Helmets 4 kids.

     The other day I saw a father put on a protective lower face mask on his toddler son after second handing a cigarette and the son crawled to the neck of the bike and they both proceeded into the darkness. The father had a cheap helmet on because it's the law to wear one. The son had nothing but a fabric face mask. I suppose if you follow the principle of the if you throw a helmet down it will crack but a piece of cloth won't- thus the latter offers more protection, then you see nothing wrong with this image.
There are often billboards and art that suggests to motorists to put helmets on their children and I do see from time to time toddlers and little kids wearing helmets. However, the majority of the time children are unprotected from the harsh concrete that their skulls might meet upon some small error- such as a drunk driver or a beat up cart carrying heaps of trash that share the same narrow filthy roads.

***Mothers and fathers, please spend a little money to put some form of protection other than cloth on your child's heads. Fathers- if you have a big family (of four) then please insist that your fat ass of a wife learn how to ride a bike so you don't have to carry four people on a bike designed for two. Better yet- leave the kids at home. Bring the food to the kids. Better yet just walk. It will surely do that stomach fat real good.

That cap sure will protect you, son. 

     Will the laws ever change? I'm sure one day they will. As for now- most people don't wear helmets for protection- they wear it because they don't want to be slapped with a fine. If it was optional, I bet over 75% of the population would omit the extra "hassle" of ruining their hair. I'm quite insistent on a good quality helmet, but unfortunately since my bike does not have a trunk, having a good helmet would almost result in thief when I park at the local supermarket. But this isn't about me. It's about putting helmets on kids. Then again, helmets on kids today, what's next? helmets on dogs? hahahahha. Lol at the tools that spend thousands of dollars on their bikes but spent two bucks on a shit helmet made out of plastic. Vietnam..

And guys don't forget to check out my YouTube Channel and subscribe for daily updates! NEW! NEW!

Expensive.

Imported strawberries are 360,000 for 450 grams. This is about 17 US dollars. OMFG. In California during season these boxes are a dollar a piece. The strawberries grown locally here (in Da Lat) are not edible unless you candy it or create jam out of it. 

New rock!

    This whole writing thing stemmed from the far far depths of my opaque childhood. Anywhere where light couldn't penetrate probably would yield grimmer results- but in my case... so far.... maybe not.
Take a look at the shit I wrote when I was in third grade. Boy, do people change..

QuicKlips. That's wazzzzup.

   Many of you have voiced your displeasure about the lack of video updates. My response is that each video takes at least 15 hours to complete and time isn't always necessary on my hands- hence some sloppiness in some videos that I just decided to pass through hoping no one would notice. If you guys would donate I would feel more encouraged to make grander videos because I have to eat too ya know. These videos costs time and money and time equals money and money equals money too. Okay, I don't want to make this another begging entry so let's stop here. Since getting a smarter phone that captures HD videos (though not as impressive as my Canon HV30) I've decided to share with you things I manage to record. I hope you enjoy and please have a bucket in hand because you will get motion sickness I promise. Thanks - your friend Kyle.

PS: Watch in HD if you can and be sure to subscribe for more.

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLF44DA70B16D99EBB

Light bulbs.

    I've come to several realizations.

1) The majority of women here my age look so much older than me. Younger women generally lack worldly experience and tend to sway towards childish mannerism. How can I possible date a girl who looks 10 years older than me and how can I be with someone who has the mindset of a 14 year old?
Looks like I'll be single for a while in this country.

2) Giving a xe om driver an extra 50 cents could be considered charity work now that I think about it. I've always hated people ripping me off, but this might only apply to big restaurants or seedy individuals. Motorbike drivers whose next dong is never certain deserve to rip me off. A difference of 10,000 or even 20,000 isn't a big deal. These people are poor. If I can help them by giving them an extra 50 cents then that's worth it. I have to completely flip my mindset. I'm not the victim if I pay more than a local. I'm helping my fellow countrymen. By the way- a majority of xe om drivers are former South Vietnamese soldiers who found it rather impossible to find anything economically suitable after the war.

3) This sojourn will eventually end. I'm in a state of post-vacation depression where a person feels bored and down about his life after an enjoyable vacation away from work. The weather has won. I give up. The summer heat burns my skin and the monsoonal rains drenches my underwear.  I like it here, but my future is America. I can't wait to go back to school. Now I just have to figure out what I want to go to graduate school for. I'm not sure what I'm passionate about that might be able to give me the lifestyle I want. I don't want to be rich. I don't want to work too hard but I want to able to drive a car and wipe my ass with quality toilet paper.

4) I'm okay with hairy vaginas. A hairy one is better than none at all. You all know I like birds- why not nests?

5) If someone doesn't speak and understand English fluently they will never really understand me. No matter how good my Vietnamese is or how good their English is- without growing up in America the Vietnamese girls here won't ever get me. I'm interested in a girl who can watch Curb Your Enthusiasm, The Office, 30 Rock, or Community and laugh and appreciate higher comedy with me. It would be a challenge to be with serious with someone who fancies Tom and Jerry, Mr. Bean, and The Three Stooges all the time- not like I don't find these funny or entertaining, but you catch my drift. I'm looking for mental stimulation and someone who can handle pop culture and can handle getting other parts of their bodies popped. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.

6) I seriously need to work out. My upper body is dangerously weak. I'm barely plodding by. I need to walk with an agile vigor. Yup.

7) Entries like these are lame.

The right of patients.

    I don't know how to else to describe a typical hospital here in Vietnam except that it felt like a filthy concentration camp. It was bad. It seriously was. I visited one for the first time yesterday to visit my grandfather from Bien Hoa who was getting a procedure done to his bladder. Paint peels and cotton swabs with blood on the ground were the first few things I've noticed upon walking into the waiting room. Hospital entrances are usually so crowded with vendors and xe om drivers that missing them would be impossible. Think market. Don't think hospital.

     I made my way up two flights of stairs passing families sprawled out on bamboo mats napping away and lifeless souls in old hospital pajamas that reminded me of the Holocaust wandered about like zombies in the humidity. Sometimes a breeze would blow by and rescue me from the heat exhaustion as I waited about among the hundreds and hundreds of other patrons. This hospital like all other hospitals here was crowded. So over capacity that patients sometimes have to share beds with strangers. I never noticed any hospital room with anything less than six patients all lying about on beds together. Cheap looking bottles recycled as IV drips and family members around the patient's bedside surrounded by other complete strangers. Nurses don't have the responsibility of care givers here. There's no such thing as a kinky nurse fetish here when the atmosphere emphasized death instead of sex. There was nothing sexy here. Nurses were angry and bitter. It's a stressful environment, but all the nurses I've encountered were impatient and rude. Family members are the ones who have to bath, feed, and nurture the patients after their surgery. An old wife emptied her husband's urine pouch into a toilet and then swiftly began to brush his mouth with her fingers. No wonder half of his teeth were missing- how can you ever clean your teeth with a finger and urine...

    When I came in my grandfather looked like a sunken corpse but he was still very alert. They sent him into a waiting room and despite donating to the nurses and doctors for a private room or at least something better than a communal room, our family's efforts fell short. The whole system here is seriously dangerous and unprofessional. Patients are forced to walk to the doctor's offices to get checked up- sometimes clear across the compound. Basic machines like heart scanners and MRIs are few and far in between so my grandfather had to go to a different hospital to get some other procedures done a few districts away. Hospitals here specializes in specific body parts, such as the eyes and the intestines.
       Eventually after so many hours of waiting around I went home and felt completely disgusted with the sights and sounds that I heard on that day. I was emotionally and physically drained. I sobbed a little and choked several times.  Doctors barely make anything here unless they have their own private practice. There's a lack of motivation here. It was really sad. I squirming at the idea of having to be in that room full of patients coughing away - spreading their sickness without concern for others. I'm appreciating America more than ever now. I'm going to be so much more careful because I definitely don't want to end up in a hospital here. Though... that hospital did have free wifi..

First morning.

 

   With barely a few hours rest I woke up and devoured two packs of instant oat meal and tried.my best to prep my clothes by organizing them better. I quickly gave that up and decided to go eat something better and more filling. A couple bowls of pho sounded good but my bike didn't start right away. It took about 30 minutes for it to run without shutting off. By then I was covered in sweat and didn't care about food. I had to get the bike checked on and putting that off would too risky. I didn't totally forget how to ride the bike as I had original feared. My balance, however was slightly off and I almost lost control a few times. I got gas and prayed that the bike wouldn't shut off while I was driving. It didn't and I'm patiently waiting for it get completely revamped. I can't help but wonder just how much they are ripping my Viet kieu ass off. The smell of oil and dirt from the wear and tear of having your living room serve as a mechanic garage is getting to me. There's very little to eat on this street. It's a nasty dust hell and a sixth person just asked me if I wanted to buy lottery tickets. The shop owner is feeding her grand kids what appears to look like wet dog food as they run around kicking a used soap bottle around. The younger one commented on how big my phone is and I smiled back at his decaying teeth. The shop owners husband is sitting behind me getting ready to eat his lunch, which also resembles something an animal would eat. The average Vietnamese are barely scraping by and food quality and enjoyment is not a priority. I couldn't survive on such a meager rice diet where soups are poured on top of the rice so it washes down easier. Tom and Jerry are playing in the background amonst other static. Just a few days ago I was enjoying HD on a flat screen and now I'm enjoying SD on a flat screen. Maybe this will give you a better idea of priorities here. I'm sitting in a little one story shack by the way. The mechanics ... Aka random youth off the street's... Are tearing my bike apart and replacing everything essential. I have no choice but to trust them. They probably.know what they are doing amongst the hundreds of bolts and in their trays. Ill be sure to tip them. They are all either older than me or at the same age but our lives couldn't be any different. These older bikes should be easy enough even though it looks complicated as bell... Then again I'm no street mechanic in Vietnam. This is how I'm different than the locals- I don't look down the blue collared locals. I just sit and resent the state of things how some people are one way and others are others. The economic gaps suck. A used oil buyer- clothes soaked and tattered, just came in and the shop owner and him bickered about how those few gallons would cost. Talk about economic gaps...
The bikes done. 24 bucks to replace the pistons and completely overhaul the gas tank with an oil change to boot.

Marine layer.

      The marine layer that seeps inland every morning and burns off into a sharp heat with forgiving breezes whenever it feels like as the morning wears away inspires me profoundly. I like mist and I like fog. Saigon’s moisture and smog doesn’t count at all. The morning air in SoCal is chilly and perhaps borderline cold for someone from the tropics, but it’s also crisp and refreshing. It makes you up. In Saigon, the horns and the treacherous angry sun wakes you up in a puddle of your own drool and sweat. This has benefits because you instantly want to shower away while colder weather brings out the lazy smelly bums in all of us that feel uncompelled to shower just because there wasn’t any perspiration. I woke up hungry and ready to eat anything on my plate while I was much more selective in Saigon. By the time I was up the sun deterred most hot dishes from my breakfast table. The remaining Vietnamese breakfast selection is often times rather limited. Bread, rice, cold noodles… the lack of protein in the morning might explain why a lot of the locals are often cranky. We all know that breakfast is the most important breakfast of the day, but a lot of people tend to skip out on it. This is a huge mistake. Low blood sugar, low libido, and sexual frustration from wives who withhold sex as a form of reward and punishment might make a lot of men aberrant. This explains a lot.

       June gloom doesn’t necessarily create gloomy moods. I’m somber because America is so great. I’ve racked on at least four lbs in such a short amount of time already. The sheer amount of top quality ingredients and simplicity of care that goes into food preparation still intrigues me. Speaking of such savories, I recently rediscovered tacos from taco trucks thanks to blog reader and friend Tin. Surely, I will miss them the most as I wake up starving and deprived in the dark of night in Saigon, dreaming of a time when I stood in line surrounded by the backbone of America on the corner of First and Newhope St. Cabeza, Asada, Carnita, or Almeja -it doesn’t matter. Just gimme and let me feast upon the mounds of cabbage and onions that melt away in my mouth. Recently, I have had to rinse awfully hard after every meal due to that healing hole where my last wisdom tooth once resided jutting into my jaw. Aside from the quality of food and the quality of round Latin booty, I miss the fact that I stay full much longer eating the food here. I had pho the other day with a close friend from Vietnam who lived there for over two and a half years and we both agreed Little Saigon is the better place to eat pho. There was definitely a lot more meat without a doubt.

          It was hard to see everyone and I didn’t have a chance to see everyone that I wanted to see.  That’s just how the cookie crumbles. This time around I’m more nervous than ever because I know exactly what it’ll be like. Maybe that’s why I’m scared. I’m excited though but dreadful of the time spent in an airplane with Chinese people. Good times ahead, no doubt. I have very simple plans for the next year. I want to prep for and do well on the GRE and get accepted into a masters’ program next fall. I have to decide what I want field I want to pursue and history and theatre aren’t what I want. I want to gain more upper body strength- not Ninja Warrior-like, but a lot stronger than I am currently. I do want to improve my Vietnamese reading and writing skills, but that isn’t on top of my priorities list. I have a few more months to determine what I want to do with the rest of my life. I want to produce more videos for YouTube, but I want to stem away from the travelogue and focus more on documentary biography. I want to create documentaries about real individual Vietnamese people stuck in the fray of Vietnam, scraping by with daily struggles. The next few months will be critical. I’m highly motivated in creating an opportunity for me to visit Burma in December and Singapore is also on top of my list assuming I have a place to stay. As for travel in Vietnam… I think maybe I will take a few trips here and there to the mountains and beaches, but I’m pretty done with visiting the northern areas and I have little desire to see the rest of the south. I’ve been there and I’ve done that. Time to move on and to use Vietnam as a stepping stone and gateway to see other countries. Money will always be tight. I’ll live marginally and have to be extra careful with expenditures. Without an income, I’m pretty much thriving on the leeches that leech off of you guys. I’m hungry. Starving for more. Bring on the heat. Oh so so hungry.

Flight.

Hate.
   I hate flying. It’s common knowledge that the older I get the more I fear flying over dental checkups. It’s gotten that bad. It’s gotten to the point where I’ll go into the plane’s lavatory and sob quietly because I’m miserable. My legs are numb and my tendons are aching. My stomach is literally trying to digest its own acid because my last meal was eight hours ago with six more long hours to go. I can’t eat airplane food because I have a serious motion sickness problem that is likely genetic. I’ve been listening to the complete discography of Art-School throughout the entire duration and it’s been rather helpful, but when the food comes out I have to plug my nose. I scored an exit row seat but some ogre of a man decided to steal the once empty spot next to me. There goes my sense of privacy in this hustling plane- I thought to myself. His halitosis made me gag several times as he exhaled through his mouth. I would catch a breath full periodically and curse silently to myself. Smoking and not brushing your teeth is not sexy at all. People always say that you get what you paid for and I’m quickly becoming aware of why most Vietnamese people love to jump on the bandwagon and favor EVA or Cathy Pacific. Their level of service and attention to detail surpasses this mediocre China Eastern. There’s no private entertainment system that has been a staple on most transpacific flights now a days. It’s 2012 after all! As much as I loved Inception, showing such an outdated movie on tiny communal screens doesn’t necessarily get brownie points at all.
    I’m frustrated and I’m hungry. The latter probably set the first off. It’s interesting to see for myself just how different the Chinese are from the Korean. I feel like I’m in the middle of Cho Lon right now. The aisles are full of standing people mingling about. The bathroom lines are ridiculously long on this airbus and the flight attendant posted to my section is a serious floor space Nazi. She bitched several times about how my laptop was poking out too much under my seat.   No matter how much the Vietnamese tend to resent the Chinese for a 1,000 years of imperialism and more contemporary island conflictions, I can easily see how relatable the two cultures are. Several people have confused me for a Chinaman. I don’t have very much to say about that. Hat’s off to the two little old ladies selling Chinese newspapers at the Tom Bradley Terminal though. I was impressed with their vigor and willingness to work.

      My calf muscles are really hurting and breathing through my nose makes me feel like I’m about to barf all over this laptop. The barf bag is open and ready. Hopefully I don’t have to use it. I’m supposed to be strong after all. I have a sense of duty. I’m exit-row material today and proud. This would be a lot easier if my stomach wasn’t begging for food. Someone has to invent faster planes. Perhaps cutting travel time by half would be nice. Another option would be to medically putting passengers under some kind of sleeping gas- that would speed things up without having to reinvent planes. I do know about sleeping pills, but unfortunately, if I don’t lay down to sleep, I will drool all over the place. My skin is incredibly dried up here. Let’s end this misery already, Jesus. Maybe I should just have stayed home. The flight attendants here sure are arrogant. What’s the deal with hot Asian flight attendants- why are they so arrogant? I find their white and black counterparts are much nicer. Just because I stand below their armpits- doesn’t mean their nose should be held so high up in the air. They just think they are so bad ass because they are tall and wear stockings better than I do. The halitosis ogre is getting worse and worse. The row in front of keeps getting visits as if they were some kind of brothel. Wow- it’s already 9 PM back in Los Angeles. Time sure does fly by quickly. Just a few more hours and then a few more hours and then many more hours on another flight and then back to the fray that is VN. 

Tear choker.

         I choked back tears as I called my mom to let her know I was departing. Minutes later my dad called me and all I could say was thank you as he wished me the best. After hanging up I put my face into my palms and tried to clench my teeth down harder so I wouldn’t quiver my lips which would likely lead to all out crying. It’s harder this time around because I know exactly what I’m getting into and the past few weeks have been a relative vacation. This is so ironic because prior trips to Vietnam and eventually having to leave made me feel exactly the same way. I think the condition is called post-vacation depression. This occurs when an individual enjoyed so much leisure and good times during a vacation and upon returning back to his office job in his cliché environment he is overwhelmed with sorrow. I hope the same won’t happen to me because I should be coming back to a whole lot of busyness. It was so much easier leaving the first time. 

America

   I'm sitting on an OCTA bus traveling east as I write this this entry. Tonight is the first night that I have ever rode a local city bus in Southern California and it's also the first time that I'm writing from a current gen. smart phone. I feel oddly Korean. There's even an ap for Blogger. Wow. What will they think of next? Nylon stockings for men?
    It's hilarious yet so sad and I'm abashed to admit this but I feel rather unsafe sitting on this bus. I've been in darker places in shadier cities and I felt less intimidated hopping on the back of a random stranger's motor bike in the thick of night. I am only orientales here surrounded by mis amigos and a few white people who should give up their homelessness and move to Vietnam to teach English. Is there something less threatening about being around other Asians or am I just a gigantic pussy big enough to fit an African hummer through. Did I manage to offend two races in one sentence?
      My parents have managed to embed certain stereotypes in me that have been glorified instead of abating during my time overseas. Thats right, I was taught to fear bus drivers. That one Simpsons episode where Lisa takes the bus to see an Egyptian exhibit has scarred me. The stern and unresponsive driver that she encounters has turned me off from riding on buses all of my life. It's the middle of the night and I'm scared to be here by myself in the mean streets of Garden Grove. Garden Grove- where anything can happen- yo. I pulled the stop request line too soon. Hopefully no compadres noticed. I'm not a bus noob. I'm not a bus virgin. And don't consider me new fish. I've been on buses in San Francisco driven by Chinese drivers. I've been in a crowded grope-free bus in Seoul. I've been in a hostile over night endurance bus from Hanoi to Hue. I've been in a sardine can of a bus in Saigon with plenty of groping. But this is GG yo. Steve Martin went to highschool here.
     My stop is here. I'm sorry readers...to the two that I have left. I haven't abdicated this blog. I'll be back in Vietnam by the end of the week with more to say than ever. Be right back.

Food nation.

     I've been eating well. Too well. I've packed on two lbs in less than twelve days. The food here is amazing. It's plentiful and muy rico. My relatives have been feeding me well. My parents have so much food in their fridge. I'm going to seriously feel deprived when I return to Vietnam where I have to hunt for my own food in the jungle like a caveman. In a jungle full of lard and lack of hygiene. It's the choice I made to return, but each passing day- with each meal - with each bite, it gets harder and harder to leave America now that I'm eating like a white American. The food here is good. Too good. 

and the best part is that I have soap to wash my hands with

Octopus style

Thanks Vicky, Hop, and Judd.

Quaint update.

        My tooth's out. My mouth is bloody and I'm sitting at Lee's Sandwiches because I don't have internet at home. I think I bought an unlockable iPhone out of pure rushed stupidity. I had to have it on that one day and without researching I bought a base band that isn't unlockable yet. Lol. Looks like I have an expensive desk ornament now. Hopefully they can unlock it somehow in Vietnam. I'm not in the mood to meet up with a stranger to sell it. My gap left from my surgically removed tooth is starting to really hurt as the anesthesia is wearing off. Pain killers give me headaches. Internet is so fast in America. I found myself watching TV again because HD signals are just so amazing. I've gained two lbs in the week that I've been here. My diet is full of meat and carbs and delicious Mexican sweets. I need to change the gauze in my mouth pretty soon. I've spent time in San Diego, Oceanside, Long Beach, as well as my old stompin' grounds in Little Saigon. I've seen plenty of friends and will see more as soon as I recover from having my last wisdom tooth removed. I'm in no condition to speak to anyone right now. I'll stay at home for a few days and edit that Korean video but won't be able to complete it because I can't record narration yet. I bought some new dress shoes at Burlington Coat Factory in Huntington Beach yesterday. That area is booming compared to the drab Anaheim and Santa Ana areas that I've passed. The K-Mart in Anaheim and the surrounding businesses depresses me. The once popular Nickle Nickle has gone out of the business with a metal fence surrounding the complex  to prove it. It's funny how even the smallest dress shirts sold here don't even fit me. The shoes barely fit me. I was lucky they had a size 9 even though I'm a size 8 and a half. Pants off the rock hardly fit me at all here. Though, t shirts and most shirts fit well, as long as I'm shopping in the children's section. The breeze here is amazing. The sun is great because it doesn't burn my eyelids or cause my face to be bright red. The breeze is chilly despite the abundant sunshine. This is my kind of weather. I love California right now.