What’s next?
4.29.2009 Update
Just thought I would let you know…I have an appointment this Saturday with an agent to look at some houses. I’m contracted and paid up until June, so that gives me a bit of time to hunt. I’ll keep you posted!
4.18.2009 Update
The weather forecast said there would be a thunderstorm on Tuesday. It just didn’t say that it would blow in at 4am! And that it did. The thunder was super loud and the lighting bordered on an electric storm. I don’t sleep well during storms anyway, the pounding of the rain didn’t help lull me to sleep!
I find it very strange that my first instinct was to pop out of bed and check for roof leaks. After the whole water heater incident, I clearly don’t have the greatest confidence that my apartment building is built soundly or with terrifically skilled workers.
Sure enough, with just a 45 minute storm, though it was a heavy downpour, several water spots appeared all over the house. I’m glad I thought to take photos, it came in handy explaining it to the apartment management.
I met the “technicians” on Wednesday morning. As it turns out, one was the plumber, which made me think that the crew didn’t understand that this wasn’t a pipe leak, but parts of the building that weren’t sealed properly. I walked through the house, showing them the photos and the location of each leak.
I also showed them that the window that they sealed up in the living room, wasn’t properly sealed on the outside of the building. I don’t know what the hell these people were thinking! I serve enough as a teacher in my work in hospitality, I just don’t have it in me to teach someone why the construction of a building is not strong enough! No one understood why I was knocking on the bedroom window seal, trying to explain that the area underneath the window is hollow. They couldn’t hear the difference in sound when I knocked on different parts of the walls!
Of course, the security dude who I’ve locked out by changing the locks, took his golden opportunity to explore my apartment, opening the bathroom and bedroom doors to take his peak everywhere. I should have yelled at him, but I’m somewhat fascinated by how curious he is about the apartment. He looked around and then went back downstairs.
I just couldn’t get over how clueless these folks were. They asked several times how the water leak started. Through the interpreter, I kept telling them the water came from the outside, from the storm. All the leaks are from the storm. Yet they still asked in a couple of locations if the water came from the inside. Umm…yeah. I threw water against the wall, and particularly near power outlets because I think it’s hilarious!
So, two scrawny little teenagers showed up this morning to get up on the roof and put down some more material over the bathroom. That part was easy. In the living room, another guy stood on a bucket on a chair and chipped away at the moldy part of my wall. You can see in the pictures that one he exposed the brick, there was even one big hole that was never sealed up at all! Yikes!
What ticked me off is that everyone planned to meet here Saturday and get everything done. But I was told that they would come back Thursday to paint and fix the outside of the building. I’m not happy about this. I hate having to arrange my schedule to be home. But they were not prepared to fix anything but the big hole in my living room wall. And I can’t do a damn thing about it!
I sent an e-mail to the management asking them why they weren’t prepared. It makes me feel better, but it is in vain.
Ms. Ngoc, our HR executive and I discussed this and the other things which have popped up since I moved in. She strongly encourages me to find a new place to live. Since Ericsson employees occupy the rest of the building, I think they would be happy to have one more unit in the same building. This would sure make it easy to break the contract. While there is a part of me which does desire a better living situation, another part is not willing to go through a search and a move. Yuck. what a pain in the ass!
What would you do if you were me?
On the Bright Side,
Shanna
A window in my bedroom. A line formed and then the water just started dripping. You can see the wall opening was too big for the window and improperly sealed.
Watch Your Step
Photo: The steps in my building. Hard marble steps may look nice, but they don’t feel so good when you fall flat on your ass!
I returned home late last night. I had my suitcase with me. It was heavy. I was tired. I was swinging the suitcase up a few stairs and then stepping up behind the suitcase. I got tot he second floor landing. I swung the suitcase, began to move upward, but the suitcase fell back ward and took me with in. In the blink of an eye I had fallen backward and landed (fortunately) on my right butt cheek.
After I recovered from the shock of falling, I started to get up and collect myself. Except that when I did, my right foot screamed at me. It was really sore and immediately swelled up a bit. I was on the second floor and I live on the 5th. OMG.
I started crying because the pain was quite bad and then I started cursing because I was angry that I had fallen. What a klutz!
I’m sure I spent more than 10 minutes in the echo-chamber stairwell. What I realized was that while I knew my neighbors were home, no one bothered to open their doors and come see what all the commotion was about.
I wiped my tears, took a deep breath and got me and my stupid suitcase up three more stories. Once inside, I cursed my non-helpful neighbors as I iced my ankle and shed a few more tears.
I went to sleep with my foot propped up on two pillows and managed to sleep that way all night. Good.
I also stayed home and worked from my sofa today, doing my best to not use my foot. It’s not too puffy, but it is super, super sore. I feel like I bruised it, perhaps the suitcase hit the top of it or something. It was a weird fall. I also have a nice bruise coming out on my butt cheek.
As much as it sucks to have this injured foot, I’m super grateful I didn’t crack my head open. No drama intended, but I could have bled to dead in the hallway, since my stupid neighbors couldn’t be bothered to even open their doors to see why someone was cursing like a sailor in the hallway!
Anywhoo, I should probably get this checked out, but the athlete in me says, “Suck it up and walk it off. It’s not broken.”
On the Bright Side,
Shanna
4.19.2009 Update
They say that sometimes a severe sprain is worse than a clean break. Well, I’m beginning to agree with this. I still have the doctors’ words echoing in my head, “Why did you wait 10 days to see me?” Two tendons on both sides of my ankle were strained, and I have a contusion on the top of my foot. The internal bleeding was bad enough that my toes are green and purple. Yuck. I have a monster foot!
I would love to follow doctor’s orders and use the cane he gave me, but it seems so silly after not using one. I didn’t mind taping up my ankle, but after one shower, it complete became useless. I was told I could get it wet, but it just didn’t hold. The doctor wanted to give me a soft cast, but they just aren’t available in Vietnam.
I was supposed to go to a special pharmacy and buy my own cane this weekend, but I really don’t want to spend money on something I know I won’t use. I’m going to keep it elevated, keep icing it and trying to stay off of it. I know myself pretty well, and while this is the most serious injury I’ve ever had, it’s not so serious that I need casts and canes and regular physical therapy.
I’m a tough chick and while this is not fun, I can handle it.
4.26.2009 Update
Nearly three weeks after my fall, I still have a slight bit of swelling in my ankle which is worse at the end of a work day or like yesterday’s music festival where I stood most of the day. But I am committed to having this thing heal, because not only is it a big deal to not have your feet in order, but I don’t want to have continued issues with this ankle. I’m just surprised it’s taking so long! As I mentioned, this is the worst injury I’ve ever had, so the concept that this will likely take another three weeks to heal up is just mind-boggling! I want my right foot back!
Get a life!
What gang sign is that? I am such the loser that I meant to put an L on my forehead and ended up with this weirdo version. I’m so NOT cool!
Berlin was great on many levels. I got to spend a romantic weekend with a very cute boy. I enjoyed sightseeing in a remarkable city in the world, one more pin for my map. I’m truly fortunate to “have to” go to Berlin once a year. I like traveling for work! The exhibition was amazing and provided an opportunity to learn a lot about the travel industry, as well as provided a view of the bigger picture.
But on the plane back to Hanoi, I was working on my 3-month report for the owners, and as my list of things I’ve accomplished at work grew longer, I recognized that my list of personal achievements would pale in comparison if I had to write those down.
And that’s not me. I’m the gal who gives 110% in everything I do. Of course I want to be the best I can be at work, but at what expense? Until I made time to write updates for the entire month of March, how often did I update my blog here? How many photos have I taken in and around Hanoi? And what have those photos mostly been of -my commute to work. Yes I’ve met people, but I haven’t made much of an effort at making new friends. Correspondence with my Japanese students or friends? It’s been months. Keeping up with my On The Bright Side newsletter? Writing to my friends? Writing in my journal? Exploring my new surroundings? Exercising and taking care of myself? No no no no and no. That doesn’t make me feel too good.
I had a rough week back at work this past week. I was fighting jet lag like crazy and I got side-tracked with interviews for Press Club staff (20 hours!) instead of focusing on the bigger picture and following up after my trade event. So by the time the weekend came and my half day of work on Saturday turned 4:00 pm. I simply stopped.
I had the Tang man pick me up and take me to a furniture shop called Dome. I looked at sofas and dining tables and scheduled an appointment with a designer who will come to my home, measure my windows and space and suggest designs and colors and pieces to buy. I’m excited. I can’t wait to have a proper living space with fun, lively and bright colors. I may end up paying more than I should, but I simply want a lovely home to return to at the end of the day.
I did more research on the motorbike and asked our HR Madam, Ms. Ngoc to help me by the Honda AirBlade I’ve set my heart on. I finally sent my parents my wish list – there are some things they can send which would add convenience or luxury to my life. And I got my HSBC banking account set-up online so I can transfer money to my US account.
I got a little bit more organized at home and actually wrote a “to do” list for my maid. I do, at least, have a maid who comes once a week. I still feel weird about having a maid just for me, but she helps me tremendously. It was awesome to come home from Berlin to a perfectly in-tact home.
So – I apologize once again for not updating you more often. Enough is enough. Sharing these life adventures with you gives me tremendous joy. The thing is – I’ve got to get out of the office and live a little so I have something interesting to share! I have got to get a life…
On the Bright Side,
Shanna
Motorbike Wars
Morning Commute – This is what my commute looks like in the morning. And this is actually a good day. This is not congested at all.
The day I get my own motorbike is growing near. I need the freedom to come and go as I please and I am growing quite tired of relying on motorbike and taxi drivers.
I’m particularly surprised with how little English the cab drivers speak, and by how often I am instructing them which turns to make and where to go. Because of their lack of English, when you show them and address and try to confirm if they know it or not, all you get is an “OK OK OK”. And numerous times, the guy who says “OK” and seems to understand, makes a wrong turn or takes the long way around or has to pull over to consult a map – never mind that I am trying to tell him that I know where we are going! But I could go on for hours about taxis in Hanoi. Let’s stay on the topic of motorbikes…
I’ve talked about the Tang man before. He’s my driver in the morning. I send a text message at night for the time to pick me up in the morning like
3.20.09 8:00am ok?
And he replies with a simple “ok”. Rudimentary, but it works. I don’t speak Vietnamese, he doesn’t speak English. It’s a classic case of k.i.s.s.
But recently I found a motorbike driver who stays around my work area. Mr. Ha speaks a little English, is a safe driver and can be at my work in five minutes. So I developed a good system. The Tang man takes me to work. Mr. Ha takes me home. Win-Win-Win.
Just before Berlin, Mr. Ha went out to the countryside to visit family. He called to tell me he wouldn’t be available. I told him I’d call him after Berlin. Cool.
When I came back from Berlin, the Tang man picked me up the next morning. I had the receptionist explain that I forgot to tell him I went out of town and that I apologize for not contacting him before my trip. He said it was no problem, but asked why I never call him to pick me up at work. I had to remind him that he told me he’s busy at night taking my friends Anna or MJ to their gig at night. He said to call him anyway and that if he’s busy, so be it, but if he’s free, he’d like to take me home. Fair enough.
So, feeling a bit of jet lag in the first days back, I asked him to be at the office at 6pm. And I did this for the past three nights because, frankly, I’m exhausted. I can barely keep my eyes open at work and just need to ease back into the Vietnamese clock. And I always thought I did pretty good with jet lag. Whatever – anyway…
Well yesterday, I get a call during the day from Mr. Ha. I missed the call and figured he was telling me that he was back from the countryside or on his way there and simply wanted to check in with me. He’s a good salesman in that way.
After I got home and got cozy on the couch with my laptop, about 8:30pm. I saw that Mr. Ha was calling again. I didn’t want to deal, frankly. An hour later, I was about to hit the sack and Mr. Ha called again. Surely that would be the last time. He can’t be that desperate for my business, nor that curious about my whereabouts. Could he?
I drifted off into dreamland only to to be jolted awake, thinking my alarm was going off. 10:30pm. I rolled over, I just want to get some sleep, people!!!
The last call came at 11:50pm. Then I was angry. And I didn’t pick up the phone because I didn’t want to yell profanity at the man. But I was extremely bothered by this. Was he drunk? Why would a motorbike driver ever need to call me at 11:50pm. EVER???
The next day, I had one of my staff members, Mr. Nam help me. I told him the situation. He thought it also strange and unacceptable. So he called Mr. Ha for me. Mr. Ha apologized profusely but said that he was very concerned because he had asked around and heard from others that I had found a new motorbike driver. He wanted to talk with me about this because he asked and who-knows-who told him they’d seen me with another driver. Mr. Nam explained that if I needed his services, I would call him, but asked Mr. Ha not to call me again.
OH. MY. GOD.
Like I need this. Now I’m supposed to feel like I’m cheating every time I hop on the back of someone else’s motorbike? He asked other people about my motorbike habits? WTF???
Mr. Ha needs to chill out and realize that the Tang man, who I met when I traveled here last year, is my main biker dude. And Mr. Ha needs to figure out that the moment he called me more than once in a day, and at 11:50 at night – he lost my business for good. What a ding dong.
Not only am I tired of relying on others to get around town, but I do not enjoy being made a pawn in some weirdo motorbike driver war. I’ve got my heart set on a Honda Airblade, red, slick and automatic, and at this point I don’t think I can buy it quick enough.
On the Bright Side,
Shanna
Never Ever
How tempting is this button? How many e-mails do you have in your in-box. I’m still trying to catch up and organize my files, so I still have more than 1500. Surely, there are some I can delete?
In the midst of a skype chat, I received this stream from my IT Manager today:
shanna
don’t delete emails
never
ever
He had asked my source for information and I recollected but said that I had deleted the e-mail, since the project was completed. That was the response. Never ever.
All I can say is – WHY?
More than ten years ago (wow) I worked for the American Film Institute. While I hated working for a dictator who never washed her hands in the bathroom, I truly loved most all my other colleagues. I have made some of the most solid friendships of my life via the AFI. What was great in the day, was our hallway chats. You’d walk down the hall to the restroom or to someone’s office to check-in and say hello and you would bump into someone and begin a conversation. It may have lasted just 10 minutes, but usually some good idea was sparked and a meeting would follow and something new would be implemented. Lots and lots of projects and programs we born from those hallway chats. Sometimes we even call each other up and ask to meet in the hall; our springboard for creativity. The only thing I miss about e-mails at the AFI was that for a time, we had an “unsend” button. Now THAT is a feature I’d love to have! Especially when I forget to attach the attachment!
At the City Club, I hosted numerous committee meetings. Who dreads these? Not me. You learn a lot about people from group communication. When a committee pulls itself together and starts cooperating, it’s magic. So many great things can come of it. Imagine trying to host a committee meeting via group chat. Yikes. A nightmare! My former GM, Larry also had his management team meet twice a week. We met first thing Monday morning to discuss our goals and at the end of the day on Friday to review financials and give status reports on our projects. We also all ate lunch together as a group, our dysfunctional little family as we liked to say. This helped us solidify our realtions. We groaned sometimes that we were always in meetings. But we never had an excuse that we didn’t know something or weren’t aware. A simple, “I mentioned it in the meeting” would suffice.
Having stepped away from the hard-core business world for a short time, I must say that I am a little disappointed with the lack of talking people do. Others around me may say that it’s an American thing, but I think this is very much a human thing. We are communicative beings. We have been blessed with the skill of language. And while we have had amazing technological developments (who doesn’t love their Mac? ;p ) I’m afraid we are trading one skill set for the other.
To give you another example, our chef came by my office to have a chat. We talked, we discussed, we agreed. For me, end of story. I’m a smart girl, I have a memory, I understood every word he said. But ONE DAY LATER, I received and e-mail which cc’d our GM telling me the same thing. It’s as though there is a need to document every bloody word which leaves our mouths. Why do I need an e-mail to confirm that a conversation happened? And why do I need to keep that e-mail? I simply cannot get my head around this.
Mind you, e-mail and skype is terrific for keeping up with friends and colleagues who are overseas or in another office. Skype has allowed my colleagues and I to transfer large files too big for e-mail and my parents and I to chat for free over the computer. Phone calls are expensive, and computer technology is a blessing in this regard. But C’MON! If you sit across from someone or within walking distance of desks – do we actually NEED an e-mail? An e-mail will never convey your exact tone of voice, your facial expressions, or even your intentions. These are all things which we can only gather in eye contact, body language and intonation. How many of you have read an e-mail and “heard” the tone of the sender. Strongly or even well-written e-mails can come across possibly as angry or upset when the intention is really just to be thorough or clear. As much as body language can be picked up in person-to-person discussions, an e-mail recipient has a near, default-mode of reading between the lines. Let’s not even begin discussion on the decline of our language skills in e-mails. Just to throw it out there – when’s the last time you hand-wrote something longer than one page?
I am very perplexed by this everything by e-mail trend. Is it a lack of trust? A need for evidence? An innocent back-up for a bad memory? An inability to use a pen and paper to take a note? Are we really operating so much in a CYA mode that we cut conversations short and say, “Can you send me an e-mail on that?” ??? Do people really see e-mail as an effective means of communication? Does anyone realize it actually takes a person a greater chunk of time to write all that nonsense out versus walking over to a desk and telling someone?
Am I alone in this thought or are some of you out there just as tired of all these e-mails and crave face-to-face conversations? Of course I realize that you will most likely e-mail me your thoughts….
On the Bright Side,
Shanna
Privacy Please
We Westerners sure love our space. And we adore privacy. We put a fence up around our homes and stick signs up to say KEEP OUT. At hotels, we have the option of letting everyone know that we do not want to be disturbed. Even on SKYPE, you can select a status of “do not disturb” which, frankly I wonder why someone wouldn’t just log off, but that’s a story for another day.
We value our personal space and privacy. As much experience as I’ve had and as much traveling as I’ve done, I still value it, too. But this is not the case in Vietnam.
As soon as I moved into my apartment, I noticed that while I was away at work, people, someone, who knows who, had been in my apartment while I was at work. I would return to opened curtains, new paintings hung on the wall, or a note left on my coffee table telling me that the internet was working. At first, I tried not to get upset, because I realized that they were simply trying to check on things and spruce the place up.
After the dust settled, though, I told the manager that no one needed to enter the apartment any longer, that I didn’t want strange people going inside. And me being me, I’d booby trap the place before I left in the morning so I would know exactly if someone had entered and where in the apartment they had been.
One day as I left for work, I was told that a maid would start coming to clean my house and that she would start that day. I thanked our receptionist but politely declined the service. I didn’t tell them I would use only someone I know and trust. When I came home that night, I knew someone had been in my house, but not a maid. I called the manager and expressed my displeasure. He assured me it wouldn’t happen again.
But it did happen again, not long after that and I had to have a face-to-face meeting with him to let him know exactly why it was unacceptable for someone I don’t know to go into my apartment when I am not there and when there is no appointment. He agreed that only by appointment or if I was home would his security or maintenance staff enter. I told him that if an unwelcome entry happened again, I would change the locks.
So everyday for a few weeks, I maintained my simple booby trap and would come home quite pleased that no one had been inside. That was until the Friday before I left for Berlin. The little piece of black paper was not in the door jam. I looked up and down and could not see it. My heart started to race as I put my key in my door and opened it. I could see the little piece of paper in the middle of the hallway. Someone had been inside.
I looked around everywhere, checked all my belongings, checked everything and then sat down on the couch and tried not to get angry. I wasn’t sure why someone had been inside, maybe something happened and there was a legitimate reason. But it felt SO VERY WRONG. I felt invaded, taken advantage of, all sorts of other horrible emotions. I mean – who came in? What did they do? What did they look through? Did they sit on my couch, watch a little TV? Before I got too worked up, I called Mr. Thien, the manager and asked him who had entered my apartment and why.
He responded that the security guard had entered the apartment because he needed to water the plants (I have a window box and a palm on my balcony). I explained that I water the plants every weekend and that in addition, the weather had been wet and rainy the entire week, so there was no need to water the plants. “Oh, I see,” was the quiet response. No apologies, no additional excuses. I asked him if the security guard had an appointment. “No.” I asked him if I was home when the security guard entered. “No.” So I reminded him of our agreement and he left me with, “It won’t happen again.”
You bet your sweet ass it won’t!
I had the locks changed. And I can’t even tell you the peace of mind it provides to know that no one can enter my home except me. I can’t wait for the phone call from Mr. Thien where he says, “Shanna, our security guard tried to enter your apartment today, but maybe you changed the lock.” And this will actually happen. And when it does, I’ll let you know!
On the Bright Side,
Shanna
Yup! That’s me!
I am posting this photo and this entry merely as evidence that I am still alive and well in Hanoi. What you see here is me “assuming the position”. As of late, that is in my office, at my desk, slaving away at the computer, either writing articles for newsletters, reading e-mails, reading reports, writing reports, writing e-mails (way too many!), managing my team or coming up with some *brilliant* idea of how to market and sell our six properties! I’m also likely to be setting myself up for a slipped disc in my neck again with my horrible posture, hunched over my laptop – but that’s a story for another day!
I really want you to know much I love you, I miss you, I am thinking about you and wishing I had the time to take a huge breath and break and touch base with each of you personally. I’m in my third week of “OH MY GOD I HAVE SOOOOoooo MUCH TO DO” mode. But I think all of us have been in this situation where a new job, a new adventure, a new chapter in life is nothing short of all-consuming. And so it is for me. I’m lucky if I remember to brush my teeth before I go to sleep (OK. That was totally an exaggeration! I only forgot to brush them on Monday night.).
As you can see I haven’t lost my sense of humor. Nor my enthusiasm for what I am doing. I am so proud to be the Director of Sales & Marketing for Apple Tree and I am thoroughly enjoying living in Hanoi (what I experience of it when I’m not in the room you see in the picture!).
My favorite 15 minutes of the day is my motorbike ride to work. The “Tang Man” (real name: Anh Tanh) picks me up at 8am most mornings. I hop on the back of his bike with my brief case between us and purse clutched over my left shoulder. I watch with wide eyes as mornings in Hanoi unfold. Sights of ladies selling produce, men setting up their barber shops against tree trunks, families of four on a motorbike, random people trying to cross insanely busy streets, buses full of middle-aged tourists, and young “cool” guys without helmets all whiz by in a blur. But the wind in my face and the sights and sounds (even the smells sometimes) are all so exciting. It’s a thrill. I can’t wait to get my own motorbike and learn the city streets.
I hope you can lend me your patience and understanding. I miss my routine of writing, of updating my blog, of chatting with you. Love and miss you oodles and will write again soon.
On the Bright Side,
Shanna
Visit Shanna’s Other Sites
Get Bright Life E-News
Get free education and updates from Bright Life Media. E-news contains exclusive content for subscribers only. Say YES to a Bright Life now!
You must be logged in to post a comment.