The final bridal shower I was given probably resembled an American party the most out of the three I was thrown. The group in charge of games researched bridal games off the internet and we ended up seeing who could pop their 5 balloons the quickest by sitting on them, who could be the first to blow up the balloon so it burst, and who would end up with the gift being passed around the 
table when the music stopped (a version of hot potato). After the games, we were finally 
allowed to assemble the ingredients to the ham (or some kind of mystery meat) sandwiches laid out before us. I thought they tasted great and even though they were definitely a new item to my students, they were hungry enough to make everything disappear. Unfortunately no one got the chance to try the jello the students attempted because they didn't realize it making it in ice cube trays and then leaving it out for a long time before serving it will make it turn into a messy puddle. Oh well; it's hard to blame them for not getting it right when they've never tried it or seen it made.
Even though I was relieved to find this party more relaxing because everyone was allowed to stay seated, as with the other two bridal showers, there was a definite Vietnamese flair to this shower as well: forcing people to sing to the guest of honor around the dinner table. Because my students were relentless with pressuring me to sing, I decided on a song I wrote for Jon this past fall.
The student who hosted the party at her house fetched her guitar for me, but I was unable to tune it despite our great efforts to use a wrench to turn one of the pegs that had broken off. So I dusted 
off my pants from the long unused guitar had collected and sang the song acapella. With encouragement a few other students sang some love songs in English 
before the dishes and tables were swept away and the front porch of my students house became a dance floor lit by candle light. Hopefully the quiet country neighbors surrounding my student's house didn't mind the loud American music pulsing out a heavy beat, but I'm guessing they might not have even turned their heads for more than a moment because Karaoke rooms rented out of people's homes produce just as much sound and for much later into the night.
When the dancing died down, everyone gathered to eagerly watch me open the gifts they had carefully wrapped (magazine cutouts of lingerie and household goods). It was fun to hold up the clippings and get squeals. No one gave me a car or motorbike from this class, but I do think I got a few diamond rings...
The evening was a great success and I went home feeling almost more energized than when I came. Thanks for a beautiful and fun-filled party class B!
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