The Bald Adventure

            It had finally come to pass. I looked at myself in the dirty mirror with a cloth wrapped around my neck. The barber stood behind me preparing his tools. Weeks earlier Professor Lee, our team leader, had talked about it. He said that Beijing would be a good place to do it. Unfortunately though, we never got around to doing it while in China. I assumed Professor Lee had a plan, but he did not. On one of our last days we looked for a place, but since it was so last minute we were unable to find a suitable place. So we put it off until we could find a place in Vietnam. That is when we found ourselves in Phu Tha Province, where I got more than I had anticipated.

            We had been working in the commune helping them construct a drainage trench. The health center for the whole commune had some nearby water build up. Since the water was stagnant it became a mosquito breeding ground. Our objective was to construct a water runoff conduit to allow the water to flow into the rice patties.

            The people in Phu Tha were very welcoming. It felt good to do manual labor with the natives and contribute to their project. Unfortunately due to rain, often our work was cancelled. Such was the case on the day I shaved my head. In lieu of mixing more cement, we had plans to visit homes and learn about the lives of the villagers. But first, it was time for a haircut. Professor Lee had located a barber and decided it was time for us to finally shave our heads. I was excited, but my stomach churned with apprehension.

            A large group sought out the barber. When we arrived everyone was making a commotion about how excited or nervous they were. Several doubted my looks without hair. As people still congregated around the outdoor barber’s chair, Adam looked at me and said, “Nick, you’re first.” That caught me off guard. I didn’t want to be first. Something could go wrong. Or the naysayers may be right and my hairless scalp will look bad. Then I realized that I was going to do this, so there was no reason to hesitate. I said, “Oh, okay,” and sat down.

            Then Nat, an American grad student doing research with the health center and our amateur translator, eventually explained what I wanted to the barber. Then the clippers came out and all the hair came off. Many exclamations of surprise followed as my scalp, which had not seen the sun for many years, reflected every source of nearby light. Then the barber pulled out a straight razor and started scraping every hair off my head. I was so focused on what he was doing and the pain that emanated through my scalp that I failed to realize that most people had wandered back to the commune headquarters. After having everything but my goatee shaved, I stood and looked at myself in the mirror and thought, “Not bad.”

            Next it was my friend Wesley’s turn. Having done this before he had no qualms about cleaning everything off his head. As the barber began the process of shaving his head, I explored the feeling of having no hair. With the Vietnamese humidity, any refreshing breeze that cooled my scalp was delightful. I rubbed my smooth head and smiled, this was a good choice.

            Unfortunately though, time had run out. Getting our heads shaved had taken longer than anticipated, so the rest of the interested parties could not get their heads shaved. In fact, while Wesley was still half hairless, the rest of our group had to leave for the tour. I stayed behind with Wesley, Josh, one of our leaders, and Nat. Once we were finished, we were supposed to meet with our group outside of the health center and complete the rest of the tour with them. But abiding by the laws of APC, “All Plans Change,” that did not work as expected.

            We walked over to the health center and discovered that our group would arrive in a short while. So we stood outside the health center, in the middle of red clay talking about anything from the dead dragonfly that one of the village boys handed to Josh to Nat’s life plans. After spending about an hour talking and getting to know both Nat and my teammates better, we decided to do something.

            With nothing but the health center nearby, Nat suggested we go in and start our visit early. We walked into the nearly deserted courtyard. As we peered into the different rooms we saw one filled with people who I would later learn were doctors. Nat went up and asked them if they would mind if we looked around. Somehow amidst all of the Vietnamese being spoken, none of which I understood, we were invited into the office with the doctors. The old 90s Windows screen saver was the brightest thing in the room. The barber shop seemed as sterile as the dark smoky room we were sitting in.

            We sat at a short table with several doctors. They poured us bitter green tea and offered us cigarettes. After we all refused, they started smoking. The more tea we drank from our small cups, the more they poured. There was only so much of the bitter brew that I could drink, so as they kept pouring I remembered that in Vietnamese culture if a person finished something that meant that they wanted more. So on my final cup I just took a sip and let it be. No one seemed offended, and I was relieved.

            Sitting in the health office proved to be quite an interesting experience. None of the doctors spoke any English, and only Nat could speak any Vietnamese. This meant that all communication went through Nat, and since his Vietnamese was limited all conversation was slow and halting. We slowly struggled through the normal pleasantries, hello, what’s your name, how old are you, where are you from, etc. Then came the question I was not expecting, “Are any of you married?” While Nat told all of the doctors that none of us had married in Vietnamese I had time to ponder the situation. I could not understand why the doctors had asked us that question. Perhaps they were trying to set us up with some nice Vietnamese girls. Maybe they were trying to find husbands for their granddaughters. I was not used to being asked that question by a group of older men.

            All of this worry came to naught. Later I discovered that it was customary for Vietnamese to ask if someone was married. It would be the American equivalent of asking what someone did for a living. I found out that there was much depth to the Vietnamese marriage culture. Every person had lucky years to get married depending on the year of their animal. My lucky years to marry turned out to be at age twenty, twenty-four and thirty. I also discovered I should marry a woman older than me. This was lucky for me since my girlfriend was already older than I was. All I had to do was convince her that we needed to marry in a certain auspicious time frame and everything would be fine.

            As I sat there stupefied and somewhat concerned, Nat’s next question seemed less strange, “Do any of you have a girlfriend?”

            I said, “I do.” He then asked how long I had been dating and I told him two years. This seemed to pacify the doctors. The conversation continued in Vietnamese, and I sat back relieved and sipped my tea once again. As soon as I set my cup down it was refilled by one of the doctors.

            As I sat in my reverie Nat carried on with the doctors. I was more than happy to not be the center of attention. I smiled to myself as I rubbed my freshly smooth head. However Nat soon turned to us and asked, “Would you like to see a baby that has just been born?”

            Josh looked at Wesley and me and said, “Sure.” But we were all puzzled. If the baby had just been born, how was it that we had heard nothing and the doctors were sitting with us sipping tea? Seeing our confused expressions, Nat explained as we crossed the courtyard, “The Vietnamese are very shy about things like this. Often times there will be no noise. Sometimes, even, a woman will be walking around the room and just, plop! The baby comes out.” This fact impressed us.

            We then followed one of the doctors into the room where the woman was recovering. Her whole family turned and looked at us as we entered. They stared at us in confusion as the contingent of four large Americans walked in. We smiled and offered our congratulations, which I am sure none of them understood. The room was so bare that it only compared to the barbershop in the number of people filling the space. Nat then discovered that the birth had been two hours prior, and shared this news with us. That cleared up all of our questions. After smiling and saying goodbye we stepped out and mulled it over. It was an interesting coincidence that since I shaved my head I was able to see the new life.

If You Traveled the World...

            Concordia’s Around-the-World Semester is quite a unique experience. You get to circumnavigate the globe, visit amazing sites like the Great Wall of China or Machu Picchu, and meet people who live very different from you. Each residence, however, is a different beast. From the steppes of Mongolia to the Super 8 Happy Dragon Hotel Hostel in Beijing, each place that you live in will be quite different. Adjusting to these abnormalities in your life will be a trying experience. This is written to give you a brief idea about what you may or may not encounter when you visit each destination.

Terelj National Park, Ger Home Stay, Mongolia. $260 a day:

            The first thing that will happen when you arrive is that you will be given a horse and told to ride. With no experience, you will have to focus too much on the horse and will miss the green rolling hills that surround you. Eventually though you will arrive at a destination and hope that you can finally rest, but unfortunately you will discover that it is only a short stop for lunch. So you will clamber back on your horse, and blindly follow the leaders until suddenly they lead you into a grove where you will have to set up camp.

            You will grab two roommates and pitch a tent in the small glade with everyone else. Then, you will charge up a large hill wheezing like an asthmatic and passing real ones in order to look out over the Mongolian steppes. At the top you will discover a shamanistic altar. As the sun sets you realize that that is your light source and you should get off the mountain before it is all gone. After a dinner of rice mixed with vegetables, you will take turns with your Mongolian guides singing songs from your native lands. After witnessing a shooting star you go to bed.

            The next morning you decide to sleep instead of getting up early to gallop on horses with your friends. This means getting more sleep but missing out on an adventure. You will decide it was not that important, and pack up before breakfast. Then you get back on a horse and begin your ride back. Your guides will tell you to go faster if you desire. This will go well for a while, but eventually one of your group will get thrown from the horse. This will cause everyone else to become scared, and high speeds will be discouraged. Eventually you will reach camp and ride in feeling like an expert rider.

Super 8 New Dragon Hotel/Hostel, Beijing China. $20 per night. 8610-52190188:

            When you first arrive you will discover that you are uncertain what you are going to reside in, or even the name. One sign says Super 8 Hotel and the other says New Dragon Hostel. But soon enough you won’t care since the air conditioning feels so nice compared to the sweltering Beijing heat.

            Once in your room you will pull out only what you need and let the rest of your bag get strewn across the narrow floor. Then you will explore the building and discover a bar/restaurant/social hangout downstairs. While your bedroom resembled a hotel, this red room with masks and flags hanging everywhere is more like a hostel. After a long awaited and delicious flavor filled meal full of assorted Chinese dishes, you will return to your room and sort through the hotel amenity kit of toothbrushes and many types of soap. You will even note that the bar of soap comes from the Forbidden City Hostel, which is neither name you have seen before. Since you have everything you need you will swiftly lose interest.

            In the following days you will become more comfortable with the hotel. You will sleep later, and use more of the free services. Your roommates will also suspect that the cleaning ladies have gone through your stuff without actually cleaning your room. This will concern you considering you just read a story by Rolf Potts about his bananas being stolen by the hotel cleaning ladies. But since nothing seems to have disappeared you feel safe.

            Toward the end of your stay you will notice that the bathroom has taken on a strange odor. This will lead to the discovery that your toilet does not rid itself of anything but liquids. And since all of your friends have decided to use your bathroom instead of the squatty-potties, there is quite a load building up. Though somehow the cleaning ladies remove all of the excrement the next day, the problem persists, and you will be glad that you only have a little time left.

Nha Nghi Hoang Giall, Pho Thang, Vietnam. $23 per night. 0210 2487 015:

            When you awake from you late night nap on the bus and discover you have arrived, you will stumble out into a light drizzle to get your room assignment. As orders are being given, you realize that your sole roommate for the next week will be the only junior high boy on the trip, Matt. This will cause you some concern since your only interactions have either left you confused or concerned. You accept it though, feeling a sense of martyrdom as you trudge to your room.

            It will be as you unpack that your worst fears on the trip will be realized here: bugs. Your neighbor, Seth, will invite you to his room and point out a spot on the wall. As you peer through the dim light you will realize that he is pointing at a spider the size of your hand. You will return to your room and keep a wary eye out for anything that could cause harm. Matt will find the only spider worth note in the bathroom. Feeling a sickening feeling you will decide to leave it be, hoping that maybe it will be struck by lightning, or something of that persuasion. Unfortunately nothing of that sort happens and you have to go to bed hoping that your mosquito net will save you if it suddenly becomes rabid in the middle of the night.

            Bugs are only a small part of your problem at this point though. As you try to read and journal before going to bed Matt will insist on having a conversation, and will talk straight through your entire night. Entirely exhausted, you hope sleep assails him quickly, which it does, and you are left in peace.