The road comes to a standstill. A procession is just ahead. Frustration for the expats who have been here for a while--captivating for me. The chance to see the fascinating world outside. We are heading to Club Noah, which, though open to all is a hidden spot with minimal signage. It is operated by the father of the famed Yannick Noah, the last Frenchman to win the French Open, and now a well known songster. His son is making his mark playing basketball. I walk--my first chance to get some exercise in. I test out my newly purchased walking poles and find them to be light and sturdy with nice handles and straps. If only I can walk a bit further.
Rain pours down--the first of many storms, I suspect, as we are head into the rainy season. We swim, we eat a simple lunch, then head back. I have just enough time to clean up before heading out once again.
I meet May, who is a line dancing teacher. No, I would not say that I have much interest in line dancing, but anything that will get me out of my apartment for a few hours’ diversion is welcome. And the exercise and networking is a bonus. We dance for a couple hours along with expats--the Vietnamese consul and her husband, the wife of the IMF chief in town, the Belgian consul, and a German couple. We balance off our calorie output with some Malay style coconut filled crepe rolls and watermelon. I am invited to a potluck luncheon. Great! I am getting a good start integrating into the community.
No comments:
Post a Comment