Oakhouse Miyazakidai is the name of our current guesthouse, the home of 5 Americans (us) and around 20 other residents.  Given that our financial limitations afford a short leash, Oakhouse is our most common restaurant, office, and bar – it’s where we eat, work, and play.  And when Jed arrived, we ate, worked, and played aplenty.

This was just the beginning

Here is a picture from Jed’s birthday, and there are so so many things to point out.  Yes, those are 4 bottles of Wild Turkey, and yes Rob seems transfixed by them.  Yes it’s cold enough inside that we wear jackets and beanies, even when drinking.  Yes the walls are mottled and dirty, and yes those computers are probably from the early 90s.  And, finally, yes Jed is not in this picture, but don’t worry, he was very much a part of these festivities.

With Jed out here, this was one of our first gatherings with everyone, and I have to say it wasn’t a mild night…

Oh Jed, we all know how this is going to end

The irony here is that we didn’t buy all this alcohol – in fact, we’re trying to detox after all our bonding with our Vietnamese friends.  Mr. Isume and Mr. Mickey – in the top photograph – supplied all of this, and what were we going to do?  We can’t be rude guests in a guesthouse to our gracious friends…

So here at Oakhouse, we were well on our way to bonding as a team and bonding across cultures.  And we’re unfortunately finding that sharing drinks so easily fills the gaps left by their limited English and our virtually nonexistent Japanese.

Our preparation for this wedding reception/party started a little out of step.  We weren’t sure what to wear, what to bring as gifts, what to expect – anything.  Rob’s phone conversation with one of his students went something like this: “What should we wear? . . . Oh no – not where – wear like clothing . . . whatever makes us comfortable?  Should we at least have button-down shirts? . . . ok ok, we’ll figure it out.  Well what should we bring as a gift? . . . oh ok, no money? . . . what was that?  . . . an amulet? Ok, we’ll figure that out too…”  Didn’t bode too well.

Turns out that my white button-shirt and slacks were way too dressy, and I walked out of our room into the hallway to be greeted by a chorus of “whoa’s” and “ha – very handsome” (by which they meant “formal”).  So I went back to change into jeans and a striped shirt.  Also, we didn’t have an amulet.

11:20am We arrived somewhat awkwardly and are shepherded into the banquet room, calm but for small chatter and the air of anticipation.  Everyone smiled very sweetly, and it was clear that no conversations in English were going to happen beyond our small group of students.

11:28am We took our seats at two of the closest tables to the stage.

11:30am We were poured hefty mugs of Saigon Green beer.

11:31am A toast was proposed at the table and someone blurts out “100%,” which means drain your glass.  The mugs are immediately refilled, and I mean immediately.

11:33am Another toast was proposed and the Chief Accountant tapped the bottom of his glass, indicating another “100%”  The mugs are quickly refilled.

11:35am Another toast, this time beginning with “100%” and punctuated by a loud “Bo Hai Ba Yo!” – One Two Three Drink!

11:38am Another toast, another 100%…so far, no Jet Set Zero member has proposed a toast, nor will one ever at this wedding.  The revelry was all by the Bank staff, aka our students.  They were having a grand old time, and we were along for the ride.  Also, no other table even has beers nor have voices other than ours rose above the ambient chatter.

11:39am  One of my students – the lead enabler in the group – turned to me, jabs a finger in my direction, and says, “Tonight I will kill you!  You will all die!”  By which she meant that she’d drink us under the table.  Another person from the bank warned us that she was the “strongest drinker in our department.”  We were hesitant about all the drinking, but the bank staff knew the bride intimately and they were proposing all the toasts.  And we weren’t going to back down in the face of such a challenge from Miss Ta.  It was on!

11:40am – 12am We lost track around the 12th toast, all of which were “100%.”  The wedding reception hadn’t formally started yet and so far, no one other table has raised a toast.  At some point, I turned toward the camera and said “This whole affair will be a trilogy for us.  First, a spectacle.  Second, a debacle.  Third and finally, shame, our shame.”  Even if our students were becoming the life of the party, it still felt odd, almost inappropriate, to participate as their “teachers.”

The Chief Accountant and the department’s mighty drinker led us on toast after toast after toast.   All 8 members of the bride’s family visited us with a broad smile, a hearty handshake, and another “100%.”  We did have food throughout it all, but one would think that Saigon Green was aperitif, appetizer, main course(s), and dessert. 

The whole reception climaxed with group karaoke, which in fact was a concession to them all encouraging Jet Set Zero to sing solo.  They wanted an English song, so we called out “I Will Survive” – an inside joke reference to previous Karaoke nights together.  It wasn’t until later that we realized how inappropriate that would have been to sing at a wedding…at any rate, we didn’t sing “I Will Survive” nor did we even sing a song in English.  Rob, Brian, and I stood at the back of the group on stage clapping in some parody of rhythm, watching the hall slowly empty of guests.  I think I saw 1 person clapping when I focused on the crowd to get them clapping with us, but the rest either wouldn’t make eye contact or were getting up from their seats.  Our one consolation was that the groom was almost doubled over laughing – a genuine laugh of having good times.  So we made the wedding couple and their families enjoy what was otherwise a mild early afternoon.  It all sounds a bit alcoholic and debaucherous, but again, we didn’t initiate any of it.  When in Rome…
Also, I once heard another table give a cheers…but only once.

The bride and groom were beautiful together, standing showered in confetti and then little bubbles that poured from the ceiling.  It was quite an adventurous wedding party, which is what we’re told they should be.  The focus was on everyone having a fun time in collective celebration, and the bank staff definitely acted like members of the family.

Matt and I teach a corporate class at a small investment bank three days a week. Until recently, this class was my crown jewel– my favorite class to teach. The students were quick and their English was very good. They all seemed very interested in my lessons, which had veered from a mundane set of handouts on “Friendship” and “Free Time”, to discussions about rhetoric and salesmanship. Everything was going well. Until they invited us to a wedding.

I had misgivings. First of all, they didn’t invite us, they invited Matt. We had heard that we needed to experience a Vietnamese wedding, and so when the opportunity arose, we jumped at it. I’m told that a followup email invited me, along with the rest of the group. As a rule, we don’t tend to do well in public as a group.

Travel involved not only spending a weekend with my adult students, almost all of which are older than I am, but also a 7-hour-each-way trip in a small van, meant for no more than 10 people, let alone 20+. My grip on authority in any classroom is tenuous at best, and letting my students know that I’m human is probably the surest way to disolve it altogether. We had no idea how right that would be.

Me at a Vietnamese Wedding