call, we each admitted things about ourselves that would make us look bad. (For me: I rarely hold a job more than a year, I had two ex-wives, etc)

We candidly stated our stances on social, political and religious issues. We explained how we felt about kids, finances, ethics, family traditions and much more. We just put it all on the line.

We talked in depth about all the things that a lot of couples don't get into for years. I believe we both knew this relationship had the potential to go somewhere and it just needed to all be out in the open. We didn't want to waste each other's time if there was something one of us would not be able to live with. Why wait years to learn something and then break up?

This also caused us to call each other out on some bad communication habits we had each picked up over the years. For myself, she quickly corrected how I respond to questions when I don't appreciate the direction of a conversation. With some honest self-reflection and looking back at how this practice had not been helpful in my last marriage, I was able to change it.

This is just one of the ways that being in this woman's presence has made me a better person.

All of this is also why I was not worried about how we as a couple would handle our big move to China. We had each other's backs and knew that.

I am so in love with my wife and look forward to where the next five years will take us.

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This month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. Each day this month, people around the world are writing blog posts and working their way through the alphabet. Each person decides their own personal theme. I am writing about people who have affected my life.

Life is Good

Several years ago, I made the fateful decision to combine my gift for teaching with my love for foreign culture and entered into a graduate TESOL program. I started working on my Master's Degree to teach English to speakers of other languages. I had always been fascinated by people from other countries and thought this would be a great way to get to work with them on a regular basis.

This decision led me to move to a bigger city where there would be more opportunities to work with foreigners. Soon after updating my Facebook profile about my intentions (not only for a job, but for school requirements also), I got the attention of someone in China.

After completing my degree, I accepted that job and the adventure began.

Five years ago, the furthest I had ever traveled was Puerto Rico. I had never even needed a passport. In the time since I made the above Facebook post, I have been to Germany, China, Canada, Turkey, Taiwan, Vietnam and Hong Kong. My wife and I have spent the last two and a half years living outside the United States. We currently live on the coast in central Vietnam.

My life is far from perfect, but I love it. This is the happiest I have been in my entire adult life. I love the house we live in. I love that we are in a small coastal town where it never gets cold. I am one of the lucky few in the world who actually loves his job. And I am married to a beautiful, intelligent woman whom I adore. Life is good.

Look Out, Vietnam

Last week, my entire life changed.

I have experienced what some would already call big changes in the last few years.

• My children moved out
• I got married
• We moved from the U.S. to China
• We moved from the big city of Beijing to the more rural town of Hoi An, Vietnam

Despite all those changes, last week was different. I broke down and rented a scooter for the month.

Growing up in rural America, having a vehicle is just a given. You have to have one. There is no other way to get to your destination. Even living in a bigger city, typically people have a vehicle to get around. There are exceptions, but not having a car is not the norm.

It was a bit of an adjustment going to China and giving up our cars, but Beijing literally has the best public transportation system in the world. I'm not just saying that because I was impressed. It really is ranked as the top in the world.

Once we figured out how it all worked, there was honestly no need for us to have a car. We could get anywhere we needed to be by using a taxi, subway, or bus. Plus, it was crazy cheap.

Then, we moved to Da Nang, Vietnam. Reliable public transportation is virtually nonexistent there, but living in the center of a big city (1.8 million) meant everything we might need was fairly close. We just walked everywhere. We were already used to doing a lot of walking because of our time in Beijing.

In the end, we settled in Hoi An. Hoi An is much much smaller and we live out on the edge of town. We don't even have an address. This means we cannot receive mail or order for food delivery. There is an outdoor food market near our house, but anything else requires a significant hike. We don't mind the walk, but there is a limited amount of options near us and the trips to see something new required a big time commitment and a lot of sweat (remember this is tropical Vietnam).

So, last week we rented a scooter to see how much we would actually use one.

It took me about 12 hours to answer that question.

We will use it A LOT.

There is a place I love to go for breakfast, but it would take me 30 minutes to walk there. On the scooter, it's only about 7 minutes. I've eaten there every day this week. I can pop over to the market across town that has a few more Western goods the market near us does not have.
And my favorite part…I can more efficiently explore our new surroundings.

I love to wander the streets of a new city and start discovering all the little-hidden gems as I build my mental map of how the city is laid out. This takes a long time to accomplish on foot and it is something that Red does NOT enjoy doing. Now that I have the scooter, I can tear up and down the streets and quickly discover what road meets up with what and find all those little shortcuts. I have learned so much about the layout of our city in the last few days.

And today we ventured outside the city. Having the scooter gives us the freedom to go explore without having to pay a cab to just cart us around all day. Especially when we don't really know where we want to go half the time anyway.

Today we went to Tháp Chăm Chiên Đàn to see some 12th-century towers built by the people of the Champa Kingdom which existed from 192 and was absorbed by Vietnam in 1832. We figured if we are going to start calling this country home, we should probably start learning a little bit about it.

Now that I'm mobile, no part of this country is safe. I'm ready to see it all.

Making Friends With the Locals

I grew up out in the country. For the majority of my childhood, we couldn't even see another house from our yard. We were familiar with the wildlife of the area and lived among all kinds of creepy-crawlies. Mice, spiders, snakes, lightning bugs, are just part of life when you are surrounded by grass and trees. We even had raccoons, skunks, salamandars, deer, foxes, snakes and other animals we caught as pets.

Throughout most of my adult life, I have lived in town. There are critters in the cities also, but not nearly as many. Snakes just aren't as interested in concrete as they are dirt. Dirt is sexier.

Since leaving the States, I have only lived in big cities. I spent a year in San Juan, Puerto Rico (355,000). Almost two years in Beijing (28 million) in an apartment on the 11th floor and then three months in Da Nang, Vietnam (1,300,000). So, I've never really gotten familiar with the wildlife of anywhere but southern Illinois. But a couple of weeks ago, Red and I found the house we wanted and moved to Hoi An.

Now, Hoi An has 120,000 people. However, we do not live in town. We live way out on the edge and are surrounded by rice paddies. We love our big new house, but there is no urban wall of separation between us and nature anymore. Red learned pretty quickly that she was just going to have to come to terms with the ants. They are not going to go away. It doesn't matter how clean you keep your kitchen, they are still going to invite themsleves in. They're quite rude.

Next, are the geckos.

These cute little guys are everywhere. They range in size from one inch to almost eight inches. It is fun to watch them stalk their prey across the wall and then take out a moth or cockroach. Although, the bigger ones can be a little unnerving when they bark at you.

Next, we have a snake that lives in the small garden on our front porch.

He just skulks around the flowers looking for something to eat and doesn't really pay attention to us, but we have learned that he is venomous. His teeth are typically unsuccessful at penetrating human skin because they are designed for small prey, but it was good to know. The locals told me that venomous or not, we should leave snakes alone. Many Vietnamese believe that they are actually remnants of people's ancestors and it is very culturally disrespectful to bother the snakes.

 All those critters I can deal with. Here is the one that is taking some getting used to. This video is from my Facebook page.

  

This guy is huge. AND about 90 seconds later he was dead. I didn't want that thing clomping around at night keeping me up with his loud footsteps.

Since posting that video, I have been informed by many of the locals that you actually want those spiders in your house. Those are the "good spiders" my New Zealand friend told me. They hunt down and eat roaches, smaller spiders, and mosquitoes. So, we are changing our approach toward them.

  

We are trying to make peace and let them be. They could probably overpower us anyway.

Vietnamese Banking

If you follow me on social media (Facebook, Twitter, Instagram). you are already well aware of the fact that I LOVE Vietnam.

I have lived in Vietnam for just over three months and I love it here. I love the food, the friendliness of the people, the weather, the cost of living, the clean air…absolutely everything. It is incredible here.

On a daily basis, I turn to my wife and say "This is SO much better than freakin' China!"

We had some great experiences in China and we learned a lot, but it cannot be denied that things are so incredibly and unnecessarily difficult there. Anything you try to do is stifled by mountains of ridiculous and redundant paperwork that must be completed and filed at 27 different government offices scattered all around the country who do not communicate with each other to share your information.

To give you a glimpse at what I am talking about, I will tell you about a recent task I had to tackle in Vietnam. I dreaded this task so much, I put it off for almost three months. Last week, I opened a bank account.

I was able to put it off for so long because the cost of living in Vietnam is unbelievably low. We have lived the past three months off the cash we brought with us from China. My pay has been getting dumped into an international account, but I haven't had access to it because I did not have a local bank to funnel the money through. We just lived on (not only bought groceries but paid rent and all our bills) the cash we had on hand FOR THREE MONTHS!

Our cash was starting to run low, so I reluctantly succumbed to the pressure to finally take care of this. I really dreaded it because my only experiences with opening a bank account in another country have been in China and it was not pleasant.

Take your time to count all the smiles in the room.
I'll wait.

Visiting the bank in China is like going to visit someone in prison:

• You have to wait until your number is called
• You must carry proper identification 
• The person you are talking to is behind a thick pane of glass
• Guards with large batons are watching your every move
• The tiniest little (or imaginary) infraction can get you thrown out
• There's always someone screaming in a back room somewhere

And all of this had to be tolerated to visit the bank for anything. The first time I went was to open an account and it was SO much more complicated…and took four attempts to get it right. Seriously, I went back four times. It was not pleasant. Add to this the fact that China doesn't really let you choose your own bank and it gets worse. You have to bank where your employer tells you to because they will only pay through direct deposit and they will only do it at the bank where they do business. And then, in order for you to pay your company-supplied insurance, they will only deduct that amount from a particular bank (not the same bank, a different one because…well, you know…reasons. Shut up!). They don't deduct it from your pay, they will deduct it from your separate bank account.

This means you must open accounts at these two banks (one to receive your pay and one to pay your insurance) and each month you must transfer money from one to another to have the money in the proper place for the insurance.

And none of this was told to me until after I had already gone out and opened an account at the bank I had decided would offer the best customer service to a foreigner. So, after doing all the research to choose just the right bank for me, I wasn't able to use it. I spent the next two weeks sitting in bank lobbies getting all the proper accounts needed to be able to receive pay that never ended up going through any of those banks anyway.

China was fun!

So, you may understand my reluctance to start this process again.

So, back in Vietnam now, after doing a lot of research and talking to other expats about what banks they use, I finally decided on the bank I wanted. The bank I chose had an impressive English-language website (this is one of my requirements) that suggested I register myself with their bank before I go in to save time on the paperwork on site.

So, I started an account and plugged in all my info (passport #, name, address, etc.) and hit enter. I then received an email asking me to set an appointment to come in. I scheduled it to be as soon as possible and set out the door with all my legal documents under my arm.

Twenty minutes later, I walk into the "bank"

Does this look like a bank to you?

This was not what I was expecting. I had to go back outside to ensure I was at the right place. This was the bank. Except, they don't like to call it a bank. They call it a hangout.

As soon as I walked in, a young girl approached me. "You must be Mr. Minor. Have a seat. Would you like a drink?"

They had water, juices, several types of coffee, and even beer.

You conduct your banking business
at a coffee bar counter.

I sat in one of the large cushioned chairs by a low round table while she whipped me up an espresso. She returned with my coffee and the paperwork from my online registration. Over the course of the next ten minutes that I was there (yes, only 10 minutes), she got a copy of my passport, had me sign two papers, gave me a bank card with my name already printed on it and explained to me some of the features of the new account I now had.

DONE!

I stepped back outside unsure about what had just happened. That was way too easy. Even for America. A new bank account in minutes? I didn't need any of the paperwork I brought with me? And I could have drunk a beer if I had ordered one. Incredible!

Here is part of what saved time. The place is able to have the more personable setup because they don't handle any money on site. I could not have made a deposit if I wanted to. This bank is a purely digital bank. It is designed to all be done online. If you want to make a cash deposit, there are a few banks around town they are partnered with where you can do that for a small fee, but it's rare that people do that.

Because there is no money on site, there is no need for all the extra security, guards at the doors, thick glass walls, or cameras everywhere. This place facilitates paperwork and they are incredibly efficient at it. Since I had already filled out all the needed information online before I came in, they didn't need me to do that when I got there. In fact, the only reason I had to go to the office at all was was to physically sign the papers, let them scan my passport, and hand me my card. The only reason they don't just mail you your card and have you do the other two digitally (which would be easily possible) is due to banking regulations to prevent fraud. You must physically show up with your passport. Small price to pay for this kind of ease.

I love this country more and more every day. Vietnam is awesome.

Underwater Surprises

I have this new thing I do. I grab all my things, tell my wife to pack her bags and we hop a plane to a tropical beach. And then, to make things just a little more exciting, we never go back. It's kind of fun. You should try it some time.

This is a literal 8 minutes walk from my apartment.

Actually, I've only ever done this once, but I think it's my new thing. It's who I am now.

It may seem like a daring move to do something like this. Many people have said things like, "Oh, it must be so difficult living in a different country" and "How do you survive not being able to speak the local language?" and "Isn't it really hot there?"

However, living on the coast in Vietnam has its advantages. Here are a few:

There are some breath-taking views

Fruity beach drinks that cost less than
a bottle of water in the States.

Incredible seafood dinners daily.

Bikini contests on the beach near our apartment

These are just a few of the things that make the hardships worth it. In addition to the pictures, it never gets cold here. I haven't worn pants in over a month. My new life does not require an alarm clock. Insanely cheap cost of living. I swim in the ocean every night after sundown. No one here knows who Nickelback is.

So, in case you can't already tell, I think life here is pretty sweet. I am still amazed every day by some new thing I discover and fall in love with. When we first got here, it was the Vietnamese ice milk coffee. This week, it's the back alley noodle shops. I love it here.

Despite all the things I am in love with and enjoy looking at, I am slowly finding the few things I don't care for. This one started last week.

I mentioned earlier that I swim in the ocean each night after sundown. I do and it has been great. I've never really been much of a swimmer. I can swim, but just never had any desire to. But living so close to the beach, I thought this would be a good habit to develop. Plus, it's good for you. So, each night I head down and splash around in the water for an hour or so.

After a couple of weeks, I really began to notice how much the salt water made me itch. I would scratch all the way home AND it would always take me a while to get home because I would wander through the back neighborhoods to pick up banh mi sandwiches or my quang noodles. I love the food here.

Some days, I would feel like I was being jabbed with tiny needles while I was swimming. Not incredibly painful, but definitely unpleasant. It even turned me off from swimming for a few days. If you know me, I'm not really much for physical activity. So, it's pretty easy for me to quit stuff like this.

A few days later, on a Da Nang Facebook group post, someone asked if the beach infestation had subsided yet. That got my attention and I started reading through the posts. I soon found out what had been causing my discomfort.

SEA LICE!!!

Apparently, there are all kinds of lice.

• Head lice - regular lice you get in your hair
• Body lice - lice that are too stupid to ask directions to the head
• Pubic lice - these are the party lice (street name - "CRABS")
• Various species that attack different animals

However, I really thought we were safe from these little bastards in the water. Turns out the earth always finds new ways to get you. I mean, how many kinds of lice do we need to worry about? Are there toilet lice, coffee lice, toothpaste lice, shoe lice? Does there have to be nasty bugs everywhere?

A little more research showed me that sea lice aren't actually even lice at all.

They are baby jellyfish.

Aren't they cute?

This information makes it a little less disgusting. I was not being infested with a nasty bug, but just getting stung by baby jellyfish when caught in the fabric of my swim trunks. This can be easily solved by swimming naked, but Vietnam is still rather conservative concerning adult nudity.

It's not really a big deal as long as you don't have an allergic reaction to the stings, but it's still not pleasant. The internet suggests showering thoroughly after swimming to get them all off you. Or you can do like I do and wait until the surge of little demon babies has passed. I'm told this happens for a few weeks every summer and then the beaches are clear again.

I can wait it out.

Our First Vietnam Adventure

Red and I have now been in Danang, Vietnam for almost three weeks and haven't really gotten to see much outside of our immediate neighborhood and a whole lot of each other. We are a little tired of each other. Since we are not on vacation and actually live here, this time has been spent performing mundane tasks that really aren't much fun.

• Deciding which bank we should use
• Locating nearby grocery stores
• Learning our way around the city
• Discovering where the post office, hospital, pharmacy, police station, et cetera are located
• Comparing money exchange rates around town to get the best deal
• Applying for jobs
• Exploring all the little back alleys to find where the best goodies are
• Trying to make new friends
• Discovering where I can go that she won't follow me

It's not been miserable by any means, but we've been itching to get out there and start seeing some of the sites and beauty of this wonderful country. Yesterday, we decided to take a day off and do just that. Since I have now started work, we know the money will be starting to come in and we don't have to be quite as tight with our finances.

We rented a motor scooter first thing in the morning and decided to tackle the city traffic to get out of Danang.

I recorded that video the first time I was here back in March. Since then, I've decided I'm just going to have to get used to it.

We hopped on our hog and drove off into the jungle-covered mountains of the Son Tra peninsula with no idea what was out there other than the monkeys that I was really hoping to run into.

But we never saw any

However, we did discover lots of other things. First, we stumbled upon a large Buddhist temple, Chùa Linh Ứng.

Nestled way up in the mountain

Inside one of the smaller buildings

Many statues of Buddha on various animals

The main temple

Inside the main temple

The entire area is covered in beautifully-kept gardens

The tallest Buddhist statue in all of Asia

All signs are in Vietnamese.
If you want to know what they say, 
you have to learn Vietnamese.

We eventually ventured further up the mountain and just enjoyed the view. Vietnam really is a beautiful country.

My wife likes to remain anonymous online.
Because of...ISIS, I think.

We tackled a few jungle paths.

After running around the jungle for a while and not seeing even one single stupid monkey we came out to discover we had a flat tire. We were parked at a small lean-to where three guys were hanging out in hammocks renting life vests to people who wanted to venture down to the water. Luckily, one of them had a tire pump. He pumped us up and frantically pointed down the mountain.

GO! GO! GO!

We got about halfway down when I could feel that the tire was getting low again. There was no way we were going to make it back into town. We were way out in the middle of nowhere on a jungle road in Vietnam and had no idea what we were going to do. We pulled up to a little shack that had drinks for people venturing up to see the temple.

Using our skills of American pantomime that we perfected while living in China, we got the guy running the shack to understand our problem. We needed a tire pump to get us a little further down the mountain. Our plan was to do this as many times as it took to get us back to Danang.

Instead of airing up our tire, he parked our scooter to the side of his little place and started taking off the tire.

Twenty minutes later, we were back on the road. He had patched the leak and charged me only 50,000₫ (just over $2). That patch took care of us for the rest of the day. Thank goodness for people who know how to do stuff.

From there we headed south to the city of Hoi An to check out the ancient city and explore their marketplace.

I wandered off while Red was negotiating prices for some cinnamon boxes and was grabbed by a woman who told me my ears were too hairy. Not the best pick-up line, but she was cute so I followed her to a small bed. She sat me down and set to work on cleaning me up.

My ears were hot the rest of the day.

That was not at all what I was hoping for and it cost me 60,000₫, but now my ears are really sexy.

The rest of the day, we ate amazing food, saw more beautiful sites, discovered places to go back and visit later and got horribly sunburned (the tropical sun will do that when you spend the day on a scooter). It was an amazing day and we cannot wait to venture out and tackle it all again.

Once our peeling skin grows back, of course.