expat tennis in saigon

Just when you think that you found a good deal from a 24 hour fitness club membership back home that offers a complimentary towel per visit, well check out all the trimmings from this Southeast Asia tennis lesson.

The other night Daniel, my expat friend, came home from work to go to his first tennis lesson in Vietnam (I am currently staying with him, his wife and two children in their beautiful home which has privileges to a tennis court, fitness center and near Olympic size swimming pool).  Back in the day, Daniel used to be an excellent player.  He hasn't played in years due to his interests in other sports (kite surfing being his weekend mistress), and he felt that he needed to work on his fundamentals a bit.  At work, his Vietnamese tennis-playing colleague referred him to a Vietnamese instructor who would come over to his court for an hour of instruction.

The lesson was scheduled for 7:30pm, and at around 7:45pm we heard a couple scooters arriving outside his door.  Two men rode the motorbikes. One of the men was rather short, thin and reserved. A chubby jovial fella handled the other scooter.  One Honda carried a second passenger, a young portly Vietnamese women who began to speak to us in perfect English.  She apologized for their tardiness due to difficulties finding the place.  This is the norm in Vietnam since no one owns or knows how to read a map.  As we walked towards the tennis court she explained that the thin gentleman was the tennis instructor and the overweight man was his assistant.  She on the other hand would be serving as the translator (it turns out she was Vietnamese-American and raised in Portland, Oregon).

Once on the court, and with the warm-up underway, the translator asked if my friend had a ball boy.  He replied that he did not.  There were already three attendants helping out with the lesson! Wouldn't a fourth make the court a bit too crowded?  They made Daniel aware that in Vietnam it is customary to have a ball boy.  My friend responded that in the US it was customary to fetch balls as part of the workout.

Under the floodlights, the lesson began. The assistant stood on the same side of the court as the teacher and took care of any balls that would come his way.  This allowed for an intense exchange between them and my friend.  Who needs a ball machine?

The quality of the instruction was very good, and my friend was impressed with how quickly the instructor had diagnosed his backhand problems.  I think the whole gang will re-unite next week for another lesson.  However, will Daniel succumb to having a ball boy or will he choose to continue picking balls.  To be continued...