Life in the fast lane
No this is not more about my internet connection, its more about swimming.
X is the careers officer at work which means he organises vocational training for people with HIV and AIDS who are in one of the centre's projects. He is also a bit of a match maker. The first time I sat next to him at lunch he asked me how old I was, if I was married and when the word divorced was mentioned his eyes lit up and he looked me up and down carefully then tweaked my bicep and started asking questions about why I looked so unfit. He then asked if I would like to meet his wife's sister and if I liked vietnamese girls, to which I diplomatically replied that, in the circumstances, I thought there was no right answer to that question. If I said yes I would be destined for the vietnamese equivalent of blind date and if I said no he, and the rest of the (predominantly female) team would be insulted.
He nodded with a distant look in his eyes and then showed me the correct way to hold my rice bowl.
The next time we sat together he asked if I liked sport and proceeded to tell me all the things he did. I told him I'd been swimming the previous morning at the pool near the hotel. He said he liked swimming and where was the pool. With the aid of a map and an older colleague, who speaks better English we worked out which pool it was. He immediately said he would meet me there the following morning at 6am for a swim. I accepted the challenge, feeling I was still being tested out for some greater purpose. All afternoon whenever he passed my desk he reminded me of the date.
I arrived at the pool dead on 6am, it was as frantic as on the previous occasion. I waited by the entrance until five past then went in, changed and swam my 1500 metres. I left at 7, still no sign of him. Later at work he explained he had got to the pool, there were very few people and hardly any water in the pool, I was not there so he went home. I don't know what to believe, but I do have mounting evidence that vietnamese cannot read maps or navigate their own city. Just take a taxi and show the driver a map, he will study it with a stern expression, nod sagely say a few Ahhs and then set of with confidence which lasts about half a mile, then he stops and asks for directions.
X is the careers officer at work which means he organises vocational training for people with HIV and AIDS who are in one of the centre's projects. He is also a bit of a match maker. The first time I sat next to him at lunch he asked me how old I was, if I was married and when the word divorced was mentioned his eyes lit up and he looked me up and down carefully then tweaked my bicep and started asking questions about why I looked so unfit. He then asked if I would like to meet his wife's sister and if I liked vietnamese girls, to which I diplomatically replied that, in the circumstances, I thought there was no right answer to that question. If I said yes I would be destined for the vietnamese equivalent of blind date and if I said no he, and the rest of the (predominantly female) team would be insulted.
He nodded with a distant look in his eyes and then showed me the correct way to hold my rice bowl.
The next time we sat together he asked if I liked sport and proceeded to tell me all the things he did. I told him I'd been swimming the previous morning at the pool near the hotel. He said he liked swimming and where was the pool. With the aid of a map and an older colleague, who speaks better English we worked out which pool it was. He immediately said he would meet me there the following morning at 6am for a swim. I accepted the challenge, feeling I was still being tested out for some greater purpose. All afternoon whenever he passed my desk he reminded me of the date.
I arrived at the pool dead on 6am, it was as frantic as on the previous occasion. I waited by the entrance until five past then went in, changed and swam my 1500 metres. I left at 7, still no sign of him. Later at work he explained he had got to the pool, there were very few people and hardly any water in the pool, I was not there so he went home. I don't know what to believe, but I do have mounting evidence that vietnamese cannot read maps or navigate their own city. Just take a taxi and show the driver a map, he will study it with a stern expression, nod sagely say a few Ahhs and then set of with confidence which lasts about half a mile, then he stops and asks for directions.
Anyway we have made a date for next week and he is coming to my hotel to pick me up.
posted by Marvin.. at Friday, June 23, 2006
1 Comments:
Now let's see if I can post a comment as a non signed up blogger?
Post a Comment
<< Home