'K.....so, I flew outta Pearson (YYZ - Toronto).....
....at some absurd hour in the A.M. (like, 6AM) after three hours of sleep.
Make it to Atlanta after an hour and a half on the flight from T.O. speaking and laffing with a cool Gordie chick named Angel, dawdled about Hartsfieid-Jackson forra couple hours, hopped on a painful 16 hour flight to Seoul, dawdled around Incheon forra couple hours, hopped on a painful 4 hour flight to Ha Noi and finally got there 27 hours from the time that I took off from Toronto.
Boy did THAT suck.....next time, it's outta PDX, thass for Goddamm sure!!
Got into Ha noi, Immigration and Customs didn't bat an eyelash (blew through them both in under FIVE MINUTES), got my luggage and walked out into the main terminal. Was told to go find Michael The Nigarian (I know....I know....sounds like a character from the film La Femme Nikita - "E, this is Michael The Nigerian....we could not send Viktor The Cleaner.....") and expecting to see a sign saying "Welcome to Viet Nam, E" but could not find ANY Nigerian-Vietnamese (as opposed to, say, African-Americans), nor anyone holding any signs to that effect.
After about 35 minutes, I went to some booth in Noi Bai Airport and got a SIM card for my quad-band world fone. Got a Vietnamese fone number and called the owner of my school, Mr Tuan Dang (or, as the Vietnamese would put it, Dang Tuan), and explained to him that I could not find Michael The Nigerian!
Tuan explained to me that both, he and Michael were there. I told them my exact location, then this gaggle of, like, nine people came spilling out of nowhere running up to me and started hugging me. I guess that there are folks who apparently were so excited about the arrival of the skool's first Yankee instructor that they all piled into a van for the two and-a-half hour drive from Hai Phong!
Errmmm........OK! Shit, I can't even git anyone to meet me at PDX or DEN.......
There was much happiness upon locating me at Ha Noi - Noi Bai airport, and a fotograff was taken with me being presented a bouquet of red roses by Dang Tuan's daughter (the pic of that will be in next post).
Again....I can't git anyone to meet me at PDX or DEN.
After a painful two-and-a-half hour van ride back to Hai Phong (where I was educated as to how to state the terms for fornication, male genitalia, and lady of the night in Vietnamese), we arrived at Tuan's estate (and, by Vietnamese standards, this literally IS an estate - it has FOUR CHANNELS of ESPN on a 1080p 52" screen), where we were treated to a splendid repast of food that I could not identify, several pints of Ha Noi brand bia (beer) and a few cigarettes.
I then went to bed and died a happy man......