Idle again. I'm writing from inside the nearly completed school waiting for Van Anh and Hieu to return with the toilet. I had a pretty productive beginning to the day and no guys tried to take over my work. I've recently come to understand the reason women are usually discouraged from doing physical work - in Vietnam everything is about the end result and everyone is expected to play to their strength to improve efficiency. That generally means women are supposed to do more skilled crafts while men are supposed to do the manual labor. That's all well and good, but I think I'm more suited to this manual labor than some of the guys - I can shovel more than them faster than them and have at least the same endurance. I just finished mixing the last batch of cement to perfection but now there's nothing more for me to do until we get more supplies. We still need to bring in the toilet for the girls (which is a porcelain bowl but it's a flattened one that you squat over rather than the ones we sit on in the US), the doors from the carpenter, and apparently we forgot to order the aluminum sheets for the roof so suffice it to say we won't finish today.
I love the ingenuity people use to get work done here. We constructed a large sifter so we could filter all of the pebbles and plants out of the sand so we could use it to make the cement that will provide a protective layer on the outer wall. We made the sifter by pinching a sheet of metal netting between random strips of wood and nailing the wood together. While he was hammering, I noticed for the first time that the contractor is missing the tip of his right index finger - yes he's a beast at his job now but it was interesting to see evidence of a time when he was as inexperienced as me (hopefully I'll have better luck). Sifting sand was actually the most tiring thing I've done on this project so far - we shoveled up sand from the existing pile and tossed the scoop at the metal sheet which was propped up with bamboo so that it was almost vertical so that the fine sand passed through creating a new pile. We finished the sifting just before leaving for lunch but we still have a pretty long way to go.
I feel like a terrible person right now. This week I was planning on finishing my analysis of the data from the survey I conducted in Saigon, but it appears I'm already late and didn't even know it. I as talking with Hieu today and apparently when he visited the Institute for Tropical Biology headquarters, our contact there gave us grades for our internship. He gave us ten out of ten on everything except data analysis on which we scored a six out of ten. I was rather taken aback, not only because of how odd it was that we were receiving grades for our work (a rather presumptuous way to give feedback), but also because I had emailed Mr. Vinh before leaving Saigon and told him I would be sending a more thorough summary. Now I'm afraid I've taken too long and he thinks I've forgotten or something. I held off because I haven't had a lot of time and I wanted to devote my full attention to it but now I just feel awful because he's been waiting longer than he'd expected. I absolutely hate having people mad at or disappointed in me and I'm afraid Mr. Vinh might be both. I'm trying to finish the summary by tonight so maybe Mr. Vinh won't go on thinking I'm unreliable...Good news! I just officially sent off the completed survey and it's not half-bad actually - at least it feels more useful than just raw data based on random questions. I inserted a lot of extra information not contained in the survey questions.
The whole group made a little culinary adventure this evening, riding over to a sweetsoup vendor to try egg sweetsoup, which only Van Anh has tried and has been deemed crazy by all of the Vietnamese roommates for saying it's delicious. However she's convinced, so all of us went to try it for the first time. Kendra and I shared the warm chicken egg sweetsoup rather than the cold quail egg one, which in retrospect was a good choice. It was certainly an odd mixture of ingredients, containing not only egg but also peanuts, red beans, tapioca, and seaweed. It was pretty good, though I personally think it would have been much better without the seaweed. All these different sweetsoups just keep getting more and more weird as I go along.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Vietnam Day 49 (7/26/09)
For two weeks now I've eaten nothing but egg and bread for breakfast, but now it's the weekend and I finally have time for pho. It wasn't bad for hotel pho, but I must admit I was a bit underwhelmed. I miss having five hundred pho places to choose from like we did in Saigon, but this will just have to do for now. I'm finding MoCay harder to live in than Saigon. Still unclear whether that's because there's simply less to do here or because I'd settled into a routine in the city and now I'm being shaken out of it. I'm becoming more aware every day of how little time we have left here.
We rode over to the same room where we met the politician last week, this time for a discussion with a war veteran. He was a very skinny, frail old man but whenever he spoke he got out of his chair and stood up straight until he'd finished, an impressive feat given how long-winded he was. He said repeatedly that he didn't have enough time to tell us all about his experiences in the war but he did share with us the story of the most glorious victory he ever took part in. In this battle, the Vietnamese infantry was greatly outnumbered but they had a very strategy, hiding along the sides of a very narrow path that American troops used. Because of the way the path was set up, only the American soldiers on the sides could fight and those in the middle. My first reaction was admiration for the tact and intelligence of the Vietnamese troops, but then I caught myself and realized that my countrymen were on the other side of this "victory." I asked him how many casualties were on both sides and he reported twenty three Vietnamese to roughly four hundred and fifty American dead. Purely in terms of statistics these numbers are very impressive but when you think of the real people involved it's incredibly tragic. That makes the fact that this battle is his fondest memory of the war a little more questionable to my mind. He was forty seven at the time of this battle (much older than I expected), so he was a fully conscious adult, not just some naive kid with nothing but orders and a rifle.
When Molly asked about his feelings about America today, he responded with a very calm diplomatic answer about the war being in the past, expressing his support for the current economic cooperation. He did however accompany this statement with his one complaint that the Vietnamese government has done its part to recover remains of American soldiers while the US has taken no responsibility for the continuing effects of Agent Orange. Following her translation of this comment, Alice added some extra information, telling us that when Clinton normalized relations with Vietnam, he got them to sign off saying that America was not financially responsible for the affects of Agent Orange. She added that most Vietnamese don't know this because the government won't admit to the people that they waive the right to blame America for this devastating mistake (though personally I think it was Clinton who was morally reprehensible in this case). This added information was very interesting to us, but Hieu informed Alice afterwards that if any of the People's Committee officials in the room at the time had understood English she could be in huge trouble right now. Politics of the war are still a hot-button issue here and the government continues to keep many details very hugh-hush.
When he answered the Americans' questions, the veteran was very collected, but as soon as the questions started coming in Vietnamese he got very agitated. He explained the patriotism that motivated him to join the war with fervor in his shaking voice and powerful sweeping hand gestures. He told a story about an eighteen year old American soldier he met during the war who threw down his gun to express his disdain for the war so the veteran said he understands that the American people didn't often agree with the government about the war but many of his other comments conflicted with this statement. His voice raised in anger as he blamed the US entirely for all the fighting between Northern and Southern Vietnamese people and complained of the hypocrisy of an America that claims to believe in freedom but invaded his country to take away Vietnamese liberty (and I can't say I entirely disagree with him). He closed by asking us to go to America and tell people the truth, an odd request given that Americans are taught about his perspective among others to get the whole picture, whereas he only knows one version - hearing him talk was affecting but I don't think I learned any new "truths." Before leaving, he asked that one of the Americans make a closing statement, either implying or outright requesting a formal apology from us for the war. This is one speech I might have actually wanted to give if only I knew how - I certainly don't feel qualified to speak for the American government and I wasn't sure how to tip-toe around that. Fortunately, Molly took the ball and thanked him for speaking to us and giving us his perspective, carefully avoiding an apology. He seemed pacified enough but he didn't really makes eye-contact with any of us. I do feel very sorry for what he's been through, but I still don't feel compelled to apologize for my government.
After only two weeks, I feel like I'm already over MoCay. I'm not exactly homesick, but I prefer either the Saigon or the US to here. It's just that there's nothing to do here and no freedom to go where we like. We feel very under the thumb of the government with the police and the People's Committee constantly spying on us because we're foreigners and they don't want us to get hurt on their watch (for instance, they delivered an official-looking envelope to Alice and inside were instructions to ride our bikes in a single-file line and with both hands on the handlebars - how could they have known we weren't doing that unless they were being creepy and watching us constantly). I also hate the feeling of living in a hotel. It feels so artificial and doesn't make for a good living space. My cubical room feels very cramped and claustrophobic and all the naked women depicted on every wall of the hotel are still pretty weird. Maybe it's just the bad feng shui in my room messing me up (we have mirrors facing each other which is apparently a big no no).
We rode over to the same room where we met the politician last week, this time for a discussion with a war veteran. He was a very skinny, frail old man but whenever he spoke he got out of his chair and stood up straight until he'd finished, an impressive feat given how long-winded he was. He said repeatedly that he didn't have enough time to tell us all about his experiences in the war but he did share with us the story of the most glorious victory he ever took part in. In this battle, the Vietnamese infantry was greatly outnumbered but they had a very strategy, hiding along the sides of a very narrow path that American troops used. Because of the way the path was set up, only the American soldiers on the sides could fight and those in the middle. My first reaction was admiration for the tact and intelligence of the Vietnamese troops, but then I caught myself and realized that my countrymen were on the other side of this "victory." I asked him how many casualties were on both sides and he reported twenty three Vietnamese to roughly four hundred and fifty American dead. Purely in terms of statistics these numbers are very impressive but when you think of the real people involved it's incredibly tragic. That makes the fact that this battle is his fondest memory of the war a little more questionable to my mind. He was forty seven at the time of this battle (much older than I expected), so he was a fully conscious adult, not just some naive kid with nothing but orders and a rifle.
When Molly asked about his feelings about America today, he responded with a very calm diplomatic answer about the war being in the past, expressing his support for the current economic cooperation. He did however accompany this statement with his one complaint that the Vietnamese government has done its part to recover remains of American soldiers while the US has taken no responsibility for the continuing effects of Agent Orange. Following her translation of this comment, Alice added some extra information, telling us that when Clinton normalized relations with Vietnam, he got them to sign off saying that America was not financially responsible for the affects of Agent Orange. She added that most Vietnamese don't know this because the government won't admit to the people that they waive the right to blame America for this devastating mistake (though personally I think it was Clinton who was morally reprehensible in this case). This added information was very interesting to us, but Hieu informed Alice afterwards that if any of the People's Committee officials in the room at the time had understood English she could be in huge trouble right now. Politics of the war are still a hot-button issue here and the government continues to keep many details very hugh-hush.
When he answered the Americans' questions, the veteran was very collected, but as soon as the questions started coming in Vietnamese he got very agitated. He explained the patriotism that motivated him to join the war with fervor in his shaking voice and powerful sweeping hand gestures. He told a story about an eighteen year old American soldier he met during the war who threw down his gun to express his disdain for the war so the veteran said he understands that the American people didn't often agree with the government about the war but many of his other comments conflicted with this statement. His voice raised in anger as he blamed the US entirely for all the fighting between Northern and Southern Vietnamese people and complained of the hypocrisy of an America that claims to believe in freedom but invaded his country to take away Vietnamese liberty (and I can't say I entirely disagree with him). He closed by asking us to go to America and tell people the truth, an odd request given that Americans are taught about his perspective among others to get the whole picture, whereas he only knows one version - hearing him talk was affecting but I don't think I learned any new "truths." Before leaving, he asked that one of the Americans make a closing statement, either implying or outright requesting a formal apology from us for the war. This is one speech I might have actually wanted to give if only I knew how - I certainly don't feel qualified to speak for the American government and I wasn't sure how to tip-toe around that. Fortunately, Molly took the ball and thanked him for speaking to us and giving us his perspective, carefully avoiding an apology. He seemed pacified enough but he didn't really makes eye-contact with any of us. I do feel very sorry for what he's been through, but I still don't feel compelled to apologize for my government.
After only two weeks, I feel like I'm already over MoCay. I'm not exactly homesick, but I prefer either the Saigon or the US to here. It's just that there's nothing to do here and no freedom to go where we like. We feel very under the thumb of the government with the police and the People's Committee constantly spying on us because we're foreigners and they don't want us to get hurt on their watch (for instance, they delivered an official-looking envelope to Alice and inside were instructions to ride our bikes in a single-file line and with both hands on the handlebars - how could they have known we weren't doing that unless they were being creepy and watching us constantly). I also hate the feeling of living in a hotel. It feels so artificial and doesn't make for a good living space. My cubical room feels very cramped and claustrophobic and all the naked women depicted on every wall of the hotel are still pretty weird. Maybe it's just the bad feng shui in my room messing me up (we have mirrors facing each other which is apparently a big no no).
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Vietnam Day 48 (7/25/09)
We spent the entire afternoon practicing for the performance tonight and frankly our rehearsals didn't instill much confidence. We were frequently offbeat and uncoordinated and we were still making last minute changes to the choreography up until we left. Molly and I left a little early so we could practice with the microphones but when we got to the People's Committee headquarters we got a little distracted by the children who were already waiting outside. By the time we finished playing with them the rest of the group arrived anyway. It's probably bet they did though because the microphones were really echoey like they are in karaoke and we had no idea how to ask the technician to reset them. The whole group did a mini-dress rehearsal, quite a spectacle in our blue work uniforms. Most of the audience consisted of the People's Committee members and lots and lots of children. The performance began about an hour after it was scheduled to because we had to wait for the vice-chair to arrive before we could start (yet another politician making us wait).
The first performance was a song by the school children - it was not nearly as painful to listen to as most children's concerts are and it was really adorable to watch them try (and fail) to sway in unison. That was definitely the highlight of the night and after that followed numerous solos by members of the community taking advantage of an open mic. The gaggle of children had absolutely no patience for such a long show and kept talking and acting up. I felt so bad for the performers who were trying so hard even though none of the kids were paying attention. There were times when, at the beginning of a song, some of the children would run up on stage and hand the singer flowers during the song. Some of the Vietnamese roommates (and the rest of us at times) went up on stage for a couple of songs and just did impromptu dances to the music. The rest of the time when we were in the audience we clapped and waved our hands in the air, trying to support the performer. We were soon in their shoes as we went up on stage for the group Vietnamese song. As predicted, the choreography was pretty disorganized but I think we pulled it off pretty well - I just threw myself into it and kept smiling (not hard since I was laughing half of the time).
Next up were me and Molly singing "For Good" from "Wicked." We started out really well, singing as if we were old hands at performing. The, in the middle of my solo, a slew of kids from the audience suddenly rushed the stage thrusting flowers into our hands. It was as distracting as I had expected (especially when a thorn pricked my finger), but made it even more fun. The grand finale was us singing "Heal the World" which I wouldn't call quality singing, but we did alright - at least we didn't burn the place down with the candles we decided to add to our choreography at the end. It was a long night but I did have a lot of fun. We rode back in the dark again but at least this time I had my super-stylish headlamp to light my way. I'm completely wiped out but tonight I can finally rest without the performance looming over my head.
[Remember how I mentioned the police visiting during the witching hour last week? Well now I've had a chance to see their whole operation in action. I'm writing in the lobby pretty late at night so I was here to watch half a dozen cops come in and sit down at the coffee table going through our passports and take down our information in their notebooks. I don't know what they were writing down but hopefully it won't result in them knocking on my door at an unreasonable hour again.]
The first performance was a song by the school children - it was not nearly as painful to listen to as most children's concerts are and it was really adorable to watch them try (and fail) to sway in unison. That was definitely the highlight of the night and after that followed numerous solos by members of the community taking advantage of an open mic. The gaggle of children had absolutely no patience for such a long show and kept talking and acting up. I felt so bad for the performers who were trying so hard even though none of the kids were paying attention. There were times when, at the beginning of a song, some of the children would run up on stage and hand the singer flowers during the song. Some of the Vietnamese roommates (and the rest of us at times) went up on stage for a couple of songs and just did impromptu dances to the music. The rest of the time when we were in the audience we clapped and waved our hands in the air, trying to support the performer. We were soon in their shoes as we went up on stage for the group Vietnamese song. As predicted, the choreography was pretty disorganized but I think we pulled it off pretty well - I just threw myself into it and kept smiling (not hard since I was laughing half of the time).
Next up were me and Molly singing "For Good" from "Wicked." We started out really well, singing as if we were old hands at performing. The, in the middle of my solo, a slew of kids from the audience suddenly rushed the stage thrusting flowers into our hands. It was as distracting as I had expected (especially when a thorn pricked my finger), but made it even more fun. The grand finale was us singing "Heal the World" which I wouldn't call quality singing, but we did alright - at least we didn't burn the place down with the candles we decided to add to our choreography at the end. It was a long night but I did have a lot of fun. We rode back in the dark again but at least this time I had my super-stylish headlamp to light my way. I'm completely wiped out but tonight I can finally rest without the performance looming over my head.
[Remember how I mentioned the police visiting during the witching hour last week? Well now I've had a chance to see their whole operation in action. I'm writing in the lobby pretty late at night so I was here to watch half a dozen cops come in and sit down at the coffee table going through our passports and take down our information in their notebooks. I don't know what they were writing down but hopefully it won't result in them knocking on my door at an unreasonable hour again.]
Vietnam Day 47 (7/24/09)
Kendra and I were the first to get to the school today and we were surprised to find the next arrivals were from the house group. Apparently their contractor was sick today so everyone would be working at the school. I could tell from the start it was going to be too many people for the job - we barely even had enough room to park our bikes. There wasn't even much work left for the normal group to do, just some more scrubbing and then laying down a concrete path from the gate to the front door. I've learned from experience that more than two or three people mixing cement can actually reduce efficiency, so a lot of people were left to stand there "supervising."
There wasn't anything more we could have done today, so we left for lunch early and helped the moms set out the food (the carrots were heavenly, an adjective I never thought I'd use to describe a vegetable). Instead of going to the cafe for the break, I decided to stay at the moms' house a little longer and chill on the tiled patio. It's very relaxing there, so open and light. Loan and Hieu were singing next to me as chickens strutted past. I felt the stifling tropical heat penetrating my skin but the next moment a light breeze rolled by and I slipped back into total comfort. This feels like real Vietnamese life - friends are sprawled out around me, napping on the patio and in hammocks. The music has stopped now and I can hear the moms chattering back in the kitchen, the dull hum of motorbikes in the distance, squeaky bike wheels passing the house, and a very sporadic rooster crowing somewhere behind me. This may not be my home, but if I had to choose another this moment, this would be it.
Science class today was one of the first where I really felt effective in sparking the kids' interest in science. We had another space day where the students first learned the names (in both Vietnamese and English) and order of the planets and then marched outside to watch the bottle rocket demonstration. We were teaching the younger kids today and their reactions were priceless. When we took them outside for the demonstration, they formed two lines and the line in front squats down so the row behind can see (like stadium seating) but when the rocket went off many of the children in the front row jumped up in excitement. We set the rocket off four times and with each trial, the whole class counted down in unison, "nam, bon, ba, hai, mot, BOOM," repeating this chant in unison until they got it right. They were so excited that it made the whole teaching experience that much more worthwhile.
We finished before the older classes, so a bunch of us stayed and played outside with the little kids. They seemed to have boundless energy (which sadly I didn't possess to the same extent) - first we kicked around a soccerball, then gave piggy-back rides and raced (the kids made wonderful jockeys). Afterwards I felt tired and disgusting but pretty happy overall. Dinner this evening was extremely entertaining. Van Anh had placed an request for spaghetti, egg rolls, and french fries, a bit of East meets West. The spaghetti was very much like what we eat in America with the same noodles and meat sauce, although the chef added a little Vietnamese twist by throwing in a bit of chopped squid. What I preferred were the Asian noodles, clear rice noodles that we wrapped in lettuce with a small egg roll and dipped in fish sauce - delicious. The Western dish I was happy to see was the plate of french fries, which were actually pretty close to good ones at home (or maybe they just seemed better because I hadn't had any in a while).
After dinner, we made a little excursion to the convenience store around the corner. This place is great - it's a little hole in the wall that doesn't contain much but the things it does have include a magnificent hoard of packaged junk food with everything from Mentos to durian cakes. The women who run the shop are hilarious - they go into a tizzy when we get there, trying to use their limited English and getting overly-excited when we use Vietnamese. As we were walking back, we could have sworn we heard a duck quacking behind us but when we turned around there was only a motorbike. As it passed however, we heard the quacking again and looked to find a bag hanging on the bike's bars carrying two white ducks that were peering out. It's still pretty strange for us to see farm animals anywhere, let alone hanging from a motorbike.
There wasn't anything more we could have done today, so we left for lunch early and helped the moms set out the food (the carrots were heavenly, an adjective I never thought I'd use to describe a vegetable). Instead of going to the cafe for the break, I decided to stay at the moms' house a little longer and chill on the tiled patio. It's very relaxing there, so open and light. Loan and Hieu were singing next to me as chickens strutted past. I felt the stifling tropical heat penetrating my skin but the next moment a light breeze rolled by and I slipped back into total comfort. This feels like real Vietnamese life - friends are sprawled out around me, napping on the patio and in hammocks. The music has stopped now and I can hear the moms chattering back in the kitchen, the dull hum of motorbikes in the distance, squeaky bike wheels passing the house, and a very sporadic rooster crowing somewhere behind me. This may not be my home, but if I had to choose another this moment, this would be it.
Science class today was one of the first where I really felt effective in sparking the kids' interest in science. We had another space day where the students first learned the names (in both Vietnamese and English) and order of the planets and then marched outside to watch the bottle rocket demonstration. We were teaching the younger kids today and their reactions were priceless. When we took them outside for the demonstration, they formed two lines and the line in front squats down so the row behind can see (like stadium seating) but when the rocket went off many of the children in the front row jumped up in excitement. We set the rocket off four times and with each trial, the whole class counted down in unison, "nam, bon, ba, hai, mot, BOOM," repeating this chant in unison until they got it right. They were so excited that it made the whole teaching experience that much more worthwhile.
We finished before the older classes, so a bunch of us stayed and played outside with the little kids. They seemed to have boundless energy (which sadly I didn't possess to the same extent) - first we kicked around a soccerball, then gave piggy-back rides and raced (the kids made wonderful jockeys). Afterwards I felt tired and disgusting but pretty happy overall. Dinner this evening was extremely entertaining. Van Anh had placed an request for spaghetti, egg rolls, and french fries, a bit of East meets West. The spaghetti was very much like what we eat in America with the same noodles and meat sauce, although the chef added a little Vietnamese twist by throwing in a bit of chopped squid. What I preferred were the Asian noodles, clear rice noodles that we wrapped in lettuce with a small egg roll and dipped in fish sauce - delicious. The Western dish I was happy to see was the plate of french fries, which were actually pretty close to good ones at home (or maybe they just seemed better because I hadn't had any in a while).
After dinner, we made a little excursion to the convenience store around the corner. This place is great - it's a little hole in the wall that doesn't contain much but the things it does have include a magnificent hoard of packaged junk food with everything from Mentos to durian cakes. The women who run the shop are hilarious - they go into a tizzy when we get there, trying to use their limited English and getting overly-excited when we use Vietnamese. As we were walking back, we could have sworn we heard a duck quacking behind us but when we turned around there was only a motorbike. As it passed however, we heard the quacking again and looked to find a bag hanging on the bike's bars carrying two white ducks that were peering out. It's still pretty strange for us to see farm animals anywhere, let alone hanging from a motorbike.
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