I just finished my last monday of work in Ben Tre. I finally got my wish and we had more to do today than just sit around. We evened out the dirt path to the toilet, making sloppy edges straighter by breaking off the excess mud - I went along the path first, breaking up the compacted dirt with a shovel that's bent at the neck so it's more like a pickaxe while Van Anh and Hanh followed with regular shovels to finesse the sides. We used the mud we'd just dislodged to level out more of the ground around the toilet and I spent the rest of my morning doing my usual routine of mixing cement, waiting around until the contractor needed more and then mixing again. Today I discovered that we don't have the rest of the week to finish the project - since our "handover" ceremony for the school is Thursday, we have to be done with all of our work by the end of Wednesday. Frankly, I have my doubts about our ability to finish in time. Today, the contractor finished siding the inside walls, but that still leaves siding the front, installing the actual toilets, putting up the roof, painting, and extending the path. It would be really sad to leave without finishing, but at least we can leave the community with the resources to complete it on their own if it comes to that. It's weird to think that we only have two more days of work but four more days in Mo Cay - I admit I've been antsy to finish up here, but I think still being in town with no work to do will be worse. Being in constant anticipation of going back and mentally preparing myself to return to America has made everything drag on longer.
Today is a holiday that reminds me of the Day of the Dead - it's a day to remember relatives who have died (along the lines of ancestor worship) and it's celebrated with a huge feast. The road group was invited to this banquet by one of the families that lives along the road, so they all had essentially a full dinner before ever reaching the moms' house. At least I had a voracious appetite today and the food was great so I was able to help finish off some of the extra food. Today was our last official class with the older kids. We took them outside to try out the catapult, which went over fine though it had a much more dramatic effect when we showed the little kids because each projectile splash-landed into a puddle. Now the catapult lesson is done so we're donating the catapult to the school - no idea what they'll do with it but hopefully no one gets hurt in the process. The ride back was scenic as always. Schoolgirls rode by on their bikes wearing white audois (the school uniform on Mondays) and down the road teenage boys, still soaking wet from the rain, drag raced on their bicycles. There was the usual assortment of animals: roosters contained in cages that look like big overturned baskets, a dog with a scraggly coat, and a large pig, its enormous testicles swinging as it was driven on by its owner. There's a little hut I pass every day where five people sit at tables covered with moonsnails as they rapidly remove the beautiful caps with a spiral design and throw them into large baskets on the ground. On the second bridge we were forced to stop because of the huge gap (much bigger than the usual ones) left by a missing plank that was there only this morning - I still wonder how that happened and who went into the river with it. We rode back through the flooded market, leaving massive waves in our wake.
I'm disappointed that the language barrier is still such a huge problem for me. More and more, the Vietnamese roommates have been slipping back into speaking only Vietnamese, especially at my work site where I'm the only American. The schoolchildren as well as random people are always trying to converse with me, trying to speak more slowly to help me understand. Yet, no matter how earnestly they try, I never catch a single word. I'm getting very good at the phrase "xin loi, khong biet", translation "I'm sorry, I don't understand" - every time I say it, their faces droop and they move on. Then there's the contractor who I've been working next to for over three weeks but I still know nothing about. I've leaned some of his mannerisms, but I have no idea what he talks about all day. I get by well enough to do my work and be polite to strangers, but I'm not flourishing in this challenge – I feel left out, frustrated, and even bored at times. However, these difficulties haven’t diminished my desire to come back someday to live and work here – I just know I’ll definitely need to take intensive Vietnamese classes before I do.
I’m sure everyone’s happy to hear I’ve finally decided that griping isn’t going to get me anywhere – I just have to accept that I’ve done everything I could do (or was allowed to do given the craftsmanship required) and I’m sure my presence ahs made some difference, no matter how small. It’s the same with our teaching efforts in the afternoon. It may be difficult to teach them anything lasting when I can’t speak to them myself, but I am showing them a good time. I think the kids may get the most out of our interactions outside of class. By spending time with them at the cafe and playing with them in between classes, we’re teaching them in between classes, we’re teaching them how to relate to strangers from different cultures.
The family of the girl who went fishing with us had us over for a big lunch today. After the meal, they showed us family pictures, among them the class pictures taken with last year’s Green Summer participants. We took our class picture today and I’d like to think some of the kids will remember me in the same way.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Vietnam Day 56 (8/3/09)
5:10 my alarm went off and I had little motivation to get out of bed because I knew all that was waiting for me was a 3K. Still, it's a good cause and I really do want to push myself to run the whole thing - after all, it's not even two miles right? We started out at the Youth Union hall where we were greeted by very patriotic music. However, there were very few people there to hear it. There were less than ten kids there, making our hundred and fifty numbered t-shirts seem even more excessive than it did last night when we were putting the numbers on them. While we waited for more participants to show up, I walked over to the chain-link fence to watch the volleyball game going on in the courtyard next door. It wasn't a serious game, just a small group of people (mostly senior citizens) playing with a huge orange bouncy ball. It looked like a lot of fun so when they motioned me over to play, I grabbed Molly and Kendra and we joined the game. Kendra went on the side that had been winning before and used her superior height to help increase their lead while Molly and I mostly helped keep our team's score low, though I must say we were making some impressive hits there at the end.
When enough runners had arrived, Van Anh blew her plastic green whistle and called us back over to start the opening ceremony. Hieu was MC (no surprise there) and cheerfully greeted everyone in Vietnamese. We then handed out the free shirts to the contestants, most of whom were younger than me - the shirt was way too big for some of them, especially Thien (an adorable little boy that Molly may stow in her suitcase when we head back) who had a difficult time trying to tuck the tent-like shirt into his pants (it was absolutely adorable). The whole group then marched through the market, even more conspicuous with the tall yellow pennants some of us were carrying - somehow I got stuck carrying one of these flags, which almost turned disastrous when I nearly smacked into a low-hanging powerline with the pole. When we reached the starting line, we were pleasantly surprised to find even more yellow-shirted runners waiting for us (among them mother number nine who I couldn't believe was running at all).
We were delayed for a minute while a procession of vans and cars passed (an unusual sight in Mo Cay), the last one adorned with flowers and bearing a bride dressed in a traditional red audoi and disk-shaped hat. Once everyone was set, Alex blew the start whistle and all the kids took off at a sprint. I and the other DukeEngage students running in the back so we wouldn't be trampled by tiny feet. The kids of course couldn't keep up that pace so we soon caught up to them, though I got left behind by the other Americans in the process because I'm really out of shape and couldn't quite handle the tropical Vietnamese sun. Instead I set my own pace and took my time (occasionally taking some shaky photos along the way). About halfway through, I heard someone calling my name. I looked behind me to see Linh (the thirteen year-old girl in the class with the younger kids) with Yen (Ha's sister) on the back of her bike pulling up alongside me. They proceeded to ride next to me for the rest of the way. For the first stretch together, Yen held my hand and then Linh took over (riding one-handed). It was absolutely adorable and they kept me smiling and laughing the whole time (probably a good thing because there were cameras and cheering onlookers standing on the sidelines the whole way). The last quarter-mile was really hard for me - I was exhausted and on the verge of collapsing, but I refused to give up. At long last I saw Hieu up ahead waving a yellow pennant at the finish line - I wouldn't call it a sprint but I definitely sped up at the end and finally finished.
I was so excited, I couldn't (and still can't) believe I ran the whole way when I came into this expecting I would walk part of it. I was really proud of myself for pushing through the heat and humidity and coming out with my weak muscles still in tact. A lot of people finished ahead of me, but I took some comfort in the fact that a lot of those were younger kids who'd hitched rides on motorbikes most of the way. I might have done well, but Phil and Alex did even better - they finished sixth and ninth respectively, just behind a bunch of scrawny teenage boys who looked like a high school track team, the first place winner completing the entire race in only nine minutes, barefooted no less. For being in the top ten, each runner received ten notebooks, a gift that only seemed appropriate for the little kids so Phil and Alex gave theirs to our students. There were also five students (including Nhi and Thien) who were presented with scholarships and school uniforms. We were really confused why only these five received the scholarships since there were supposed to be almost eighty students getting them. Alice explained that these were the only ones who could come today since the rest were probably busy working in the fields (a rather sad thought) and would come by later to get their scholarships. Their absence was far more effective than their presence in driving home the purpose of this event. When we finished up at the closing ceremony, everyone felt ready to go back to the hotel, eat lunch, and take a long nap - that is until we realized it was only eight o'clock in the morning.
I couldn't believe how much of the day was left - it really goes to show you how much you can accomplish in a day if you get up at the crack of dawn. Since it was still so early, it seemed like a waste to just go right back to sleep. Instead, we accepted an invitation from one of the older school girls to go fishing.We went down a dirt path to her uncle's house and collected our own fishing supplies. A young boy of about twelve stirred up the earth with a machete while My, Phat, and I dug around in the dirt , pulling out tiny worms and placing them in an empty yogurt cup (a lot of them were miniscule so it was always really exciting to find a fat juicy one). I then made my own fishing pole out of a stalk of bamboo. Holding the stalk upright in front of me, I whacked off the leaves with swift downward swipes of the machete. After the bamboo was smoothed out, we tied strings and hooks to the end and walked a few feet to a little stream, which was even smaller than usual because it was low tide. We were fishing for tiny mudskippers, little fish with bug-eyes that hang out in the mud on the shore. To fish these little guys out, you cast your line into the mud on the edge of the water waiting for the fish to scuttle over to the bait. That's the easy part - the difficult part is getting them into the bucket. Apparently, these are more expensive in the market than other fish because they're really hard to catch. These fish are too smart for my own good - as soon as I have them in the air moving toward the bucket, they open their mouths and flop back to the ground. A couple of the bigger ones are even smarter than that and just take little nibbles off the worm without grabbing on. As a result, the only catch to my name was mostly to Ming's credit - I lured teh fish up to my line then Ming lunged at it with the bucket, scooping up a huge chunk of mud with the fish, but it was still a success. No one caught many, but Van did the best catching two minnows and a mudfish. We certainly didn't have much in comparison to the family's full bucket of mudskippers, but I think we did pretty well for our first time.
When enough runners had arrived, Van Anh blew her plastic green whistle and called us back over to start the opening ceremony. Hieu was MC (no surprise there) and cheerfully greeted everyone in Vietnamese. We then handed out the free shirts to the contestants, most of whom were younger than me - the shirt was way too big for some of them, especially Thien (an adorable little boy that Molly may stow in her suitcase when we head back) who had a difficult time trying to tuck the tent-like shirt into his pants (it was absolutely adorable). The whole group then marched through the market, even more conspicuous with the tall yellow pennants some of us were carrying - somehow I got stuck carrying one of these flags, which almost turned disastrous when I nearly smacked into a low-hanging powerline with the pole. When we reached the starting line, we were pleasantly surprised to find even more yellow-shirted runners waiting for us (among them mother number nine who I couldn't believe was running at all).
We were delayed for a minute while a procession of vans and cars passed (an unusual sight in Mo Cay), the last one adorned with flowers and bearing a bride dressed in a traditional red audoi and disk-shaped hat. Once everyone was set, Alex blew the start whistle and all the kids took off at a sprint. I and the other DukeEngage students running in the back so we wouldn't be trampled by tiny feet. The kids of course couldn't keep up that pace so we soon caught up to them, though I got left behind by the other Americans in the process because I'm really out of shape and couldn't quite handle the tropical Vietnamese sun. Instead I set my own pace and took my time (occasionally taking some shaky photos along the way). About halfway through, I heard someone calling my name. I looked behind me to see Linh (the thirteen year-old girl in the class with the younger kids) with Yen (Ha's sister) on the back of her bike pulling up alongside me. They proceeded to ride next to me for the rest of the way. For the first stretch together, Yen held my hand and then Linh took over (riding one-handed). It was absolutely adorable and they kept me smiling and laughing the whole time (probably a good thing because there were cameras and cheering onlookers standing on the sidelines the whole way). The last quarter-mile was really hard for me - I was exhausted and on the verge of collapsing, but I refused to give up. At long last I saw Hieu up ahead waving a yellow pennant at the finish line - I wouldn't call it a sprint but I definitely sped up at the end and finally finished.
I was so excited, I couldn't (and still can't) believe I ran the whole way when I came into this expecting I would walk part of it. I was really proud of myself for pushing through the heat and humidity and coming out with my weak muscles still in tact. A lot of people finished ahead of me, but I took some comfort in the fact that a lot of those were younger kids who'd hitched rides on motorbikes most of the way. I might have done well, but Phil and Alex did even better - they finished sixth and ninth respectively, just behind a bunch of scrawny teenage boys who looked like a high school track team, the first place winner completing the entire race in only nine minutes, barefooted no less. For being in the top ten, each runner received ten notebooks, a gift that only seemed appropriate for the little kids so Phil and Alex gave theirs to our students. There were also five students (including Nhi and Thien) who were presented with scholarships and school uniforms. We were really confused why only these five received the scholarships since there were supposed to be almost eighty students getting them. Alice explained that these were the only ones who could come today since the rest were probably busy working in the fields (a rather sad thought) and would come by later to get their scholarships. Their absence was far more effective than their presence in driving home the purpose of this event. When we finished up at the closing ceremony, everyone felt ready to go back to the hotel, eat lunch, and take a long nap - that is until we realized it was only eight o'clock in the morning.
I couldn't believe how much of the day was left - it really goes to show you how much you can accomplish in a day if you get up at the crack of dawn. Since it was still so early, it seemed like a waste to just go right back to sleep. Instead, we accepted an invitation from one of the older school girls to go fishing.We went down a dirt path to her uncle's house and collected our own fishing supplies. A young boy of about twelve stirred up the earth with a machete while My, Phat, and I dug around in the dirt , pulling out tiny worms and placing them in an empty yogurt cup (a lot of them were miniscule so it was always really exciting to find a fat juicy one). I then made my own fishing pole out of a stalk of bamboo. Holding the stalk upright in front of me, I whacked off the leaves with swift downward swipes of the machete. After the bamboo was smoothed out, we tied strings and hooks to the end and walked a few feet to a little stream, which was even smaller than usual because it was low tide. We were fishing for tiny mudskippers, little fish with bug-eyes that hang out in the mud on the shore. To fish these little guys out, you cast your line into the mud on the edge of the water waiting for the fish to scuttle over to the bait. That's the easy part - the difficult part is getting them into the bucket. Apparently, these are more expensive in the market than other fish because they're really hard to catch. These fish are too smart for my own good - as soon as I have them in the air moving toward the bucket, they open their mouths and flop back to the ground. A couple of the bigger ones are even smarter than that and just take little nibbles off the worm without grabbing on. As a result, the only catch to my name was mostly to Ming's credit - I lured teh fish up to my line then Ming lunged at it with the bucket, scooping up a huge chunk of mud with the fish, but it was still a success. No one caught many, but Van did the best catching two minnows and a mudfish. We certainly didn't have much in comparison to the family's full bucket of mudskippers, but I think we did pretty well for our first time.
Vietnam Day 55 (8/2/09)
Will we never just have a quiet weekend to ourselves? This morning we rode off to attend a mandatory thank-you lunch hosted by the People's Committee vice-chairwoman. The chairwoman cleverly got out of doing any work herself by hosting the brunch at her sister's house. We started off the meal with the leaf cake and coconut milk I liked so much when we had it at the road-worker's house. When the rest of the food came out, I found myself eating only half the dishes (the porridge and banana flower) because the pork was especially fatty and the chicken and duck feet had really tough, chewy skin that made them hard to get into. The only thing I really loved was the kumquat juice that accompanied the meal. Throughout the meal, we had many speakers stand up to thank us - based on the translation they all said exactly the same thing: your work here is appreciated, good health to your families, and good luck in your studies (always a popular one). After we'd finished eating, Ming got it into his head to try to knock down a coconut like the locals do and he convinced Phat to do it with him. One of the men we'd been eating with (who I later found out has four wives) eagerly brought over the long stick with a sickle attached to the end and the boys gave it a try. We were all desperately afraid we'd have to send them back to Saigon on a stretcher (particularly accident-prone Ming) but fortunately they escaped without injury. Phat even succeeded in getting a coconut down and got to keep the coconut as a symbol of his victory. It was pretty impressive, though it was pretty funny when contrasted with the local man who cut it down with a single swipe. Nonetheless, I think I actually trusted Phat and Ming more with the large bladed pole, because this man had a very odd sense of humor. He kept trying (and failing) to scare us with the shell from an old bomb he had lying around the yard, jumping at us with it yelling "BOOM" - it made me wonder what he'd try with the pole if he really wanted to mess with us.
The evening was spent in preparation for tomorrow's Fun Run. The Fun Run is an event that we're hosting, a charity race where volunteers (like us) are running a 3K in the name of sponsors who donated money to our cause - we're giving scholarships and free school uniforms to about eighty underprivileged kids, many of whom are the children we teach in the afternoons. Since we were responsible for organizing the entire event, we held a long series of meetings throughout the night to solidify plans.
The evening was spent in preparation for tomorrow's Fun Run. The Fun Run is an event that we're hosting, a charity race where volunteers (like us) are running a 3K in the name of sponsors who donated money to our cause - we're giving scholarships and free school uniforms to about eighty underprivileged kids, many of whom are the children we teach in the afternoons. Since we were responsible for organizing the entire event, we held a long series of meetings throughout the night to solidify plans.
Vietnam Day 54 (8/1/09)
I would like to formally revise my prediction of the completion date for the toilet project. I'd guessed Tuesday only when I thought we were almost done with the walls, but now I see we still have to put cement on the inside walls as well. We sat around for a long time again today, but at least Ha and Yen came by today to entertain us. Mostly I just watched them play as they made a little seesaw out of a brick and a plank of wood and then Ha built a miniature house out of some of the extra bricks that were lying around. They picked some short reeds and taught us how to make pens out of them by stripping off the outer layers until you're left with a point at one end, which you deep in ink like a quill. These were the first pens ever used in this region. I sort of succeeded in making one of my own but the only one I'd actually try to write with is the one Ha gave me as a gift. All the work I could help with was done about half hour before it was time to head to lunch, so I decided to make use of my time.
Every day I look across the river at a white wooden bridge leading who knows where and today I finally satisfied my urge to go exploring. On the other side of the bridge I found similar sights to the ones I see every day on the little path used to get to the school - the same dogs, the same chickens sporadically running out in front of me. Along the road I found same odd mix of humble wooden huts and and colorful houses with the beautiful tiled patio like the one at the mom's house. And yet, even with all these identifiable commonalities, the ride still felt very different. The path was slightly wider, giving it a very open, sunny atmosphere. I passed a lot of cafes where people were lounging, as well as a beauty parlor that was an open-air hut with a thatched roof but equipped with electric hair-driers. My favorite scene was of two old men just sitting down to a game of Chinese chess on a key-lime green tile patio. I can't explain why but that sight put a smile on my face. Just by seeing other people live their lives I finally felt connected to the community after three weeks of highly-structured interactions with only members of the community who the People's Committee deemed it beneficial for us to meet. I rode down the winding path laughing to myself (which no doubt confused the crap out of anyone who saw me pass), as happy as I'd been since leaving Saigon - at long last, I feel blissfully content to be in Ben Tre.
I got back to the school in time to leave with Van Anh and Hieu but just as we finished cleaning up the back, it started to pour. Since Hieu was carrying the projector (and acts like a cat when it comes to getting wet) we couldn't just press on in the rain so we sat in the school and waited it out. I really love tropical rain storms, especially along the river where where you can see each drop hit the water and the palms blowing furiously in the wind. The contractor was laughing at me for taking pictures of hte rain but I was having fun. Still, I was ready to go by the time it stopped. It was the perfect day for a fantastic lunch from mom number nine, because I'd been hungry for two hours by the time we sat down to eat - we had egg rolls with some unidentifiable but tasty meat and a side plate of mixed vegetables. I went to the cafe, ordered a cafe sua nong, and sat down to write in my journal with the usual gaggle of children reading over my shoulder. Today Alice was there to translate what the kids were saying and it was really entertaining. First they talked about my notebook and how many n's I write (although I think they counted my r's and h's as well because their not used to seeing all print rather than cursive). Then they noticed that my ears weren't pierced (this came up because Nhi lost an earring so she put a tiny twig through the hole to keep it from closing (not the most sanitary solution but it works) and noted that because my hair wasn't as long as the other DukeEngage girls' I didn't have as many options of hairstyles. They also made some more serious comments, talking about money and how rich all their families are - apparently Ha is the richest because her family owns one hundred pigs (which I must say sounds like a lot to me too). It was really cute when they told us all we should get each other's phone numbers so we can visit each other when we get back to the United States - I don't think they realized that we go to the same school since we told them we're from different states. Our session ended with one of the boys saying numbers in Vietnamese trying to get me to say them in English, trying to test not my Vietnamese, but rather my English skills - he had to make sure I was qualified to teach them.
When the kids dragged us away from the cafe yelling that it was time for class, I suddenly felt really bad that all we had planned for the day was a movie. Sometimes I forget how easily entertained kids are but they just kept laughing at things I didn't realize were that funny. We showed them "A Bug's Life" with terrible dubbing and they laughed at everything even when they couldn't hear or understand. Gotta love that sense of humor.
Every day I look across the river at a white wooden bridge leading who knows where and today I finally satisfied my urge to go exploring. On the other side of the bridge I found similar sights to the ones I see every day on the little path used to get to the school - the same dogs, the same chickens sporadically running out in front of me. Along the road I found same odd mix of humble wooden huts and and colorful houses with the beautiful tiled patio like the one at the mom's house. And yet, even with all these identifiable commonalities, the ride still felt very different. The path was slightly wider, giving it a very open, sunny atmosphere. I passed a lot of cafes where people were lounging, as well as a beauty parlor that was an open-air hut with a thatched roof but equipped with electric hair-driers. My favorite scene was of two old men just sitting down to a game of Chinese chess on a key-lime green tile patio. I can't explain why but that sight put a smile on my face. Just by seeing other people live their lives I finally felt connected to the community after three weeks of highly-structured interactions with only members of the community who the People's Committee deemed it beneficial for us to meet. I rode down the winding path laughing to myself (which no doubt confused the crap out of anyone who saw me pass), as happy as I'd been since leaving Saigon - at long last, I feel blissfully content to be in Ben Tre.
I got back to the school in time to leave with Van Anh and Hieu but just as we finished cleaning up the back, it started to pour. Since Hieu was carrying the projector (and acts like a cat when it comes to getting wet) we couldn't just press on in the rain so we sat in the school and waited it out. I really love tropical rain storms, especially along the river where where you can see each drop hit the water and the palms blowing furiously in the wind. The contractor was laughing at me for taking pictures of hte rain but I was having fun. Still, I was ready to go by the time it stopped. It was the perfect day for a fantastic lunch from mom number nine, because I'd been hungry for two hours by the time we sat down to eat - we had egg rolls with some unidentifiable but tasty meat and a side plate of mixed vegetables. I went to the cafe, ordered a cafe sua nong, and sat down to write in my journal with the usual gaggle of children reading over my shoulder. Today Alice was there to translate what the kids were saying and it was really entertaining. First they talked about my notebook and how many n's I write (although I think they counted my r's and h's as well because their not used to seeing all print rather than cursive). Then they noticed that my ears weren't pierced (this came up because Nhi lost an earring so she put a tiny twig through the hole to keep it from closing (not the most sanitary solution but it works) and noted that because my hair wasn't as long as the other DukeEngage girls' I didn't have as many options of hairstyles. They also made some more serious comments, talking about money and how rich all their families are - apparently Ha is the richest because her family owns one hundred pigs (which I must say sounds like a lot to me too). It was really cute when they told us all we should get each other's phone numbers so we can visit each other when we get back to the United States - I don't think they realized that we go to the same school since we told them we're from different states. Our session ended with one of the boys saying numbers in Vietnamese trying to get me to say them in English, trying to test not my Vietnamese, but rather my English skills - he had to make sure I was qualified to teach them.
When the kids dragged us away from the cafe yelling that it was time for class, I suddenly felt really bad that all we had planned for the day was a movie. Sometimes I forget how easily entertained kids are but they just kept laughing at things I didn't realize were that funny. We showed them "A Bug's Life" with terrible dubbing and they laughed at everything even when they couldn't hear or understand. Gotta love that sense of humor.
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