#2 - Excitement and Silence

        Here I am laying in my aunt's house using a modem to write this blog. I am still weary from waking up so early today (the sun comes up at 4:30 AM here!). Still I must say that I have felt so many feelings over the past 24 hours of arriving and still have so many more things to do.
        Picking up where I last left off of heading over to Saigon from Taipei, I began reading a book on learning Vietnamese. I had never been formally taught Vietnamese, but have been speaking it since I was very young. Knowing that I would be teaching English to Vietnamese speakers I read the book in its entirety over my flights over. Still... I feel a little apprehensive as I still have much more to learn. Nevertheless the book has proven a great guide for teaching me how to read Vietnamese. I have decided that on Monday (two days from now) I will go to work at the orphanage.
        When I finally arrived in Saigon I definitely felt overwhelmed by the amount of people waiting outside the airport to pick up family members that returned. After picking up all my luggage I remembered wandering in front the entrance (which was swarmed by thousands of individuals) wondering where my contact was. My uncle named Duyet found me as I walked past the crowd. He was holding up a sign that said "Cau Duyet" meaning uncle Duyet. I was also greeted by one of his friends who helped us take our luggage over to get it checked in for our next domestic flight to Hue.
          Instantly when I stepped outside I was not only hit by the startling humidity of the summer weather in Vietnam, but also by the intensity of emotions coming from all the people being reunited with family members. Countless people held up signs and screamed names of loved ones as I walked through the crowd to meet my uncle. First stop? Food. As a fluent speaker of food I asked him where he knew was a great place to eat in Saigon. We ate. A LOT. Having frequented Vietnamese food my whole life for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, we ordered over eight dishes for three people. To cool off we then grabbed ice cream and ordered a coconut to eat/drink. Life was good.
        While sitting in the airport looking out into the sky as we were awaiting our flight to Hue I thought much over my impression of Vietnam. I recalled sights of the streets of Saigon which were dirty in some areas, nice in others, people riding automobiles (mostly motor cycles) everywhere, tourists abound and trying out foods - so much phenomena that I noticed traveling to other developing countries. Still there was something different that I longed to find. Even as I sit here in my aunt's house writing this piece, I still need time to figure out answers to all my questions.
         When I finally stepped outside my last plane (a pleasant hour and five minute ride) I at last felt prepared and ready to take on Vietnam - outside the tourist world. Eating ice cream and stuffing my face with food is great, but again I think often of my role here. It is a vacation, but also with many duties. Exiting the airport I was embraced by many family members coming up to greet me, but to my surprise, there quite a few names of people I remembered that did not come. "Why aren't ____ here?" I asked after seeing everyone that came. I learned that many of my family members, especially the children that I remember, are now off either working or living in other parts of Vietnam. After joking and a long talk with some of my family members that came over, I went with Duyet to go and drop off my valuables in his house in Hue. It was rather interesting walking to his house as every local starred at me as I walked through. Looking at my rather light skin and all my items, they instantly, of course, would know that I was from elsewhere. Packing some clothes and bringing along all the gifts for family members, we embarked on a final ride via taxi to the home village of Hai Nhuan.
         Recalling the bumpy road that I took last visit, I was actually overwhelmingly surprised at the cleanliness and the beauty of Vietnam. The sky was perfectly clear, shining uplifting rays upon the locals traveling from one location to the next. Countless people rode bikes and wore bright clothes. Talk and music rang about. My preconceptions of Hue had been mistakingly wrong. By the way, there was no bumpy road this time to the village. Bridges had been erected connecting many plots of land, mostly farm land, to another and I caught many valuable glimpses of the beauty and simplicity (or so it seemed) that lay in the lives of the Vietnamese citizen. But of course that is just another stereotype that foreigners ascribe to all people that they may visit. I know their life is hard and I wanted to learn more.
         I saw creations of fish trappings and other hunting methods used by the locals to catch food. I recall hearing that the Vietnamese people say that "if you can catch it, you can eat it." This holds up for many developing countries that I have seen most people do not have to luxury of simply selecting specific animals to eat and specific parts that they can buy from the market. "We eat it all" said my uncle. I was captivated by the colors of the buildings, ranging from bright baby blue to dark purple, that covered houses, schools, temples, burial grounds, and everything else.
         It was at the point where I saw all of the green ladened ground turn a yellowish-white. Sand. Lots of sand. It covered the entire ground and trees and vegetation sprinkled about the land. I was nearly "home." As I neared closer to the house of my grandfather, I recalled countless vivid memories of my experience long ago. All the playing, all the silliness, all the sadness came back. I looked out into the distance trying to find the particular house and buildings that matched the vision in my head of the village. Funny enough, I was really mistaken for most of it! My home village is layed out in what to me seemed like a labyrinth. Every turn led to the house of another family and countless buildings were erected since I had last returned. I learned that over five thousand villagers live in my village and I had only seem maybe a small percentage of that total. Still, upon entering over the arch symbolizing the entering of the village, I at last took a sigh of relief and prepared myself for what was to come - seeing my grandfather (which I had already known, had been receiving much grief over some familial issues to such that my dad refuses to talk to him).
         There he was, tall (as in tall for Vietnamese people), dark, full of white hair on his scalp, and with rather solemn yet pleased look upon his face to see his grandson return before him. "Hi grandfather" I said "it has been too long." No response. By then countless other family members and villagers came over to see what was going on. They all commented on me and joked about the times that they remember me fooling around in the village when I had last come. The joy and laughter comforted me.
        At last, he spoke. Very softly, he told me that was happy to see me and that me coming back in person to see him brought him peace at last. My grandmother passed away some years ago and the life of my grandfather had never been the same. They erected an altar for my grandmother, alongside many other ancestors, and burned incense frequently to pay tribute to her. Looking upon her picture on her altar, my entire face quickly pained up. I remember promising her over the phone before her passing away that I would come back to see her. At last I did. I spent a solemn half hour at the altaring, thinking and reciting to myself all the memories and love that I had for her. I planted each individual stick of incense in little ceramic pots filled with ash, and said my final blessings. Today I hope to visit her grave and pay my tributes - with my grandfather.
         The house had not changed much. I remember the locations of my grandfathers house, the mat where my little pet puppy slept in, the bed I slept in, the bathroom, the paint of the house, the size of it. To my surprise though was that there were not as many power outages as before. So I ate. And talked. And ate more. And talked. My relatives told me that out of all the returning American village members that had returned, I was the only one that actually spoke to them to great degree in Vietnamese. They were proud. They saw that I cared for them and I knew how to speak to them, rather than just answer "Yes (da or ya)" or "No" to every phrase/question. They were captivated by my stories of America and my travels around the world. They were even more impressed by the endless willingless to talk with them about everything. I did not let up.
        After handing out all the gifts (medicine, clothes, etc.) I sat on the old bed that I slept on last visit and sat with my grandfather. In this particular room was two beds on opposite sides of the building and the altar to Buddha and an altar to ancestors, one behind the other, in the middle of the room. The burning smell of incense filled the room. The crickets chirped outside, mosquitos buzzed, and children flocked back to their homes to sleep. It was at last peaceful. My relatives brought out the mosquito net and a fan for the night and left me with some final words and talk. It was quite the night. I woke up several times recalling memories of the past and also roamed back and forth thinking about everything that had just transpired. At one point while I was about the fall back to sleep in the middle of the night, my grandfather poked his head into the room just slightly, to see if I slept. Words probably cannot describe how he feels about my return, but I know it makes us both at peace.
        I woke up REALLY early. Having said before, the sun rises on this coastal village at 4:30 AM. I got up along with my other relatives outside my grandfathers house and had some tea and then walked out to see the beach. It was breathtaking. The trail of the rising sun upon the water and the level of attachment of the village to the ocean was remarkable. Boats and fishing related equipment was everywhere. People walked upon the shore staring off into the ocean, checking traps, exercising, and everything. I long to return to swiming in the pleasant warm waters of the this beach (which I will be doing today!).I visited many old places, some new places (including a new internet cafe that they were able to create for the village) to which I am able to access the internet. Times have changed I guess. Still, my people continue to live similar to what they have been living for countless generations. Technology has only seemed to changed in the small ways of phones to nicer phones. As I finish up this piece, with a hungry stomach I may add, I think to how to I must prepare for my encounter with the orphans. As I move onto lunch, I must say that I feel ready. Ready for it all. And so with that, I ride off on my uncles motorcycle to my grandfather's place for some chicken and rice.

'Till next time!

*photos soon =)