It’s Friday night in Long Xuyen, Vietnam. I’m sitting at home in my room after what seemed like a long week (indeed only my second week back, hard to believe!) and sipping a glass of fairly crappy Vàng Đà Lạt, listening to the rain fall outside my door. I just read one of my new student’s blogs. She is Vietnamese but writes poetry in English, and touching poetry at that. She writes about missing her family, and the feeling she gets when she looks at their fading picture on her wall. She writes about happiness, and how happiness feels, and that she feels happiest when she’s doing something for other people. I felt that to read her blog was like a window into her soul that I rarely get with my students…
And I am reflecting on my own busy week, my second week back, during which I have turned in the research proposal, taught 11 periods of class, had coffee with at least 15 students, played badminton twice, had a meeting about the mentoring program with 14 third year female students, and suffered two abbrasions as a result of my clumsy trip on the pavement on Wednesday (somehow I scraped my shoulder, despite the fact that I was wearing a short-sleeve shirt??) It has been a good week. And I will probably go to bed at about 11 pm, after talking to Eric and Minh for a few minutes when they get home from teaching. I can’t help thinking how different life is here as opposed to New York City, and even Ho Chi Minh City, where I have been for the past two weekends. In the cities my peers are going out, staying up late, drinking, partying, gathering, causing trouble, and having fun. And I am in my room alone drinking a glass of red wine, slowly, and contemplating the slow life that is Long Xuyen. Would I change it? It seems somewhat sad when I think about it…and it is so much harder to be back here for a second year: much harder to be committed to something on a long-term basis. Now it’s not a game, things aren’t really new, and to stay means…I still haven’t really figured it out. Oh, it’s funny how the rain and a sleepy Friday night makes one muse like this 
