At around five am on this cloudy Friday, my brothers woke up, surprised that I ended up sleeping on the floor in their room. They laughed at me, telling that I should sleep some more, and left me to go do their chores. I had slept for about four hours up 'till five. I decided to sleep some more 'till about six thirty, moving back to my old room that I slept in for the first two weeks at the center. I finally got up, stretched and headed back to my room to take a shower. Upon finishing up in the showers, I received a phone call from Ms. Hong, telling me that I was to not teach today. "You are invited to the pre-wedding ceremony of Ms. Minh, and also to meet Mr. Van," she said, "today is going to be your only opportunity to meet Mr. Van." I agreed and went around to all the houses, telling the them that I would not be teaching and that I would be leaving for Da Nang at around four o'clock.
When I at last walked down to the younger children's houses, I came across Vung, the girl who I accidentally injured the day before, sitting with a couple of her sisters. I grazed my hand over her forehead, taking a better look at the cut. It was getting better, but still was a noticeable red mark above her eyebrow. I apologized once again and asked her if it hurt. She shook her head side to side, telling me that it stopped hurting. I smiled, feeling a little bit more happy at that point. I promised myself I would make it up somehow (and still am thinking of what to do about it). I walked up to the Ngoc Lanh house. Man greeted me, a cast in his arm. "Ben! I broke my arm yesterday" he said, laughing a little. I sat down with him and asked him to tell me what happened. "I was juggling the soccer ball and tripped," he replied, "and I fell with all my weight on my arm." He saw the X-rays as still did not know what to think of them. This was his first broken bone. I told his mother, Ms. Lan (I know my spelling is off), that I wouldn't be able to join them for lunch due to heading to the pre-wedding celebration of Ms. Minh, the secretary of the center (now I finally remember!). I also met up with Phuoc this morning, sitting alone in front of the fish pond near the entrance of the center. I sat with him, asking him a little about his family. He was an only child, his father nonexistent in his life. His mother lived in his home village and was his only other member of his family that he kept in close contact with. He told me that he was able to call her a few times over the course of the few days he's been at the center. He eventually left me, going back to his room or maybe to play with the other children. I decided to head back to to get ready for ceremony.
Mrs. Hong called for me from her motorscooter about to head down the path towards the entrance. I quickly changed and hopped on, waving at all the students as we rode off towards the hotel where Mr. Van was residing. Okay, a little history of Mr. Van. Mr. Van is one of the biggest donors of the center and has been involved since its inception. The center actually was not at 37 Le Ngo Cat Street when it was first created. It was first at a rundown area a little further away in Hue, but the city eventually donated land, a graveyard, for a new center to be built. Mr. Van, a surprisingly energetic and tireless 77 year man, has been donating every year, tens of thousands of US dollar equivalent donations to the center, essentially being one of the life forces of the center. I was told that first he was a scientist in France, but recently retired to engage in philanthropic and other business ventures. I actually contacted him by phone frequently while finishing up my last term of freshman year at Dartmouth. What I failed to comprehend at the time was that he actually lived in France, near Paris, as Eva, the french volunteer told me. He was a worldly man, speaking many languages, but also suffered from a slight stutter in his speech. He was loved by all the children, many of them commenting on his work ethic and kindness. So back to the ride over with Mrs. Hong.
I never expected the director of the center to be such a fascinating individual. Upon first meeting her and being offered her hospitality and friendliness, I instantly became like a best friend to her and her family. She told me about her view on children, talking about her older son in China, one overseas, and her daughter who just recently got into an academy of music in Hue. She welcomed my advice, often asking me what I thought of Vietnam, marriage, and also a number of other things. In some ways I feel like she treats as if I'm her own son. I look forward to getting to know her more as the years go on past my stay at the center. Through the convenience of the internet, I know this will be possible. Anyways, we eventually reached the hotel, which was about thirty minutes away from the center.
Upon entering the area, an ex-child of the center showed up, baby in hand, and accompanied by her husband. Mrs. Hong opened her arms and hugged the woman, who said her baby had been born only 3 months ago. We all walked to the reception desk, seeking an audience with Mr. Van, who had apparently been well known in the area as well. There he was, a surprisingly happy and healthy looking elderly man, his wife accompanying him. They had both been scientists in France I was told. I will always remember that look, that presence I felt when I saw him in person for the first time. He looked at me, smiled, and asked me for my name. I replied in Vietnamese, which to his surprise was remarkably good. "Why didn't you speak to me in Vietnamese when you called me from America?" he said. "Sorry, I didn't know as much Vietnamese as I do now, and the phone quality was bad" I replied, scratching my head a bit. "Oh no worries, its great to see you in person" he said, then turning to Mrs. Hong and the ex-child of the center, embracing them and asking them how they were doing. Mr. Van's wife approached me, asking me how I was doing, and also telling me how surprised she was that I spoke Vietnamese. We had an interesting chat, talking over some of my reasons for coming back to Vietnam, and my feelings thus far on the center. We eventually decided that me, Mrs. Hong, and Mr. Van would head off to Ms. Minh's pre-wedding ceremony. We called a taxi and went right off, saying goodbye to the couple and Mrs. Van.
The learned a lot the ride over to the ceremony. Our taxi driver, to my surprise, was actually from the same area that my village is from, called Phong Hai. He asked me for the name of my paternal grandfather, to which I responded "Hoang Dai," not remembering what his middle name was (in Vietnam your name starts with your family name first). "Oh, you are Ve's (my mom's Vietnamese name) son, I see" he replied. Oh... what a small world. The four us, Mrs. Hong, Mr. Van, me, and our driver talked about many things on that ride over. After explaining my reasons for coming to Vietnam, we then talked about how I ended up in America. I told them the history of my father, leaving at 17, and eventually going once again in 1991, with my mother, uncle, and many many other friends and relatives to search for refuge in Hong Kong. "You know Ben," said Mr. Van, "the French stopped sending aid to Vietnam right about that time where your father left." "The French sent aid for the refugees for over thirty years or so, right up until the point where you say your family made it to the camp" he continued. We talked further about the past, talking about the reasons for leaving, and how lucky at that point my family was to make it to America. I did some research on the boat people and the refugees some months, learning that the specific year that I made it out with my family in 1994, was the result of an agreement made by the U.S. government to accept more people into the United States from Vietnam. My line of debt already extends beyond dollars I cannot hope to ever pay it all back. I let them all know that, to which Mr. Van said, "you know, focus on school now, when you get to work, then you can worry about other people." He sounded a little like my father, urging me to stay focused on school. He did commend me on my philanthropy thus far, me telling him about many of the projects I involved myself in over the past years. We at last arrived at the house of Ms. Minh, which was decorated with a dining area outside, and a banner with the names of the two to be wedded.
In Vietnamese culture, it is common for the husband to first ask for permission from the family of the wife, called a "Le Dinh Hon." This occurs at the bride's house, joined by family members from both sides. Ms. Minh greeted us, wearing a beautiful crimson and golden Ao Dai, also wearing make up. She had a big smile on her face, and greeted all three of us, our taxi driver heading back to take other orders. The ceremony had not begun yet, as family members from the groom were still making there way over. I sat down in a meeting between Mr. Van, Mrs. Hong, and two family members of Ms. Minh. At first I sat away from the table, not wanting intrude on any business, but was invited to sit by the table, sipping some tea and joining in on the conversation. I didn't speak too much, focusing on listening and making sense of all the dialogue going past me. My Vietnamese is at the point where I can understand most of everyday talk, but speaking some of the words I rarely use is becoming a tiny struggle. They talked about the center first, and also the state of their lives, with work and children to worry about. What interested me the most about our dialogue was when we finally focused on the education system of Vietnam, compared with education in France and the United States. The two family members of Ms. Minh, one of them a professor at a medical university, let out his frustration with the current curriculum for high school students in Vietnam. "There are too many subjects, teaching is outdated, and too much emphasis is being put on cram schools to even stand a chance at being accepted to universities" he said. They asked me about how school was like in America, to which I kept honest and told them that it didn't nearly put as much emphasis on academics as Vietnam. "Students normally don't go to school from 7:00 AM to 7:00 PM starting from junior high or so, like students here," highlighting my knowledge of the after school programs that many of the high schools offer for students to study even more. Mr. Van agreed, saying that schools from France were also different, but offering more time after school for students to work more, but not to the same degree as Vietnam. "Its been great getting to see and meet you all," said Mr. Van, all of a sudden. "I have some important business to attend to at the moment and I wish you the best of luck with everything," he continued, getting up and making his way back towards the entrance of the house. I accompanied him with Mrs. Hong, and Ms. Minh, us four taking a group photo. He exchanged a few words with all of us, telling me that it was a pleasure to meet me and wishing me the best in my life. I waved goodbye to him as he got in his taxi, telling Ms. Minh the story behind my unknowing of the true residence of Mr. Van. This might be my last time seeing him in person, unless of course I take to time to visit him in France or something. "Ben, let's go visit this center for children over around the corner while we wait for the ceremony to start," said Mrs. Hong, beckoning me over to her.
The neighborhood was rather maze-like, houses linked to each other with tiny little pathways for motorbikes between around many bends and turns. Many of the neighbors were inside for the day, fearing perhaps of rain, seeing as how gray and dark clouds filled the sky. The center was right around the corner, and was called Trung Tam Son Ca, or the Son Ca Orphanage/Center. I recently did some research on their website (www.st-paul-hue.com) and learned that it was an all girls, catholic orphanage. Upon entering past the rusted metal gates, we were greeted by a beautiful view of the three tiered living quarters of the orphanage, a fountain in the middle, and children, numbering at around a hundred or so, playing on tricycles, bikes, and everything else. They were laughing and playing around, aged from around a year old, up to junior high age. They glanced at me and Mrs.Hong just ever so slightly as we passed by, and refocused on their playing. They were extremely shy, not responding to our questions in Vietnamese. They just stared. At last, we were greeted by one of the mothers of the children, informing us about the center, and showing us some of the new children. While Mrs. Hong and the mother talked about their respective centers I took some time to look around, taking pictures, and thinking about the amount of work and care it takes to erect a children's center like the one here. It looked beautiful, taken care of by international and local organizations. We met one of the newer girls, being pulled around by one of her sisters. She said nothing to us when we talked to her, but looked and smiled at us ever so slightly. Mrs. Hong exchanged some contact information, asking if there was a possibility for her to bring about five or six little girls over to the Children's Center in Thuy Xuan, where I am currently stationed. The mother agreed to let her know at another time, and we both waved the children off and headed out. "You know Ben, Phuong and Nga of our center are both sisters by blood, losing their father in the hospital due to insufficient funds to perform heart surgery" she said to me. "I saw both Phuong and her younger sister Nga in the hospital, both looking so poor and sad, and decided, with the permission of their mother, to take them into the center" she continued. I asked her about where their mother lived. "She lives far away in their home village, too sick and lacking of proper health to work and support them" she said. I saw Phuong and Ngas' mother come to the center a couple days ago, bringing Dung (pronounced Yoong), their younger brother over to the center. She actually ate with us for lunch, and stayed a night with Phuong. Perhaps I will ask them both more about this, and maybe not, as it may be tough for them to talk about it. Hearing this about Phuong and Nga truly touched my heart, striking me emotionally and also piquing my curiosity to learn more. We finally joined for the pre-wedding ceremony.
We both walked up to the 2nd floor of the house, noticing the two families engaging in a ritual of exchange in front of an altar, topped with incense. I met Ms. Minh's siblings, her brother and sister, who came back to see her. They spoke English, telling me a little about their family. When the ceremony completed we set off to eat lunch, the family members sitting together and enjoying each others' company. The groom was dressed in a black suit, walking around with Ms. Minh, and toasting each of the tables. I sat with Ms. Hong and the employees of the center, who had finally arrived. Eva, the french volunteer, asked me many questions about my feelings on the center and the progress with the children. I told her that I enjoyed the center, but wanted more work to do, perhaps with updating the website and doing other outreach to the community. She agreed, to my excitement, and we continued to talk about the effect of Vietnamese culture on our lives. Being raised in France, Eva told me of all things she missed, especially French cuisine, though it could be seen in Vietnamese cuisine in many ways. We ate a lot of food, being served a course of over eight dishes. We couldn't believe the amount, as it all just kept pouring in, despite our inability to finish even up to the fifth dish. It finally became time for us to leave, me having to get back to the center to head with my uncle to Da Nang.
I arrived to a sleepy center, stopping first at the Ngoc Lanh house to tell that them that I could not eat any more food. The children got up, hearing that I came back and swarmed me, asking me how my trip was, and asking me how long I was to leave for. I saw that Phuong's brother, Dung, was still here, wondering if their mother had took him to the center to live for good. My uncle came, coming into the house and signalling for me to go up and get ready. I waved the children goodbye and headed up to my room to pack. I packed rather lightly, bringing only my camera, some clothes,a book, sunglasses, and a little bit of money. The reason I was leaving so soon (12:45 PM instead of 4:00 PM) was because we had to catch a bus at 1:15 PM to Da Nang, my uncle's brother, Tien, expecting us around that time at his house. Uncle Tien worked in Hanoi, as a electrical engineer or something of the sort, and had not seen me for eleven years. Now he has a child, named Biu (nickname) or Bach, and has had a family for over eight years. This time was his week break from work and he decided that now was the time to see me. After finishing up, we hopped on the motorbike and headed off to the bus station.
After parking the bike in a safe spot, my uncle and I sat for about thirty minutes, enjoying some ice cool lemon tea, waiting for the bus to arrive. It began to rain, the other tourists and travelers huddling underneath the overhang of the station with all their belongings. At last the bus came, it was a lay-down, air conditioned bus (I don't know what these are called). When we last settled in, I decided to take a nap, thinking over the morning events.
It was a two hour ride, with a small break in-between. The tourists aboard were Vietnamese, French, English, and Australian, all talking and conversing amongst themselves on the bus. To be honest I have seen very very few American tourists to Vietnam thus far, which surprised just a little. Perhaps all of them are in Saigon? We at last pulled into Da Nang, the biggest port city in Vietnam. The scenery certainly was a far cry from Hue, sky scapers, large corporations, entertainment, and resorts all around. The city was also very clean, the beach visible from the roads, and advertisements everywhere. We called a taxi over to take us to Uncle Tien's house. He had a very tall house, five stories to be exact. In the house lived about six people, the Tien family (him, his wife, and his son), along with my three older cousins. No one was home at the time, but a woman selling food at a nearby restaurant noticed my Uncle Duyet and handed him the house key. I took a tour of the house, noticing the higher living standard that this household lived under, noticing beautiful bathrooms, living room, and decorations about. I was impressed. I set my things down and my uncle decided to take me to go and pick up Bach (pronounced Bet) from day school. My uncle tried to hide when we called for Bach. My, he was a big child, out sizing his peers in girth and height. "Who is he" he asked, staring at me and asking one of the employees of the day care. He eventually found my uncle hiding around the corner and ran to him. "Uncle Duyet!" he yelled, asking to be picked up and carried home. My uncle handed him to me to hold, taking photos and asking Bach questions. Bach had a huge vocabulary and was very energetic, singing and dancing while I held him. He was a bright little kid I must say, responding to every question I asked him. He is now four years old and has two years from primary school. We entered the house and my uncle gave him a gift of action figures. "Give me them!" he yelled upon seeing them. He jumped in excitement upon receiving them and opened them up to play. He called out their colors and told a little story about each of the four action figures. I played with him, talking and tickling him. His skin was pale, a big smile on his face the whole time. What a happy child.
His father finally returned, hugging me immensely and asking me how my trip was so far. It was great to see him, being so many years and so many phone calls in the past. He took us all out to dinner, eating at a seafood restaurant. Bach was the life of the place, singing and dancing, and attracting the attention of all the staff and the customers. We had a great meal, me getting to choose the different types of seafood, ranging from fish to snails. After the filling meal, my uncle Duyet drove me and Bach around the city to sight see. Wow. The lights were beautiful and the city was full of life. There were many super centers for everything, cars, electronics, everything. We decided to stop by the Big C super center, of which Da Nang's is much bigger than Hue's. It was packed, each of the five floors filled with shoppers. The Big C had everything, stores, arcades, a grocery supermarket, and much much more. We took Bach up to a children's play room, filled with a room full of colored plastic balls for children to plummet themselves into. After running around for a while, Bach finally stopped for the first time the whole day. He vomited. Everyone looked, the staff of the room panicking and telling the other children to stop. We cleaned up the mess and payed our fee for the event. Bach apparently was fine, still smiling, and wanting to play some more. We went up to the arcade and played some games, Bach showing us his reckless driving habits. When we at last finished our time at the Big C, we rode on home, to relax, and rest for the travels of tomorrow.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
#28 - Accidents
Accidents happen, and they did happen, not only to just one of the children, but to two, myself get involved in one of them. For the most part, this was a normal day, up until after my 2nd class of the day. So let's get this day started.
Following the good night's sleep, free from nightmares and unexpected guests, I got up at my usual seven o'clock wake-up time, freshening up and preparing my lessons for the morning class. It was a bright morning, I could see the children playing and resting around like usual, after their morning chores. I could definitely notice the increase in the number of children at the center, making it feel that much more populated. By this time, the children had gotten to know me rather well, even the students who had recently come back from their home villages. I told one of the sisters of the Anh Dao house that I would be eating with them the following week, by order of Mrs. Hong. She smiled and ran back with all her sisters, who were huddled up by the entrance of the their house talking and relaxing. My brothers from the Thanh Truc were all huddled up in their house, sitting around and relaxing, many of the older brothers with phones sitting around and texting or watching movies they downloaded onto their devices. The cell phone policy was that the child would have to be finished with high school in order to have one, which added up to about ten or so children in the center having them (and they were very much attached to them as well, noticing some of them using their phones late into the night, messaging friends and such). "Oh hey Ben!" said Hai and Manh, both sitting on one of the bottom beds, of one of the two bunks, in one of the rooms, of the house (very specific I know!). In their house, there was about five rooms, a storage room, a room for the mother, a bathroom, and a dining room. "So, did you get attacked by that ghosts last night?" they asked, poking at me. "Nope, I slept soundly" I said, calmly. "Oh... okay... well you just wait!" one of the brothers replied. I stuck around for a bit, sitting around and enjoying their company. The older brothers came in, asking me how I was in English and sitting down with us as well. Many of them had finished up their studies for the year and were awaiting the start of the next academic year in their universities, which is happening in around late August. "Ben, are you going swim moming this?" said one of the children. Oops... I forgot. I actually had to turn down the offer, though desperately wanting to go again. I said that I could not because Mr. Van, a benefactor of the center from France was going to be coming to Hue around either this day or the next, and I needed and wanted to see him. "That's too bad, but can I have your ticket for this one day?" said Van, one of the returning brothers who just recently confirmed that he's been accepted to both of the universities he applied to. "Yeah sure, here you go" I said, handing him my crumpled up ticket, that I have failed to take care of.
I still taught that morning, albeit to a smaller group. The morning class was for the university aged students, of which there were about three in the center at the time, the others either being busy, or off swimming. Many of the university students could understand my English, but just needed some help with their grammar and pronunciation, something that I could easily help them with. We spent most of the class going over pronunciation and had conversations with one another, about different song artists in America and listening to songs from my laptop. Many of the children, though liking some songs in English, told me that they preferred to listen to Vietnamese songs (with good reason since they can actually understand all the lyrics). I am still trying my best to supplement my classes with good listening opportunities whether it be songs or even movies. When my class ended at about ten, I waved off Ron and Yen, and headed back to my room to store away my things. I was a little tired, but still decided to go and visit Ron, Luat, and Than, the older brothers in my old house to catch up on things. Than was still sick and was laying in bed, telling me that the doctor says he still needs to take medicine and rest. Luat was running around the house, tending to chores, and moving things in and out of the house, by the command of his mother, Ms. Be (surrogate mother). Ron went back to reading his books on his phone, relaxing. Eventually all the children came back, noticing them come around the back of the garden where I ended up helping cut vegetables with Tam, Yen, Lan Anh, and Luat. They handed me a raw yam to much on, telling me that they were tasty. They were sweet and earthy, taking a while to chew. We munched on them for about twenty minutes, the children doing most of the talking. Luat was bragging about how he was the most clean of all the guys of their house, the girls saying otherwise of him. I decided to walk down to the younger childrens' houses to see how the returning children fared.
"Ben, did you get a stomachache?" said Luong, one of the younger boys. "No, I am fine at the moment" I replied, a little puzzled about what the commotion was about. "Oh, I see, because eight or so of the children have gotten stomachaches since yesterday, we think it is from the food we ate for the party" he replied. Oh, that definitely would be it, as I remembered that a couple brothers from the older boys house told me they had gone to the bathroom numerous times in the morning. I myself eventually had to go twice that day, maybe being a sign of me also catching the bug. "I couldn't swim, my stomach hurt so much" said Phe, another one of the small children. I decided to go around the houses after my lunch with the Ngoc Lanh house, and ask if anyone was feeling sick, and I soon became surprised at the reactions. It was the food, and many of the children were tired and dehydrated as a result of the stomachaches. I decided to leave and let them nap, I to deciding it was time to take a break for the day.
Waking up at around one, I got up and worked on my blog, uploading some photos online, and also surfing the web, reading up a little more on Vietnamese culture (despite being right in the middle of it). When I opened the door to go to my first class, the first thing that struck me was the intense heat and brightness of the whole center, nearly ignited my hair as I steadily marched over to the library to open it for my afternoon class, today with the junior high children. I decided to show the students a movie, us all deciding to watch Avatar, many of them knowing the movie or have already seen the movie dubbed in Vietnamese. So we watched the movie, joined by some of the primary school students coming up to see what all the noise from the room was. While they watched, I took some time to read up on my books, every now and then coming back to check up on where the movie was at, having already seen it. At around four thirty, we decided to pause the movie, heading back to the activities of the day. After setting my stuff back in my room, that was when the accidents began.
I decided to first visit the brothers at the bakery school, noticing a lot of commotion going on in their house. They were testing, and having an examination on producing some samples of the breads. I luckily came at a good time, getting to try free samples that they were baking. "We aren't selling these, we're actually going to give it to all the children at the center" one of the brothers said, handing me a baguette. I gladly accepted, standing there munching on the bread and looking at all their creations. They had baked a lot of types of breads, continually taking stuff out of the ovens and putting more stuff in, checking each and every creation for quality and recording points. One of the senior brothers, the current teacher to the students, told me all this information, also taking telling me the names of all the of creations. They made some fun shapes, some of animals, trees, and other objects. Some of the breads were also decorated with chocolate, which is becoming ever more popular with the Vietnamese people. I decided to take some breads down, followed by Leticia, the french director or something of the sort of the bakery school. She carried down something like twenty breads, me with about five in my hands, giving them to the mothers of each house. The children rushed at us, asking us to give us some, to which I handed huge baguettes for them to split up. However upon entering the Ngoc Lanh house, I was told that Man, one of the younger children, had broken his arm today while playing soccer, having fallen onto the ground and bracing himself on just one arm. After handing off the breads, I went over to the sisters' room, seeing Hac, Phuong, Hien, and Thuy, sitting in a circle, some of them with tears in their eyes. Phuong told me what had happened, and Thuy had told me that she was going to go to the hospital to check up on Man, who was being X-rayed and would receive his cast later that day. I sat with them for a bit, receiving some of their sadness, and trying to cheer them up, though I too eventually fell at a loss for words. I decided to leave them, going out to the open play area between the three houses for the younger children (two being occupied at the moment) and noticed many of the older children had come down. About thirty of us were there, playing, talking, and standing around, waiting for someone to initiate a game. I eventually decided to join them in their games, first starting with hide and seek.
I followed the younger boys, who told me they knew the best spot in the area, one with the "best safety in the center," coming from Chinh. Upon being spotted after ten minutes of sitting around, I ran to the entrance of the center, noticing that Chien, one of junior high children, sitting with Phuoc, Hien, and Luong. I decided to see what was up, as they were all huddled up together sitting on the gate. Phuoc was in tears. I instantly knew why. Phuoc was a recent child into the center, an only child, and having just joined for a few days. I knew he missed his mother, who was the only parent left of both his parents. His mother lived far away in his home village, not making enough and having the health to support Phuoc. I saw her the day she brought Phuoc to the center. I sat next to Phuoc, putting my arm around him. I said nothing. "Why don't you cheer him up?" said Luong. "Its better to let him weep, he's new, he needs some time to get used to living away from his family," I replied, patting him on the back. Hien, one of the older sisters was with him, holding him as well, trying to cheer him up. Eventually Hien walked Phuoc back to the house, leaving me, Chien, and Luong at the gate. Immediately after, Yen, Lan Anh, and Hieu come running by, hiding behind a banana tree near the entrance, running from Nga, the of Phuong by blood. "Ben you are out of the game, you ran to far away from the game area" they told me. "It wasn't on purpose, I was called over here, and I found Phuoc crying" I replied, starting to walk back towards the play area.
After returning to the play area, we decided to play a new game, one that I never have heard of, but the children regard it as the "Huuuuuuuuuu" game. Very interesting. "Just watch and you will understand" said Lan Anh, breaking up the large group of twenty children into two teams. The way the game worked was that there were two teams trying to snatch players from the other team over a line in the middle of the play area. The teams would take turns sending one person to cross the line and tag people. After tagging people the person would have to run back past to line, slipping past the hands of the people of the other team trying to s game immobilize them. The key part of this game, and the basis for its name, is that the person running into enemy territory has to maintain a constant "huuuuuuuuuuuuuuu" sound for the entire duration of their trip to the other side. By either running out of air or being seized by the other team, the player is jailed on the other side, waiting in hopes for a teammate to tag them so they can run back. The goal was to essentially jail the entire opposite team. And so we played, me eventually understanding the game and enjoying myself. It was back and forth, the children taunting one another and calling names. When it was my turn up to run to the other side, I had forgot that I had to hold my breath the whole time and was called out. This happened twice, as I once again forgot after tagging my three teammates jailed on the other side. Things went well for my side, as we ended up jailing all the players on the other team, save for three people.
It was the opposite team's turn to run someone in. I kept my eyes locked on the players, looking for would cross the line in order to immobilize them. We all got in a defensive position, keeping our hands out to grab the runner. Eventually someone rushed, Nga, yelling "huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu" running towards the my left side. I strafed sideways and eventually run towards her, my arms wide. I collided stopping her. Bang! My chin sharply struck right above the left eyebrow of Vung, one of the new girls to the center. She didn't cry, but was in definite pain. My face instantly flushed into concern. "Blood, blood, stop the game!" yelled Hieu, taking Vung up to the house and calling for help. "Oh no" I thought, shaking my head. Everyone stopped, and held their breath. Blood was seeping from a small cut on her head, coming out uncontrollably. I walked up to the house, watching the sisters applying cotton balls and antiseptic to the cut. I took a cotton ball and helped with the clean up, sweating like crazy at that point, many of the children noticing. "Its okay Ben, its just a small cut, its nothing serious," said one of the sisters, trying to calm the concerned look on my face. I did not respond. When at last one of the mothers called for Vung to go to her house, she walked off with a couple of her sisters. I apologized to her then, but was met without a reply. Some of my brothers joked at me, telling me now I would have to take Vung back to America and raise her, some of the girls laughing as well. I still remained silent. Mr. Hung, the gardener of the center came back from the hospital with Man's X-rays of his arm. Me and his sisters of the Ngoc Lanh house stood around the dinner table, all looking at the X-rays and commenting amongst ourselves. He had fractured both his radius and ulna of his left hand. He eventually came home a little bit later after I walked back up. He had a cast on, I was told, and was resting. I did finally break my silence during the talk about Man's X-rays with the sisters, telling them what I knew about fractures and also commenting a little bit on the accident with Vung. "You know, I may not be hurting physically, but emotional I am distraught right now" I told them, letting out a sigh. They tried to console, telling me it was nothing. Lan Anh tried to tell me that this meant that their house would get more milk and other treats as a result for Vung's injury. I still shook my head, deciding to sit a bit before walking up. Many children
followed me around that night, trying to get an idea of what was going on in my head. The accident occurred at around six or so. I did not return back to my room until nine.
For that three hours I had, I sat and talked. First with the younger children, then to the older girls, and finally with my brothers from my old house. Every one was trying to tell me that it was okay and that it was just an accident. I spent a lot of time trapped in thought, thinking over my unawareness of that moment, and in some sense, engaging in self deprecation. Eventually I released myself from my mental prison and got up, walking up to the director's house. I told her what happened, to which she told me that it was not a problem, and just an accident. Two of the brothers that I had not seen before returned home. They were about to go to France to study at a university. They were warmly greeted as I walked back with them to their house with the older brothers. The sisters greeted them and asked them a few questions about how they were doing, both of them living in their home villages, awaiting their journey to France in August. I did return to my room, but grabbed my items and decided to sleep over in the Thanh Truc house, my reasons being that I would be leaving the next day for Da Nang with my uncle and not see the children for three days. I played chess and talked with my brothers into the night, finishing a blog entry at around half past midnight. I grabbed my pillow and walked over to one of the rooms with all the brothers, nearly all of them asleep. I dropped my pillow on the ground and slept, absolving myself of the stress that plagued my mind a few hours ago.
Following the good night's sleep, free from nightmares and unexpected guests, I got up at my usual seven o'clock wake-up time, freshening up and preparing my lessons for the morning class. It was a bright morning, I could see the children playing and resting around like usual, after their morning chores. I could definitely notice the increase in the number of children at the center, making it feel that much more populated. By this time, the children had gotten to know me rather well, even the students who had recently come back from their home villages. I told one of the sisters of the Anh Dao house that I would be eating with them the following week, by order of Mrs. Hong. She smiled and ran back with all her sisters, who were huddled up by the entrance of the their house talking and relaxing. My brothers from the Thanh Truc were all huddled up in their house, sitting around and relaxing, many of the older brothers with phones sitting around and texting or watching movies they downloaded onto their devices. The cell phone policy was that the child would have to be finished with high school in order to have one, which added up to about ten or so children in the center having them (and they were very much attached to them as well, noticing some of them using their phones late into the night, messaging friends and such). "Oh hey Ben!" said Hai and Manh, both sitting on one of the bottom beds, of one of the two bunks, in one of the rooms, of the house (very specific I know!). In their house, there was about five rooms, a storage room, a room for the mother, a bathroom, and a dining room. "So, did you get attacked by that ghosts last night?" they asked, poking at me. "Nope, I slept soundly" I said, calmly. "Oh... okay... well you just wait!" one of the brothers replied. I stuck around for a bit, sitting around and enjoying their company. The older brothers came in, asking me how I was in English and sitting down with us as well. Many of them had finished up their studies for the year and were awaiting the start of the next academic year in their universities, which is happening in around late August. "Ben, are you going swim moming this?" said one of the children. Oops... I forgot. I actually had to turn down the offer, though desperately wanting to go again. I said that I could not because Mr. Van, a benefactor of the center from France was going to be coming to Hue around either this day or the next, and I needed and wanted to see him. "That's too bad, but can I have your ticket for this one day?" said Van, one of the returning brothers who just recently confirmed that he's been accepted to both of the universities he applied to. "Yeah sure, here you go" I said, handing him my crumpled up ticket, that I have failed to take care of.
I still taught that morning, albeit to a smaller group. The morning class was for the university aged students, of which there were about three in the center at the time, the others either being busy, or off swimming. Many of the university students could understand my English, but just needed some help with their grammar and pronunciation, something that I could easily help them with. We spent most of the class going over pronunciation and had conversations with one another, about different song artists in America and listening to songs from my laptop. Many of the children, though liking some songs in English, told me that they preferred to listen to Vietnamese songs (with good reason since they can actually understand all the lyrics). I am still trying my best to supplement my classes with good listening opportunities whether it be songs or even movies. When my class ended at about ten, I waved off Ron and Yen, and headed back to my room to store away my things. I was a little tired, but still decided to go and visit Ron, Luat, and Than, the older brothers in my old house to catch up on things. Than was still sick and was laying in bed, telling me that the doctor says he still needs to take medicine and rest. Luat was running around the house, tending to chores, and moving things in and out of the house, by the command of his mother, Ms. Be (surrogate mother). Ron went back to reading his books on his phone, relaxing. Eventually all the children came back, noticing them come around the back of the garden where I ended up helping cut vegetables with Tam, Yen, Lan Anh, and Luat. They handed me a raw yam to much on, telling me that they were tasty. They were sweet and earthy, taking a while to chew. We munched on them for about twenty minutes, the children doing most of the talking. Luat was bragging about how he was the most clean of all the guys of their house, the girls saying otherwise of him. I decided to walk down to the younger childrens' houses to see how the returning children fared.
"Ben, did you get a stomachache?" said Luong, one of the younger boys. "No, I am fine at the moment" I replied, a little puzzled about what the commotion was about. "Oh, I see, because eight or so of the children have gotten stomachaches since yesterday, we think it is from the food we ate for the party" he replied. Oh, that definitely would be it, as I remembered that a couple brothers from the older boys house told me they had gone to the bathroom numerous times in the morning. I myself eventually had to go twice that day, maybe being a sign of me also catching the bug. "I couldn't swim, my stomach hurt so much" said Phe, another one of the small children. I decided to go around the houses after my lunch with the Ngoc Lanh house, and ask if anyone was feeling sick, and I soon became surprised at the reactions. It was the food, and many of the children were tired and dehydrated as a result of the stomachaches. I decided to leave and let them nap, I to deciding it was time to take a break for the day.
Waking up at around one, I got up and worked on my blog, uploading some photos online, and also surfing the web, reading up a little more on Vietnamese culture (despite being right in the middle of it). When I opened the door to go to my first class, the first thing that struck me was the intense heat and brightness of the whole center, nearly ignited my hair as I steadily marched over to the library to open it for my afternoon class, today with the junior high children. I decided to show the students a movie, us all deciding to watch Avatar, many of them knowing the movie or have already seen the movie dubbed in Vietnamese. So we watched the movie, joined by some of the primary school students coming up to see what all the noise from the room was. While they watched, I took some time to read up on my books, every now and then coming back to check up on where the movie was at, having already seen it. At around four thirty, we decided to pause the movie, heading back to the activities of the day. After setting my stuff back in my room, that was when the accidents began.
I decided to first visit the brothers at the bakery school, noticing a lot of commotion going on in their house. They were testing, and having an examination on producing some samples of the breads. I luckily came at a good time, getting to try free samples that they were baking. "We aren't selling these, we're actually going to give it to all the children at the center" one of the brothers said, handing me a baguette. I gladly accepted, standing there munching on the bread and looking at all their creations. They had baked a lot of types of breads, continually taking stuff out of the ovens and putting more stuff in, checking each and every creation for quality and recording points. One of the senior brothers, the current teacher to the students, told me all this information, also taking telling me the names of all the of creations. They made some fun shapes, some of animals, trees, and other objects. Some of the breads were also decorated with chocolate, which is becoming ever more popular with the Vietnamese people. I decided to take some breads down, followed by Leticia, the french director or something of the sort of the bakery school. She carried down something like twenty breads, me with about five in my hands, giving them to the mothers of each house. The children rushed at us, asking us to give us some, to which I handed huge baguettes for them to split up. However upon entering the Ngoc Lanh house, I was told that Man, one of the younger children, had broken his arm today while playing soccer, having fallen onto the ground and bracing himself on just one arm. After handing off the breads, I went over to the sisters' room, seeing Hac, Phuong, Hien, and Thuy, sitting in a circle, some of them with tears in their eyes. Phuong told me what had happened, and Thuy had told me that she was going to go to the hospital to check up on Man, who was being X-rayed and would receive his cast later that day. I sat with them for a bit, receiving some of their sadness, and trying to cheer them up, though I too eventually fell at a loss for words. I decided to leave them, going out to the open play area between the three houses for the younger children (two being occupied at the moment) and noticed many of the older children had come down. About thirty of us were there, playing, talking, and standing around, waiting for someone to initiate a game. I eventually decided to join them in their games, first starting with hide and seek.
I followed the younger boys, who told me they knew the best spot in the area, one with the "best safety in the center," coming from Chinh. Upon being spotted after ten minutes of sitting around, I ran to the entrance of the center, noticing that Chien, one of junior high children, sitting with Phuoc, Hien, and Luong. I decided to see what was up, as they were all huddled up together sitting on the gate. Phuoc was in tears. I instantly knew why. Phuoc was a recent child into the center, an only child, and having just joined for a few days. I knew he missed his mother, who was the only parent left of both his parents. His mother lived far away in his home village, not making enough and having the health to support Phuoc. I saw her the day she brought Phuoc to the center. I sat next to Phuoc, putting my arm around him. I said nothing. "Why don't you cheer him up?" said Luong. "Its better to let him weep, he's new, he needs some time to get used to living away from his family," I replied, patting him on the back. Hien, one of the older sisters was with him, holding him as well, trying to cheer him up. Eventually Hien walked Phuoc back to the house, leaving me, Chien, and Luong at the gate. Immediately after, Yen, Lan Anh, and Hieu come running by, hiding behind a banana tree near the entrance, running from Nga, the of Phuong by blood. "Ben you are out of the game, you ran to far away from the game area" they told me. "It wasn't on purpose, I was called over here, and I found Phuoc crying" I replied, starting to walk back towards the play area.
After returning to the play area, we decided to play a new game, one that I never have heard of, but the children regard it as the "Huuuuuuuuuu" game. Very interesting. "Just watch and you will understand" said Lan Anh, breaking up the large group of twenty children into two teams. The way the game worked was that there were two teams trying to snatch players from the other team over a line in the middle of the play area. The teams would take turns sending one person to cross the line and tag people. After tagging people the person would have to run back past to line, slipping past the hands of the people of the other team trying to s game immobilize them. The key part of this game, and the basis for its name, is that the person running into enemy territory has to maintain a constant "huuuuuuuuuuuuuuu" sound for the entire duration of their trip to the other side. By either running out of air or being seized by the other team, the player is jailed on the other side, waiting in hopes for a teammate to tag them so they can run back. The goal was to essentially jail the entire opposite team. And so we played, me eventually understanding the game and enjoying myself. It was back and forth, the children taunting one another and calling names. When it was my turn up to run to the other side, I had forgot that I had to hold my breath the whole time and was called out. This happened twice, as I once again forgot after tagging my three teammates jailed on the other side. Things went well for my side, as we ended up jailing all the players on the other team, save for three people.
It was the opposite team's turn to run someone in. I kept my eyes locked on the players, looking for would cross the line in order to immobilize them. We all got in a defensive position, keeping our hands out to grab the runner. Eventually someone rushed, Nga, yelling "huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu" running towards the my left side. I strafed sideways and eventually run towards her, my arms wide. I collided stopping her. Bang! My chin sharply struck right above the left eyebrow of Vung, one of the new girls to the center. She didn't cry, but was in definite pain. My face instantly flushed into concern. "Blood, blood, stop the game!" yelled Hieu, taking Vung up to the house and calling for help. "Oh no" I thought, shaking my head. Everyone stopped, and held their breath. Blood was seeping from a small cut on her head, coming out uncontrollably. I walked up to the house, watching the sisters applying cotton balls and antiseptic to the cut. I took a cotton ball and helped with the clean up, sweating like crazy at that point, many of the children noticing. "Its okay Ben, its just a small cut, its nothing serious," said one of the sisters, trying to calm the concerned look on my face. I did not respond. When at last one of the mothers called for Vung to go to her house, she walked off with a couple of her sisters. I apologized to her then, but was met without a reply. Some of my brothers joked at me, telling me now I would have to take Vung back to America and raise her, some of the girls laughing as well. I still remained silent. Mr. Hung, the gardener of the center came back from the hospital with Man's X-rays of his arm. Me and his sisters of the Ngoc Lanh house stood around the dinner table, all looking at the X-rays and commenting amongst ourselves. He had fractured both his radius and ulna of his left hand. He eventually came home a little bit later after I walked back up. He had a cast on, I was told, and was resting. I did finally break my silence during the talk about Man's X-rays with the sisters, telling them what I knew about fractures and also commenting a little bit on the accident with Vung. "You know, I may not be hurting physically, but emotional I am distraught right now" I told them, letting out a sigh. They tried to console, telling me it was nothing. Lan Anh tried to tell me that this meant that their house would get more milk and other treats as a result for Vung's injury. I still shook my head, deciding to sit a bit before walking up. Many children
followed me around that night, trying to get an idea of what was going on in my head. The accident occurred at around six or so. I did not return back to my room until nine.
For that three hours I had, I sat and talked. First with the younger children, then to the older girls, and finally with my brothers from my old house. Every one was trying to tell me that it was okay and that it was just an accident. I spent a lot of time trapped in thought, thinking over my unawareness of that moment, and in some sense, engaging in self deprecation. Eventually I released myself from my mental prison and got up, walking up to the director's house. I told her what happened, to which she told me that it was not a problem, and just an accident. Two of the brothers that I had not seen before returned home. They were about to go to France to study at a university. They were warmly greeted as I walked back with them to their house with the older brothers. The sisters greeted them and asked them a few questions about how they were doing, both of them living in their home villages, awaiting their journey to France in August. I did return to my room, but grabbed my items and decided to sleep over in the Thanh Truc house, my reasons being that I would be leaving the next day for Da Nang with my uncle and not see the children for three days. I played chess and talked with my brothers into the night, finishing a blog entry at around half past midnight. I grabbed my pillow and walked over to one of the rooms with all the brothers, nearly all of them asleep. I dropped my pillow on the ground and slept, absolving myself of the stress that plagued my mind a few hours ago.
Friday, July 29, 2011
#27 - A Teary Send-off
The center was alive and crowded today. Many of the children had finally returned and we had all reunited with one another. The three new orphans had assimilated well, becoming instant friends and family members of the center. I learned a lot today, asking many many questions about the center and getting to know the children more than ever.
As I said in the last post, I slept well the last night, not suffering from any nightmares, other than some of the common bumps that occur in the night. Getting up at around six thirty, I freshened myself up, noticing that the red mark on my neck had faded (a good sign?), and then I went to hang up my wet laundry from the night before. I greeted my brothers and sisters sitting out near the entrance to their houses up near my room, chatting amongst themselves. They asked me if I saw anything last night. "Nope, nothing" I said, smiling at them. "Liar! Your room is haunted! I know it!" said one of them. Nearly all the students believe in ghosts, so I decided that this was the day to figure it out, but I saved all the questions for the night. Today was a big day for the students who had just taken the entrance examinations for their selected universities. These students included: Yen, Lan Anh, Van, Duy, Ly, and Tam. All of them were anxious and nervous about their scores, which basically decide whether or not they get accepted. I would not find out the results until lunch time.
My uncle showed up about thirty minutes later than he told, causing for us to eat a quick breakfast. We actually did not meet up with my aunt's family like we planned, as they had gone home or had been sleeping at this time. He took to a small outdoor restaurant, specializing in a dish called Ca Lau My, which was essentially a egg noodle soup with dumplings and meats. It was delicious, just like about everything else I've eaten thus far. Sometimes my brothers will ask me if I can eat this or that, and the answer is usually "yes, I've eaten that before." Being raised in a family that fed me primarily Vietnamese food my whole life, everything here was either normal or delicacies. Returning with about three minutes before class, I gathered my materials and headed off to teach the high school-aged children.
The class was much more populated than before, now that the children who ran off on vacation had returned. It was refreshing to see more faces in class, though, being two weeks without keeping in touch with the lessons, makes it rather difficult to allow the other students to catch up. Nevertheless, I started the class off with grammar and pronunciation, which lasted up to the first hour. The students from Quoc Hoc, the most prestigious high school in central Vietnam, joined us for the class, having just finished their testing and their summer break back at their home villages. They were quite the intelligent group of students, those three, Yen, Van, and Lan Anh. Van lived in the older boys house, while Yen and Lan Anh lived in the older girls house, named Anh Dao. What I learned today that surprised me was that these three students were actually not orphans, but students picked from the high school to live with the center, as the high school has a relationship with the center. Therefore, I was fooled by my lack of knowledge into thinking that one of the orphans had entered such a prestigious school. The three joined the center about three years ago or so, now full fledged members of the family that the center shelters. Helping with orphans or not, the center has definitely impressed me, showing me the broad range of people that it does support, and also the network that it has internationally and also to the community. After all, the center is known as a center for children. Anyways, the rest of the class after the first hour of drills focused on presentations from each of the students to the class, giving introductions in English to get to know one another. When I finally left the class, Yen, pronounced Ee-en, decided to join me on my walk back towards my room. "Today we can look up our test results for the universities that we applied to," she told, "but I don't want to, I'm too nervous about what the result might be." "Don't worry, you did fine, I already checked your English exam and you got over 94% correct" I said, trying to cheer her up (as I said in earlier post that she scored the third highest on the Baccalaureate exams in the whole city of Hue). ""We'll see" she said, and ran off back to her house to get ready to cook lunch for her sisters. She was one of the few children of the center able to speak to me fluently in English, a skill of which she attributes to one of her teachers at her high school. After dropping my stuff off, the time being around 10:30 AM or so, I walked over to meet and greet all the brothers at the Thanh Truc house.
They were all crowded in front of the computer, talking amongst each other, and pointing at the screen. What could they be doing? Oh, of course. Van, one of the Quoc Hoc students, had taken out the laptop of one of the older brothers, Than, and was looking up the test scores of all the students that had tested, including himself. I popped my head in and followed along. The way the testing works for university admission is that for each university in Vietnam, the students have to be tested in three different subjects, all specific to what career or academic field they wish to enter. For each test, they can score up to a maximum of 10 points, for a maximum of 30 points counting all three of the exams that they take per university. After counting the scores of the all the test takers, the university admits, top down, the highest scorers of the examinations, not taking into account high school GPAs, extracurriculars, or anything else - everything counts on just the test scores. I expressed to them my sadness over how difficult it was to enter universities in Vietnam, many of the students agreeing, but saying that it is the way it is, and they have no choice but to participate in the system. Out of the six, Van and Yen both were one hundred percent confident that they were admitted, Van being ranked the 57th highest scorer in his exam division, and Yen being ranked 2nd in her division, missing Valedictory status for college admission by just one point (she was asleep at the time we were looking at the test scores and she had not looked at her score yet). What I learned later on that day was that scholarships were only awarded to the top handful of students who scored the highest on the exams, while everyone else had to find other means to pay for college. Tam, Ly, Thuy, and Lan Anh were not sure, their scores being on the fence of admission after comparing their scores with last years scores of admission. Many of them were within a point or half a point of admission. I could feel their anxiety, Lan Anh even expressing some sadness and uncertainty over her score, especially because she decided to take her examinations in Saigon, instead of Hue, like the rest of her brothers and sisters. The official letters of acceptances will be mailed out within a month, and now is the waiting game. Quickly after, I went down to have my lunch with the Ngoc Lanh house, all of them waiting just for me to finally begin eating. It was a filling meal, and I stuck around to talk to the children. After about a half hour or so, I went back up to my room to nap and get ready for the next class.
The primary school children were up today, this time with an even bigger class. We had three new students show up, swelling the class to about eight children. We worked on pronunciation and vocabulary for most of the class, me trying my best to remember names, and also assess the English proficiency of the new students. During the break inbetween the two hours of class, Ni, the 2nd grader told me that her whole family was Laotian, and that her father left her family, and she had only her mother left, who decided to take her to the center and return to Laos with the rest of her family. Being Laotian, but being raised of the Vietnamese culture really intrigued me, so I actually looked up the situation between Laos and Vietnam on the internet, finding that there is actually a decent number of Laotian immigrants/descendants living in Vietnam. Ni just happens to be one of them. Upon finishing the class, I met up with Eva, of whom was walking back to the main office of the center. She told me that today there was going to be a party for Mrs. Tao, who recently got married, and this was her goodbye ceremony as well. "So who will replace her?" I asked, concerned. "We already have a mother ready, and she will come on Monday, with Mrs. Tao leaving on Sunday to join her husband" she replied in her French-English accent. I asked her the maximum number of children the center could hold, and she said that it could hold up to 60 children, but, due to the lack of a mother for one of houses, the current number is up to 45 children (not including the adults, baking school students, and staff). By this time, many of the children were setting up the common room, moving tables, cleaning, and preparing themselves by wearing their newly delivered clothes today.
I noticed a middle-aged man pushing a cart full of food up towards the center (a hill leads up to the common room, as well as all the rest of the buildings of the center past the first three houses for the younger children). I ran down and helped him push it up, seeing the strain in his face. By now, many of the students had started to head up, all except for the older brothers, who decided to go down and play a game of soccer, to which the victors would win ice cream. At last, all sixty five of us, about everyone in the center, plus a view invited guests, entered the common room, which at this point had been set up full of food for us.
At last it begun, all of sitting around our tables, eager to eat, but also share our feelings for Mrs. Tao, who had been a mother for the children at the center for over ten years. Mrs. Hong, the director of the center, started off with a speech, addressing Mrs. Tao and thanking her for her service for the center. Within five minutes into her speech, Mrs. Tao wailed and teared up, having to leave the room for a bit. Everything was quiet. We all felt it, sorrow and sadness over losing someone in the family, especially one of the mothers of the children. I too, despite not being a child of the center, felt the pain that Mrs. Tao was feeling, though at the time I didn't know what to say to her until I met her again later that night while I was playing with the children. When she finally reentered the room, Mrs. Hong continued the ceremony, summoning up all the houses to give their gifts, songs to sing for Mrs. Tao, and, speeches by some of the children about their feelings. Ron from the older boys house, Dao, who lives in the Phung Vi house that Mrs. Tao mothers, also went up, along with many others. They expressed messages of sadness, but also reminded us that the world was small and that we would meet one another again, and also that she would always be welcomed to the center to visit. One speech that really struck my heart came from Ni, the little Laotian seven year old, who I have seen is one of the closest children to Mrs. Tao, almost like her very own daughter. Ni walked up to the front of the room, a microphone in her hand. Mrs. Tao immediately took her eyes away from Ni, trying not to look at her as she spoke to her, fearing that she would burst out crying again. Ni spoke slowly, telling Mrs. Tao her love and how much she would miss her, and also to not be sad, and that she (Ni) would always love her. She ended her speech with "I love you mom," which silenced the whole room, which at that point had been feeling just as sad as Mrs. Tao. Mrs. Tao trembled, holding in her tears, as Ni walked past her back to her seat (Ni did not cry throughout the whole event). To stem the sadness, some of the brothers decided to volunteer to sing, erupting the room full of laughter, and the older sisters decided to sing a song in unison, dedicating it to Mrs. Tao. At last, Mrs. Hong invited us to begin eating, and we ate and conversed, talking over the day and enjoying one another's company. It had been a while since the center got together with everyone. Helping clean up and move back furniture, I spent the rest of the day getting to know the children, playing, talking, and even telling horror stories of my past encounters with ghosts.
While I sat in the play area between the houses of the younger children near the entrance of the center, I finally encountered Mrs. Tao, face-to-face. We talked for a short while, me expressing my thanks and sadness for her. I told that I too would probably be struck by emotions when I eventually leave the center, but for her, especially after ten years, the emotions must be describable. She asked me if we would ever be able to see each other again, also if I would visit the children again. "Of course, the world is small, and I do not forget the kindness and love given to me by people of whom I call family," I replied "Maybe in three years after I graduated from college, I will find my way back in Hue to see everyone." "Alright, thank you for all that you do Ben, stick around and play with the children" she said, waving me off, and entering her the Phung Vi house to join some of her children.
I had interesting conversations tonight with children, focused primarily on the topic of ghosts, to which all the children, minus about five individuals, believed in. Even the adults believed, as I was told. The mothers of the center have apparently encountered many over their years at the center. This conversation found its away all across the center, lasting up to two and a half hours of me expressing my disbelief in ghosts, and also talking about the events of the nightmarish night before. What was really interesting during these conversations was that Lan Anh, one of the sisters of the Anh Dao house (which is supposedly the most haunted house in the center) told me that the center was built upon a graveyard, the city of Hue donating the land to the AEVN to create a center for children. Wow. That may explain the chills and anxiety of the children when it comes to sleeping by themselves. "Tonight, a ghost will visit you, you just wait!" said Yen, declaring that because I said I didn't believe, the ghosts would become angry and me and try to attack me. "Okay, sure, we'll see" I replied. It was getting late, the stars filling the sky. It was at last time to go to back to my room and work.
Upon flicking off all the lights to sleep, I took a deep breath and sank into bed, thinking of the day and also happy thoughts (as if to shamelessly ward off evil entities). I slept soundly, nothing occurring out of the ordinary!
As I said in the last post, I slept well the last night, not suffering from any nightmares, other than some of the common bumps that occur in the night. Getting up at around six thirty, I freshened myself up, noticing that the red mark on my neck had faded (a good sign?), and then I went to hang up my wet laundry from the night before. I greeted my brothers and sisters sitting out near the entrance to their houses up near my room, chatting amongst themselves. They asked me if I saw anything last night. "Nope, nothing" I said, smiling at them. "Liar! Your room is haunted! I know it!" said one of them. Nearly all the students believe in ghosts, so I decided that this was the day to figure it out, but I saved all the questions for the night. Today was a big day for the students who had just taken the entrance examinations for their selected universities. These students included: Yen, Lan Anh, Van, Duy, Ly, and Tam. All of them were anxious and nervous about their scores, which basically decide whether or not they get accepted. I would not find out the results until lunch time.
My uncle showed up about thirty minutes later than he told, causing for us to eat a quick breakfast. We actually did not meet up with my aunt's family like we planned, as they had gone home or had been sleeping at this time. He took to a small outdoor restaurant, specializing in a dish called Ca Lau My, which was essentially a egg noodle soup with dumplings and meats. It was delicious, just like about everything else I've eaten thus far. Sometimes my brothers will ask me if I can eat this or that, and the answer is usually "yes, I've eaten that before." Being raised in a family that fed me primarily Vietnamese food my whole life, everything here was either normal or delicacies. Returning with about three minutes before class, I gathered my materials and headed off to teach the high school-aged children.
The class was much more populated than before, now that the children who ran off on vacation had returned. It was refreshing to see more faces in class, though, being two weeks without keeping in touch with the lessons, makes it rather difficult to allow the other students to catch up. Nevertheless, I started the class off with grammar and pronunciation, which lasted up to the first hour. The students from Quoc Hoc, the most prestigious high school in central Vietnam, joined us for the class, having just finished their testing and their summer break back at their home villages. They were quite the intelligent group of students, those three, Yen, Van, and Lan Anh. Van lived in the older boys house, while Yen and Lan Anh lived in the older girls house, named Anh Dao. What I learned today that surprised me was that these three students were actually not orphans, but students picked from the high school to live with the center, as the high school has a relationship with the center. Therefore, I was fooled by my lack of knowledge into thinking that one of the orphans had entered such a prestigious school. The three joined the center about three years ago or so, now full fledged members of the family that the center shelters. Helping with orphans or not, the center has definitely impressed me, showing me the broad range of people that it does support, and also the network that it has internationally and also to the community. After all, the center is known as a center for children. Anyways, the rest of the class after the first hour of drills focused on presentations from each of the students to the class, giving introductions in English to get to know one another. When I finally left the class, Yen, pronounced Ee-en, decided to join me on my walk back towards my room. "Today we can look up our test results for the universities that we applied to," she told, "but I don't want to, I'm too nervous about what the result might be." "Don't worry, you did fine, I already checked your English exam and you got over 94% correct" I said, trying to cheer her up (as I said in earlier post that she scored the third highest on the Baccalaureate exams in the whole city of Hue). ""We'll see" she said, and ran off back to her house to get ready to cook lunch for her sisters. She was one of the few children of the center able to speak to me fluently in English, a skill of which she attributes to one of her teachers at her high school. After dropping my stuff off, the time being around 10:30 AM or so, I walked over to meet and greet all the brothers at the Thanh Truc house.
They were all crowded in front of the computer, talking amongst each other, and pointing at the screen. What could they be doing? Oh, of course. Van, one of the Quoc Hoc students, had taken out the laptop of one of the older brothers, Than, and was looking up the test scores of all the students that had tested, including himself. I popped my head in and followed along. The way the testing works for university admission is that for each university in Vietnam, the students have to be tested in three different subjects, all specific to what career or academic field they wish to enter. For each test, they can score up to a maximum of 10 points, for a maximum of 30 points counting all three of the exams that they take per university. After counting the scores of the all the test takers, the university admits, top down, the highest scorers of the examinations, not taking into account high school GPAs, extracurriculars, or anything else - everything counts on just the test scores. I expressed to them my sadness over how difficult it was to enter universities in Vietnam, many of the students agreeing, but saying that it is the way it is, and they have no choice but to participate in the system. Out of the six, Van and Yen both were one hundred percent confident that they were admitted, Van being ranked the 57th highest scorer in his exam division, and Yen being ranked 2nd in her division, missing Valedictory status for college admission by just one point (she was asleep at the time we were looking at the test scores and she had not looked at her score yet). What I learned later on that day was that scholarships were only awarded to the top handful of students who scored the highest on the exams, while everyone else had to find other means to pay for college. Tam, Ly, Thuy, and Lan Anh were not sure, their scores being on the fence of admission after comparing their scores with last years scores of admission. Many of them were within a point or half a point of admission. I could feel their anxiety, Lan Anh even expressing some sadness and uncertainty over her score, especially because she decided to take her examinations in Saigon, instead of Hue, like the rest of her brothers and sisters. The official letters of acceptances will be mailed out within a month, and now is the waiting game. Quickly after, I went down to have my lunch with the Ngoc Lanh house, all of them waiting just for me to finally begin eating. It was a filling meal, and I stuck around to talk to the children. After about a half hour or so, I went back up to my room to nap and get ready for the next class.
The primary school children were up today, this time with an even bigger class. We had three new students show up, swelling the class to about eight children. We worked on pronunciation and vocabulary for most of the class, me trying my best to remember names, and also assess the English proficiency of the new students. During the break inbetween the two hours of class, Ni, the 2nd grader told me that her whole family was Laotian, and that her father left her family, and she had only her mother left, who decided to take her to the center and return to Laos with the rest of her family. Being Laotian, but being raised of the Vietnamese culture really intrigued me, so I actually looked up the situation between Laos and Vietnam on the internet, finding that there is actually a decent number of Laotian immigrants/descendants living in Vietnam. Ni just happens to be one of them. Upon finishing the class, I met up with Eva, of whom was walking back to the main office of the center. She told me that today there was going to be a party for Mrs. Tao, who recently got married, and this was her goodbye ceremony as well. "So who will replace her?" I asked, concerned. "We already have a mother ready, and she will come on Monday, with Mrs. Tao leaving on Sunday to join her husband" she replied in her French-English accent. I asked her the maximum number of children the center could hold, and she said that it could hold up to 60 children, but, due to the lack of a mother for one of houses, the current number is up to 45 children (not including the adults, baking school students, and staff). By this time, many of the children were setting up the common room, moving tables, cleaning, and preparing themselves by wearing their newly delivered clothes today.
I noticed a middle-aged man pushing a cart full of food up towards the center (a hill leads up to the common room, as well as all the rest of the buildings of the center past the first three houses for the younger children). I ran down and helped him push it up, seeing the strain in his face. By now, many of the students had started to head up, all except for the older brothers, who decided to go down and play a game of soccer, to which the victors would win ice cream. At last, all sixty five of us, about everyone in the center, plus a view invited guests, entered the common room, which at this point had been set up full of food for us.
At last it begun, all of sitting around our tables, eager to eat, but also share our feelings for Mrs. Tao, who had been a mother for the children at the center for over ten years. Mrs. Hong, the director of the center, started off with a speech, addressing Mrs. Tao and thanking her for her service for the center. Within five minutes into her speech, Mrs. Tao wailed and teared up, having to leave the room for a bit. Everything was quiet. We all felt it, sorrow and sadness over losing someone in the family, especially one of the mothers of the children. I too, despite not being a child of the center, felt the pain that Mrs. Tao was feeling, though at the time I didn't know what to say to her until I met her again later that night while I was playing with the children. When she finally reentered the room, Mrs. Hong continued the ceremony, summoning up all the houses to give their gifts, songs to sing for Mrs. Tao, and, speeches by some of the children about their feelings. Ron from the older boys house, Dao, who lives in the Phung Vi house that Mrs. Tao mothers, also went up, along with many others. They expressed messages of sadness, but also reminded us that the world was small and that we would meet one another again, and also that she would always be welcomed to the center to visit. One speech that really struck my heart came from Ni, the little Laotian seven year old, who I have seen is one of the closest children to Mrs. Tao, almost like her very own daughter. Ni walked up to the front of the room, a microphone in her hand. Mrs. Tao immediately took her eyes away from Ni, trying not to look at her as she spoke to her, fearing that she would burst out crying again. Ni spoke slowly, telling Mrs. Tao her love and how much she would miss her, and also to not be sad, and that she (Ni) would always love her. She ended her speech with "I love you mom," which silenced the whole room, which at that point had been feeling just as sad as Mrs. Tao. Mrs. Tao trembled, holding in her tears, as Ni walked past her back to her seat (Ni did not cry throughout the whole event). To stem the sadness, some of the brothers decided to volunteer to sing, erupting the room full of laughter, and the older sisters decided to sing a song in unison, dedicating it to Mrs. Tao. At last, Mrs. Hong invited us to begin eating, and we ate and conversed, talking over the day and enjoying one another's company. It had been a while since the center got together with everyone. Helping clean up and move back furniture, I spent the rest of the day getting to know the children, playing, talking, and even telling horror stories of my past encounters with ghosts.
While I sat in the play area between the houses of the younger children near the entrance of the center, I finally encountered Mrs. Tao, face-to-face. We talked for a short while, me expressing my thanks and sadness for her. I told that I too would probably be struck by emotions when I eventually leave the center, but for her, especially after ten years, the emotions must be describable. She asked me if we would ever be able to see each other again, also if I would visit the children again. "Of course, the world is small, and I do not forget the kindness and love given to me by people of whom I call family," I replied "Maybe in three years after I graduated from college, I will find my way back in Hue to see everyone." "Alright, thank you for all that you do Ben, stick around and play with the children" she said, waving me off, and entering her the Phung Vi house to join some of her children.
I had interesting conversations tonight with children, focused primarily on the topic of ghosts, to which all the children, minus about five individuals, believed in. Even the adults believed, as I was told. The mothers of the center have apparently encountered many over their years at the center. This conversation found its away all across the center, lasting up to two and a half hours of me expressing my disbelief in ghosts, and also talking about the events of the nightmarish night before. What was really interesting during these conversations was that Lan Anh, one of the sisters of the Anh Dao house (which is supposedly the most haunted house in the center) told me that the center was built upon a graveyard, the city of Hue donating the land to the AEVN to create a center for children. Wow. That may explain the chills and anxiety of the children when it comes to sleeping by themselves. "Tonight, a ghost will visit you, you just wait!" said Yen, declaring that because I said I didn't believe, the ghosts would become angry and me and try to attack me. "Okay, sure, we'll see" I replied. It was getting late, the stars filling the sky. It was at last time to go to back to my room and work.
Upon flicking off all the lights to sleep, I took a deep breath and sank into bed, thinking of the day and also happy thoughts (as if to shamelessly ward off evil entities). I slept soundly, nothing occurring out of the ordinary!
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
#26 - An Unexpected Guest...
Yesterday was a day full of reunion. From reuniting with the returning children to reuniting with some family members coming up to the center to see me, I spent much of day catching up with the times. Going back to the last entry, the night before this day is probably going to be one of my most memorable experiences - one that I definitely did not expect.
At around twelve or so in the morning, I decided to finally go to bed, tired and weary from the events of Monday. I did a sweep around my room, cleaning up trash and sweeping the room. I flipped off the main lights, and turned on my reading lap, hoping to get some more pages into my Vietnamese studying books. The room was quiet, only the sounds of the refrigerator, the air conditioning, and the flipping of pages could be heard. Outside, the pale light of the lightpole pierced through the yellow curtain of the window facing my bed. For some reason that I could not explain, I found myself colder than I had ever been, despite turning the air conditioning up to 24 degrees centigrade, my regular setting being 18 or 20. As I flicked the light off and got into a comfortable position to sleep, the nightmarish night soon started to begin.
The supernatural is something that I have found to be very strong with Vietnamese people in this area, many of them believing in ghosts, especially malicious ones that lurk during the night. All the younger children had told me of previous experiences with ghosts, telling me that, despite me not believing in them, that I would eventually see one. I told them that the only reason they were scared at night, and subsequently sleeping alone, was because they believed in ghosts. If they didn't believe in ghosts, they would have no reason to be scared. Perhaps I ate those words this night?
Right as I turned off the night lamp, three loud clinks could be heard coming from the lap, one after the other. That was rather odd, I thought, turning the other way in bed. Over the next three hours I heard and surprisingly felt it all. All of sudden, after closing my eyes and trying to fall asleep, a hard, rough smack hit my face, paralyzing my whole body. I opened my eyes, looking to my right, not noticing anything. That was odd. I decided to just lay there, taking the hits, smacks, and scratches of something I could not explain. "It's nothing, it's all in my head" I thought, laying there aimlessly for the next twenty minutes as it seemed. Eventually, I decided that it was enough and I was going to get up and turn on the lights to get a grip on myself, my heart pumping crazily at this point. What was this? My body was not responding, I was paralyzed to my bed. Eventually I heard a voice. It was the voice of one of my brothers yelling "leave Ben alone, let him get up!" How odd, I thought, no one else was in the room. That was when I realized what I was experiencing. A nightmare. My first one of the trip. Immediately I woke myself up, my whole body sweating. I jumped up out of bed, turned on the lamp, and went to the bathroom to wash my face off. I noticed on my neck a red marking that started to sting. Maybe a sign of something? I was thirsty and ran out of water. I opened the door of my room and walked over to the baking room, where my older brothers, at around two thirty in the morning, were already hard at work. "What's wrong? Did you see a ghost or something?" They asked laughing. "Uh... no, I'm just having trouble sleeping" I said, glancing away at them. Oh what is getting into me? I got my water and went back to my room. Flipping on the reading lamp near my bed, I decided to read a little bit more 'til I got tired. Luckily enough, I slept well through the rest of the four hours left that I had to sleep.
Today was a big day. Many of the children who had gone on summer break back to their home villages had returned, including my brothers Duy, Van, Ron, Luat, and Long from the Thanh Truc house. It was also a swimming day, many of the children excited and ready, seeing as how they had their stuff ready when I walked around the center in the morning to greet the children who returned. Today some of the older sisters decided to come swimming, growing our group to about twenty five swimmers or so. I grabbed four creations from the baking school, my brothers gladly giving me them, and went back to my room to prepare and also eat my breakfast. The stress from the nightmare during the night subsided, as I felt energized to enjoy another day with the children at the swimming center. When I told some of my brothers in the morning about the nightmare, they laughed at me and told me if I believed in ghosts now. "Not yet, I don't, and even if they exist, I will invite them to be my friends" I said in response. They all laughed at me and told me I was lying. I eventually learned much more about the supernatural element of the center the following day, but I will leave those discoveries for the next entry.
I was the first one to make it to the center, seeing as how my uncle took me by motorbike. They eventually all arrived, one after the other, with many new faces as well, those of the children who I had not yet seen go swimming with the main group. We were fifteen minutes early, causing us to have to wait outside in the blistering sun. Same routine once again. When we finally got to swimming, I spent much of my time trying to teach many of the children how to swim, especially swimming backwards. There was one instance where I had to save one of them from drowning, which definitely got my heart pumping as I rushed out to save them. Swimming was swimming. We played and had fun throughout that hour and a half period. Phoning my uncle that I was finished, my uncle rolled on into the site, taking me to go have lunch.
We had quite the lunch, my uncle Duyet once again taking me to one of his favorite restaurants in the area. He ordered meal after meal, from crab to hot pot, eventually totally a whopping twenty six dollars, which for two people, is a lot of food, especially in Vietnam. "Alright, I'm not eating for two more days" I told him on the ride back, jokingly. We did eat again that night, and just as much for dinner. He drove me back around twelve. As I entered the center, I noticed all the houses' doors shut and the curtains to the windows rolled down, signalling that the children were now taking their midday nap. I decided to as well, waving my uncle off, and falling into my bed. I napped well, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. With about an hour before my class, I read through my books, and surfed the web, eventually deciding a minute before class time to go and open the library.
Today's class in the afternoon was for the junior high students, as well as for the university students (but none showed up due to being busy, or having just arrived to the center). After going over vocabulary and grammar, I decided to introduce an assignment for them to introduce one another to the class. Seeing promising results from this lesson, I plan to use more opportunities to introduce topics for the students to talk about. After class ended, I got a phone call from my uncle Duyet, telling me that my Aunt Cam, her husband, and daughter were going to pick me up from the center to take me to go eat with them. I agreed, though hesitantly, as I had many activities planned to play, catch up, and get to know the children of the center. Nevertheless, I put my stuff back into my room and walked down to the houses near the entrance of the center to tell Ms. Lanh, the mother of the Ngoc Lanh house, that I was going to eat outside the center for dinner. "What a shame, we will try to save you some food for the night" she told me, the children of the house chastising me for leaving the center so often (which I have noticed for the last few days). I met up with Tuy, Hien, Hieu, and Hac, some of the sisters of the houses picking out vegetables to eat from the garden. We talked for a while as I waited to be picked up, about America, about my life, and about what I thought of the center. What I have noticed about the center is that everyone seems to have duties, the boys get their fair share of work, doing activities similar to the girls and vice-versa. Eventually my aunt called me and told me to take her and her family members for a tour. I agreed and took them around the center, eventually ending up at my room, where my aunt and cousin, My, decided to clean up my room and do my laundry for me, with me telling them not to the whole hour that they worked in my room. Eventually, we headed off to eat.
My uncle Duyet had gone back to the home village, having some business with a friend of his. However, my aunt called home and convinced him to come up to join us. The first place we ate at while waiting for Uncle Duyet was at a small restaurant called Quan 58, I think. We first had a bowl of beef porridge, or chao, rice seasoned with herbs and spices, and beef pieces of our liking. There we were, me, my aiunt Cam, uncle Than, and cousin My, chatting about my stay at the center. They had missed me, seeing as how I didn't return to the center the last weekend due to touring around Hue. Eventually, my uncle came, though not eating with us just yet. My aunt ordered another dish with a meat I found unrecognizable, as I ate the pieces, one by one. It was odd texture, not one that I recall ever tasting, and even more odd was that I could not even identify the piece of meat that I was eating. "No worries," I thought, "it's just food." Dung, pronounced yoong (D = Y sound in Vietnamese), My's husband joined us. He was an American just like me, who had recently exited the U.S. army, and came to Vietnam to visit My, pronounced Mee. My aunt told him to eat the rest of the plate of the mystery meat that I already hate half of. She giggled as she gave him the dish. Oh... Now I know what I just ate. After the first couple pieces, I could notice Dung's face turning a little puzzled over what the meat was. My uncle finally told him that it was meat from some of the 'special parts' of the cow, to which caused Dung to immediately stop eating and feel sick to his stomach. The rest of the night, my aunt teased Dung about it, him only smiling and looking away. How do I feel about it? It's no big deal, as I've eaten just about everything (well not everything, but a lot of different things), and can stomach about any texture of food. My uncle suggested we go to one of the most busy seafood restaurants to finish the night. We all agreed and rode off.
We ordered so many different dishes, one after the other, all by the hands of my uncle. At the end, we ordered around fourteen or so plates at the seafood restaurant, though surprisingly, its cost was cheaper than the meal me and my uncle had for lunch by around a dollar or so. My uncle told me to wake up early the next time so that we could all meet up again for breakfast, especially because my aunt and her family were to go back to the village the following day. After waving them off, me and my uncle rode back towards the center.
On the ride back, my uncle reminded me of how much my aunt's family cared about me, and how he is trying his best not only to allow me to try the delicious foods of Hue, but also getting to know all the family members and different life lessons he wants to bestow upon me. "There is one special lesson that I will not tell you until you leave back to America" he told, right before we pulled into the center. "Alright, sure, I'll look forward to it I told him" right before we stopped at the first house to tell Ms. Lanh, that I would not be able to take the food they saved for me, as I was stuffed. After catching up with the children for about ten minutes or so, I decided to head back to my room to relax and get a good night's rest (of which I did!).
At around twelve or so in the morning, I decided to finally go to bed, tired and weary from the events of Monday. I did a sweep around my room, cleaning up trash and sweeping the room. I flipped off the main lights, and turned on my reading lap, hoping to get some more pages into my Vietnamese studying books. The room was quiet, only the sounds of the refrigerator, the air conditioning, and the flipping of pages could be heard. Outside, the pale light of the lightpole pierced through the yellow curtain of the window facing my bed. For some reason that I could not explain, I found myself colder than I had ever been, despite turning the air conditioning up to 24 degrees centigrade, my regular setting being 18 or 20. As I flicked the light off and got into a comfortable position to sleep, the nightmarish night soon started to begin.
The supernatural is something that I have found to be very strong with Vietnamese people in this area, many of them believing in ghosts, especially malicious ones that lurk during the night. All the younger children had told me of previous experiences with ghosts, telling me that, despite me not believing in them, that I would eventually see one. I told them that the only reason they were scared at night, and subsequently sleeping alone, was because they believed in ghosts. If they didn't believe in ghosts, they would have no reason to be scared. Perhaps I ate those words this night?
Right as I turned off the night lamp, three loud clinks could be heard coming from the lap, one after the other. That was rather odd, I thought, turning the other way in bed. Over the next three hours I heard and surprisingly felt it all. All of sudden, after closing my eyes and trying to fall asleep, a hard, rough smack hit my face, paralyzing my whole body. I opened my eyes, looking to my right, not noticing anything. That was odd. I decided to just lay there, taking the hits, smacks, and scratches of something I could not explain. "It's nothing, it's all in my head" I thought, laying there aimlessly for the next twenty minutes as it seemed. Eventually, I decided that it was enough and I was going to get up and turn on the lights to get a grip on myself, my heart pumping crazily at this point. What was this? My body was not responding, I was paralyzed to my bed. Eventually I heard a voice. It was the voice of one of my brothers yelling "leave Ben alone, let him get up!" How odd, I thought, no one else was in the room. That was when I realized what I was experiencing. A nightmare. My first one of the trip. Immediately I woke myself up, my whole body sweating. I jumped up out of bed, turned on the lamp, and went to the bathroom to wash my face off. I noticed on my neck a red marking that started to sting. Maybe a sign of something? I was thirsty and ran out of water. I opened the door of my room and walked over to the baking room, where my older brothers, at around two thirty in the morning, were already hard at work. "What's wrong? Did you see a ghost or something?" They asked laughing. "Uh... no, I'm just having trouble sleeping" I said, glancing away at them. Oh what is getting into me? I got my water and went back to my room. Flipping on the reading lamp near my bed, I decided to read a little bit more 'til I got tired. Luckily enough, I slept well through the rest of the four hours left that I had to sleep.
Today was a big day. Many of the children who had gone on summer break back to their home villages had returned, including my brothers Duy, Van, Ron, Luat, and Long from the Thanh Truc house. It was also a swimming day, many of the children excited and ready, seeing as how they had their stuff ready when I walked around the center in the morning to greet the children who returned. Today some of the older sisters decided to come swimming, growing our group to about twenty five swimmers or so. I grabbed four creations from the baking school, my brothers gladly giving me them, and went back to my room to prepare and also eat my breakfast. The stress from the nightmare during the night subsided, as I felt energized to enjoy another day with the children at the swimming center. When I told some of my brothers in the morning about the nightmare, they laughed at me and told me if I believed in ghosts now. "Not yet, I don't, and even if they exist, I will invite them to be my friends" I said in response. They all laughed at me and told me I was lying. I eventually learned much more about the supernatural element of the center the following day, but I will leave those discoveries for the next entry.
I was the first one to make it to the center, seeing as how my uncle took me by motorbike. They eventually all arrived, one after the other, with many new faces as well, those of the children who I had not yet seen go swimming with the main group. We were fifteen minutes early, causing us to have to wait outside in the blistering sun. Same routine once again. When we finally got to swimming, I spent much of my time trying to teach many of the children how to swim, especially swimming backwards. There was one instance where I had to save one of them from drowning, which definitely got my heart pumping as I rushed out to save them. Swimming was swimming. We played and had fun throughout that hour and a half period. Phoning my uncle that I was finished, my uncle rolled on into the site, taking me to go have lunch.
We had quite the lunch, my uncle Duyet once again taking me to one of his favorite restaurants in the area. He ordered meal after meal, from crab to hot pot, eventually totally a whopping twenty six dollars, which for two people, is a lot of food, especially in Vietnam. "Alright, I'm not eating for two more days" I told him on the ride back, jokingly. We did eat again that night, and just as much for dinner. He drove me back around twelve. As I entered the center, I noticed all the houses' doors shut and the curtains to the windows rolled down, signalling that the children were now taking their midday nap. I decided to as well, waving my uncle off, and falling into my bed. I napped well, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. With about an hour before my class, I read through my books, and surfed the web, eventually deciding a minute before class time to go and open the library.
Today's class in the afternoon was for the junior high students, as well as for the university students (but none showed up due to being busy, or having just arrived to the center). After going over vocabulary and grammar, I decided to introduce an assignment for them to introduce one another to the class. Seeing promising results from this lesson, I plan to use more opportunities to introduce topics for the students to talk about. After class ended, I got a phone call from my uncle Duyet, telling me that my Aunt Cam, her husband, and daughter were going to pick me up from the center to take me to go eat with them. I agreed, though hesitantly, as I had many activities planned to play, catch up, and get to know the children of the center. Nevertheless, I put my stuff back into my room and walked down to the houses near the entrance of the center to tell Ms. Lanh, the mother of the Ngoc Lanh house, that I was going to eat outside the center for dinner. "What a shame, we will try to save you some food for the night" she told me, the children of the house chastising me for leaving the center so often (which I have noticed for the last few days). I met up with Tuy, Hien, Hieu, and Hac, some of the sisters of the houses picking out vegetables to eat from the garden. We talked for a while as I waited to be picked up, about America, about my life, and about what I thought of the center. What I have noticed about the center is that everyone seems to have duties, the boys get their fair share of work, doing activities similar to the girls and vice-versa. Eventually my aunt called me and told me to take her and her family members for a tour. I agreed and took them around the center, eventually ending up at my room, where my aunt and cousin, My, decided to clean up my room and do my laundry for me, with me telling them not to the whole hour that they worked in my room. Eventually, we headed off to eat.
My uncle Duyet had gone back to the home village, having some business with a friend of his. However, my aunt called home and convinced him to come up to join us. The first place we ate at while waiting for Uncle Duyet was at a small restaurant called Quan 58, I think. We first had a bowl of beef porridge, or chao, rice seasoned with herbs and spices, and beef pieces of our liking. There we were, me, my aiunt Cam, uncle Than, and cousin My, chatting about my stay at the center. They had missed me, seeing as how I didn't return to the center the last weekend due to touring around Hue. Eventually, my uncle came, though not eating with us just yet. My aunt ordered another dish with a meat I found unrecognizable, as I ate the pieces, one by one. It was odd texture, not one that I recall ever tasting, and even more odd was that I could not even identify the piece of meat that I was eating. "No worries," I thought, "it's just food." Dung, pronounced yoong (D = Y sound in Vietnamese), My's husband joined us. He was an American just like me, who had recently exited the U.S. army, and came to Vietnam to visit My, pronounced Mee. My aunt told him to eat the rest of the plate of the mystery meat that I already hate half of. She giggled as she gave him the dish. Oh... Now I know what I just ate. After the first couple pieces, I could notice Dung's face turning a little puzzled over what the meat was. My uncle finally told him that it was meat from some of the 'special parts' of the cow, to which caused Dung to immediately stop eating and feel sick to his stomach. The rest of the night, my aunt teased Dung about it, him only smiling and looking away. How do I feel about it? It's no big deal, as I've eaten just about everything (well not everything, but a lot of different things), and can stomach about any texture of food. My uncle suggested we go to one of the most busy seafood restaurants to finish the night. We all agreed and rode off.
We ordered so many different dishes, one after the other, all by the hands of my uncle. At the end, we ordered around fourteen or so plates at the seafood restaurant, though surprisingly, its cost was cheaper than the meal me and my uncle had for lunch by around a dollar or so. My uncle told me to wake up early the next time so that we could all meet up again for breakfast, especially because my aunt and her family were to go back to the village the following day. After waving them off, me and my uncle rode back towards the center.
On the ride back, my uncle reminded me of how much my aunt's family cared about me, and how he is trying his best not only to allow me to try the delicious foods of Hue, but also getting to know all the family members and different life lessons he wants to bestow upon me. "There is one special lesson that I will not tell you until you leave back to America" he told, right before we pulled into the center. "Alright, sure, I'll look forward to it I told him" right before we stopped at the first house to tell Ms. Lanh, that I would not be able to take the food they saved for me, as I was stuffed. After catching up with the children for about ten minutes or so, I decided to head back to my room to relax and get a good night's rest (of which I did!).
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
#25 - New Members of the Family!
Monday made for an exciting day. Following a week full of discovery and relaxation, I was at excited to finally get to work again. Sleeping a sound seven hours the night before, I woke rather easily, freshening up in the bathroom, and then prepping my lesson for the morning. I don't know what it was but, I had a bright outlook during the whole day. Though starving for breakfast, I decided instead to stay in and work, looking to stuff myself during lunch time, which for this week, was in a new house. This week I would being joining the Ngoc Lanh house down near the entrance of the center, where the younger children and a few of the older sisters live. They were all excited to have me eat with them for lunch and dinner, as they asked me throughout the weekend of who's house I was going to eat at. The first class of the week was the morning class for primary students. With that in mind, I packed up my things and went over to open the library.
"Where are all of them?" I asked myself, though already knowing the answer to it. Five minutes past the start of the class, I decided to walk down to their houses to ask them to come up, knowing that they might have been busy with other chores. Upon walking down the tiles to the two houses near the entrance the center, I see Chinh, who is about to enter sixth grade, digging in the dirt, asking me to tell his mother, Ms. Tao (who is soon to be Mrs. as she is marrying this week!), to allow him to keep playing. When I asked him what he was doing he said "I don't know, playing I guess?" I smiled and walked on over to the Phung Vi house, the other house near the front of the entrance, facing the Ngoc Lanh house that I was to be eating at this week. Upon walking near the steps up to the entrance of the house I found many of the children preparing vegetables for lunch, stripping leaves from stems and talking amongst themselves. Among them was Ni, a soon to be second grader. "Wait a little bit Brother Ben, I am a little busy at the moment" Ni said to me, in her quiet voice. I nodded and walked up the steps, looking for Man, the last of the children in the first class. He already had his notebook and pen ready, but was just waiting for Ni and Chinh to walk up with him. After about ten minutes and hanging around, I walked them up to the library to begin class, us being more than fifteen minutes late on schedule.
Teaching the primary school students was a bit more difficult than the others, being that I was exposing them to English lessons that they would either not learn or learn much later on in their schooling. After allowing them to organize the furniture in the library to their liking, we began first with review of the vocabulary I gave them in the last class. They happily remembered most of it, also singing the "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" song every time I pointed to one of the body parts for them to remember. Ni, being so young, has a more difficult time following with the lessons, but does try to pronounce everything I tell her to. She definitely knows what a knee is, as everyone reminded her that it was the pronounced the same as her name. "See look, Ni is here, right here, this is knee" she said, giggling. Chinh and Man, being rising sixth graders, had gone over a lot of vocabulary already, but just needed to work on their pronunciation. Sister Hieu, one of the younger sisters about to enter seventh grade, joined the class, looking for something to do with her morning. She sat with Ni, writing down notes for her, while participating with the class. Shortly after reviewing some other basic lessons, I decided to teach the students a page of vocabulary from one of my books, feeling that it was the right time to expand their vocabulary and eventually work our way to conversation. I decided to let them finish the first Harry Potter movie, due to the fact that I promised them the other day that I would let them finish it. The mere act of hearing English being spoken I know is helping them, and I worked me way through the rest of the movie with them in Vietnamese, helping them understand the story. When the movie finally ended, which was thirty minutes past the regular ending of the class, I headed back to my room, dropping off my things and walked on down to the Ngoc Lanh house to have lunch.
Oh I was starving! On my way down, Loi, one of my brothers from my first home at the center, told me that today we were going to have new orphans on the site. "My goodness! I must see them!" I thought, rushing down to the entrance. Right as I finished that thought, two motorcycles full of what looked to be relatives of the orphans, and two of them, both girls, arrived, asking me where the director's office was. I asked them to follow me, and so I ran up, showing them the way to Mrs. Hong's house. Eva, the french volunteer, met me along the way, letting me know about how the orphans found the site. "They probably found it through the television, and they called in yesterday, asking to join the center" she told me. How interesting! I didn't know very much about the process of being accepted into the center, so I followed Eva and the group into Mrs. Hong's house. Mrs. Hong decided to give them a tour, me following along and listening to the conversations between the relatives and the director. My brothers from the Thanh Truc house looked at us, while eating lunch, talking amongst themselves about the new children. We took them first to where they would be staying, the Anh Dao house, the house of the older girls. The two girls were in high school, and whose names I forget (I know shame on me!). Not all the girls from that house had returned yet, as many of them were going to come back the following day, along with many of the older brothers from my old house. We eventually took them down to the houses of the younger children, to get them acquainted. At last, lunch time!
One of the sisters ate at the house I ate at, and the other at the other house, along with Mrs. Hong. All the older sisters, Phuong, Hac, Hien, and Thuy, told me I had to eat fast to keep up with the boys of the house. And I ate fast, really fast. Seven bowls later, surprising everyone in the household, and a dessert later, I decided to hang around, getting to know some of the children in these houses, walking back and forth, and chatting to them. I joked with them that I wasn't full (and yes I was!) and that I could never be full, not even after eating one hundred bowls of rice. Eventually the third new orphan joined the site, whose name I do remember, Phuc. He was a middle school student, very bright, but a little shy. With time, I know these new students will open themselves up to their new family (to which they already are, after two days at the center!). With my stomach swelling due to all the food, I thanked my fellow brothers and sisters for the meal and walked back to my room, deciding to take a nap.
Despite being rather exhausted from all the food and fun, I could not seem to fall asleep, and so I instead got up after thirty minutes of lying around to surf the web and work on my lesson plan for my class for the below-average scoring students or Duy Kem. Out of all my classes that I teach, I feel that this particular class is getting the most out of my lessons, perhaps the size, being only three students at the moment, helping in this regard. From grammar to speaking, the students in this class are doing well, being inquisitive of every little rule they don't understand in my lessons. I made it clear to them that I would be focusing more on speaking from now on, which I had been wanting to do, but have been finding some trouble with deciding what balance I wanted to have with it. After a successful class, I walked outside the library, noticing that Ly, one of the older sisters, who also had just finished testing for universities, had returned. She told me that she would not know if she got in until a month from now, to which I replied "best of luck!" Sister Yen also returned, one of the brightest students in the whole area, scoring third on the baccalaureate exams at the end of the final year of high school and having an equivalent of an A+ average at school. She was one of the three students, her, sister Anh, and brother Van, who went to the high school known as Quoc Hoc, the most competitive high school in the whole country of Vietnam, producing alumni such as Ho Chi Minh himself. I read that it had about a ten percent admittance rate, accepting the best of the best in Hue and nearby provinces. I was very impressed by these students, providing great examples for their peers, and future public servants to their country and the world. Yen told me that tomorrow at around the afternoon, the majority of the children would be returning. I couldn't wait to see the center fill up again!
The remainder of this day composed of playing with the younger children near the entrance of the center, helping around with some chores in the garden, and getting to know some of the older children that I had not had the chance to get to know. Tomorrow (today) was to be a swim day, so I decided to head back to my room at around ten, working and reading until I fell asleep. That was a rough night... (more to follow in my next entry)
"Where are all of them?" I asked myself, though already knowing the answer to it. Five minutes past the start of the class, I decided to walk down to their houses to ask them to come up, knowing that they might have been busy with other chores. Upon walking down the tiles to the two houses near the entrance the center, I see Chinh, who is about to enter sixth grade, digging in the dirt, asking me to tell his mother, Ms. Tao (who is soon to be Mrs. as she is marrying this week!), to allow him to keep playing. When I asked him what he was doing he said "I don't know, playing I guess?" I smiled and walked on over to the Phung Vi house, the other house near the front of the entrance, facing the Ngoc Lanh house that I was to be eating at this week. Upon walking near the steps up to the entrance of the house I found many of the children preparing vegetables for lunch, stripping leaves from stems and talking amongst themselves. Among them was Ni, a soon to be second grader. "Wait a little bit Brother Ben, I am a little busy at the moment" Ni said to me, in her quiet voice. I nodded and walked up the steps, looking for Man, the last of the children in the first class. He already had his notebook and pen ready, but was just waiting for Ni and Chinh to walk up with him. After about ten minutes and hanging around, I walked them up to the library to begin class, us being more than fifteen minutes late on schedule.
Teaching the primary school students was a bit more difficult than the others, being that I was exposing them to English lessons that they would either not learn or learn much later on in their schooling. After allowing them to organize the furniture in the library to their liking, we began first with review of the vocabulary I gave them in the last class. They happily remembered most of it, also singing the "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" song every time I pointed to one of the body parts for them to remember. Ni, being so young, has a more difficult time following with the lessons, but does try to pronounce everything I tell her to. She definitely knows what a knee is, as everyone reminded her that it was the pronounced the same as her name. "See look, Ni is here, right here, this is knee" she said, giggling. Chinh and Man, being rising sixth graders, had gone over a lot of vocabulary already, but just needed to work on their pronunciation. Sister Hieu, one of the younger sisters about to enter seventh grade, joined the class, looking for something to do with her morning. She sat with Ni, writing down notes for her, while participating with the class. Shortly after reviewing some other basic lessons, I decided to teach the students a page of vocabulary from one of my books, feeling that it was the right time to expand their vocabulary and eventually work our way to conversation. I decided to let them finish the first Harry Potter movie, due to the fact that I promised them the other day that I would let them finish it. The mere act of hearing English being spoken I know is helping them, and I worked me way through the rest of the movie with them in Vietnamese, helping them understand the story. When the movie finally ended, which was thirty minutes past the regular ending of the class, I headed back to my room, dropping off my things and walked on down to the Ngoc Lanh house to have lunch.
Oh I was starving! On my way down, Loi, one of my brothers from my first home at the center, told me that today we were going to have new orphans on the site. "My goodness! I must see them!" I thought, rushing down to the entrance. Right as I finished that thought, two motorcycles full of what looked to be relatives of the orphans, and two of them, both girls, arrived, asking me where the director's office was. I asked them to follow me, and so I ran up, showing them the way to Mrs. Hong's house. Eva, the french volunteer, met me along the way, letting me know about how the orphans found the site. "They probably found it through the television, and they called in yesterday, asking to join the center" she told me. How interesting! I didn't know very much about the process of being accepted into the center, so I followed Eva and the group into Mrs. Hong's house. Mrs. Hong decided to give them a tour, me following along and listening to the conversations between the relatives and the director. My brothers from the Thanh Truc house looked at us, while eating lunch, talking amongst themselves about the new children. We took them first to where they would be staying, the Anh Dao house, the house of the older girls. The two girls were in high school, and whose names I forget (I know shame on me!). Not all the girls from that house had returned yet, as many of them were going to come back the following day, along with many of the older brothers from my old house. We eventually took them down to the houses of the younger children, to get them acquainted. At last, lunch time!
One of the sisters ate at the house I ate at, and the other at the other house, along with Mrs. Hong. All the older sisters, Phuong, Hac, Hien, and Thuy, told me I had to eat fast to keep up with the boys of the house. And I ate fast, really fast. Seven bowls later, surprising everyone in the household, and a dessert later, I decided to hang around, getting to know some of the children in these houses, walking back and forth, and chatting to them. I joked with them that I wasn't full (and yes I was!) and that I could never be full, not even after eating one hundred bowls of rice. Eventually the third new orphan joined the site, whose name I do remember, Phuc. He was a middle school student, very bright, but a little shy. With time, I know these new students will open themselves up to their new family (to which they already are, after two days at the center!). With my stomach swelling due to all the food, I thanked my fellow brothers and sisters for the meal and walked back to my room, deciding to take a nap.
Despite being rather exhausted from all the food and fun, I could not seem to fall asleep, and so I instead got up after thirty minutes of lying around to surf the web and work on my lesson plan for my class for the below-average scoring students or Duy Kem. Out of all my classes that I teach, I feel that this particular class is getting the most out of my lessons, perhaps the size, being only three students at the moment, helping in this regard. From grammar to speaking, the students in this class are doing well, being inquisitive of every little rule they don't understand in my lessons. I made it clear to them that I would be focusing more on speaking from now on, which I had been wanting to do, but have been finding some trouble with deciding what balance I wanted to have with it. After a successful class, I walked outside the library, noticing that Ly, one of the older sisters, who also had just finished testing for universities, had returned. She told me that she would not know if she got in until a month from now, to which I replied "best of luck!" Sister Yen also returned, one of the brightest students in the whole area, scoring third on the baccalaureate exams at the end of the final year of high school and having an equivalent of an A+ average at school. She was one of the three students, her, sister Anh, and brother Van, who went to the high school known as Quoc Hoc, the most competitive high school in the whole country of Vietnam, producing alumni such as Ho Chi Minh himself. I read that it had about a ten percent admittance rate, accepting the best of the best in Hue and nearby provinces. I was very impressed by these students, providing great examples for their peers, and future public servants to their country and the world. Yen told me that tomorrow at around the afternoon, the majority of the children would be returning. I couldn't wait to see the center fill up again!
The remainder of this day composed of playing with the younger children near the entrance of the center, helping around with some chores in the garden, and getting to know some of the older children that I had not had the chance to get to know. Tomorrow (today) was to be a swim day, so I decided to head back to my room at around ten, working and reading until I fell asleep. That was a rough night... (more to follow in my next entry)
#24 - So Many Cafes...
Oh I was tired that morning. After all the walking from the day before, I decided to stay in bed until about eight o'clock. My uncle was planning to take me to meet his girlfriend and one of her friends at the Sapphire Cafe, a beautiful cafe about twenty minutes away from the center. After leaving my house with all my things, I saw my brothers climbing the banana tree behind their house, bringing down banana leaves and hordes of bananas, to which they told me not to tell their surrogate mother, Ms. Be. "Here Ben take two," said Loi, putting his finger of his mouth and whispering, as if to tell me to be quiet about it. I accepted and kept on of them in my small black bag on my back, the other I decided to eat. My brothers from the baking school had finished their morning shift were relaxing in the living room of their home, watching TV and eating some left over breads. The center was quiet, all the children finishing their chores and sitting around, playing with one another. The days have finally gotten sunny and bright, bringing black the beautiful glow to the land, but also making me have to bring a hat around everywhere. At last, Uncle Duyet showed up, and I hopped on his motorbike, heading off to have breakfast.
"What do you want to eat?" he asked, "whatever you want, I'll take you to eat." After failing to come up with anything, as I told him that anything was fine, he made the decision to take us to go eat pho, pronounced fuh, one of components of my blood. Pho is a national food, composing of a rich broth, noodles, different greens, toppings, and meats ranging from beef, chicken, to sausages. Its up there with my most favorite foods, as it can cure just about anything - that broth making a bowl of pho worth all trouble. After bowl of pho and bottle of tra xanh khong do or organic lemon flavored green tea, which I have began to grown an addiction to, I decided I was full and said to my uncle to move us on over the cafe.
Wow, Hue has so many cafes, to the point of which there can be more than eight cafes in the same alley, making me wonder once again how people can make their livings. The Sapphire Cafe was the most populated in the particular alley that we rolled up into, filled with people sitting out on the front porch sipping their drinks and enjoying the cool fountains and fans. I asked for an avocado smoothie, while my uncle ordered a glass of coffee. About five minutes later, chatting about the last day of adventure, our drinks came in, shortly followed by my Uncle's girlfriend and her friend, Dien, who I remember the name of as she added me on Facebook! What I may not have mentioned before is that Vietnam recently locked Facebook throughout the whole country, causing many of the current users to find different methods of entering the site. What a conversation we had.
They all wanted to practice their English, so I asked them to introduce themselves, suggesting a few topics and listening carefully to their pronunciation. Both my uncle's girlfriend, and Dien were university students, one in Foreign Languages, and I forget the other one. My uncle is in his third year at the Hue University of Economics. I was impressed, their sentences and grammar quite good. The only problem, and perhaps the hardest thing to teach in English, is speaking it, and the pronunciation of all the words. It is true that different dialects exist, but there still exists an issue with incorrect pronunciation among nearly all the English learning students in Vietnam that I have know. "Slow down Ben, you speak too fast" my uncle told me, as I was introducing myself. "Al....right... I... will... now" I said, laughing a bit. We all laughed and continued to enjoy our drinks, both Diem and my uncle's girlfriend ordering coffee with condensed milk, one of my favorites.
As the time went by, more and more people entered the cafe. At one point, about four or five people, riding on expensive motorcycles rolled by, as if to show off their rides, as everyone in the cafe starred out at them, gossiping amongst themselves. "What are they doing?" I asked. "Just playing around, they are rich, those motorcycles are expensive, especially with the trade tariffs attached to the price tag" my uncle replied, glancing at them, and then back at us. We later decided to have lunch at my uncle's girlfriends house, allowing for us to talk even more. I gladly accepted and we rode off as a group.
In the house lived seven people, different relatives and their children. I went upstairs and was shown the computer, so that I could catch up on my blog (being about three days since I wrote an entry at that point.). While I typed away, my uncle went off to buy ingredients for our lunch. An hour and a half later, I was called down to enjoy a beautiful spread of soup and stir fried chicken. I spoke in Vietnamese during lunch, talking about my family, my life, and my feelings about Vietnam. My uncle told jokes, working on his English as he spoke to us, and having fun. After filling myself up, I decided it was time to get back to the center and get to work on my lesson plans and other homework I had in mind. My uncle agreed and we set off, saying goodbye to Diem and my uncle's girlfriend.
Upon returning, my brothers greeted me, telling me how boring it was without them and sad they were without me. "On Tuesday, many of the children who went back to their home villages are returning" said one of the brothers. How exciting! I could not wait to see them back again (which is today!). After setting my things off, I made around at all the homes, greeting the children and playing a little bit of soccer, while chatting with some of the older children washing their clothes and hanging around. Today was a rather light day on adventure and fun, as I spent the majority of the day in my room, prepping and working. There was one excursion, where the Hong family invited me and many other family friends to a party. This party was for Ua's university acceptance, which they recently heard about. It was quite the spread, and quite the conversation that I had with all the guests. My uncle joined us for this as well. I decided to go to bed a little late, trying to get out more readings in my Vietnamese lesson books.
"What do you want to eat?" he asked, "whatever you want, I'll take you to eat." After failing to come up with anything, as I told him that anything was fine, he made the decision to take us to go eat pho, pronounced fuh, one of components of my blood. Pho is a national food, composing of a rich broth, noodles, different greens, toppings, and meats ranging from beef, chicken, to sausages. Its up there with my most favorite foods, as it can cure just about anything - that broth making a bowl of pho worth all trouble. After bowl of pho and bottle of tra xanh khong do or organic lemon flavored green tea, which I have began to grown an addiction to, I decided I was full and said to my uncle to move us on over the cafe.
Wow, Hue has so many cafes, to the point of which there can be more than eight cafes in the same alley, making me wonder once again how people can make their livings. The Sapphire Cafe was the most populated in the particular alley that we rolled up into, filled with people sitting out on the front porch sipping their drinks and enjoying the cool fountains and fans. I asked for an avocado smoothie, while my uncle ordered a glass of coffee. About five minutes later, chatting about the last day of adventure, our drinks came in, shortly followed by my Uncle's girlfriend and her friend, Dien, who I remember the name of as she added me on Facebook! What I may not have mentioned before is that Vietnam recently locked Facebook throughout the whole country, causing many of the current users to find different methods of entering the site. What a conversation we had.
They all wanted to practice their English, so I asked them to introduce themselves, suggesting a few topics and listening carefully to their pronunciation. Both my uncle's girlfriend, and Dien were university students, one in Foreign Languages, and I forget the other one. My uncle is in his third year at the Hue University of Economics. I was impressed, their sentences and grammar quite good. The only problem, and perhaps the hardest thing to teach in English, is speaking it, and the pronunciation of all the words. It is true that different dialects exist, but there still exists an issue with incorrect pronunciation among nearly all the English learning students in Vietnam that I have know. "Slow down Ben, you speak too fast" my uncle told me, as I was introducing myself. "Al....right... I... will... now" I said, laughing a bit. We all laughed and continued to enjoy our drinks, both Diem and my uncle's girlfriend ordering coffee with condensed milk, one of my favorites.
As the time went by, more and more people entered the cafe. At one point, about four or five people, riding on expensive motorcycles rolled by, as if to show off their rides, as everyone in the cafe starred out at them, gossiping amongst themselves. "What are they doing?" I asked. "Just playing around, they are rich, those motorcycles are expensive, especially with the trade tariffs attached to the price tag" my uncle replied, glancing at them, and then back at us. We later decided to have lunch at my uncle's girlfriends house, allowing for us to talk even more. I gladly accepted and we rode off as a group.
In the house lived seven people, different relatives and their children. I went upstairs and was shown the computer, so that I could catch up on my blog (being about three days since I wrote an entry at that point.). While I typed away, my uncle went off to buy ingredients for our lunch. An hour and a half later, I was called down to enjoy a beautiful spread of soup and stir fried chicken. I spoke in Vietnamese during lunch, talking about my family, my life, and my feelings about Vietnam. My uncle told jokes, working on his English as he spoke to us, and having fun. After filling myself up, I decided it was time to get back to the center and get to work on my lesson plans and other homework I had in mind. My uncle agreed and we set off, saying goodbye to Diem and my uncle's girlfriend.
Upon returning, my brothers greeted me, telling me how boring it was without them and sad they were without me. "On Tuesday, many of the children who went back to their home villages are returning" said one of the brothers. How exciting! I could not wait to see them back again (which is today!). After setting my things off, I made around at all the homes, greeting the children and playing a little bit of soccer, while chatting with some of the older children washing their clothes and hanging around. Today was a rather light day on adventure and fun, as I spent the majority of the day in my room, prepping and working. There was one excursion, where the Hong family invited me and many other family friends to a party. This party was for Ua's university acceptance, which they recently heard about. It was quite the spread, and quite the conversation that I had with all the guests. My uncle joined us for this as well. I decided to go to bed a little late, trying to get out more readings in my Vietnamese lesson books.
Monday, July 25, 2011
#23 - Việt kiều - Overseas Vietnamese
Last Saturday was quite the adventure. Amidst all the fun and excitement of exploring the city of Hue, it also got me thinking about what it means to be Việt kiều, an overseas Vietnamese, as a elder monk living in a monastery near the Thien Mu pagoda delivered this phrase towards some other Vietnamese visitors to the site, saying that he could easily tell whether or not a Vietnamese was from the mainland or outside. From that moment on, as I rode down the Huong River, staring out the beautiful landscape of Vietnam, I have had this phrase on my mind.
Being a Saturday, I decided to wake up late, sleeping a healthy eight hours during the night. Upon waking up, I prepped myself for the travels of today, as my uncle intended on taking me to popular tourist destinations in the area. At around seven o'clock, my uncle Duyet showed up. What I almost forgot to mention (recalling three days ago) is that I went swimming with the children this day! This was the third time of the week and we plan to go every other day during the week to the same swimming center. My uncle stayed at the center until he was to take me over to the swimming center to meet all the children that had decided to go, about twenty of us or so. One brother, Than, had recently gotten sick and was unable to go. at around eight, I arrived at the center, waving at all the children who were waiting for me. Our swimming time was between eight thirty to ten, so we had to wait outside in hot sun. While we sat near the entrancec of the center, we joked with one another, the children teaching me funny sayings in Vietnamese and poking fun at me. At last our time arrived and we all sprinted in, excited for another day of swimming during the summer.
Thirst. It hit me very hard. Having not dranken any water in the morning made swimming today much much more difficult. Upon telling the children, I was told by some of them to drink the water in the swimming pool, followed by jeers and laughter. No worries, I stuck it through and still had a blast. And so we swam for that hour and a half, getting lessons from our swimming teacher, splashing and playing games in the water. Nhi, the cute 2nd grader of the center (also the 2nd youngest), asked me to take her around the pool, her sitting in a floatee. And so I did, taking her around, teaching her how to kick her feet and swim. My brothers from the Thanh Truc were racing each other around the pool, encouraging me eventually to join them. At last, our swim teacher called us up, blowing his whistle. I swam one more lap in the pool, and ran down to wash off in the showers. Boom! "Ouch, look at his head, its bleeding!" yelled one of the brothers. Bao had slipped and hit his head on the tiled floor, after trying to slide on it like some of the younger children. Blood seeped out of his head, his face in a wide grimace, as the pain flushed through his body. We all surrounded him, making sure he was okay, and allowed him to wash off and change for the ride back. He eventually ended up fine, sleeping well when he got back home. "I'm never doing that again" he told me, laughing as he put on his cap before getting on his bike to bike home.
My uncle picked me up shortly after, taking me back to the center to shower and change, and then took off to each lunch with him at one of his favorite restaurants. What a filling meal, and cheap too, being at around seven dollars for two people, five different dishes and drinks as well. At last, we headed off to the Imperial City, the citadel of the Nguyen emperors in Hue, the place where we had gone before but left due to insufficient time to explore the whole complex. The time was around twelve thirty or so, hot and bright outside. The citadel was enormous, surrounded by a mote, and many other monuments around it. Tourists from around the world and the country of Vietnam flooded in waves to the citadel. Parking our motorbike in the parking area, we walked over to the entrance, mesmerized by the architecture and mystified by the history of the citadel. It was damaged in the front, due to fighting during the Vietnam War, damaging some of the walls in the front. However, the majority of the site remained in rather good condition, as rebuilding occurs frequently, as I was told by my uncles. Our first stop was to buy our tickets, which was in the right side of the entrance, a location used for Vietnamese citizens. Since I looked and spoke the language fluently, the ticket vendors could not tell that I was Việt kiều, or a foreigner, and thus let me through with the discounted price of the ticket. It cost about a dollar and a half for both me and my uncle, while for foreigners (who had to go the left of the entrance) had to fork over about double the amount that I payed. So at last we were in, staring out towards the beautiful buildings and structures all around us.
Our stay lasted over two hours, composed of visiting all the wards in the city. I read many of placards next to all the main attractions, trying to get a better idea of the history of the Imperial City, as my family had never talked of it. War had affected the site, as many placards referred to damages to buildings in the city. Though ancient, the citadel had been well maintained, full of green and color, due to many colorful tiles all around the walkways. Elephants could be seen taking tourists around the area, along with motes full of thousands of fish that tourists, including me and my uncle, could feed. It was fun seeing thousands of fish surface from the waters near the entrance to the main center of the citadel through feeding them a few of bags of fish food, all for about ten cents per bag. It was a lot to walk, as we walked maybe more than five kilometers or something, taking breaks every now and then, and eventually ending the day a top one of the pavilions, sipping lemondade and iced tea. My uncle convinced me to wear one of the costumes that the Nguyen emperors wore and take photos around the site. I reluctantly agreed and bought the ticket to do so. Many other tourists were doing the same, laughing and joking with one another about either how ridiculous they looked or how fitting they looked to be royalty. Funny enough, when I sat upon a throne set up for photo taking, some nearby tourists asked to join in the photo, addressing me as King and asking me if they had the permission to take the photo. It was an enjoyable and embarassing end to our visit at Dai Noi, with me and my uncle, shortly after, visiting the Thien Mu Pagoda, the tallest pagoda in Hue.
What a scenic site. This seven tier pagoda, sat in the view of the Huong River, its beautiful waters glistening underneath the bright sunlight and surrounded by lush greenery and temples. This was another popular tourist destination, seeing as how flocks and flocks of tourists came throughout the whole three hours that me and my uncle spent in this area. Though the pagoda area was not as big as the citadel, as it composed of the pagoda, several old buildings, and an area for the local Buddhist monks and their monastery, its significance and allure made it just as enjoyable. There was a serenity to the location, seeing the monks walk about, greeting visitors and tending to their duties. When we arrived, me and my uncle first went to the central altar, sending some prayers off, and then finally explored the site. One of the main attractions, other than the central pagoda, was the old car of Thich Quang Duc, a venerated martyr of the Vietnam war, self-immolating himself to protests the policies of South Vietnam President Ngo Dinh Diem. I just recently refreshed myself early today of Vietnamese history and was quite moved by the action of this monk. The car was an old Austin Westminster Sedan in which he drove to the Cambodian Embassy in Saigon, where he got out, doused his body with kerosene, and immolated himself. Remarkably his heart was intact and now is kept as a holy relic. What a story. What a sacrifice. Perhaps with time, I will learn more truthfully of the kind of human being it takes to consider such an act. After looking at the car, I walked around the whole site, taking pictures, listening to conversations between the tourists and the monks, learning more and more about the history of Hue, religion in Vietnam, and about tourism itself in Vietnam, which has become a large vein in the economy. Upon walking out of the site, I met the elder monk of the monastery, preparing for a meal and a religious ritual with his fellow monks. Also joining me were two Vietnamese women from Saigon, who decided to approach the monk first, me and my uncle standing in his vicinity.
"You don't look like you come from here, are you Việt kiều? I know Việt kiều when I see it" he immediately said, a big grin on his face. The women replied that they were from Saigon, coming up here to tour and relax. "So have you brought anything for me? Many people come here who have many things, but they never have anything to gift me!" he exclaimed, still keeping his peaceful and light hearted smile. I couldn't help but laugh and be captivated by his positive energy, bringing a smile also to all the surrounding people. "Alright, you know what, go on and enjoy the site, thank you for coming!" he said, waving us off and tending back to his activities. "What an encounter" I thought to myself. I starred off at a pond on the site, listening to the wind, and allowing myself to be swept off my feet by the energy of the site. It was remarkable, my body feeling lighter and less sore than before after that experience.
My uncle suggested that we go on a boat ride on the Huong River, to which I happily accepted. "How long is this going to take?" I asked my uncle. "Around an hour and a half on the water" he replied, with me responding with a gasp over how long the ride was. After haggling down the price of the boat ride, me and my uncle hopped onto a small, meticulously decorated boat belonging to a man and his wife, them both earning their living off the tourist industry (to which they have been doing for what looks like more than thirty years!). Inside the boat were small plastic red chairs, photos of the family, and many other small items and trinkets about. The motor buzzed, me and my uncle sank back into our chairs, and we set off, headed towards the direction of the sun. I took many photos, gazing out at the beautiful countryside, noticing wildlife and buildings with stunning clarity. It was peaceful, sailing along the water, and allowed me some piece to think over the day thus far. The saw some people on the river pumping up soil from the bottom of the river, in order to sell to the cement manufactuers for mere cents. What a hard a life, seeing the raft-like boats and the fragile looking motors of which the people used in their trade. "People do what they have to do to live" my uncle said, looking at them with me. The forty or so minute ride up to a temple on the river was quite a long time, my battery nearly running out of juice. We prayed at the temple, talked to some of the locals, and headed on our way back. The way back, our legs getting the better of us, we slept upon a straw mat that the woman on the boat handed us. Having not napped during the day, I took that opportunity to lay down and rest, though unable to sleep due to the rockiness of the vessel. One hour later of riding back to the Thien Mu Pagoda entrance, I noticed the sun starting to make its descent, painting the area with a golden hue. Tons of tourists were still entering the site. Time to eat.
My uncle drove me to another one of favorite spots to eat some of his favorite speciality dishes in Hue. My uncle knows his food, as everywhere he has taken me has been phenominal. "Always go where you see a lot of people, as that is a sign that that place is the real deal" he told me, to which I replied "of course." We rode back to the center in the sunset, the time around five or so I believe. Upon returning, the children were eating their dinner for the day, waving to me as a rode up back up to my room in the back of the center. "Bin! Come play! Tell us what you did today! We missed you! Its boring without you!" said a couple of my brothers from my old home. So after dropping my stuff off and taking a small break in my room to clean my room up, I made my way to all of the houses, catching up with the children about my adventures of the day. That night, I watched movies with the children and some of the older girls of the center, some who had recently returned from their hometowns to the center. I spoke with sister Dao once again, learning so much about Vietnam, its history, its people, and its current generation (to which I will speak about in my next entry). Talking until about nine thirty, I returned to my room to rest and work on my readings, relaxing until I finally decided to head off to bed.
Being Việt kiều is definitely been one of the struggles I have dealt with my whole life, alongside many other Vietnamese Americans that I know. Figuring out what it exactly means has puzzled me for so long, and this journey has given me much more clarity in defining it and figuring out how to reconcile the relationship between the many cultures that I come from. By the end of my journey, I know I will have a clear answer to this life long struggle.
Being a Saturday, I decided to wake up late, sleeping a healthy eight hours during the night. Upon waking up, I prepped myself for the travels of today, as my uncle intended on taking me to popular tourist destinations in the area. At around seven o'clock, my uncle Duyet showed up. What I almost forgot to mention (recalling three days ago) is that I went swimming with the children this day! This was the third time of the week and we plan to go every other day during the week to the same swimming center. My uncle stayed at the center until he was to take me over to the swimming center to meet all the children that had decided to go, about twenty of us or so. One brother, Than, had recently gotten sick and was unable to go. at around eight, I arrived at the center, waving at all the children who were waiting for me. Our swimming time was between eight thirty to ten, so we had to wait outside in hot sun. While we sat near the entrancec of the center, we joked with one another, the children teaching me funny sayings in Vietnamese and poking fun at me. At last our time arrived and we all sprinted in, excited for another day of swimming during the summer.
Thirst. It hit me very hard. Having not dranken any water in the morning made swimming today much much more difficult. Upon telling the children, I was told by some of them to drink the water in the swimming pool, followed by jeers and laughter. No worries, I stuck it through and still had a blast. And so we swam for that hour and a half, getting lessons from our swimming teacher, splashing and playing games in the water. Nhi, the cute 2nd grader of the center (also the 2nd youngest), asked me to take her around the pool, her sitting in a floatee. And so I did, taking her around, teaching her how to kick her feet and swim. My brothers from the Thanh Truc were racing each other around the pool, encouraging me eventually to join them. At last, our swim teacher called us up, blowing his whistle. I swam one more lap in the pool, and ran down to wash off in the showers. Boom! "Ouch, look at his head, its bleeding!" yelled one of the brothers. Bao had slipped and hit his head on the tiled floor, after trying to slide on it like some of the younger children. Blood seeped out of his head, his face in a wide grimace, as the pain flushed through his body. We all surrounded him, making sure he was okay, and allowed him to wash off and change for the ride back. He eventually ended up fine, sleeping well when he got back home. "I'm never doing that again" he told me, laughing as he put on his cap before getting on his bike to bike home.
My uncle picked me up shortly after, taking me back to the center to shower and change, and then took off to each lunch with him at one of his favorite restaurants. What a filling meal, and cheap too, being at around seven dollars for two people, five different dishes and drinks as well. At last, we headed off to the Imperial City, the citadel of the Nguyen emperors in Hue, the place where we had gone before but left due to insufficient time to explore the whole complex. The time was around twelve thirty or so, hot and bright outside. The citadel was enormous, surrounded by a mote, and many other monuments around it. Tourists from around the world and the country of Vietnam flooded in waves to the citadel. Parking our motorbike in the parking area, we walked over to the entrance, mesmerized by the architecture and mystified by the history of the citadel. It was damaged in the front, due to fighting during the Vietnam War, damaging some of the walls in the front. However, the majority of the site remained in rather good condition, as rebuilding occurs frequently, as I was told by my uncles. Our first stop was to buy our tickets, which was in the right side of the entrance, a location used for Vietnamese citizens. Since I looked and spoke the language fluently, the ticket vendors could not tell that I was Việt kiều, or a foreigner, and thus let me through with the discounted price of the ticket. It cost about a dollar and a half for both me and my uncle, while for foreigners (who had to go the left of the entrance) had to fork over about double the amount that I payed. So at last we were in, staring out towards the beautiful buildings and structures all around us.
Our stay lasted over two hours, composed of visiting all the wards in the city. I read many of placards next to all the main attractions, trying to get a better idea of the history of the Imperial City, as my family had never talked of it. War had affected the site, as many placards referred to damages to buildings in the city. Though ancient, the citadel had been well maintained, full of green and color, due to many colorful tiles all around the walkways. Elephants could be seen taking tourists around the area, along with motes full of thousands of fish that tourists, including me and my uncle, could feed. It was fun seeing thousands of fish surface from the waters near the entrance to the main center of the citadel through feeding them a few of bags of fish food, all for about ten cents per bag. It was a lot to walk, as we walked maybe more than five kilometers or something, taking breaks every now and then, and eventually ending the day a top one of the pavilions, sipping lemondade and iced tea. My uncle convinced me to wear one of the costumes that the Nguyen emperors wore and take photos around the site. I reluctantly agreed and bought the ticket to do so. Many other tourists were doing the same, laughing and joking with one another about either how ridiculous they looked or how fitting they looked to be royalty. Funny enough, when I sat upon a throne set up for photo taking, some nearby tourists asked to join in the photo, addressing me as King and asking me if they had the permission to take the photo. It was an enjoyable and embarassing end to our visit at Dai Noi, with me and my uncle, shortly after, visiting the Thien Mu Pagoda, the tallest pagoda in Hue.
What a scenic site. This seven tier pagoda, sat in the view of the Huong River, its beautiful waters glistening underneath the bright sunlight and surrounded by lush greenery and temples. This was another popular tourist destination, seeing as how flocks and flocks of tourists came throughout the whole three hours that me and my uncle spent in this area. Though the pagoda area was not as big as the citadel, as it composed of the pagoda, several old buildings, and an area for the local Buddhist monks and their monastery, its significance and allure made it just as enjoyable. There was a serenity to the location, seeing the monks walk about, greeting visitors and tending to their duties. When we arrived, me and my uncle first went to the central altar, sending some prayers off, and then finally explored the site. One of the main attractions, other than the central pagoda, was the old car of Thich Quang Duc, a venerated martyr of the Vietnam war, self-immolating himself to protests the policies of South Vietnam President Ngo Dinh Diem. I just recently refreshed myself early today of Vietnamese history and was quite moved by the action of this monk. The car was an old Austin Westminster Sedan in which he drove to the Cambodian Embassy in Saigon, where he got out, doused his body with kerosene, and immolated himself. Remarkably his heart was intact and now is kept as a holy relic. What a story. What a sacrifice. Perhaps with time, I will learn more truthfully of the kind of human being it takes to consider such an act. After looking at the car, I walked around the whole site, taking pictures, listening to conversations between the tourists and the monks, learning more and more about the history of Hue, religion in Vietnam, and about tourism itself in Vietnam, which has become a large vein in the economy. Upon walking out of the site, I met the elder monk of the monastery, preparing for a meal and a religious ritual with his fellow monks. Also joining me were two Vietnamese women from Saigon, who decided to approach the monk first, me and my uncle standing in his vicinity.
"You don't look like you come from here, are you Việt kiều? I know Việt kiều when I see it" he immediately said, a big grin on his face. The women replied that they were from Saigon, coming up here to tour and relax. "So have you brought anything for me? Many people come here who have many things, but they never have anything to gift me!" he exclaimed, still keeping his peaceful and light hearted smile. I couldn't help but laugh and be captivated by his positive energy, bringing a smile also to all the surrounding people. "Alright, you know what, go on and enjoy the site, thank you for coming!" he said, waving us off and tending back to his activities. "What an encounter" I thought to myself. I starred off at a pond on the site, listening to the wind, and allowing myself to be swept off my feet by the energy of the site. It was remarkable, my body feeling lighter and less sore than before after that experience.
My uncle suggested that we go on a boat ride on the Huong River, to which I happily accepted. "How long is this going to take?" I asked my uncle. "Around an hour and a half on the water" he replied, with me responding with a gasp over how long the ride was. After haggling down the price of the boat ride, me and my uncle hopped onto a small, meticulously decorated boat belonging to a man and his wife, them both earning their living off the tourist industry (to which they have been doing for what looks like more than thirty years!). Inside the boat were small plastic red chairs, photos of the family, and many other small items and trinkets about. The motor buzzed, me and my uncle sank back into our chairs, and we set off, headed towards the direction of the sun. I took many photos, gazing out at the beautiful countryside, noticing wildlife and buildings with stunning clarity. It was peaceful, sailing along the water, and allowed me some piece to think over the day thus far. The saw some people on the river pumping up soil from the bottom of the river, in order to sell to the cement manufactuers for mere cents. What a hard a life, seeing the raft-like boats and the fragile looking motors of which the people used in their trade. "People do what they have to do to live" my uncle said, looking at them with me. The forty or so minute ride up to a temple on the river was quite a long time, my battery nearly running out of juice. We prayed at the temple, talked to some of the locals, and headed on our way back. The way back, our legs getting the better of us, we slept upon a straw mat that the woman on the boat handed us. Having not napped during the day, I took that opportunity to lay down and rest, though unable to sleep due to the rockiness of the vessel. One hour later of riding back to the Thien Mu Pagoda entrance, I noticed the sun starting to make its descent, painting the area with a golden hue. Tons of tourists were still entering the site. Time to eat.
My uncle drove me to another one of favorite spots to eat some of his favorite speciality dishes in Hue. My uncle knows his food, as everywhere he has taken me has been phenominal. "Always go where you see a lot of people, as that is a sign that that place is the real deal" he told me, to which I replied "of course." We rode back to the center in the sunset, the time around five or so I believe. Upon returning, the children were eating their dinner for the day, waving to me as a rode up back up to my room in the back of the center. "Bin! Come play! Tell us what you did today! We missed you! Its boring without you!" said a couple of my brothers from my old home. So after dropping my stuff off and taking a small break in my room to clean my room up, I made my way to all of the houses, catching up with the children about my adventures of the day. That night, I watched movies with the children and some of the older girls of the center, some who had recently returned from their hometowns to the center. I spoke with sister Dao once again, learning so much about Vietnam, its history, its people, and its current generation (to which I will speak about in my next entry). Talking until about nine thirty, I returned to my room to rest and work on my readings, relaxing until I finally decided to head off to bed.
Being Việt kiều is definitely been one of the struggles I have dealt with my whole life, alongside many other Vietnamese Americans that I know. Figuring out what it exactly means has puzzled me for so long, and this journey has given me much more clarity in defining it and figuring out how to reconcile the relationship between the many cultures that I come from. By the end of my journey, I know I will have a clear answer to this life long struggle.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
#22 - "Talk With Me a Little Bit More"
What a relaxing weekend so far. This post will cover the events of last Friday, one of my busiest days here yet. Let's get started!
Three A.M. hit. Beep, beep, beep! Work time. As I said in the last post, I promised to wake up early in order to help my older brothers in the baking school. Rolling out of bed, I let out a loud yawn, and went over to brush my teeth, feeling tired and sore from all the fanfare of the day before. Outside my window, I noticed that all the lights in the baking school were on, the school being less than a ten second walk from my door. Grabbing just my keys, I left my room and met my brothers, hard at work.
"Okay, so what do you want me to do?" I asked, staring in all directions, looking at all the intricate processes of making fine quality bread. "Start rolling out this dough into small spheres to make different pastries" said one of the brothers. And so after a quick lesson, I was off to work. This morning there was about five of the brothers working. They all knew what they had to do, as they work off a schedule and take orders from outside businesses of what kinds of breads are needed. In one room, there were the ovens, racks, storage cupboards, refrigerators, and other storage items used to deliver the breads, while in the other (the one where I was at for the most of my time this morning) all the different types of machines, stoves, pots, pans, ingredients, work stations, etc. They worked fast, noticing the swift and controlled motions of their hands as they kneeded the bread and formed the balls of dough into all many different shapes. During my demonstration, I thought, "well it shouldn't be that hard to form a sphere with dough, look at him, he makes it look pretty easy." Well it was not.
I dusted my hands with flour and started slicing off chunks of dough, all weighing around 140 grams, and attempted to form the balls of dough. Most of the time, my efforts would form unsmooth, lopsided ovals, or I would form a decent looking ball on the top, but have it a mess at the bottom. Eventually, one of the brothers, noticing my frustration, went over and showed me how to do it, a lot more slowly this time. I got better, of course, but maybe need a few more lessons and more days of practice to perfect it. So there I was, hacking dough, rolling, and working away. When it came time to put the dough on the racks, one of the other brothers, the one running quality control for the day, took all of my dough balls and rerolled them, telling me that they were not up to their standards. Ouch, that hurt my pride a little. Oh well, I kept working and they corrected any of my creations that were not on par with their standards. I could go on about all the happenings of this morning for eternity, but I will summarize in a few lines. I was there for a long time, working from three to six in the morning. I helped create around three or four different types of breads, looking alongside my brothers for advice, and chatting to them about their work. It was amusing to see them so content with their work, joking here and there, and snatching for themselves some extras to munch on as they kept their work on. What an inspirational bunch of human beings, many of them coming from the most poor of situations in the whole area, to come here and spend their time to perfect a craft, eventually teach it to others, and them find a job so that they can support themselves and their families. We had a filling breakfast of french pastries, french bread with an egg and ham mix, and praised each other for the hard work. So after three hours of labor, I decided it was time to head back, shower, and get ready for the rest of the day.
After showering and tidying up my room, I took the time to relax in my bed for about an hour, still feeling tired from having to wake up so early. An hour later, I assembled all my paperwork and lessons for the class in the morning, which was the class for the students scoring below average on their English Literature examinations, or as they call it, the students Duy Kem (in Vietnamese, a D without any markins on it is pronounced the same way as the letter 'y' is in English). Shortly after, as I was assembling my paperwork, I got an unexpected phonecall.
"Ben, how are you doing? I miss you so much!" answers my mom, my dad listening alongside her. It had been a while since I had talked to my parents, hardly finding the time to call them myself. They kept track of me through my uncle and other family members, asking if I was okay, sleeping alright, eating alright, and everything else. Being away for so long, my mom always reminds me of how much she misses me and wants to buy a ticket to Vietnam herself to visit me. "Hehehe, don't be sad, I'll be back home in no time!" I reply. It was heartwarming to hear the voices of my parents, who, with passing day in Vietnam, I learn more and more about. Every single day, my love and understanding for them grows and I at last told them on this phone call about my own feelings about them and my life. I guess I will say it here that I grew not understanding and agreeing with them on many different things. Being born from two different cultures, we had many troubles as I grew up with agreeing on different ideas, philosophies, and methods of living. As a more mature young adult. I regard my younger self as a defiant, independant boy, wanting to things his way because he felt that he was more correct and more knowledgable about the world of America than his family, therefore allowing him to have the say in what is right and wrong. This same mindset led me to mischaracterize my parents, think of them in ways that were far off from the truth, and blindsided me from truly understanding their lives, and why they are the people that they are. Though it is true that being young can make you ignorant, I feel that I almost made the choice to be ignorant, as I didn't ask my parents of their life experiences as much as I could and perhaps should have. "What a fool you were" I sometimes think to myself, thinking back to all the times I argued and misjudged my family. But, now I know more than I ever would have thought about myself and my family, and from there the cultures that I come from, one deeply rooted in the East and one deeply rooted in the West.
We talked for about thirty minutes, my parents reminding me to stay focused and stay healthy. My dad had my little brother, Nam, print out all my blog entries for my parents to read - all forty pages. And they read them all the other night. Well, I was surprised that my dad understood my writing, as he then suggested some different writing strategies and ideas for me to think about while I am here in Vietnam. I at last told my parent's, towards the end of the call about my feelings towards them, apologizing for wronging them as a child, and really let them into my heart, allowing them to see how much I have grown up and how much I have grown to understand them. "You know Ben, me and our dad are very proud of what you have accomplished and we always believed in you, whether of not we agreed with each other" said my mom, "you telling us this now makes us both happier than ever and that is enough for us." "When you get older," my father said, "we do not want anything from you, no house, no cars, no money, because we raised you to be a successful man and have the brightest future for yourself, so that you may serve the lives of other people." Even as I write this now, I shed the same tears of compassion and love for my parents, just as I did towards the end of that call. What a feeling... Warmth, sorrow, love, humility, and everything else all during the last five minutes of that call. "Talk with me a little bit more, about anything, I just want to hear your voice for a bit more" my mom told me, and so I did, reminding them of all the activities I did in the morning and my plans for the rest of the day. After setting down the phone, I took a deep breath, drank some water, and stared off at the ceiling, using some time to reflect on what had just happened. Eight o'clock struck and I headed off for my first class.
Teaching the children has entered a phase where I feel that they are understanding much of what I am teaching, learning the grammar and vocabulary very well. The only area that I am struggling on is getting them to converse with one another in English, my main objective of my stay here. This class, I focused on a new lesson about grammar and vocabulary, stressing many rules in completing sentences and allow them to work on their pronunciation skills. This morning class was successful, the students telling me that they are understanding my lessons and such, but still expressing to me their frustrations with their former English education, in that they did not get enough practice with speaking English, leading them to have difficulty attempting to talk to me in English. One of the students, Thuy, one of the younger sisters, told me that much of teaching at the high schools and middle schools on English were taught passively, the teachers giving little to no room for the students to speak English during the lessons, as lessons focused only on grammar and vocabulary, rather than speaking. My deduction from this is that, because the examinations in English are only multiple choice based in Vietnam, many teachers are focusing only on that aspect, as speaking skills are not tested for in any of the main examinations in secondary school and university entrance exams. This leaves me with a rather interesting situation of devising the best possible way to teach English, as it already has, with introducing enough vocabulary and grammar, but also speaking lessons, to create a well-rounded curriculum. I am still working on this each and every day, and it is getting easier as I improve my Vietnamese. Back to the day!
My uncle Duyet called me, telling me that we were going to go touring around Hue to site-see after my last class of the day. Laundry time! I had a bucket of clothes that I left for the whole week, especially because I went swimming every other day this week (including the next day after this entry). Thirty minutes later, I went back into my room to rest and relax, waiting to be called in for dinner with my brothers from the baking school. We chatted over the work day, talking about many different things while also eyeing the television, showing what looks to be a cartoon about the Sonic the Hedgehog series dubbed in Vietnamese. I thanked my brothers and Ms. Dua for the lunch, and went back in my room to nap, a much needed one at that. After a short thirty minutes of sleep, I got up and paced around the room, thinking again about what happened today, and also more ideas for lessons. I quickly jotted some ideas down in my notebook for lessons, and started to read some of my Vietnamese learning books. When the time came to teach, I grabbed my laptop bag and headed off, flicking off the switch for air conditioning.
This afternoon class was for the high school students, numbering today up to six students. The first hour composed of vocabulary and pronnunciation, many of students already knowing many of the vocabulary I had written on the board. Every now and them one of them asked me how to say certain Vietnamese words in English, and when I failed to deliver a response and handed them a dictionary that translated Vietnamese to English. Some of them even took to time to look up some, what I will say as 'unnecessary for class room discussion' words, and said them back to me during the class. I smiled, laughed, and said, "okay, that's enough, give me the dictionary." During our ten minutes break after the first hour, we all looked over photos of the day before, listening to music, and chatting. It was a rather intresting feeling to have to teach the students who I treat as my own family members, seeing as how they address me as "teacher, or Anh, the Vietnamese word for an older male, often used to show respect." I still prefer them to call me Ben or, my Vietnamese name, Bin (pronounced as Bean). The second half of class composed of conversations, mostly between me and Manh, one of my younger brothers, as we ask each other questions. I hope to be doing this more often and plan to have more one-on-one tutoring sessions with the students to work on speaking when I have time outside the classroom.
My uncle arrived at four, so I went back, packed up my things, and headed off to our first destination, the Imperial Citadel in Hue.
It was bright, sunny, hot, and lively, on the streets on Hue at this time, as it was tourist season and also the end of the weekend. People from all around Vietnam and the world, were touring everywhere, cameras all about. Unfortunately, me and my uncle arrived to the citadel about thirty minutes before closing time, a normal visit being two hours to see it all (I will describe the citadel in the next entry as I actually got to visit it and many other amazing places the next day!). Instead, we decided to ride around Hue some more, visit the pierre, and eventually decided to get on one of the intriquite ferries that we rode on the other day with Mrs. Hong's friends and family, on the Song Huong, or the Perfume River/Huong River (it gets the perfume name from the flowers that fall into the river during certain seasons, giving it an aromatic smell). While waiting to board the ferry, we noticed a sign for a new resturant being build onto the river, costing at around ten billion Vietnamese dong or around $500,000. Wow! It was in its beginning phases of contruction, seeing just the frame of the restaurant completed. What a site, I hopefully will return to try something from there in the years to come. As the time went by, thousands of people flocked over to the pierre to see the singers of Hue, which were to board the many different ferries on the pierre and sail off into the river, offering guests and unique style of musical entertainment. Men and women dressed in Ao Dai, (the national costume), equipped with instruments boarded the ferries, followed by hoards of people, eager to hear them perform. What a night...
The singing was captivating, expressing feelings and emotions, I cannot truly describe, maybe a mix between contemplation and passion. The night was beautiful, the Hue night life coming to fruition. The pleasant breeze on the river colled me off and allowed me relax my tired arms and legs. After an intermission in the performance, all the boat members casted off pyres into the river, saying a wish, and setting it off into the river to flow out into the distance. As I cast my pyre off, I thought to myself of all that had happened today once again, wishing that I would find the strength in myself to carry out my mission and find peace and love for myself when my mission ends. I starred at the pyre, as it floated off in the distance, until it finally subsided and sank into the river. The musical performance ended with a comedic note, with two performers singing jokes to one another, amidst an exciting score of instrumentation. Soon after we left the pierre, it started to rain. Rain came, a lot of it, people rushing off to get under cover and get home. After a long hour or so of staying it out in cover due to not having rain coats, me and my uncle eventually made it back to the center, tired, soaked with rain water, and refreshed by the journeys taken today. It was at last time to call it a night, my body really letting me know it had had enough. What soothing sleep...
Three A.M. hit. Beep, beep, beep! Work time. As I said in the last post, I promised to wake up early in order to help my older brothers in the baking school. Rolling out of bed, I let out a loud yawn, and went over to brush my teeth, feeling tired and sore from all the fanfare of the day before. Outside my window, I noticed that all the lights in the baking school were on, the school being less than a ten second walk from my door. Grabbing just my keys, I left my room and met my brothers, hard at work.
"Okay, so what do you want me to do?" I asked, staring in all directions, looking at all the intricate processes of making fine quality bread. "Start rolling out this dough into small spheres to make different pastries" said one of the brothers. And so after a quick lesson, I was off to work. This morning there was about five of the brothers working. They all knew what they had to do, as they work off a schedule and take orders from outside businesses of what kinds of breads are needed. In one room, there were the ovens, racks, storage cupboards, refrigerators, and other storage items used to deliver the breads, while in the other (the one where I was at for the most of my time this morning) all the different types of machines, stoves, pots, pans, ingredients, work stations, etc. They worked fast, noticing the swift and controlled motions of their hands as they kneeded the bread and formed the balls of dough into all many different shapes. During my demonstration, I thought, "well it shouldn't be that hard to form a sphere with dough, look at him, he makes it look pretty easy." Well it was not.
I dusted my hands with flour and started slicing off chunks of dough, all weighing around 140 grams, and attempted to form the balls of dough. Most of the time, my efforts would form unsmooth, lopsided ovals, or I would form a decent looking ball on the top, but have it a mess at the bottom. Eventually, one of the brothers, noticing my frustration, went over and showed me how to do it, a lot more slowly this time. I got better, of course, but maybe need a few more lessons and more days of practice to perfect it. So there I was, hacking dough, rolling, and working away. When it came time to put the dough on the racks, one of the other brothers, the one running quality control for the day, took all of my dough balls and rerolled them, telling me that they were not up to their standards. Ouch, that hurt my pride a little. Oh well, I kept working and they corrected any of my creations that were not on par with their standards. I could go on about all the happenings of this morning for eternity, but I will summarize in a few lines. I was there for a long time, working from three to six in the morning. I helped create around three or four different types of breads, looking alongside my brothers for advice, and chatting to them about their work. It was amusing to see them so content with their work, joking here and there, and snatching for themselves some extras to munch on as they kept their work on. What an inspirational bunch of human beings, many of them coming from the most poor of situations in the whole area, to come here and spend their time to perfect a craft, eventually teach it to others, and them find a job so that they can support themselves and their families. We had a filling breakfast of french pastries, french bread with an egg and ham mix, and praised each other for the hard work. So after three hours of labor, I decided it was time to head back, shower, and get ready for the rest of the day.
After showering and tidying up my room, I took the time to relax in my bed for about an hour, still feeling tired from having to wake up so early. An hour later, I assembled all my paperwork and lessons for the class in the morning, which was the class for the students scoring below average on their English Literature examinations, or as they call it, the students Duy Kem (in Vietnamese, a D without any markins on it is pronounced the same way as the letter 'y' is in English). Shortly after, as I was assembling my paperwork, I got an unexpected phonecall.
"Ben, how are you doing? I miss you so much!" answers my mom, my dad listening alongside her. It had been a while since I had talked to my parents, hardly finding the time to call them myself. They kept track of me through my uncle and other family members, asking if I was okay, sleeping alright, eating alright, and everything else. Being away for so long, my mom always reminds me of how much she misses me and wants to buy a ticket to Vietnam herself to visit me. "Hehehe, don't be sad, I'll be back home in no time!" I reply. It was heartwarming to hear the voices of my parents, who, with passing day in Vietnam, I learn more and more about. Every single day, my love and understanding for them grows and I at last told them on this phone call about my own feelings about them and my life. I guess I will say it here that I grew not understanding and agreeing with them on many different things. Being born from two different cultures, we had many troubles as I grew up with agreeing on different ideas, philosophies, and methods of living. As a more mature young adult. I regard my younger self as a defiant, independant boy, wanting to things his way because he felt that he was more correct and more knowledgable about the world of America than his family, therefore allowing him to have the say in what is right and wrong. This same mindset led me to mischaracterize my parents, think of them in ways that were far off from the truth, and blindsided me from truly understanding their lives, and why they are the people that they are. Though it is true that being young can make you ignorant, I feel that I almost made the choice to be ignorant, as I didn't ask my parents of their life experiences as much as I could and perhaps should have. "What a fool you were" I sometimes think to myself, thinking back to all the times I argued and misjudged my family. But, now I know more than I ever would have thought about myself and my family, and from there the cultures that I come from, one deeply rooted in the East and one deeply rooted in the West.
We talked for about thirty minutes, my parents reminding me to stay focused and stay healthy. My dad had my little brother, Nam, print out all my blog entries for my parents to read - all forty pages. And they read them all the other night. Well, I was surprised that my dad understood my writing, as he then suggested some different writing strategies and ideas for me to think about while I am here in Vietnam. I at last told my parent's, towards the end of the call about my feelings towards them, apologizing for wronging them as a child, and really let them into my heart, allowing them to see how much I have grown up and how much I have grown to understand them. "You know Ben, me and our dad are very proud of what you have accomplished and we always believed in you, whether of not we agreed with each other" said my mom, "you telling us this now makes us both happier than ever and that is enough for us." "When you get older," my father said, "we do not want anything from you, no house, no cars, no money, because we raised you to be a successful man and have the brightest future for yourself, so that you may serve the lives of other people." Even as I write this now, I shed the same tears of compassion and love for my parents, just as I did towards the end of that call. What a feeling... Warmth, sorrow, love, humility, and everything else all during the last five minutes of that call. "Talk with me a little bit more, about anything, I just want to hear your voice for a bit more" my mom told me, and so I did, reminding them of all the activities I did in the morning and my plans for the rest of the day. After setting down the phone, I took a deep breath, drank some water, and stared off at the ceiling, using some time to reflect on what had just happened. Eight o'clock struck and I headed off for my first class.
Teaching the children has entered a phase where I feel that they are understanding much of what I am teaching, learning the grammar and vocabulary very well. The only area that I am struggling on is getting them to converse with one another in English, my main objective of my stay here. This class, I focused on a new lesson about grammar and vocabulary, stressing many rules in completing sentences and allow them to work on their pronunciation skills. This morning class was successful, the students telling me that they are understanding my lessons and such, but still expressing to me their frustrations with their former English education, in that they did not get enough practice with speaking English, leading them to have difficulty attempting to talk to me in English. One of the students, Thuy, one of the younger sisters, told me that much of teaching at the high schools and middle schools on English were taught passively, the teachers giving little to no room for the students to speak English during the lessons, as lessons focused only on grammar and vocabulary, rather than speaking. My deduction from this is that, because the examinations in English are only multiple choice based in Vietnam, many teachers are focusing only on that aspect, as speaking skills are not tested for in any of the main examinations in secondary school and university entrance exams. This leaves me with a rather interesting situation of devising the best possible way to teach English, as it already has, with introducing enough vocabulary and grammar, but also speaking lessons, to create a well-rounded curriculum. I am still working on this each and every day, and it is getting easier as I improve my Vietnamese. Back to the day!
My uncle Duyet called me, telling me that we were going to go touring around Hue to site-see after my last class of the day. Laundry time! I had a bucket of clothes that I left for the whole week, especially because I went swimming every other day this week (including the next day after this entry). Thirty minutes later, I went back into my room to rest and relax, waiting to be called in for dinner with my brothers from the baking school. We chatted over the work day, talking about many different things while also eyeing the television, showing what looks to be a cartoon about the Sonic the Hedgehog series dubbed in Vietnamese. I thanked my brothers and Ms. Dua for the lunch, and went back in my room to nap, a much needed one at that. After a short thirty minutes of sleep, I got up and paced around the room, thinking again about what happened today, and also more ideas for lessons. I quickly jotted some ideas down in my notebook for lessons, and started to read some of my Vietnamese learning books. When the time came to teach, I grabbed my laptop bag and headed off, flicking off the switch for air conditioning.
This afternoon class was for the high school students, numbering today up to six students. The first hour composed of vocabulary and pronnunciation, many of students already knowing many of the vocabulary I had written on the board. Every now and them one of them asked me how to say certain Vietnamese words in English, and when I failed to deliver a response and handed them a dictionary that translated Vietnamese to English. Some of them even took to time to look up some, what I will say as 'unnecessary for class room discussion' words, and said them back to me during the class. I smiled, laughed, and said, "okay, that's enough, give me the dictionary." During our ten minutes break after the first hour, we all looked over photos of the day before, listening to music, and chatting. It was a rather intresting feeling to have to teach the students who I treat as my own family members, seeing as how they address me as "teacher, or Anh, the Vietnamese word for an older male, often used to show respect." I still prefer them to call me Ben or, my Vietnamese name, Bin (pronounced as Bean). The second half of class composed of conversations, mostly between me and Manh, one of my younger brothers, as we ask each other questions. I hope to be doing this more often and plan to have more one-on-one tutoring sessions with the students to work on speaking when I have time outside the classroom.
My uncle arrived at four, so I went back, packed up my things, and headed off to our first destination, the Imperial Citadel in Hue.
It was bright, sunny, hot, and lively, on the streets on Hue at this time, as it was tourist season and also the end of the weekend. People from all around Vietnam and the world, were touring everywhere, cameras all about. Unfortunately, me and my uncle arrived to the citadel about thirty minutes before closing time, a normal visit being two hours to see it all (I will describe the citadel in the next entry as I actually got to visit it and many other amazing places the next day!). Instead, we decided to ride around Hue some more, visit the pierre, and eventually decided to get on one of the intriquite ferries that we rode on the other day with Mrs. Hong's friends and family, on the Song Huong, or the Perfume River/Huong River (it gets the perfume name from the flowers that fall into the river during certain seasons, giving it an aromatic smell). While waiting to board the ferry, we noticed a sign for a new resturant being build onto the river, costing at around ten billion Vietnamese dong or around $500,000. Wow! It was in its beginning phases of contruction, seeing just the frame of the restaurant completed. What a site, I hopefully will return to try something from there in the years to come. As the time went by, thousands of people flocked over to the pierre to see the singers of Hue, which were to board the many different ferries on the pierre and sail off into the river, offering guests and unique style of musical entertainment. Men and women dressed in Ao Dai, (the national costume), equipped with instruments boarded the ferries, followed by hoards of people, eager to hear them perform. What a night...
The singing was captivating, expressing feelings and emotions, I cannot truly describe, maybe a mix between contemplation and passion. The night was beautiful, the Hue night life coming to fruition. The pleasant breeze on the river colled me off and allowed me relax my tired arms and legs. After an intermission in the performance, all the boat members casted off pyres into the river, saying a wish, and setting it off into the river to flow out into the distance. As I cast my pyre off, I thought to myself of all that had happened today once again, wishing that I would find the strength in myself to carry out my mission and find peace and love for myself when my mission ends. I starred at the pyre, as it floated off in the distance, until it finally subsided and sank into the river. The musical performance ended with a comedic note, with two performers singing jokes to one another, amidst an exciting score of instrumentation. Soon after we left the pierre, it started to rain. Rain came, a lot of it, people rushing off to get under cover and get home. After a long hour or so of staying it out in cover due to not having rain coats, me and my uncle eventually made it back to the center, tired, soaked with rain water, and refreshed by the journeys taken today. It was at last time to call it a night, my body really letting me know it had had enough. What soothing sleep...
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