Crossing the Line Into Parody (Literally)

I was out grocery shopping the other day when I heard a vaguely familiar song come over the intercom. It sounded kind of like Madonna's 'Like a Virgin', but I something about it was off; it was man singing, instead of her. There were some odd sound effects in the background, almost like a saw. Then I realized the lyrics were wrong too. And finally, when it reached the chorus, it wasn't 'Like a Virgin' but 'Like a Surgeon', the parody by Weird Al Yankovic.

I don't think I've ever heard a Weird Al Yankovic parody played as background music before. Do they just not know it's a parody because it's in English? Do they not care because it has the same music?

Obviously this isn't too important. Just a small nugget of culture shock.

Colonel Ho? Uncle Sanders?

One of the most popular, and fast-growing chains in HCMC is Kentucky Fried Chicken, or 'Ga Ran Kentucky', as the locals have it:



I have it on good authority that KFC is also tremendously popular in China. Actually, some years ago I remember reading a short story entitled "When Tiger Fighter met Cowboy Chicken", about a young Chinese worker at a fast-food restaurant who struggles with the desire to move on up in the world while at the same time discovering that corporate tyranny wasn't all that different from Communist tyranny.

In Vietnam, however, I suspect that KFC has a different appeal altogether:



Coincidence? I think not! Pollo to the People!

Most Surreal Moment in Teaching (Number 1)

Today in my General English 2 class I reached the dizzying heights of Chapter 8. subject: heroes. I asked my students who their hero was, and received the rather depressing answer that they didn't have heroes, not even Ho Chi Minh. To brighten things up a bit I gave them a short handout on Paul Robeson, which explained both his singing career and his struggles as a Communist in Cold War-era America. One of the students raised his hand and asked "Teacher, what is a Communist?".

Talk about shipping coal to Newcastle. I drew the hammer and sickle on the board, and that seemed to work. But you never can tell...

When it Rains...

My life is about to get a great deal busier.

One of my classes was canceled last Monday and I was left with only 14 teaching hours a week - enough to survive but not much fun, and of course it left me with far too much time on my hands.

Within the last three days, however, I've been given three new classes for a total of 26 hours a week, plus I've signed up for an intensive two-month Vietnamese course, which meets for ten hours a week,

So, from 14 to 36 working hours. Should be fun.

I Beg to Differ

Some time ago I posted about the persistence of the shoe-shiners and postcard-sellers on the street. I have to say, their pluck and determination gets old very quickly.

You can't patronize them even if you want to, because it's never just one peddler. Get your shoes shined and within seconds there will be about a dozen more people all asking for your money; two or three more shoe-shiners, some kids selling gum, an old lady selling postcards, two more people selling wallets and sunglasses, another person selling books, someone selling bottles of water or hollowed-out coconuts, and who knows what else...

That doesn't even count the constant entreaties from motorbike drivers, cyclo drivers, and straight-up beggars.

But the women with babies are the worst. Not because of the emotional blackmail, but because most of them are fake! The babies - and sometimes the young children hawkers too - are controlled by an evil criminal syndicate which forces them to work and then takes all their money, so you're not doing them much good in any case.

Facing a desperate crowd like that, you can't blame them for wanting help - but you really resent them, because there's simply no end to it, and no matter what you do they'll still be back.