Breaking My Silence

       These last two weeks have been the most impacting weeks of my life. They have shaped the culminating experience of this fellowship, and have allowed me to see things from every direction. I will reveal what it felt like to have my soul ripped out of me, being locked in a cage for almost a week. This is the first part. The second part will go over my liberation. "Justice first, charity later" said Odon Vallet, a professor from Sorbonne University in France and philanthropist, as I ate with him at the historic Saigon Morin Hotel in Hue. That one line from him is exactly what I brought to the center, and to myself. I needed it, the center needed it, and the country of Vietnam needs it. In the end, after a life defining week and a half, I succeeded, leaving the center in peace and good spirits, no longer with a heavy heart. I left that center smiling, smiling along with the children, their mothers, and Mr. Hung, the gardener and father figure of the center. And here I am, sitting back in my paternal grandfather's house (my maternal grandparents have returned to Vietnam for some time), listening to the sounds of life in the village of Hai Nhuan. Its good to be home. Its good to be free.

I need some time to return to America first, then I will follow up with the final three entries of this blog. I can't wait to share what I discovered - and what I did with it. 

#47 - Doing the Right Thing

         As I write this passage now, reflecting on the events of Tuesday, I will start first by saying that I now have known more about the center than ever, understanding about the issues underneath the surface, the reality, the truth. I will flesh it out in my next entry, as I just discovered much of this information today, and I am even more convicted to make things right here. A fire is brewing in my being and I need to do what is right.
        This Tuesday morning there was no class scheduled in morning, due to many of the children having to go to school. I woke close to eight, having a rather decent night's sleep. I decided not to eat dinner again, deciding instead to spend the next two hours in research. I sat there, staring away at my monitor, looking up news on Vietnam, learning about the current situation, learning about the issues, the grief, the corruption, the politics - everything. What I learned saddened me. There is so much to say that I honestly cannot write it all, but I will say that my stay here has been more than just teaching English. It has been more than just visiting my grandmother's grave and saying my blessings for her, it is more than revisiting my home village and understanding their way of life, it is more than just an internship for the summer, it is a journey to find truth and forge a relationship that extends beyond politics, nationality, upbringing, and centers on the idea of compassion. This is something that I have thought so so so so so long and hard about these past three years in my life, after finding out the reality of my being, and figuring out who I want to be when I go out in the world and do service. In learning about the struggles and feelings about the country of my ancestry, Vietnam, and in understanding the misunderstandings, I now have even more to say to the Vietnamese American communtiy and the American people about what it means to be in this dilemma, this dilemma of being stuck in the middle, not knowing what identity to call yourself, and not wanting to ally with anything more than goodwill. I've decided that I will talk about this, the Asian American identity when I return, I will be frank and honest about what I've discovered over my life, from the years when I was naive and ignorant of my past, and to now, after having returned to the place where my family ran away from, and now have the courage and understanding to say the truth and do something about it. My heart burns with a fire unlike anything before, a great weight has been set on my heart, an immense sense of responsibility has found its way into my being. I must do something, I must...
        My stomach quaked, I knew I was hungry, but I decided to just wait until lunch. With the hour that I had before, I decided to go around the center, noticing many of the children cooking and tending to their chores. A couple of my brothers stopped me, asking me to stick around with them for a bit. They were happy to have me back again, telling me that they missed me over all those weeks I ate at the other houses, their mother, Ms. Be also telling me that she missed having me play with the boys of the Thanh Truc house. I noticed that the girls from the Anh Dao house were planning something, looking like they were preparing for some kind of party. Today was the birthday of their mother, Ms. Hanh, to which they were planning a surprise birthday party that they wanted to invite me to. They asked me if I had anything to cook their foods with, wondering if I had a stove in my room. "Nope sorry, but I could ask around if I could use the kitchen of one of houses" I replied. They laughed at me, saying not to worry about it and also to show up at seven o'clock during the night to join them for the birthday celebration. "Sure" I said, "see you then!" I then made my way down to the houses of the little children.
        Most of them were gone, only the older sisters and the really young children, such as the new child of the center, Bin (named after me and the cutest thing ever!). Today there was a goodbye ceremony for Ms. Lang, who was actually about to leave the center and be replaced by a new mother. I heard that the reasons were because of the living conditions for the mothers and also because her family did not want her to work in the center anymore. I will speak more about the truth of living conditions about the center tomorrow, as I am currently doing research into the reality of living at the center when volunteers aren't around. I met the older sisters, who were preparing for lunch for the younger children, who would be returning from school to eat lunch, as school lunch isn't served in most schools in Vietnam, due to costs. I found Eve walking around with a visitor from France, coming over to visit the center and learn about its operations. I told Eva about my plans to donate money to the center, to which she told me to wait until the afternoon to discuss the matters.
       It was finally time for the lunch, my brothers waiting for me to take my seat and begin. It has getting easier for the children to want to try their English with me, a lot more of them were eager to ask me how to say certain things in English, though I still realize that I will need to do so much more in order to get them on the level of conversational English. To note, this house cooks the best food, all the children of the center knowing it. "She cooks just like my mom," I told the children, referring to all the delicious food Ms. Be prepares for me. I didn't want special treatment, but she just always insists on giving me it. She told me a special request for the mothers, asking that I should think about contributing something for them, especially after having them cook for me and allowing me to eat at the respective houses. I went back to my room, plenty on my mind about the center.
       I lay in bed for almost an hour and a half, thinking over my plans with the money I was going to donate to the children. I also made a call to Bac Van, and Co Ngoc, concerning an internal issue within the center, centering specfically between the management and the direct servicers of the center, and also with the children. Over the past to days, and also over my six week stay here, I knew there was a power struggle here, a sense of fear. I had to tell both of them, the benefactors in the nonprofit that aids this center. They told at first about the situation in Vietnam, how different it is than living in America, and what issues do come up. They advised me not to talk about it with them until they arrive in the center within the next week. Instead they asked me to write them a letter, documenting any key examples of any wrongdoings. I accepted. I have decided now that I want to interview everyone in the center, asking them to tell me everything they feel, anything they like, anything they hate, anything that they are too afraid to say, asking them to tell me it all, so that I can tell the truth to Bac Van and Co Ngoc. I must expose any wrong doings, it is only right. I already have some experiences of my own that I can talk about, but I will save them for another time. Regardless, I got up at two and began making my way over the library to tutor Nhi, who was the only junior high child at the moment who hadn't been assigned to a school yet.
         The new black dog was moving around the center, much similar to the way that Min did, playing around and such. I still missed Min, but didn't have any reason to hate the new dog, though some children do. I taught for about two hours to Nhi, going over pronunciation as I have with many of the children. Some more of the brothers joined in. During the afternoon around two, I had noticed many of the children had very few tasks to do, telling me about how boring the center was and wishing that they had more freedom to do other things. I really felt that this lesson helped, noticing many lightbulbs click with the children as they finally understood how to pronounce many English words. I have been thinking of a program to teach proper pronunciation to the Vietnamese, and hopefully find a practical way to implement it. At around four, I went down to see if Eve was free, but saw that a large meeting was occuring between guests from the outside and the inside. She told me to wait, giving her about an hour until I could talk. And so I did, going back to my room to finish up one of my books on learning Vietnamese.
        I went to the main office, talking to both Mrs. Minh and Eve, telling them about my intentions with my donation to the center, and also about my intentions to reveal the truth to Bac Van and Co Ngoc about the center. They both agreed with me, but told me to be careful and also that I had to understand how things worked in Vietnam. I still stood firm on my belief to do what is right, and told them that I have no intention of getting anyone in trouble, but have every intention of helping everyone understand each other, as I know loud and clear now that there is a severe issue with power in the center - one that I will reveal soon. They both told me to be careful, but were very encoruaging and thanked me for being who I am.
       The rest of this day was filled with fun and fanfare, me attending two celebrations for two different mothers, one a goodbye party, and the other a birthday party. Both were fun, the children and mothers all welcoming me in. I hadn't told the children and mothers of my intention yet, but the gardener, Bac Hung, knew and he wanted me to let everyone know that I was finally going to fight for them and tell the truth. "You are the only one out of all the volunteers in the past in the center who can do this," he said, "the children trust you, the mothers trust you, I trust you will do the right thing." I promised to him that I would, and indeed I will. The birthday party was amazing to say the least, the girls caring so much for their mother as to deceive her that one of them was sick and told her to come back to the house to see that they had a celebration in store for her. It was great, amazing homemade food, drinks, songs, jokes, everything. I was so touched by their love for their mother and also by their true feelings about her. I was the only male at the table, the sisters trusting me enough to invite me into their household to celebrate with them. I stayed there for a long time, up until nine thirty even, getting to know them and their living situation with their mother. I finally thanked them for the meal, noticing how late the time was, and went back to my room to finish up my entries in my blog and call it a night.
       I've been really waiting for a moment like this. A moment where I can see past the illusion of the place where I work. The truth of which can change this center for the better, more than just money can. What I am talking of is corruption.

#46 - Internal Issues

        I woke up that Monday, not greeted by the friend that I had had for the last six weeks at the center. It left me with a bitter feeling inside. It was around seven, time for me to brush my teeth and go get breakfast from my brothers at the bakery. "You look tired, here's some bread" one of them told me. "Yep, I woke up too many times the night before" I replied, going over to the bread rack and taking along two baguettes. I walked back to my room, hungry and ready to start the day.
        Today was the first day of the school year for the primary and junior high level students. leaving me with no designated class for the morning. During that morning, I did some research into teaching in Vietnam, reading the news like crazy to understand the current situation. And I cannot believe how much I learned, how responsible I have to be to solve many of the difficult issues in the Vietnamese education system and ultimately the divide between the Vietnamese Americans and the Vietnamese. I thought long and hard that morning, not writing anything down, but just thinking, carefully thinking over all the possibilities...
        At around eight thirty, I decided to go and tutor Ron, one of my first friends at the center and a junior at the Hue University of Economics. He wants to go into auditing, but is fearful for his job, as he needs to better his English skills tremendously to impress employers to hire him. He's worked hard over this past month, reading English, listening to music in English, and talking to me in English, asking me questions whenever he had them. He was the prime example of what someone needed to do to work at their English skills in Vietnam, as there are so few opportunities outside paying large sums of money (for the Vietnamese at least) to learn English, especially when many of the language centers methods are slow and not as effective as they should be (which I will address in another entry). I worked with him that morning, going over pronunciation from the alphabet, to vowels, and vowel combinations, knowing that he had been top improper pronunciation his whole life. He learned quick, memorizing my lesson and using it to help him read out sentences to me. We also talked about the center, talking about the next two weeks for me, and our plans to see each other again. "You know Ben, in three years I will be gone from the center, because when we graduate, we have to leave and find a job" he told me. "No worries, I'll find you, and I have your Facebook and phone number" I replied. He smiled, "oh right, sure!"
        Shortly after, the time being about nine forty-five or so, I went to go check in with my brothers at the Thanh Truc house, saying that I would be rejoining them like old times for lunch and dinner. They were delighted, joking to me that I had to pay a fee or do something ridiculous for them to allow me in. I'm going to miss all the jokes, all the play fighting, and all the camaraderie with all of them. They asked me to come back in an hour, and so I went back to my room to relax for a short while, getting up before lunch to think over some more ideas for the center for the coming two weeks.
        This house by far had the best food, everyone in the center even agreeing. And so there we were, having another fine meal like the first two weeks of eating with one another. They gave me a large bowl to eat in, knowing that I ate more that way. They tested their English when they could, asking me how to pronounce their foods in Vietnamese. I knew they trusted me, all the children, all the mothers, everyone, especially since I knew Vietnamese well enough to understand the situation of the center beneath the surface (which I will talk about in the later half of this entry). I stuck around for a bit, talking to the older brothers in English about their time so far, their boredom about waiting until the next month for classes, and what not. "It's boring, we need more freedom" said Than, a sophomore at the Hue University of Agriculture and Forestry. Ly and Yen, two of the older sisters from the nearby house came around the garden, peering in from the window at us. We joked with them a bit, figuring out what they were up to. "One of the sisters, Hong, is sick at the hospital and has been for the last three days," said Yen, "we are both going to visit her today." Hong had recently came back to Hue to find work, she had left the center a while ago after finishing her training for work. I actually did see her the day before, but didn't know who she exactly was. I told them all good bye for the time being, tired and in dire need to sleep.
          I napped for quite a while, about an hour and a half, though still felt a little tired waking up. My next class had to be canceled as well, the children either at school or busy. I found Bac Hung, the gardener and repairman of the center, waiting down at the steps of the little childrens' houses. I talked to him about my plan to donate to the center, to which he told me to talk to each of the houses and have them all come up with a decision. He also requested that I buy two bike pumps for the children, as the one currently is broken. I agreed with him, but also learned a little more about the issue between the workers of the center and Ms. Hong, knowing already that there was tension. "Don't tell her I said this, but there has been a lot of issues over the past years, and no one wants to talk about them" he told me, which to me meant people were fearing for their jobs. He told me some examples of some misdeeds in the past, which prompted me to think more and more about my own witnessing of anything out of line. I thanked him for the talk, and visited the houses of the younger children, playing with the new child, Bin, named after me. He was so cute, two years of age and now just starting to learn Vietnamese. He integrated into the center nicely, all the children loving him, and he loving the children and his mother, Ms. Nga, the newest mother at the moment. 
         I decided I could not linger and play, and so I went up to my room to write and think for the next three hours. At dinner with my brothers, I talked about my travels thus far, telling them how sad I would be when I would leave them on the 27th. "You could just not go home" said Duy, the usual jester of the house. "Yeah, sure I'll do that" I told him, laughing. They were happy to have me back, giving me some special fruit treats after the main meal. I stuck around for a bit more, wanting to catch up on old times and greet Trieu, one of the older brothers who had just returned after a two week project with his geology professor at his university. He looked tired, but happy to be back with his brothers. He also brought his girlfriend back for a little bit, all the brothers teasing him. He told me he wanted to marry her after he graduated, both of them going to the same university and meeting each other freshman year. He asked me for advise, to which I said, "do what you feel is right for both of you." Vietnamese nowadays, I was told, among the poorer people, such as villagers, the normal marriage age was between eighteen and twenty, while for the working class is pushed up to about twenty six or twenty seven. I decided to head back, working on my laptop some more.
         About an hour in, a swarm of about twelve children ran into my room, the power going out. I had a lantern in my room that kept it lit, attracting them over to play and hang out. They wanted to watch a film, but I was busy typing away at my blog. Anh Dao called me that time, asking me to come down at seven fifteen for an important discussion.
        After about thirty minutes, Chinh came up, telling the whole group that they were in trouble and that Mrs. Hong was demanding that they all run down. "Oh no, we're in trouble now!" said the children, all of them frantically running down. "No more visits!" said Chinh, running down with them. That was odd to me, as I had told Mrs. Hong about the children playing in my room before, her not saying that there was any problem the other day... I decided to keep writing, missing my meeting scheduled with Anh Dao, and writing until about eight fifteen. I called her and she said I should come down to talk.
         There definitely was an issue going on, Anh Dao looking sad and unfocused, as if something was seriously bothering her. The other children were quiet, which prompted me to ask them what happened. Mrs. Hong had recently come down, yelling at all of the children about visiting my room, and also yelling at Anh Dao, and telling all the mothers to do so as well. I heard it all finally, the situation with the children and Mrs. Hong, the fear and misunderstanding, the lack of trust and understanding. What had happened is that today, during the meeting with all the mothers and other employees of the center, Mrs. Hong told them that Anh Dao had begged me to buy for her the battery for her laptop (of which was not true at all), and asked all of them to yell at her. I understand the issue of safety, as the center doesn't want the children asking foreigners like myself for anything superficial that they do not need. However, my request to give Anh Dao the battery was not out of wanting to give anything superficial. On the contrary, it was essentially an investment of good will into her future, which at the moment to pursue a Doctorate Degree right after the first four years of college, an amazing feat in Vietnam. However, it seemed that Mrs. Hong saw it incorrectly and lied to all the mothers, creating a rather uncomfortable and stressful situation for Anh Dao, who was unable to study and work on her thesis outline for the whole day. "Ben, you can understand where I am coming from right?" she asked me, "it has been like this for years, the children know it, but no one is going to go and talk to Mrs. Hong about it." She told me not to talk about this issue with Mrs. Hong, saying that it would only make her problem worse. I disagreed.
        Being here for the last six weeks, I did notice there were some internal issues, as there are with any establishment with people. But this of course wasn't just about the children having issues with those with power and authority, but the whole center, the mothers, the gardener, even those working next to the director. "This is something much greater than it may seem and I need to fix it" I told her, "a problem of the center is a problem of mine." I explained to her my reasons, telling her that it was my responsibility to make things right when no one else will take the opportunity. I do understand that I've only been here for six weeks, not nearly the duration that these children have and not having endured and fully understood all the nuances of living here, but I feel I know enough from the children and employees to know that this is a problem that has lasted for a while and is creating a negative environment for everyone. "I will find a solution, just give me time," I told her, the children also listening in on our conversation. Some of them told me to forget about it, others cheering me on, telling me if anyone could solve it, I could. To end our discussion, Anh Dao expressed to me some of her feelings about me and my opportunities in America, saying that she sees my future as bright and with no boundaries. "You have a bright sky ahead of you, and there is nothing limiting you from doing anything in your heart's desire" she said, "I can't do that, I never had the opportunities like you did, I couldn't have done as much service to the world as you have, as in Vietnam, you just don't do those things, there is no money and no opportunity for those kinds of things." I understood her emotions, telling her that I knew that each and everyone of the students here could do equally if not better than I have in America, saying that it of course has to do with the issue of environment. But here was my point about living in a land of opportunity. "What I have learned to understand that is important to living happily is that its not important what types of opportunities are put in front of you, but that you do what ever it takes to take the opportunities that are provided to you, as few as they may be," I said, "if there are none, make them happen, develop your own idea, pursue your own passion in whatever it may be." "I agree with you on that..." she replied, "you are right."
          That night, I stayed up late once again, working and reading into the night as usual, tired as ever, and stirred with a fervor to make things right for the children, the mothers, everybody at the center. I have to make things right.

#45 - Rest in peace my dear friend...

        Sunday was a very emotionally charged day, me enduring a roll coaster of feelings as I heard one thing to the next. That morning, I awoke at around seven, hearing the sounds of the siblings moving around outside. I was still pretty tired that morning, sleeping late at night once again. I got up, greeting Vi, who was cooking some rice congee with chicken. I brushed my teeth and freshened up, noticing my tired looking face in the mirror. Shaking my head, I thought "you really need to take start taking care of yourself." My uncle Phong and his wife had already left, waking up early to tend to morning business, leaving just us children in the house. The son of the family had headed off to a friends house, I was told, so me, Vi, and Nhan all ate together on a table on the front porch of the house. "I wish we had more time, we want to show you around Hue and this area" Vi told me, to which I replied, "we do, I will return when my maternal grandparents come back." We continued to eat and talk, swatting flies with one of the electric fly swatters (it was rather satisfying to here the click of getting one). Eventually, I called my uncle, telling him to take me back to the center before noon to have lunch with the children.
         He was busy that morning, today being a religious holiday honoring the parents in the household, causing many of the villagers of Hai Nhuan to converge upon the central Buddhist temple. "Come join us," my uncle said, prompting Nhan to take me on one of the family motorbikes over to the temple. "Thanks for everything and have a great day!" I told her, waving her off as she road back home. Hundreds of people, dressed in light blue outfits were all huddled up either in or just on the outside of the temple looking in. They were in deep prayer, many of them bowing and praying, listening to the senior monk chant prayers. My uncle Duyet was there, nearby the altar near the temple steps, engaging in the event just like the rest of the people. The smaller children also dressed up, but were running around the temple to play and converse with one another. I decided to take part in the event for just a little bit, bowing to each statue and relaxing in the feeling of comfort and peace. My met my aunt Cam there, who told me to go and set my stuff at her house, and so I did, walking right around the corner of the temple.
         That morning, while waiting for the ceremony to end, I spent researching about the education system in Vietnam, thinking over the ways I could develop a program to improve English language teaching, knowing that this is a bigger issue than I had foreseen in the past. Now I realize the importance of my mission back to Vietnam, not just for the children, but for the whole country, and my responsibility to make things right, to do what others will not, and to do it for free. Those two hours were some of the most enlightening I've had at my stay, due to my current benefit of being to read Vietnamese to some degree, figuring out what exactly I am dealing with. My uncle came back, sweating like crazy, and said "alright, let's go, get your things." I closed my laptop, said goodbye to my relatives, and was off once again, riding the same nostalgic road out of my village. Two more weeks in Vietnam... Just two...
       Rolling into the center, I noticed how quiet it seemed, almost too quiet. I was dropped off in front of the Phung Vi house, one of the houses of the little children. "Ben, Ben, Ben, where have you been, how was the wedding!?" they screamed at me from the house. "It was great, how are all of you?" I asked. At the corner of my eye I noticed a new child of the center, he was cute, about two years of age, and not directly of Vietnamese blood, but of an ethnic minority in Vietnam. "His name is Thiec, but Mrs. Hong has decided to name him after you, Bin," said Tuy, standing at the door. I smiled, greeting the little boy and grasping his soft hands. "You are in the right hands" I thought, smiling at him. And that is when I heard it.
       "Ben, Min is dead!" said Phe, "Min passed away at midnight today." My heart dropped. "You are lying!" I said, "no way, no way, tell me what happened!" And so they told me, all the children huddling around me and letting me know the situation. So throughout my whole stay at the center, Min had an abnormal lump of skin growing out of one of its eyes, threatening to blind the dog if not taken out. Mrs. Hong decided to take the dog to the veterinarian the other day in order to remove it. And so the vets did, and Min was brought home just fine, or so it seemed. However this was not the case, as hours later, Min was seen to have blood running out of its mouth and its movement slow and weak. Min was rushed back to the vet's office, hoping to be saved, but in the end, Min was lost. A new dog, a small black one, was brought to the center by Mrs. Hong to replace Min, many of the children disliking the dog at the moment. What I will say is that hearing about the loss of my cherished friend, one that had not even reached one year of age, during my stay at the center is about as heart breaking as it had gotten for me at the center. It was one thing to see Quyen, Phuoc, and Vung leave the center the last few weeks, but having a death is a whole different story. I spoke to all the children down there, also updating them on how the wedding was back at the village. I took a slow long walk back up to my room, staring out at all the locations Min used to run at, playing in the plants, biting at this and that, and running after me as I walked up and down the center. The older brothers and sisters were in their houses eating lunch and so I decided not to disturb then, quietly walking back to my room and set my things aside.
        When I got into my room, I remembered strongly the smell of Min, the places in my room where it would run around and try to bite its tail, and the little mat and towel that it slept on when it stayed overnight in my room those few days ago. I let out a sigh and sat in my bed, thinking over those fond memories with that dog, knowing that I had to at least give it the honor of my remembrance. I looked at the time and noticed that I had to get down to eat with the children, though I payed a stop at Mrs. Hong's house to hear the story from her side. She told me it all, saying that she cried all morning, and brought him a dog that was once hers, given away, and now taken back. She didn't know what to name it and gave that honor to me. "I don't know what to say, I'm speechless" I told her, "I need to go have lunch, let's talk later." And so she waved me off as I began my slow walk back down to the Phung Vi house.
       Mrs. Thao, the previous mother of that house returned, bringing home her wedding photos in giant picture frames for the children to see, all of them admiring her and her husbands beauty and commenting on their outfits, one frame of traditional clothes, and another in the more Western look. I decided not to talk anymore about Min that lunch, saving that discussion for later on, and focusing on catching up with the children. "Ben, it was boring without you swimming the other day, and even when not swimming its boring" said Phi. Them telling me this is just a precursor to the pain that we will endure when we say our goodbyes. I know it will hurt, but that is of course the nature of life and the result of separating a bond that has been forged over these last six weeks, and soon to be eight. After finishing up lunch, Phi, Phe, Luong, Binh, and Chinh followed me up to my room, asking if they could watch a film with me and relax. "Sure why not?" I told them, seeing as how Ms. Nga and Ms. Lang, their mothers, gave them permission.
        The next four hours into the afternoon were nothing but relaxation and thinking. I thought over the loss of Min, but also about my plans for the center these last two weeks. After the children left to go sign paperwork at school at around three, I spent an hour cleaning the whole room and doing laundry, giving me some peace for a small moment of the day. At around five, Mrs. Hong called me as I was planning out my lesson for Monday, asking me to eat with her family for the night. I agreed and walked down to the Phung Vi house to tell them my plans. I saw my brothers and sisters from the houses up near my room, all of them still reacting to the loss of Min, some more than others. They greeted me back, hugging me, and asking me to stay for a bit to talk. And so I did, talking and joking with them, and finally made my way to Mrs. Hong's house.
         The power went out about an hour into waiting for the food to be cooked, her daughter doing the cooking while she talked with two friends that came up to ask her about the center. I ate early, Mrs. Hong busy for most of the dinner. The moon was bright tonight, causing for us to not even need to have lighting outside. It was beautiful, perhaps symbolic in some way. Mrs. Hong asked to speak with me outside.
         For the next half hour or so, I spoke with Mrs. Hong, her asking many questions about my feelings about the center. I told her exactly what I felt about it, my feeling of responsibility in servicing the country of my roots, and my happiness that I have found living in the center. I told about my plans to donate to the center in the future, asking her for many different things, and planning to work with the employees in the following weeks to straighten out these ideas. She asked me if the center needed anything else, and I paused. "I'm thinking about that right now, as I find no major problems at this time to point out" I told her, though I realize while writing this that there are definitely issues to bring up. Some odd that I noticed while talking to her is that a bright orb of light following what looked to be a power line floated up behind her, as she talked, my eyes watching the orb as it glided from one tree to the next tree, and finally along the wall and behind the bakery house. "How odd?" I thought, "am I seeing things?" I continued my conversation with Mrs. Hong, the power eventually being restored and cries of happiness erupting from the center. I bid her goodbye and headed down to the younger childrens' houses, spending some time with them and tutoring some more children in English.
          Tomorrow is the first day of school for many of the children, marking an end of a consistent schedule of teaching. This does pose a small challenge for me, but nothing I cannot find a way to work around. I walked up in the darkness, opening my room, and staying up late once again, reading and thinking over the day. As I lay in bed, just about to close my eyes to sleep, I starred back at the mat I placed in front my the bathroom door in my room where Min used to sleep. I imagined it laying there, curled up into a little ball, resting peacefully. "Rest in peace my dear friend..." I said, then covering myself with my blanket and letting exhaustion guide me to sleep. I will never forget...

#44 - "Run, run far away"

        We all had to get up early that morning, the flight back to Saigon scheduled for eight thirty. My grandfather and Uncle Vien woke me up, the time being at around five or so. I got around four hours of sleep that night, not nearly the amount that I needed, but just like in college, you just persevere (though I honestly do realize I do need to sleep more). I got up tiredly, washing my face in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and sitting with my grandfather and my uncle. Today about six people were heading to Ho Chi Minh City, my aunt Yen to stay in Ho Chi Minh city for six days. My aunt Ha was also going to meet them there, and also going to stay for six days. My grandfather, aunt Danh, and her son also came along, hoping to meet Aunt Ha and spend a week with them in Ho Chi Minh City. I be honest I've never been able to experience a day in Saigon, only having seen the airport and ate at a restaurant. I will have a day there before I fly back to America though. Anyways, on to this sunny Saturday.
        We went up stairs, all of us, to have breakfast. The hotel had a wide spread of Vietnamese foods, all delicious and familiar. I served my grandfather his meal, him asking to choose what I thought he would like. I choose one of everything. He ate it all, saying that it was a good meal, and asked me to get him a glass of hot tea. His health was getting better than before, my family members told me, though he still had pains in the soles of his feet, making it difficult to walk at times due to the pain. I walked him down to the room of the larger group, all of them either out eating at a restaurant outside or getting ready to leave. They ended up finding my sunglasses and money, which to all of our surprise was underneath one of the suitcases the whole time (I have no idea how they ended up there). Nevertheless, I was happy, as was everyone else, and we all hopped into a van and headed towards Phu Bai Airport.
       We came with about thirty minutes to spare, saying our goodbyes, and sharing one last drink and meal with those that were leaving. I told my aunt Yen that I would come visit her when I had some free time, though I am not sure when that will be. And so they left, all six of them. The rest of us, about ten, all piled up in the van or ride motorbikes back to Hue. Upon arriving back at that familiar hotel, we called a taxi to take me, my cousins Hung and Kiem, as well as one of my aunts and her baby, back to the home village.
        We took that same familiar ride back to the village, seeing the same beautiful and peaceful sights as before, the sand dunes as we rolled under the big entrance gate into Hai Nhuan. Hai Nhuan is part of the Phong Hai commune, a commune of a number of nearby villages, numbering between five to eight (I forget the number). First stop, grandfather's house.
        My grandfather's housemaid was there, waiting for me the whole time and asking me if I wanted to eat or drink anything. "Nope, I just need some sleep"I told her, setting my things on the same mattress that I slept on when I first returned to Vietnam. I let out a sigh and relaxed. I was home at last. This morning was rather peaceful, the villagers quiet for the morning, a power outage causing many to stay inside from the intense heat. The heat didn't bother as I slept, just feelings of the comfort of being back enough to allow me to sleep. My uncle Thanh, my dad's older brother, arrived, greeting me, and telling me that he and his sons have been pouring cement for a tomb for the last few days. He was tired, stressed it seemed, his skin dark as ever from working out in the sun. That morning, from about nine to twelve or so, I slept, catching up on the hours I lost the night before.
        Before eating, I took a bucket shower, and how refreshing that was. One of the villagers came into the house, noticing that I had returned. She talked to my grandfather's housemaid, who I will now address as Bà (has accent on it which means madam). She told me that she saw me on T.V. the other day, asking me my take on coming back to Vietnam and doing service. This is something that everyone has asked me, making me wonder if they regularly even see Vietnamese come back to do service. Bà told me that my grandfather cried when he saw me on T.V., telling me that most of the village had seen it two days ago. I couldn't help but smile, scratching my head and saying that it was undeserved. Finishing a refreshing lunch, I decided to go visit my uncle Xuyen's house, sitting on his front porch and cooling off with the southern winds. The beach was beautiful, so iconic of my village, but a place that I was not able to go to this day.
        I sat on the porch with my uncle Xuyen, his wife, and a child of one of my uncle's sons. I talked about the wedding before, my last two weeks not coming back to Hai Nhuan, and my feelings thus far on Vietnam. I knew there was an internal squabble between the siblings, my aunts and my uncles, but I decided to leave that conversation out of this one. They were happy to see me, telling me that they would buy me food to bring back to my parents when I got back to America. I then threw out the question to my uncle Xuyen about my father's past, especially when my father made the decision to leave Vietnam in 1980. Wow. I learned so much in that thirty minute talk with uncle Xuyen.
        Many of them left in my paternal family, my aunts and uncles all hoping to achieve the freedom that they thought would liberate them from the poor life in Vietnam, and give them a brighter future. "Things back then were tough, not like they are now," he told me, "it is still hard, but back then was almost unbearable." He told me about how dangerous the many different routes was to Hong Kong, telling me that they could take between a week to even months, depending on many different factors. "Fuel was always a big concern, food, typhoons, pirates, police, boat stability - anything could happen and did" he told me. In 1980, my father and his siblings decided to make the trip, ran out of fuel after a day and went back to shore to get fuel. Well... they were caught and taken out, beaten, and put into jail. "Your dad told me to run, run far away," my uncle Xuyen told me, "and I did, making it eventually to Saigon, not having to endure three months in jail." Tears, lots of them he told me. The women and men on that boat trying to escape were beaten viciously, he told me, many of my aunts fearing for their lives and crying. He then talked about my father's second attempt in 1991 with my mother. "Your mom was pregnant with you when you went, so you essentially made the journey with all of us" he told me. Goodness... I had never ever been told that, that my mom took the journey pregnant... "Well, how many people took the trip and how did you all make it?" I asked him. "Lots, we got lucky, very lucky," he replied, "many times we almost were overtaken by weather and waves, and we eventually ran out of food, having to stop at a coastal village in China to exchange our gold and valuables for food and oil to continue the journey." "Upon making it near the camp, a nearby ship helped us get over to the camp, a massive hole in the boat threatening to sink and drown all of us" he continued." I couldn't stop him, I needed to hear it all. "Out of all of the siblings in the family, only your father made it out, all of us were sent back to Vietnam," he said, "your father's English was very good, and his knowledge and passion were convincing enough of the immigration authorities to allow him to cross, taking you, your uncle, and your mother with him." At that point, I couldn't help but sit there and think about all the things my father had been through, all the sacrifices, all the pain, but also the brilliance in him that allowed him to successfully immigrate us to the U.S. Before I could ask more, my uncle Xuyen got some important phone calls from a friend, which prompted me to say goodbye to the family and head back to my grandfather's house.
        Bà said that she was going to Saigon with my Uncle Xuyen, saying that I had about three hours until the trip, and that I would have to find another place to sleep. My cousin Vi, daughter of my uncle Phong (my dad's younger brother), came up with her brother to visit me, asking me about how my trip was and inviting to come hang out with the family for the day. I agreed, though did not leave quite yet, Vi having to drive her brother to day school. Some daughters of the nearby households came over, all wanting to hang out in my grandfather's house and talk to me. And so we did, playing little games,. joking about everything, and playing with anything we could find. After about thirty minutes of waiting, Nhan, another daughter of my uncle Phong arrived, ready to take me to their house. I waved the children and Bà goodbye, taking my things along with me.
        It was relaxing and fun, the rest of the day with the three children of Uncle Phong. The eldest daughter, Bong, had arrived in America a year ago, actually living in my household for a short period of time before moving off to somewhere else. Vi is deciding to attend the Hue University of Foreign Languages, ultimately to attend a college in Japan, her birthplace. "I am currently studying Japanese in order to apply to programs overseas to allow me to study at a University there," she said, "I want to work and live there when I get older." Her older sister, Nhan, around my age as well, is currently in her second year of the Hue College of Nursing, hoping to work at a hospital in Hue after her studies. Their younger brother of the family is currently about to start high school, going to school in a nearby commune. They were excited to see me, telling me that they saw me on television the other day, and heard plenty about me. We talked about our families, the squabbles between the siblings (our parents), and about what they did on their free time in the summer. "You know what," said Vi, "let's go out tonight, all of us, eat some food, go to a cafe, and eat more food." I agreed, and so for that night, we went everywhere, the four of us, trying at least eight different kinds of food and spending a short while at a cafe.
        I slept in their house that night, staying in the room with the air conditioning, typing away and reading until one in the morning. Man, I need to sleep more...

#43 - Roses and Smoke

         Today was the wedding day, my first attendance of a traditional Vietnamese wedding in my life. On this rather bright and sunny Friday, everyone seemed to be in good spirits, including myself. Nhat got up before me, heading up to the room with all my aunts, the groom, and the sons and daughters. The time was about six o'clock, giving us about three hours until our bus ride down to Hai Nhuan for the wedding. This would be the first time I had gone back to my home village in two weeks, having traveled to so many places. I pulled out my outfit for the wedding, realizing how wrinkled my dress pants and button down shirt looked. "No big deal" I thought, showering, eating some breakfast upstairs with a bunch of tourists, and getting dressed up to head up to the room with the rest of the wedding goers.
         Many of my aunties were gone, they had apparently gone to go get dressed and put on make up, leaving a few of my cousins and the three babies of my aunts. I had lost my sunglasses and money pouch the other day, prompted concern from all my aunts, all asking around the guests to see if anyone had seen it. I checked the entire room - nothing. "Hmm... well hopefully I end up finding it," I thought, "no big deal though, its just a pair of sunglasses and around ten dollars worth of Vietnamese Dong." Well it was certainly a big deal to all my aunts and my relatives, all of them looking around and even asking each other if they had seen it, as they had remembered me setting my glasses down in the room the other day. I decided not to let it get to me, focusing instead on the day at hand, a traditional wedding back in my home village.
       The groom and his wife, named Thuy, came in the room, along with Thuy's family members and my aunts and cousins. The groom, my cousin Thong, had not gotten his suit yet, frantically getting some money and heading off with Ken, and another one of my cousins, to get suits for themselves. I actually got my shirt ironed before we left, which was probably a good idea! The aunts shook their heads, as they were all ready to go, saying that we had less than thirty minutes to get ready. We eventually gathered all our things and headed down as a group, calling a taxi-bus to take all sixteen of us. The guys eventually got back with their rented suits, quickly putting them on and hopping on the van with us. Finally, we were off to the wedding, which was scheduled at around 10:30 in the morning.
        The ride over was rather peaceful, I decided to read and sleep, also thinking about what I was about to witness, wondering what rituals or traditions that the bride and groom would have to engage in. Everyone was excited, though many of them would be staying only for this one day, and then head back to Hue for the rest of the day. I honestly wasn't sure what to do, as my aunt Yen had invited me to spend a day with her in Hue, as she wanted too to head back after the wedding. Decisions... Decisions... I love going back to the village, as everyone is so friendly, so inviting of me to come in and share some time with them, but I also want to get to know my relatives even more, getting every detail about their lives and stories, especially my relatives who made the trip as boat people to the same Hong Kong refugee camp that I and my parents went to. Upon arriving into the village, seeing the familiar architecture and vibrant colors, I decided to leave that thought aside for after the wedding, which was right about to start.
       The groom attached his rose corsage, also handing his wife Thuy, a bouquet of roses, lining up side by side. The family members of the two lined up behind them, from grandfathers to children, one family behind their son or daughter. My cousins Nhat and Ken both held two bright red paper lanterns, inscribed with Chinese/Vietnamese characters (Vietnamese used the Chinese writing system for during and slightly after the 1000 years of Chinese occupation of Vietnam until the current Romanized script introduced by the French) and with pictures of children on them. I decided to stay out of the line and film, recording the line of people, all of them probably full of emotion and focused to show the many wedding guests, about a hundred people, their best. And so it began, the announcer in the distance crying out a speech about what was about to take place, the wedding celebration to be held in the household of the groom's family. In Vietnam, as I said in previous article, a wedding follows a strict pattern, with several traditions that have to be done until the final event of the wedding itself, which must occur at the groom's family's household.
        As we entered through the small gate into the dining area, which was packed with decorated tables, chairs, and everything else, we were greeted by all the wedding guests, family members within the village all showing up to the wedding. I paused at the front, filming everything, looking at all the guests to see if I recognized any of them, and also looking at the beautifully decorated stage, where the announcer was continuing his speech. All the men and women were dressed up, and I did not notice any children, other than the babies of my aunts there. As I panned my camera around, I did notice that many of the villagers would stare or point at me, talking amongst themselves. It was a little unnerving, though I had an idea of what they were talking about. My uncle, Duong Vien, my aunt Danh's husband, greeted me, shaking my hand and asking me what I thought. "Well, it's beautifully decorated and everyone seems happy" I told him, also greeting some of the entering guests as they walked in. I took a peek into the house, noticing tons of food already prepared, tons of my favorite dishes. "Oh this is going to be amazing!" I thought, thinking of all the delicious foods I was about to engorge myself with, to which Vietnamese weddings are always full of.
        I found my seat eventually, looking on as the bride and groom, and their families, entered the their house and waited near their altar to the ancestors, asking for permission to wed and saying their blessings. Now we could begin the ceremony. Music was plentiful, tunes from old Vietnamese folk songs and even the wedding carol everyone knows about was played, the announcer energizing the room. Some fireworks went off, leaving a trail a smoke that eventually revealed two banners representing the importance of marriage in a Vietnamese's life. Many of my relatives noticed me and grabbed me, telling me that I was shown on television the other day and that everyone was talking about it. I blushed and shook my head, laughing a bit as well. When the rings were presented, the ceremony finished, the vows said, and everything else, the entertainment began. Singing, lots of it. The announcer started it up with one of his favorite songs, drawing applause from the crowd, who was now being served all the delicious wedding food. The children of the center asked me to bring them up some food, telling me of all their favorites. I told them I would try, though after realizing that I would have no way to transport it, gave up on the idea.
        So many people sang, one person after another being called up by close friends and family to sing. My aunt Cam sang a song, to which I was told to give her a rose (an traditional act of showing appreciation for the singer). I went up on stage, took a photo with her, and sat back down. Right as I was sipping my orange juice from my cup, I heard my name being called up to sing, my aunt calling me up. "Oh no..." I thought, and replied to the request by shaking my head and saying that "I don't know any Vietnamese songs to sing." I was embarrassed at that moment, ashamed for my lack of singing ability in Vietnamese, but still was firm in my decision to not sing. They moved on to another song, giving me a chance to give a breath of relief. The wedding went on for the next two hours, people enjoying each other, toasting to this and that, and applauding all the brave people who went up on stage to sing. To them this was normal, singing in front of an audience, but to me, coming from the American culture of which practiced singers are the ones who perform, it was... different.
       It finally ended, all the guests telling the two families their regards and heading on home. At last, peace and quiet. My paternal grandfather was sitting up with the other elders at the time, but called me up to talk with him earlier and after the wedding. He and some family members from the village were actually going to go to Ho Chi Minh City (formally Saigon) the following day, and were going to head up to Hue. I made the decision to go with them, my aunts, cousins, and other relatives back up to Hue for the day to see them off at the airport the next morning, and then returning to Hai Nhuan the following day. To my surprise, my Aunt Yen decided to stay at the village for a while longer, me finding out that it had to do with family members and sending her regards to her mother, my paternal grandmother who was lost three years ago.
        We took the same bus back to Hue, my grandfather sitting at the front of the van this time. Everyone was calm, relaxed, ready to take a break for the day. For the rest of the day in Hue, I spent my time with my grandfather and aunts, who rested for most of the day, my cousins Nhat, Ken, Thong, and others going out to buy clothes and play around the city. At one point, I went to go with them and my grandfather to the Big C Supermarket to eat the KFC up there. It was hilarious what they said to my grandfather, joking about his handsomeness and if he wanted to pick up a girl. I merely smiled along. At one point two Vietnamese girls walked by our group, laughing and staring back at us, to which Nhat reacted to my grandfather by saying "do you want her number? I can get it for you." My grandfather chuckled as well, telling him that he was beyond those years, jokingly scolding Nhat for asking him that question. We all laughed together, eating our hot chicken wings and fries (I could not believe I was eating fries of all things in Vietnam...). We headed back to the Gold 2 Hotel, the same hotel we had been staying at, and got on with our activities for the rest of the day.
        During the night, of which I spent in a separate room with my grandfather, I read and surfed the web, talking to some friends from college, and thinking about the day. My grandfather was asleep, the room smelled of smoke, as my grandfather decided to smoke another cigar before bed. The T.V. was on, with cartoons. The room was cool and cold, the sounds of Hue nightlife going on outside. At about midnight, I decided to call it a night. However, an unexpected guest showed up in the room right as I got into bed. It was my uncle Vien, who had made the trip up to see my grandfather and aunts off, his wife included. He decided to sleep in my room, telling me that it was too crowded with the twelve or so people in the hotel room upstairs. I decided to speak to him, getting to know him and also talking about my ideas and realizations about Vietnam. So for the next hour into the night, I sat and talked to him, my grandfather quietly snoozing away.
      What I had learned really opened my eyes that night. Uncle Vien talked about my father's history, telling me of how my father cares about Vietnam and his family in the home village. "Ben, your father's has had a poor life" he told me. "He made so many sacrifices and took every chance to trying to help our families in the home village" he said, "and he still has called back every single year to check in to see if he can help in anyway. He told me my father was afraid that the younger generation of Vietnamese Americans would forget about the home village, forget about the traditions, and not send any aid back, leaving the older generation to starve and suffer. He continued. "You know your father made his first attempt to leave Vietnam in 1980, when he was 17, but what you probably don't know after that is what happened to him after he got out of prison after getting caught" he said. He told about my father's life in the military, telling me how high in rank in military my father got, and also told me how my father set back his golden military medals back to the home village, for his relatives to sell and use for their lives. I was speechless. I let him continue my father's history. "After three years in the military, your father moved into Nha Trang and found his first wife, having two children, and working in a manufacturing company to make clothes for the military" he told me. After four or so years, he left Nha Trang for Hue, wedding my mother, and eventually making the perilous journey that led to our current life in America. "You know, when I listen to people talk about my father, it just reminds me of how little I know, and how misunderstood I was my whole life about my country, my family, and my culture" I told him, emotion started to take me over as thought over my father's life.
           "I'd love to talk some more, but I'm tired, let's talk tomorrow" he said, laying back down. I laid back into my bed, staring at the ceiling, and thinking. Finally I let out a sigh and decided to call it a night at last. I wonder what my father's reaction will be when he reads this entry later today... I'll give him a call soon.

#42 - Money Changes You

        It seems that every week, my family tree grows and grows. Coming back to Vietnam, getting in contact with so many relatives has been refreshing and eye opening, revealing to me the truth of the Vietnamese family, the remnants of the older generation. It also reminds of how important it is not only to know the language, but having a desire to want to understand the will and traditions of the older generation, as living so far away often blinds the new generation from understanding their roots. This Thursday, I met some very interesting family members, many of which for the first time in my life. My goodness, I learned so much.
        That morning, it was another one of the swimming days with the children, our last one before the start of the school year for many of the younger children. To celebrate the end of this summer, many of us decided to go, totaling over thirty individuals. Min did decide to sleep over the other night, now seemingly a new member of my room. Again, my uncle was busy this morning, causing me to have to run down and ask for the gardener, Bac Hung, to take me over with his son to the swimming center. Being heading off, I went over to the bakery school to ask my older brothers some breakfast. I was handed an enormous, freshly baked French baguette, and also a bowl of eggs, ham, and herbs to stuff the baguette with. Yum! I went to my room and grabbed one of my gigantic plastic water bottles and ran on down to meet the children, who were already about to leave.
        It was cloudy today, which meant that the pool would end being cold, just like it was the other day. On the ride over, as long as it did feel as Bac Hung takes a different route to the swim center, I thought over my lesson today with the children, wondering what could I teach the junior high students that would be most effective. Upon reaching the center, I hopped off the motorbike and sat on one of the hammocks near the parking lot, swaying back and forth, until my brothers and sisters on their bikes came over. We walked in together, huddling in front of the entrance and playing around with one another.
        Another peaceful and enjoyable day at the pool. I have gotten much better at swimming thus far, able to swim in different strokes now and working on teaching the children who can't swim the right methods. There were no more fights anymore, just plain old fun, lots of splashing, racing, and play. Every now and then I would joke with the children that I was drowning and needed them to save me, though, most of the time none of them believed me. The whistle blew within fifteen minutes of the end of our swim time, causing nearly all the children to hop out of the pool and run down to the showers.
I took a deep breath and swam one last lap, pulling myself out of the pool and running down with them.
        On the way back with Bac Hung once again, he took us out on the same odd route he always takes me on, giving me diverse and beautiful look at the ward of Thuy Xuan in Hue. Upon pulling into the center, I walked on up to my room to relax, doing my laundry and mopping up my room, which had smelled from all of the children and the dog running around the floor. About an hour later, I walked on down, hungry and tired, but even more hungry. To my surprise they had a bag of about twenty old baguettes from the brothers at the baking school, and so we had to split them up amongst the house and eat them. Upon entering the house, most of the children greeted me, shouting "Ben, are you hungry yet!?" I went off into the kitchen, seeing Hop, Dao, and Tuy finishing up with cooking lunch. "Long time no see Tuy!" I told her, as she stir-fried the veggies for lunch. She only let out a small style, and on her face I could see sadness. I walked back to my little red table where I normally sat with the younger children of the house. The children served out all the food, Tuy picking me up from my chair and taking my seat, saying not a single word. It was a delicious lunch, but what struck me was Tuy sadness over... something... I tried to talk with her, asking about her day, and when she would go back to school. She only gave flat responses and eventually teared up and went back to her room after only one bowl of rice (which is extremely little). The children starred at me, trying to also figure out why Tuy was sad. I finished up the meal and walked over to the sink to place my bowl. Eventually Tuy walked up behind me, getting ready to wash the plates. "So why the long face? What's troubling you?" I asked her. "Nothing, I'm just tired" she said, getting straight to work. "Well, don't be sad because you'll make me even sadder, cheer up" I said to her, patting her on the back and walking out towards the entrance of the house. We finished up cleaning the mess from lunch and the children gave me a slice of jackfruit to bring up to my room, Phe and Phi rejoining me once again up to my room to nap.
        The hour after the nap, and also until my class with the university students and the junior high students was a storm of a planning session. I wrote quickly, jotting down notes vigorously as I thought of examples to teach pronunciation of vowels and vowel combinations in English, something that the children need much help in. Since reading out loud is something the children are not experienced in, I took the time to plan out a full two hours session firmly in speaking and pronunciation.
        Goodness this was a brilliant idea, as the children got so much confidence in themselves to be able to read any way I wrote in front of him. If only I could find away to teach this to the Vietnamese public high school students who also need this kind of the teaching. When the time came for class to be over, I made a quick stop to the local snack store and bought some sweets for all the children at the center. The reason is because the following day was the wedding of my aunt Danh's son, Thong. I was invited and practically required to go. Thus, to celebrate the day before the wedding, I went to go visit the hotel where my Aunt Yen from Australia lived (my brother's little sister). After about an hour of relaxing back in my room, I called a taxi to take me over to the "Gold 2 Hotel."
       What a feeling it was to finally see her atop the top floor of the hotel. There was a power outage, so Aunt Yen and many of my family members came over to see her, my grandfather included. She was excited to see me, saving a seat just for me and wanting to talk to me for so long. This is the first time I have ever seen her in my life. A little history about her, she made the trip to Hong Kong with my parents in 1991, making it successfully to the country of Australia, along with her older sister and my other aunt, Aunt Ha, or Ao Ha.To say the least, she was well off, sporting many valuable jewelry items on herself, four rings in one hand, a bracelet and a necklace, all top quality items. She owns a farm in Australia that does very well, her starting the business many many years ago and worked her way up to the top. She had a big smile on her face, getting up to hug me and asking me about my life thus far. And so I let her know, my feelings about my family, my return home, and my plans for my future. My grandfather and the other family members sat there, listening to us both talk to one another. Aunt Yen was respected on one sided of the family, and had familial problems with the other, to which I now know, and even get a headache over when I think about how trivial some of the arguments are. Anyways, she spoke with me for that hour or so, giving some money for my birthday she couldn't come to, and invited me to stay the night and spend the day with her and her family (her son Ken and recently born baby girl named Sierra had come as well).
         Boy was the hotel crowded in that 303 room, about ten people inside there. At first, I set down all my things, played with the children (three babies from three different mothers were there) and relaxed, getting to know my Aunt and my other family members from my paternal grandfather's side, knowned as Noi in Vietnamese.  Eventually they invited me out to eat at a vegetarian restaurant with them, my many aunts taking me there. What a crazy day that ensued after that meal.
        My cousin Thong was about to marry a girl from Australia, as I mentioned above. The wedding was scheduled for the following day, and so he came up with us in this room to see my Aunt Yen. His opportunity to go to Australia is partially due to the connection of Aunt Yen with the family of the girl he is marrying, named Thuy, who lives in Australia. He brought me out for coffee, taking one of the son's of one of my aunts along. We sat outside the Perfume River at a cafe, me sipping coconut juice and eating chocolate flavored cookies resembling Oreos. I talked to Thong about his feelings about marriage, and said that his marriage to an foreigner is going to open doors for him, giving him the opportunity to make good money to send back to help his family in Vietnam. Hmm... this seems to be similar to someone that I know... Before this, Thong graduated as an telecommunications engineer from Da Nang University of Engineering, working for a short while, and eventually finding this girl from Australia. We talked for a long time in that cafe, me telling him about my philosophy about Vietnam and service for mankind. He was impressed, telling me that I should keep doing my best with my opportunities in America. We eventually had to leave, going to go pick up my Aunt Ha's son, Nhat, a twenty four year old middle son in the family.
        Well, I can say that it had been a long time sense I had met someone with the audacious character like Nhat. He had a thick Australian accent, just like Ken (Aunt Yen's son), and had quite the ego. Let's just say he is rich, very rich, saying to me that he spent more than a thousand dollars in one day alone in Saigon, where he has been residing in for the last month. "I have a year off college to do whatever I want, and I want to travel" he told me. He was hungry, telling us to stop by a nearby restaurant to eat and chat. We went to a restaurant specializing in goat, eating some delicious offerings of goat and chatting amongst ourselves. It was, to say the least, interesting to hear Nhat talk about his experience in Saigon thus far, telling us that "Saigon has everything, you just need the money." He went on that whole ride back about himself, talking about how much money he left back in Saigon and how much he can get in an instant after a phone call to his mother. What a character...
         We eventually joined back with the hotel, everyone greeting one another and Nhat into checking a separate room with me for the night. During the night when we got back, I opened Skype for my mother, brother, and father to see Aunt Yen and the rest of us. They were so happy to see one another, my dad with a bright smile on his face. We talked for the next hour, talking about everything, family issues, successes, and jokes. I at last returned to my room with Nhat, who was not home yet at the time and typed into the night. Nhat did finally return, telling me he just got back after hanging out with "the guys" for the night.
           Well, we talked for a long time into the night. I got a really good idea of the guy Nhat was, his lifestyle, and his woes sometimes about his lack of direction. He did want to graduate with a college degree, which is to be in Forensic Psychology at the moment, though he doesn't know where he wants to go with it. He talked a lot about how easy life was in Australia, saying that everything is "basically handed to me." Though I know the living standards in Australia is among the highest in the world, I still need to see it myself to confirm, though Nhat said he would pay for me to come over anytime I would like. "You know Ben, if your father had chosen to come to Australia instead of the U.S., he would be rich by now" he told me, staring me straight in my eyes. I looked at him for a second, and then looked away. Part of me thought of that possible reality, but another part thought of how rich we already are, the richness that my family shares in its sense of compassion and duty to helping others, something that I now realize runs in the blood of my parents and me. That very essence is what makes us live without desire for anything more than a peaceful relationship with our friends and family. We talked a little bit further, him asking me many questions about America and my feelings on the economy, telling me more and more about how easy life is in Australia. "What if...?" I thought once again, once I told him good night. "No... you aren't missing out on anything" I continued in my head, "a heart of gold and understanding is perhaps more priceless than all the dreams and riches I could ever desire." And it is true. Money changes you, even Nhat said it himself, once being poor, but now living the fast and rich life. I know undoubtedly that it would have changed the outcome of the person I now am today, perhaps for the worst.

#41 - A Big Deal

           Time is winding down. Every now and then I think about how little time I have left to make an impact here. Over night, the dog decided to sleep over in my room, Mrs. Hong saying that Min was now my responsibility and even jokingly told me to bring Min to America. Its squeak-like yawn in the morning woke me up, right about half past six. Mrs. Hong again, going for her morning stroll around the center, called for me to let Min out, to which I did, and went back to sleep for another hour. For breakfast this morning, I ate a pack of chocolate cookies and a carton of Ovaltine chocolate milk, typing away on my laptop and looking up ideas to teach my first class of the day, the high school students.
          This morning was cloudy, the center quiet, and still. I went around to check up all the houses, wondering why there were so little sandals outside of each house. "Most of the children have gone to school this morning to pay off fees and receive paperwork," said Than, one of my brothers from the Thanh Truc house. So many people left that I essentially didn't have any high school students to teach, as all of them left. Instead, I went around to each house, asking children individually if they wanted me to teach them any form of English grammar. Three of them were free, and joined me. They included: Yen, Bang, and Van, all university students now, except for Bang who is now a junior in college. There goes another preplanned lesson I have to move on to the next day...
        The class was fine, me spending a great deal of time on tenses, as many of the children told me they had trouble understanding some of them, and also coming up with sentences using the different tenses. The difference between the Quoc Hoc students, Yen and Van, and the non-Quoc Hoc students was dramatic. The QH students' understanding of English was essentially five times more than that of their peers at the center, the students knowing how to read, write, hear, and think in English, something that all Vietnamese now wish to have. Bang, having not been a QH student in her high school days, suffered from years of low quality English teaching, thus coming to me for the last couple days to help her prepare essays and speeches for her English class at a language center. During the for the second half of the class, Yen, who is attending the Hue University of Foreign Languages, asked me to explain the differences between American and British English. Oh goodness... Other than the difference in pronunciation and dialect, I knew nothing about the differences on the spot. Good thing there's the internet, as I pulled out my laptop and taught from the web. There was way too much to teach, and so I told them I would plan for next week to pick out some of the more important differences. Right towards the end of the class, two cameramen walked in, asking to interview more of the children that got accepted into college (the children told me that this happens all around Vietnam, as getting accepted to college is a big deal in Vietnam). "Well, famous people (referring to Yen and Van), go on and get changed for your interview, class is done for the day" I told them, organizing all my stuff to head out of the library.
           "Can I have your autograph!?" I told Yen, joking with her. "I don't want to be famous, not for the wrong reasons" she replied, laughing at me. Yen has been interviewed many times over this last month, telling her interviewers that she plans to devote her time to philanthropy, especially to this center, after settling down with a job. She wants to travel to other countries, hoping to understand the cultural differences between East and West. In some ways, she is similar to me, wanting to travel to here and there to truly develop a sense of humanity, a sense of understanding, and a sense of compassion for the world's people. There are so few overseas opportunities for the Vietnamese students, money of course being the biggest factor. If only I could think of something... As much as I try not to factor money into the equation of philanthropy, it always comes back into the argument. However, my goal will ultimately not be won by money, but by inspiration of others to adopt the problems of others as their own, much as how I hang a large debt over my head for tremendous luckiness in every aspect. I let them have some privacy to their interviews, walking back to my room and relax.
        By this time, many of the students had begun coming back, plastic folders in their hands with documents and clothes patches to put on their school uniforms. "High school starts in two weeks, and junior high starts in next week," said Long, "summer's almost over..." My two brothers walked back into their house, me walking on down to the house of the little children to spend some time with them.
"Ben!" the children yelled from inside their houses as I walked down. I hung around until lunch time, playing with the children and chatting. "Ben, its so boring right now..." said Man, laying down with his broken arm in a cast and a electronic game device in his other hand. Many of the children tell me that they wish they had more freedom, noting that the college students have the most freedom of all of them, and rightfully so, I guess. We finally set up for lunch, the Phung Vi house and me, and had another nice meal with one another. I told the children that I would not be able to eat for Thursday night and Friday, since I have to attend the wedding of one of my many uncles, uncle Thong, who is wedding a woman from Australia. They made fun of me, telling me that I left too often, and didn't spend enough time with them. "Don't worry, I'll make it up by coming back on Sunday!" I told them. Upon finishing the meal, I waved the children goodbye, walking up towards my room. Two of the children begged their mother to come nap at my room, Phe and Phi, and with luck, were granted permission.
         "This room is so amazing" said Phe, jumping right onto my bed. We napped for a bit, though eventually their brothers called them back down to pick up some new clothes and backpacks for school. The center here provides them with just about everything, clothing to scholarships for college.
With an hour or so left to spare before my class with the primary school students, I worked on my lesson and thought about some more ideas for my speech on the 25th.
         Pronunciation was the name of today's lesson, and I spent a full hour with the primary school students, explaining how to pronounce many different words, especially the one's I know they have problems with, like like and school. Today was actually a special day, as after finishing the first hour of the class, all the mothers of the center came to the library, asking me to teach them how to use email. "Oh right! I planned this the other day!" I thought, shaking my head a little bit, but then closing my books and telling the children that today was an easy day for them. They all cheered and ran back to their houses. All five of the mothers came, Ms. Be, Ms. Hen, Ms. Dua, Ms. Lang, and Ms. Nga (the newest mother). They were quite the cheery group, all great friends (who go on walks during the night together to talk and exercise), and joking with each other for much of the class. For the next hour and a half, I spent the time walking them through how to use a computer, how to go onto email, check the news, and made accounts for them. "I don't know how I'm going to remember all this information, much less get on the internet, as I don't even have a computer" said Ms. Be. They were so funny, making fun of each others' usernames and passwords, saying they could use their emails for find lovers and keep in touch with them. "It's getting late Ben, let's call for another lesson next week, okay?" said Ms. Lang. I thanked them for their time, and headed back to my room to relax until dinner.
         My house ate the latest of that day, eating at around six fifteen that day. The children begged me for another movie night, and so I agreed, inviting all twelve of them into my room. They were fans of horror films, and so I showed them two episodes of Supernatural and one of my personal favorites, REC. I had originally planned to go down and tutor more children in English, but it eventually got too late, and I had plenty of work to work on. At around twelve, I decided to call it a night and along with the dog, slept peacefully for the night.

#40 - English like Mathematics?

         Tuesday morning, I actually woke up with enough time to spare for breakfast. Today was another swim day, the last week of our swimming, as the following week is when many of the children return to school. I had a rather decent amount of sleep, though the dog, Min, who decided to sleep over in my room woke me up a little early in the morning. I let it out at around five thirty, Mrs. Hong shouting for her dog. Today was also another sunny day, some of the last few weeks of summer, until the rainy, rainy, and even more rainy wet season. Vietnam has a two seasons a year, wet and dry. Hue citizens in particular live in the extreme, bearing tough rains during fall, winter and spring, and harsh dry conditions in the summer. My uncle was busy today, unable to take me to the swimming center, and so I went with Bac Hung, Mr. Hung, the gardener of the center. He took me along with his son to meet the children at the swim center.
        Today's numbers were a little lower, many of the children having other errands to run, such as going to school and turning in money for the school year. Nevertheless, we had another fun day at the pool. There were no fights anymore, just fun, play, and practicing of swimming. I spent a lot of time at pool trying to test my endurance, swimming more laps than before. I also took the time to teach some of the children how to swim more efficiently, many of them not regular swimmers (neither am I). Ten o'clock rolled around and I headed back with Mr. Hung.
        My goodness, we rode for a long time. We first dropped off his some, and made stops at many different places where Mr. Hung was running errands for people. We spoke quite a bit to each other in the last couple weeks at the center, Mr. Hung having a calm and collected personality and a can-do attitude. When we at last pulled into the center, the children on bikes even beating us back, I took the hour of time before lunch to go and relax, shower, and work over some ideas for my class in the afternoon with the junior high children. "Ben, today is fishing day!" said Luong and Phe, both of them excited and asking me if they could skip class to go fish. I told them that I would think about it, playing around with the children and chatting with them until lunch was served.
        I continued to joke with the children at lunch about how many bowls of rice I had eaten, always throwing out random numbers. "Ugh, Ben you don't like our food do you?" asked Hien. "It's great, don't worry about it, I eat like this normally" I replied, "to be honest three to four small bowls is usually enough for me." Many of the children had heard stories of me eating seven small bowls, so they told all of the households to cook a lot of food for me. Unfortunately, they were a little wrong. What I almost forgot to mention was that a little bit before lunch, I went out to buy some sweets for the children, but was overcharged double the normal value of the snacks for the children. A bag of cookies normally costing six thousand dong was twelve thousand to me. The man at the nearby store definitely knew I had money, seeing as how I also bought a one hundred thousand dong phone card for my phone (about five dollars). While he tallied up my items, I did notice that I was being overcharged, but said nothing. To be honest, I wanted to do him a favor, help him out with his business. Though, when the children heard of how much I payed, they demanded that I run back and ask for a refund or ask for another set of snacks. "It's no big deal, I'm helping him out, he's running a tough business" I told them. We split out a bag of cookies and other sweets, eventually all heading off to rest.
         During class today, I at last taken the time the following night and this noon to work out my ideas for what to teach the children for the last remaining weeks. Complete English grammar would take ages, so I selected the basics first, sentence construction and simple tenses. The children were definitely catching on, feeling as if they understood things finally as I explained it to them in Vietnamese. What I had learned today is that in their schools, they are taught only grammar and vocabulary, having little or no opportunity to practice reading, writing, or speaking. "We just work through the lessons by the grammar, but do not understand anything we are writing down" said one of the students. I was surprised, and instantly it hit me. I have to do something about this. After calling the class off, I thought to myself about an opportunity to go with some of the children to their respective schools to see how the teaching program was at their schools, particularly in English. Some of them said they would get back to me, and so now I wait.
        On Sunday, I met one of the older daughters of one of my dad's friends. Her name was Tien, and she is a second year student at the Da Nang University of Education, specializing in mathematics. At first, she told me, she had chosen to attend a different university, what I believe to be was in English or something like that. Three years in, she decided that she didn't like it, and switched. Now at the age of about twenty four or so, she has to start over again in university to work towards a career in teaching mathematics, something she feels is far far easier for her to grasp. I invited her out to meet me at one of the local cafes, her having about three days of break left before going back to Da Nang for school. We talked for a long time, me spending a lot of my time going over my philosophy and how I got to the mindset that I am now, going over from my parents' history, my disagreements, and my epiphanies year after year. We talked deeply about the differences in education systems and cultures between West and East, comparing ideas and trying to work out compromises. Eventually, the time passed so quickly that I nearly missed out on dinner, the children calling me at around six. I waved her goodbye as she got on my motorbike back to one of her homes in Hue, greeting the children and walking on in to dinner.
        It was another fine dinner, the dog following us around and begging for food. When I finished, I went on back to my room to work, the children also following me up. Pretty soon, about twelve of the children all ran into my room, to relax in the air conditioning and play. "When will you be done Ben?" said one of them, wanting to watch another movie on my laptop. I worked as quickly as possible, the children making quite a stir in my room, me fearing that one of the mothers would come and chastise me. At last, I brought my laptop down towards the little children's houses, setting up the videos, and going off to tutor English to Phuong and Dieu, Phuong in her last year in high school, and Dieu in her second year in college.
         While the little children glued their eyes to the laptop screen, me and the two sisters got to work, going over basic English grammar, and practicing writing. Phuong told me about her frustration with English teaching, saying that she didn't understand a thing she was writing down in her classes and that her teachers did not explain the meaning of passages to the class, only focusing on grammar as if English was some kind of math subject. I looked at one of the notebooks of the recent graduates of high school, noticing a sea of grammar boxes and question/answer lessons. I asked her if they said they understood, and she told me no. I let out a sigh, telling her and Dieu that I would find some way to fix the problem. "If I could spend at least a year in America or overseas, I'm sure I could learn much much better" she told me. "Of course, I've had my whole life to practice" I replied. This is apart of the reason why my English is at the level that it is. Exposure. Something extremely important to the understanding of language. How do I "expose" them to an English speaking world? How do I create a simulation or something of the sort to help them understand? This will take a lot more time to develop.
        The time was getting dark, the children saying ghosts would grab me as I walked back to my room in the dark. I told them that it was nonsense and wished them all a good night, trudging on up to my room without anything in the way, other than the little white dog, Min, running after me to come sleep in my room. I let out a yawn, tired from the day, but still worked on my laptop until midnight, Min snoozing away on one of my big green pillows on my bed. I pet its head one last time, and flipped the switches to go to sleep. Every now and then, Min would yawn, letting out a ever so soft squeal. What a cute dog.

#39 - Frustration

        Yesterday at the party/ceremony, my dad's old friends asked me to come with them and spend a night over at their home village, which is about ten minutes or so away from my own. I, having my responsibility to the center, said no, and had to decline the offer. So here was how Monday ended up that day.
        Two of my brothers spent the night over, as I had said before. They woke me up first at five and then at six to leave the room and get to their chores. Tired from all the waking up, I slept until seven. I was still tired that morning, my limbs still aching when I woke up. I decided to go look for breakfast, deciding that it probably was a good idea to eat breakfast before a long day of work. After freshening up in the bathroom, I took the opportunity to go and walk to the tea room of the bakery, my brothers instantly knowing what I was looking for. I walked out of the room with five pieces of fine french bread, munching away on towards my room. I got started on looking over my lesson plan for the primary students this morning, thinking over how I was going to teach them grammar that they have either seen before and forgotten or grammar that they won't see for a long long time. My were french bread and pastries satisfying for breakfast, especially the fact that they were homemade.
         Upon opening the library and waiting a few moments, I realized that something was odd. Where is everyone? My brothers were in their house I supposed, my sisters in theirs' as well. I decided to walk down, wondering if something was up. I had learned that all except one of the primary school children had to go to the nearby hospital for a further health check-up. This led to a peculiar situation for me. I had spent hours working on today's lesson, only to find that there is only one person to teach? I adjusted. Man walked up with me, cast in his left arm from his fracture the other week, and his notebook and pencil in the other. I decided instead to focus on tutoring Man over all the basics again, seeing his memory level and helping him with whatever he needed thus far in the lessons. I must say that one on one tutoring has certainly made it easier for the students to understand, many of them able to grasp concepts within five minutes of tutoring, versus thirty minutes of class time. For the last half hour of the class, I decided to watch a short episode of a film series called Supernatural, dubbed in English with Vietnamese subtitles. The children were quite fond of the series, despite the horror aspect of it. It was a good opportunity I thought to allow Man to listen to spoken English, and try to explain it back to me. "Its difficult to understand," he said, "they speak too fast and their pronunciation is so weird." The differences in languages in regards to tone certainly makes it hard when it comes to understanding meaning. Vietnamese relies on tone in order to give meaning to words, while English relies on tone to stress emotion in words. This distinction is something I am currently working on to explain to the children. Hopefully I will work it out by this week. 
        Shortly after, Vinh, Dao's friend preparing to interview for a program to a Japanese University, called me out to hang out. I agreed, packing away my things and running on down to meet him. He drove me to one of his favorite restaurants, us both sitting by one of the nice fountains and enjoying some drinks. Vinh's desire to learn English is profound, him telling me that he self taught his way back to previous levels of English, after having spent over three years not speaking it. Now he was about to interview for a master's program at a Japanese University, an interview in English included in the application. He asked for us to talk naturally, rather then me fielding questions to him, which I agreed was the best way to learn a language. He told me about how much he enjoyed his passion, agricultural and environmental development, showing me some of his research papers and his experiences in the field. He told me that while having free time during his previous job, he would talk to tourists at Hoi An, the old town of Vietnam, and practice his English. "You have to take opportunities as they come and be creative with finding them," he told me, "I still need much more practice." I agreed with him, and we talked even more. I told him about my desire to go visit some classrooms in Vietnam, to understand what the classroom experience is like. He decided that he would get back to me later about an opportunity, telling me it would be a good way for me to figure out how I plan to help Vietnam in terms of education (to which I am glad that I have decided to minor in at Dartmouth!). When came about my lunchtime with the children at the center, the house Phung Vi to be the one to eat at for this week, I asked Vinh to take me back.
        The children of the house were excited to see me come down, always asking me how many bowls I eat normally for lunch. "Ten thousand" I told them, jokingly. The little children are always curious about what I think of their food, wondering if I can eat it at all. "I eat all of this stuff normally at home, its great, Hue food is the best" I told them. The sun beamed down on the center, frying everything beneath it at this point. I marched on up to my room after, tired and ready for a nap.
        During my next class with the below average students, I again was met with the same situation as in the morning. Only Loi was left, both Hien and Thuy busy with other business. It was still fine, though I had to move lesson plans down a day to make up for the tutoring. Loi was getting better, telling me that what plagues him is his lack of focus in the classroom. I went over all the previous lessons with him, testing him if he had memorized them. When I at last finished, I ran over to the Anh Dao house to help sister Bang, a junior at the Hue University of Science with writing a speech in English.
        Boy did she need help. She told me that in school, there were so few opportunities to read and write in English. "They just focus only on grammar and vocabulary" she told me. I had known about that for a while, but was unsure of how to address it. Until later on this day after a discussion with Mr. Tam, the tutor for the Bakery apprentices of the center in English. Anyways, Bang was writing a speech about one of her passions - literature. The quality of writing is about, I'd say sixth grade level or so in English, many of the sentences in basic tenses. "I don't know many of these words in English, so I look them up in the dictionary and put them into the sentence, " she said, "in Vietnamese the sentences sound fine!" She teased me and pinched my cheeks as I corrected her paper, joking with me that I was being too harsh. Maybe I was, but eventually we finished up a fine example for her to present to her teacher. She thanked me for helping her and said she would call me again for her next three topics she has to right about. I agreed and headed off.
        By now, it was five o'clock, and I had an hour to spare before having to head off to dinner with the Phung Vi house. I met Mr. Tam along the road and had a long, thoughtful conversation with him. He was perhaps the most knowledgeable person at the center that I had met, having had years of experience teaching in Vietnam and working within the education system. I told him my grand plans, my wish to better the education system of Vietnam concerning English teaching, and many other things. "That's all well and good, but you need to understand what you are dealing with here," he said, "there are many barriers in the way, and you need to understand how the system works." He told me how frustrating it has been for him, a fluent English speaker, to try to teach his own fellow peers, the teachers of Vietnam, to properly teach the language. "If I tell them to correct their mistakes, they will look down upon me, saying that I am wronging them, but if you, or someone from the outside comes, they will listen" he said. My goodness. What a life. I understand his frustration, the feeling of not being able to help his peers, despite having the noblest of intentions. "You know, what I will say is that it is getting better, each year, more and more people from the outside are coming to the big cities in Vietnam, helping with the teaching there" he told me. "I understand that, but I want to bring change that will benefit all of Vietnam, in a timely manner, one that doesn't cost too much money, and one that is efficient" I replied. Before I could finish my though, the time hit for us both to head off to our respective posts, his being his class with the apprentices, and me to have dinner. "Perhaps at another opportunity, we can speak further about this matter," he told me, to which I replied, "indeed, have a great a class!"
            I ran down to dinner, the children setting up the tables and chairs. It was another fine meal, though the rice had been cooked rather soggy, leaving Phi, the rice cooker of the day, to receive various complaints. After finishing, I thanked the children for the meal, chatting for a little bit, and then heading on back towards my room. Before that trip over, I decided first to talk to Mrs. Hong about her trip, she having finally rested up for the day. There she was, cheery as always, and eager also to hear about my travels thus far, and my feelings about Vietnam. I told her about my surprise over meeting the Minister of Education, and my feelings over all the publicity so far about me. She told me that she agreed with me and loved my sense of responsibility and passion, but warned me not to talk too much about my parents' reasons for leaving Vietnam, particularly the one concerning freedoms. "You know Ben, it hurts me to hear that your parents left for that reason, as you can see now that Vietnam does have freedom, and Vietnam happily invites outsiders, including overseas Vietnamese, to come back home and see how much it has changed" she said. I agreed, apologizing and quickly speaking towards another subject. I stayed for about half an hour, talking to her, her daughter, her family friend who came over, and her husband about Hanoi and traveling in Vietnam. Mrs. Hong is from Hanoi, her husband from Hue. Her daughter, she hopes, will work in Hue after finishing up at the Hue Academy of Music, though her suspected lover lives in Hanoi. I at last, headed back to my room, greeted by a mob of children from the houses coming over to hang out with me.
          What better than to show them more episodes of one of their favorite series. So I did just that, settling them all in, turning off all the lights, and sitting down with them, watching for about three hours or so, explaining to them in Vietnamese, anything they didn't understand from the English. Phi, one of the junior high students, told me exactly what I had expected, which was that the English pronunciation and tone was what made it difficult for him to understand the conversations in the videos. "I can hear the words, but can't make out their meanings in context clearly enough to understand" said Phe, one of Phi's classmates. There we were, all of us huddled around the laptop, watching until about nine thirty, their curfew. They all ran back, saying that they would be back the next day. I spent the rest of the night working, typing furiously away like I am now, and reading. So much to think about this Monday...