What are you talking about? I'm totally 21.

Sunday didn't exactly go as planned, but that's a good thing, not a bad thing. I met Lam at the Peace House and mentioned to him that I wanted to head out into Hanoi to get some lunch and then look for a present to buy my sister, maybe some jewelry, so he said that he knew a place and that he'd take me, and he also knew a good place to get Vietnamese food. Well, I'm never going to ignore advice from a native. So around quarter to eleven, we headed out on his motorbike – they're so much more fun to ride when you aren't dreading getting ripped off at the end – and he drove me around to his university, the University of Technology, I think it was, because it was on the way. All the buildings are big blocky structures, painted the same golden yellow color as every other building in Hanoi. Lam says that his university is very difficult to get into, but ultimately disappointing for the students, which is really a shame. He wants to go to graduate school in America – a lot of Vietnamese students I've spoken to do. The difference in tuition between Vietnam and America is huge, though. All the schools here are state-run, of course, and students only have to pay minimal tuition. It really seems like the government is training a super-generation to take over the country from them.

Then he took me to a little shop selling lots of cheap little trinkety things, rhinestone headbands and whatnot, which really wasn't what I was looking for, so I found a pretty (and cheap) pair of earrings and bought them to be polite. It doesn't even cost a dollar to not hurt someone's feelings. They actually are pretty – I'll probably keep them for myself.

Then he drove me over to the West Lake, which I had never seen before, and around to a small, crowded, and fantastic Vietnamese restaurant. It was pretty cheap, and looked exactly like every other small, cheap Vietnamese restaurant I'd seen, but the food was fantastic. I would be too scared to go into one of those places by myself – just because I wouldn't be able to communicate anything and the whole experience would probably be a failure – but with Lam, it was a lot of fun – and very good food!

A side note to what I just said: even though I'd still avoid going to one of those places, those really native places, I have learned to care a lot less about what people think of me. I've come to accept that here, I'm going to make a fool of myself at least once per day, doing something stupid or getting lost or having a misunderstanding. It's inevitable that people will stare or maybe laugh, and it's inevitable that I might have to ask someone for help, and that's the only way I'll get to where I need to go. Inevitably it will all work out. To quote someone I don't particularly want to emulate, I've relied (quite successfully) on the kindness of strangers.

Then he drove me over to Hoan Kiem Lake and we got some ice cream and sat around and talked. I love sitting by that lake. It's so, so beautiful, and when you're by the water, you can completely forget there's a city buzzing around you on all sides. Hanoi is like that. You'll walk down a street of shops and shouting and traffic and come across a door to a pagoda, traditional Vietnamese architecture, in the middle of a busy city street. Go in and there's a little bit of peace waiting right there.

He had to leave, so I went to a cafe nearby to take advantage of their wireless (I'd brought my laptop.) I ordered some “tropical fruit” ice cream and got a little cup with four scoops of different flavors. I have no clue what any of them were. Two were yellow-colored, one was pink, and one was purple. All were very good. Then I went and wandered until I found something to buy Maddy, and then went back to the lake to get a chance to sit and take stock (as surreptitiously as possible) of how much cash I had left. Not much, but that's okay. I want to go out for Indian food on Tuesday night, and other than that I want to blow all my extra money buying bootlegged DVDs. Mmm, piracy. Between the cooking supplies Mrs. Thanh gave me and these bootlegs, I'm going to become quite the smuggler coming home. Let's not even pretend I know how much money I spent here for filling out the customs form.

So the second I finish counting my money, a young Vietnamese man sits down next to me and asks me if he can talk to me. I hug my bag to my chest and ask if he wants to sell me anything. He says no, so we start to talk – and then a young Vietnamese girl sits down on the other side of me and asks to talk to me. Everyone in Vietnam is studying English, and everyone needs to practice on real people. They do fine on paper but when it comes to speaking and listening, they generally have trouble. So then another young man comes and sits with us. Three people total. Insane. More lies, more lies. No matter how much evidence I get that people like this are friendly and mean no harm, my New York instincts won't leave me alone.

When I took the bus home to Peace House, the girl sitting behind me on the bus asked to talk to me as well. Jesus christ. So I said sure, and we began to chat, and she actually called me out on it when I said I was twenty-one (which wasn't a shock – who in the world would believe I'm twenty-one?) but I refused to give in – she was getting off soon anyway.

The buses home were lovely today – I guess it's Sunday so not as many people had to commute to/from school/work. I actually enjoy being on the buses, when I can sit down and it's not so crowded that I can't see out the window to check if it's my stop, or actually get to the door in time when I realize that it is.

I use hyphens way too much when I write. I'll have to do something about that.

Tomorrow's my last full day of teaching, and then Tuesday I'm teaching the Special Children again, and then we all say good bye. The time's gone by so, so fast.