Turning Japanese?

For the first two weeks the only people living in my building were myself, Bria, and two older Korean men.  Now there are students on the upper floors, a Taiwanese teacher, and a Japanese teacher, Keiko.  Since we are all roughly the same age, we have been hanging out and working through our language differences.  The other night Keiko treated us to dinner at what I believe is the only Japanese restaurant in Dalat.  Yes, it was weird going out for Asian food other than Vietnamese, but the restaurant is excellent.  It's called Restaurant Ichi and its owner Tomohiro Suzuki is actually from Japan by way of Brooklyn.  He speaks good English and seemed so genuinely thrilled to have Americans and Japanese customers that he gave us a 20% discount on our bill.  The food was actually a lot better than the western food which we've been eating once a week.  The only drawback is that they have no Sushi or Sashimi, but as Bria asked me "would you really want to eat raw fish in Vietnam?"  I suppose not.

Keiko and the Taiwanese girl, whom I'll call Lee because I am unsure of how to actually say her name have been more than tolerant of our American customs.  I think they're somewhat curious and probably find us a little weird.  The first night Keiko was hanging out with Bria and I, we watched Step Brothers, probably not the movie we should have introduced ourselves with.