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.
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