Today at the toilet site was more of the same. We mixed cement and then sat around while the contractor finished siding the other two walls. We had another held up today when it actually did rain and some of the newly laid cement started to drip. We quickly covered the walls by perching planks of wood over the top then mixed in the remaining cement before it could harden and patched up the dripping walls. This is ending up taking much longer than I expected - we thought we were going to be done by last weekend but my new prediction is that we'll finish by next Tuesday. If I'm right, I'll be bored for another week yet. All of my blisters are going away with all this sitting around. I thought about going over to help the road group for a couple of days just so I could feel useful, but then I really do want to see my project through to the end. At least there are occasionally entertaining visitors coming to the school. Yesterday a couple of people from the local chapter of the Youth Union came by and gave us a care package of coconut candy and sweetsoup fixings. Later a woman from the People's Committee complimented us on the path we'd made before. She said she was impressed that we'd never done anything like this before and were still able to do such a good job (at least that's what I'm extrapolating although if the direct translation was correct she actually said we did nothing at all before).
There was also a pig harvesting day which we were inadvertently thrown in the middle of. The owners were all sitting in a circle in front of the school chatting while the sellers weighed and painted a number on each pig before leading it to a canoe which was docked right next to our toilet. The pigs seemed perfectly fine but it was sad because I knew they were on their way to be slaughtered. But that's the fate of most the world's pigs I suppose. The riverboats here are awesome - they're thin wooden oversized canoes decorated with colorful blues and reds and painted eyes on the bow. As long as I stay here I may not get to do much but at least there are interesting sights and of course, lots of Vietnamese sweet tea.
I only taught about fifteen minutes of science class today. The rockets looked really great and were all decorated so creatively (one boy even made the tip of his rocket with the tip of an eye-dropper rather than paper) - I was impressed and the kids had a lot of fun with the launch. We then moved over to the little kids who were supposed to be having "fun time" which was completely unorganized today. We kept them occupied for about fifteen minutes with Wen and Khang's catapult (which we probably should have cleared with the People's Committee because they were looking on with concerned faces).
When we got back, Kendra, Van, and I got sugarcane from across the street and just sat outside the lobby talking about the differences between our perceptions of Vietnam and America. In the process, we met the owner of the hotel when he politely asked us to move our bikes so he could park his big-ass Chevy. You could tell this guy was loaded because an imported car like that is ridiculously expensive here and he was wearing clothes only recognizable to our generation because of "That 70's Show." It was kind of jarring to look at him because it's so different from how everyone here dresses. In Saigon, everyone wore Western clothes and that's true here only to a much lesser extent. Overall people are more comfortable here wearing traditional Vietnamese clothing like the single-colored shirt-pant combos for women. By comparison, the hotel owners pale yellow paisley shirt and polyester hot pants were a bit jarring.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Vietnam Day 52 (7/29/09)
I mentioned before that I'm becoming quite a speed-demon on the bike. That's not necessarily because I'm in control, but I am getting good enough to enjoy the scenery along the way. The ride along the small path is surreally beautiful as we pass under the shade of palm branches hanging over the trail. Bamboo and lush tropical shrubs brush my legs (and sometimes my face) as I pass. Apart from the motorbikes and children riding their bikes past us (often two or three to a bike), we also came across a lot of pedestrians. Today we passed a family with grown daughters all pitching in to gather reeds from down in one of the shallower ditches just off the road. Every day we pass groups of elderly women, always in threes, walking single file in their conical hats, laughing and gossiping. I've noticed the women who walk alone return my smiles with changeless stony expressions, but the women in these gaggles always smile and sometimes reach out and touch my arm (which, I can't lie, freaked me out a little when I was trying to control the bike).
Today the rest of the group went to the site of the new road so it was just me, Van Anh, and Hieu at the school working on the toilet with the contractor. Sorry, perhaps the term "working" is too strong. I felt entirely useless. We mixed three batches of cement and then spent the rest of the morning literally sitting on our asses on piles of bricks watching the contractor put in the doors we painted yesterday and then add a smooth layer of cement over the outside of one of the brick laws. He was going to do the same thing with the other two walls but then the rain clouds started rolling in and the wind picked up like it was going to storm so we hastily covered the classroom for safekeeping. Just as I walked out from putting the last few shovels inside, the sun came back out and the clouds moved on. Van Anh said the gods were playing with us. It appears she was correct because five minutes later we encountered another delay. The tiny, frail old woman that keeps the key to the school came over to observe our progress. Not knowing that the cement holding the door in hadn't hardened yet, she tried to open the door, instead pushing the hinges clear out of the wall (something I would never have thought possible for such a small person). We had to stop again to go through another long process of attaching the door. By that point, it seemed clear that the contractor wouldn't be finishing siding the other two walls today so we gave him as much cement as we needed then left to see if we could be more useful at the road.
The road crew is making incredible progress. Of course the locals won't trust our group with any cement mixing or laying but then there are quite a few locals working on the path so it's still coming along quickly. The students have been transporting bags of rocks and sand all morning so they're pretty tired. I originally thought the road group didn't get to do anything today except lift bags, but then I found out they've also been doing a lot of eating. The people who live around the work-site have been bringing them tons of foot throughout the day; starchy corn, odd fruits, and coconuts (which I arrived just in time to partake of). I saw the bags of rocks and thought I was finally going to get my chance to do some hard manual labor, but I'd only carried two bags before everyone stopped for the day. The locals had one more edible treat for us before we could go. I didn't feel like I'd earned it but one of the neighbors gave us all sweet soup made from water coconut. It was very different from the sweetsoups we've had in the past - it was much less heavy with a coconut milk base and lots of pieces of cocnut and little colorful balls of tapioca, all served in "Merry Christmas" mugs. It was excellent but no one from the road group had any appetite for lunch (which was fine, more for me).
We didn't have a science class today so Wen and Khang used the time to finalize work on the catapult. They managed to fix the mechanics, not with the help of the carpenter, but with the help of a twelve-year old who figured out that by attaching a bungee cord to one end you could make it spring-loaded. Since we had free time this afternoon, Van Anh went with me to the market to get some cheap adidas sweat pants (which somehow every person in this region owns). Later when Kendra got back from the school, I took her back to the market so she could get the pants too. We went without a roommate but I learned the word for tailor so we managed to get it sent to the tailors without any problem. After that however, the language barrier became a bit of a problem. They spoke to me as if I understood conversational Vietnamese, offering no hand gestures or context clues. I spent the longest time asking how long it would take for the pants to be finished, pointing at the minutes hand on my watch, offering suggestions of five or ten while pointing adamantly at the tailor shop. It was hopeless though - they didn't understand any of our impromptu sign language so Kendra and I decided to just go on an adventure and check back later. We bought a couple of sticky rice bananas and munched on them while we walked around the market. The market is actually quite extensive, selling some pretty nice things, including gorgeous fruit that we plan to come back for and coincidentally the same adidas pants we just bought found at two other stalls. By the time I finished my banana, we had made it back around to the pants stand where we found the pants waiting but not the shirt Kendra had sent along with it to be mended. We proceeded to have an excessively confusing conversation with the vendors. After a couple repetitions we caught the word "sach" meaning clean (which we only know because the girls at school are always commenting on which parts of cloths are clean or dirty after the morning's work) and figured out that they were having the shirt cleaned before Kendra could pick it up. I was pretty impressed that we deciphered that conversation (and by we, I mean Kendra of course). I feel like I should have been carrying around a dictionary the whole time I've been in Vietnam - it's certainly been an interesting experience trying to communicate without one but I haven't been making things easy on myself.
The rest of the night we just watched Hercules, Kendra and I turning it into our own personal karaoke session. I know I complain a lot about the hotel, but we really are spoiled here, watching movies all the time and having internet in the lobby. Apparently the other Green Summer participants are actually living in huts with local families, eating questionable food and showering with chemically treated river water. It's only because the People's Comity wants foreigners to have the best possible perception of their town that we're in a hotel at all. In a way, I'd rather be in the huts. Good or bad, at least that would be unique cultural experience.
Today the rest of the group went to the site of the new road so it was just me, Van Anh, and Hieu at the school working on the toilet with the contractor. Sorry, perhaps the term "working" is too strong. I felt entirely useless. We mixed three batches of cement and then spent the rest of the morning literally sitting on our asses on piles of bricks watching the contractor put in the doors we painted yesterday and then add a smooth layer of cement over the outside of one of the brick laws. He was going to do the same thing with the other two walls but then the rain clouds started rolling in and the wind picked up like it was going to storm so we hastily covered the classroom for safekeeping. Just as I walked out from putting the last few shovels inside, the sun came back out and the clouds moved on. Van Anh said the gods were playing with us. It appears she was correct because five minutes later we encountered another delay. The tiny, frail old woman that keeps the key to the school came over to observe our progress. Not knowing that the cement holding the door in hadn't hardened yet, she tried to open the door, instead pushing the hinges clear out of the wall (something I would never have thought possible for such a small person). We had to stop again to go through another long process of attaching the door. By that point, it seemed clear that the contractor wouldn't be finishing siding the other two walls today so we gave him as much cement as we needed then left to see if we could be more useful at the road.
The road crew is making incredible progress. Of course the locals won't trust our group with any cement mixing or laying but then there are quite a few locals working on the path so it's still coming along quickly. The students have been transporting bags of rocks and sand all morning so they're pretty tired. I originally thought the road group didn't get to do anything today except lift bags, but then I found out they've also been doing a lot of eating. The people who live around the work-site have been bringing them tons of foot throughout the day; starchy corn, odd fruits, and coconuts (which I arrived just in time to partake of). I saw the bags of rocks and thought I was finally going to get my chance to do some hard manual labor, but I'd only carried two bags before everyone stopped for the day. The locals had one more edible treat for us before we could go. I didn't feel like I'd earned it but one of the neighbors gave us all sweet soup made from water coconut. It was very different from the sweetsoups we've had in the past - it was much less heavy with a coconut milk base and lots of pieces of cocnut and little colorful balls of tapioca, all served in "Merry Christmas" mugs. It was excellent but no one from the road group had any appetite for lunch (which was fine, more for me).
We didn't have a science class today so Wen and Khang used the time to finalize work on the catapult. They managed to fix the mechanics, not with the help of the carpenter, but with the help of a twelve-year old who figured out that by attaching a bungee cord to one end you could make it spring-loaded. Since we had free time this afternoon, Van Anh went with me to the market to get some cheap adidas sweat pants (which somehow every person in this region owns). Later when Kendra got back from the school, I took her back to the market so she could get the pants too. We went without a roommate but I learned the word for tailor so we managed to get it sent to the tailors without any problem. After that however, the language barrier became a bit of a problem. They spoke to me as if I understood conversational Vietnamese, offering no hand gestures or context clues. I spent the longest time asking how long it would take for the pants to be finished, pointing at the minutes hand on my watch, offering suggestions of five or ten while pointing adamantly at the tailor shop. It was hopeless though - they didn't understand any of our impromptu sign language so Kendra and I decided to just go on an adventure and check back later. We bought a couple of sticky rice bananas and munched on them while we walked around the market. The market is actually quite extensive, selling some pretty nice things, including gorgeous fruit that we plan to come back for and coincidentally the same adidas pants we just bought found at two other stalls. By the time I finished my banana, we had made it back around to the pants stand where we found the pants waiting but not the shirt Kendra had sent along with it to be mended. We proceeded to have an excessively confusing conversation with the vendors. After a couple repetitions we caught the word "sach" meaning clean (which we only know because the girls at school are always commenting on which parts of cloths are clean or dirty after the morning's work) and figured out that they were having the shirt cleaned before Kendra could pick it up. I was pretty impressed that we deciphered that conversation (and by we, I mean Kendra of course). I feel like I should have been carrying around a dictionary the whole time I've been in Vietnam - it's certainly been an interesting experience trying to communicate without one but I haven't been making things easy on myself.
The rest of the night we just watched Hercules, Kendra and I turning it into our own personal karaoke session. I know I complain a lot about the hotel, but we really are spoiled here, watching movies all the time and having internet in the lobby. Apparently the other Green Summer participants are actually living in huts with local families, eating questionable food and showering with chemically treated river water. It's only because the People's Comity wants foreigners to have the best possible perception of their town that we're in a hotel at all. In a way, I'd rather be in the huts. Good or bad, at least that would be unique cultural experience.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Vietnam Day 51 (7/28/09)
There wasn't a whole lot of work again today after we mixed the first batch of cement. Still, I got a little variety when I was asked to paint the doors for the toilet. We're using this Duke blue paint that is made with gasoline (which the ten-year old Nhi purchased for us) and gives off noxious fumes that can theoretically make you high if you breathe in too much. I avoided that by wearing a carpenter's mask and breathing through my mouth but every time I accidentally took a whiff I started gagging. It was a bit awkward to paint the doors propped up against the front gate because more photographers and reporters showed up again today. I don't know how there can be this many publications in a town this small but there seems to be an endless supply of photographers taking artsy shots of us painting.
Now that I'm done painting, there's nothing to do again for a while as we wait for the contractor to finish laying bricks so we can cement the outside. It feels like we have a long way to go because we still need to put in the actual toilets and pipes, the doors, and the roof and I'm not sure how long all of that will take. The school group on the other hand just finished and will be starting work on a small road tomorrow. I do feel a sense of accomplishment with the school being done - I wasn't technically on the team but I ended up coming around so many times to help when there was nothing to do with the toilet, so I think I contributed something. I just hope the toilet doesn't take too much longer because it will be quite lonely here after the school group leaves.
We didn't have time to do the cement siding so I left with the school group to check out the road I will soon be joining them on (with any luck). It was just off the road we usually take to the school except this one is even more curvy and narrow. I only just got used to the other road and now we're stepping up the difficulty level again. The road we're building is currently a dirt path and we'll be laying cement over the top of it. We walked down the path to scope it out, but it just kept going. At every turn I expected it to end but it never did. Finally we reached the bridge that marked the end. The workers who will be helping us were already there starting to lay concrete. They were all very nice but they were skeptical at first as to whether we were capable of mixing the concrete, but Loan assured them that we'd done it before. The people whose house lies next to the road was so considerate - when they heard we were coming they made us way too much of a delicious cake that's a Ben Tre specialty. It's not so much a cake as a pile of leaves (unique to the region) that have been battered in dough and boiled and are served with warm coconut milk (which is thick and sweet like cream). It was very good but we had to go to lunch at the moms' house right after so all five of us together only finished about one out of three plates of the cake. Hopefully they weren't offended because it really was a nice gesture.
We tried just relaxing again at the house during our break but the kids wasted no time in finding us so we just went to the cafe so we could at least get our caffeine fix. And did we ever - after our coffees we all felt rejuvenated. As Molly said, it's like a drug, and a necessary one to since class was a little rough today. The experiment was certainly interesting enough (Khang made a paper bowl, then put water in it and held it over a flame and the paper neither disintegrated nor burned) but a lot of the kids were being "naughty" and we were struggling to stretch the classes out for the full time. It was worse in the second class because the students from the first had already spoiled the surprise and told them about the experiment. As a result, they were bored and even more unruly. I find it difficult to discipline kids here not only because of the language barrier but also because I can't always tell what behavior is and isn't acceptable in a different culture. Still, we made it through (though we had to let the second class out a little early) and spent some time afterwards playing with them outside.
Now that I'm done painting, there's nothing to do again for a while as we wait for the contractor to finish laying bricks so we can cement the outside. It feels like we have a long way to go because we still need to put in the actual toilets and pipes, the doors, and the roof and I'm not sure how long all of that will take. The school group on the other hand just finished and will be starting work on a small road tomorrow. I do feel a sense of accomplishment with the school being done - I wasn't technically on the team but I ended up coming around so many times to help when there was nothing to do with the toilet, so I think I contributed something. I just hope the toilet doesn't take too much longer because it will be quite lonely here after the school group leaves.
We didn't have time to do the cement siding so I left with the school group to check out the road I will soon be joining them on (with any luck). It was just off the road we usually take to the school except this one is even more curvy and narrow. I only just got used to the other road and now we're stepping up the difficulty level again. The road we're building is currently a dirt path and we'll be laying cement over the top of it. We walked down the path to scope it out, but it just kept going. At every turn I expected it to end but it never did. Finally we reached the bridge that marked the end. The workers who will be helping us were already there starting to lay concrete. They were all very nice but they were skeptical at first as to whether we were capable of mixing the concrete, but Loan assured them that we'd done it before. The people whose house lies next to the road was so considerate - when they heard we were coming they made us way too much of a delicious cake that's a Ben Tre specialty. It's not so much a cake as a pile of leaves (unique to the region) that have been battered in dough and boiled and are served with warm coconut milk (which is thick and sweet like cream). It was very good but we had to go to lunch at the moms' house right after so all five of us together only finished about one out of three plates of the cake. Hopefully they weren't offended because it really was a nice gesture.
We tried just relaxing again at the house during our break but the kids wasted no time in finding us so we just went to the cafe so we could at least get our caffeine fix. And did we ever - after our coffees we all felt rejuvenated. As Molly said, it's like a drug, and a necessary one to since class was a little rough today. The experiment was certainly interesting enough (Khang made a paper bowl, then put water in it and held it over a flame and the paper neither disintegrated nor burned) but a lot of the kids were being "naughty" and we were struggling to stretch the classes out for the full time. It was worse in the second class because the students from the first had already spoiled the surprise and told them about the experiment. As a result, they were bored and even more unruly. I find it difficult to discipline kids here not only because of the language barrier but also because I can't always tell what behavior is and isn't acceptable in a different culture. Still, we made it through (though we had to let the second class out a little early) and spent some time afterwards playing with them outside.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Vietnam Day 50 (7/27/09)
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.
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.
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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