the tale of two sheets and the first night living in a vietnamese home

I guess I should leave it up to Jen to share the details of her new job (if she ever gets around to it). What I will say is, after accepting her job, she was immediately flown to Hochimihn City the next day for four days of training. What followed could be described by some as separation anxiety. We exchanged four emails each day (morning update, afternoon update, late afternoon update, and evening update) followed by a before bed phone conversation. Excessive? Probably yes, but it was the first time since we had met two months ago that we were apart for more than a few hours. It quickly became apparent to us how lucky we were to have each other on this unknown journey. Without someone to share my daily frustrations and humorous accounts with, many days giving up and going home would have seemed like the only sane thing to do. While I consider myself a very independent person and thoroughly enjoy my "Danielle time", it is the simple things, like having a normal conversation in English, that I took for granted.
Since then, we have settled into our daily routines, moved into a great house, and FINALLY unpacked our bags. Jen works during the day and I am teaching at two different language schools nights and weekends, which results in us not seeing each other very often. We joke that we have turned into an old married couple, struggling to find time to catch up about our day over a dinner. Since moving into our house, we are even sleeping in separate bedrooms now. Well, with the exception of our first night here.
That morning, we woke up early and collected everything we own into our few bags. We were picked up by a taxi driver, who was immediately irritated with us for having more luggage than the typical backpacker. Disgruntled, he threw our bags out onto the street leading to the alley that was our new neighborhood. The alley was too narrow for the taxi to drive through, so we had to make two separate trips in order to carry everything home. Jen made the first trip, while I sat on the corner surrounded by our bags and curious stares from the locals. Upon arriving in our new home, we quickly discovered that the Vietnamese idea of clean varies greatly from our western standards. I spent a large portion of the day scrubbing the house with only soap and water, since cleaning products other than dish soap seem to be non-existent here. And after lugging around my 1000 thread count, sateen, egyptian cotton sheets (I am a bit of a linen nazi) for two months, I joyfully removed the hideous teeny bopper, neon blue and pink flowered bedding with "Smashing" written on it that someone had specifically chosen for me, off the bed and replaced it with my beloved sheets. I could not wait cuddle up in bed that night with quality sheets for the first time since arriving in Asia.
After a long day, we ventured out in search of dinner. We came across a grocery store down the street from us and decided to check it out. We were tickled to find delicasies inside, such as peanut butter and cheese, and opted for a dinner of peanut butter sandwiches, crackers and cheese and of course beers, instead. While very collegiate, to us it tasted like heaven.
We returned to our rooms to prepare for bed, only to discover that the power in my room was out. We grabbed my headlamp and began a blind search for the fuse box. After finally stumbling across it in the hallway, Jen bravely stuck her hand into a very unsafe, ancient looking fuse box. With each switch flip, I cringed, praying that I wouldn't have an electrical burn victim on my hands. What followed each flip could best be described as the noise of a rat being electricuted combined with the sound of Chucky's laughter, but to no avail, the power did not return. And thus, I was forced to spend my first night in our new house, sharing a bed with Jen, to escape the heat of an unairconditioned, fanless room. While the room next door contained a bed equipped with the finest linens, I slept on weird plastic like, 5-thread count, crazy blue floral (the perfect print for a muumuu) Vietamese sheets that came with Jen's bed. Needless to say, if we had bladder control problems, these sheets would have worked wonders. Regardless, she has since then purchased new sheets of the more comfortable variety.