At New Paltz, I have grown used to the way that the semester seems to slither into itself, like someone trying to put on his or her sticky, wrinkled jeans after a night of heavy drinking. In my experience, I have found that professors are always easiest on students in the beginning weeks of school; I can only guess that they too feel intoxicated by the thick clouds of cigarette smoke that hover permanently over the benches in front of the academic buildings and the warm embraces of friends who have been apart for far too long. While I tend to think of the month of August as akin to a Sunday night, a bittersweet culmination and last ditch celebration of previous languid months spent lounging poolside, I acknowledge that early September for US college students is much more an extension of Summer than it is a taste for the academic rigors that lay ahead.In talking to my sister, Jo, who has just started her freshman year at SUNY Binghamton, my beliefs have been reconfirmed—the beginning of classes is a time for confusion, for messing up and most importantly, for testing the waters.

In Vietnam, it seems, as I have found true of most cultural habits here, that the opposite is the case. In all aspects of Vietnamese life, there is little allowance given for hesitation of any kind; in fact, if one is riding a motorbike, even a small degree of self doubt can lead to being surrounded by a curious crowd of spectators drawn like tourists to the banks of the subsequently flowing rivers of blood. If a task is to be completed, it must be tackled head on and the ultimate goal must not be obscured by mortal feelings of fear, pain (emotional or as I can attest, due to a numb rear end from riding for long periods of time on the back of a motorbike, physical) or squeamishness. In our classes, this means that we are thrown right into the midst of Vietnamese culture, history, politics, and language without having the opportunity to assert the assumed superiority of the American way of doing things. So far, it has been really refreshing to try on another culture in lieu of the one I am most familiar with, but this process does not come without its own complications and struggles.

On one hand, there are many aspects of the Vietnamese culture that I am completely enamored with. As I expressed in my last blog post, the people here are some of the kindest and most generous people I have ever met. As a self admitted shy person who often dons the guise of confidence, I have in just one short week been inspired to truly embody the respect I have for both myself and for others. Every day, my new friends here remind me of how much fun it can be to get to know people and I am starting to accept the idea that I might be a person that other people would want to get to know (I can see how funny it might sound that I had to come half way around the world to figure this out, but these kinds of self revelations are just another unexpected benefit of the study abroad experience!). Most of the socializing that is done here is based on emotional connections, which is a big departure from the type of hanging out that I am used to at school where I might go to party and not share a meaningful word with anyone. Yesterday, September 2^nd, was Independence Day and I was invited to spend the morning cooking an extravagant and delicious meal with friends. While I took a back seat when it came to preparing the food (note: never volunteer to help cook when your friends could be professional chefs! Or, do as I did and offer to make cookies…), I had a great time talking, laughing, and all around being silly.

Girls Cooking

Map, the fearless warrior, protecting herself from exploding oil!

Cookie duty

Meal Time!

Ridding myself of the tendency to prejudge the unfamiliar and uncomfortable has been instrumental in learning to accept the aspects of life here that I find more difficult to cope with. Earlier this week, Map brought me to the little zoo that is part of a small amusement park here in the city. In all of my life, I have never seen more miserable looking animals, cooped up in filthy cages where they pace back and forth waiting for any kind of stimulation or perhaps, as I deem the most humane option, for their deaths. Coupled with the stories I have heard from friends who have had their dogs stolen off of the street to be sold as dinner in local restaurants, it is really difficult for me to deal with this deplorable treatment of animals. However, while I would be quick to condemn these terrible practices at home, I know that while I am here, I have to bite my tongue. Saving the animals of Danang is not my battle to fight, or at least not yet, while I am still learning the nuances of a culture where historically, people have starved to death due to lack of access to sustenance. In fact, in suspending many of my normally strong convictions, I have enjoyed some of the best food I have eaten on this trip, like fried squid or this BIG fish( see picture below) that was quickly wolfed down by group effort. I will NOT, however, be developing a taste for chicken feet or fish eyes(ew, Map!)!

Sad monkeys...

in sad cages.

Doesn't look it, but this fish was SO good!

While we started our volunteer work earlier this week, visiting both the Loving House and the Agent Orange Group Home, I prefer to hold off on describing these activities until I become more familiar with their inner workings and my feelings regarding the work that will be done there. Tomorrow, we go to the Marble Mountains, a day trip that I am extremely excited for. Continue to send me your thoughts by comments and emails; I can't express enough how much all of the support I have been receiving from family and friends has shaped my desire to plunge headfirst and wholeheartedly into this unique experience!