Bus to America

The time is ticking down. Just a week and a few hours before the plane departs.

Speaking of planes, that is one mild concern of mine. Maia, even though she’s already been on a dozen flights, has suddenly developed a fear of airplanes. It came from our trip to Da Nang, when we had to board the plane from the tarmac. As we were walking up the stairs, the airplane’s engine revved up, freaking Maia out.

Now, every day she says, “Papa, today we go to America, ok?” I tell her, “Not today, but soon.” To which she replies, “Ok. But no take airplane, ok? We take bus go to America.”

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English lesson

Maia’s teaching her friend English. However, she’s run into some trouble:

Friend: Eko! Eko! Eko!
Maia: That’s not eko. That’s a chair!
Friend: Eko!
Maia: Papa! That’s not eko. That’s a chair.
Me: Yes, that’s a chair.
Maia (to friend): That’s a chair ma! (“Ma” being a Vietnamese ending to a sentence)

(Btw, I have no idea what an “eko” is.)