Traveling Light

A funny thing happened at the Jesse Griego Kindergarten dedication. My friend Jim suddenly discovered he'd lost a lot of weight.

Because he says it so beautifully, I asked Jim if I could quote him here. With his permission, I share his words.

"The first time I went to Viet Nam, I experienced things and came home with a set of memories. I have carried those memories like a heavy pack for a long time. Now I have gone back to Viet Nam and experienced new things and have a whole new set of memories to dwell upon. At the moment the dedication plaque at the Jesse Kindergarten was unveiled, I felt the pack was not so heavy anymore. There is just a lightness about all of it. Peace.

"Jesse's mission is complete and I hope thousands of children pass through the school doors to learn and have fun. I was able to set Jesse's spirit free and in doing so, realized that for the first time in forty-one years, it is OK to be alive."

And how very, very glad I am that you are.

Bless you, my friend Jim. Now and always, I wish you peace.

NGO...EOD...UXO...QTP

While I'm prone to get most excited about schools and trees and micro-credit loans, those are only part of what PeaceTrees does so well. The other part -- without which the rest would be moot -- has to do with UXO and EOD.

For many of us (and by "us" I mean "me"), all those letters sound a bit like alphabet soup. So here's a quick primer.

PeaceTrees is a Non-Governmental Organization (NGO) that sponsors Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) teams to remove UneXploded Ordnance (UXO) in Quang Tri Province (QTP). OK -- I made up the QTP. But the rest of the acronyms are correct.

Now -- the ABCs of what it all means.

UXO is Unexploded Ordnance, described by the UN as "Explosive munitions such as mortars, artillery shells, grenades and mines, that have been primed, fused, armed or otherwise prepared for use or used. They could have been fired, dropped, launched, or projected yet remain unexploded either through function or design." This is the ugly, nasty, leftover stuff of war. It doesn't dissolve or biodegrade or disappear. It stays dangerous. It can look like a toy to a child, a source of profit to a poor entrepreneur, or it can simply be invisible to the farmer plowing a field. Pictured above are some mock-ups that PTVN (that's PeaceTrees Vietnam) uses for training children.

I've read varying statistics on the amount of ordnance used in Quang Tri Province from 1965-75, but it's almost always measured in tons per person. Tons. Per person. One source says the amount in Quang Tri -- which is roughly the size of Rhode Island -- exceeded all the ordnance used in Europe during World War II.

PeaceTrees' EOD team is a group of Vietnamese UXO-removal specialists who are trained to UN standards. They clear acreage for specific projects like the new Kindergarten; they also respond to calls from Quang Tri residents who find UXO. Highly volatile items might be destroyed on-site. Other items are removed, cached, and destroyed weekly.

The EOD team is responding to anywhere from 1,200 to 1,400 calls per month. There are plenty of false alarms, but the majority are real. If memory serves me correctly, they're destroying about 900 pieces of UXO monthly. And -- to their very great credit -- no one has ever been injured on the job.

We visited the team on March 21 after the Jesse Kindergarten dedication; they were working in an area near Khe Sanh. They led us to the cache site and showed us what they'd collected -- three days' worth.

We also learned that at the Jesse school, the EOD team had cleared 48 pieces of UXO prior to construction. Quite literally, none of the PTVN projects would be possible without them.

A very big thanks to this amazing team of EOD professionals for their life-saving work. They are, without a doubt, a TCA (Total Class Act).

Tell My Story

I'm back in Seattle now, enjoying a spot of sunshine in an otherwise very wet day and trying to decide if it violates some sort of basic blog rule if I keep posting these entries after my travels are done. But given that we crammed about forty days' worth of activities into a nine-day trip, I'm giving myself permission. And so... I'll continue to tell my story.

I'll begin with a long-neglected introduction.

Who was David Warner?

Water-skier, ravine-climber, pond-paddler, snow-skier, motorcycle-rider, smallest kid on the football team.

Ayn Rand reader, philosophizer, music-lover, photographer.

Mischief-maker, sister-provoker, quick-witted, kind-hearted, risk-taker.

Honest, funny, Eagle Scout, generous, savvy, brave, wry, tender at the bone.

First-born, devoted son, loyal friend, loving boyfriend, and One Awesome Big Brother.

Dave volunteered for the Marine Corps and he served well. He wanted to go to Vietnam - first for personal reasons (in one of his tapes home he explains, "I figure if you're ever going to learn about yourself, that's where it's going to be and your true beliefs are going to come out there.") There were other reasons -- political, pragmatic, economic -- but ultimately, as he said, "I have confidence in my own ability."

Those who were in Vietnam with him describe him as a good mentor, good leader, good friend, always willing to listen, always willing to serve.

Four years ago I made a promise. On that first trip to Hue City Chuck Meadows, my brother's former commanding officer, took me to the area where Dave lost his life. Standing at the edge of a shimmering, vibrant green rice paddy that day, I had an unexpected and profound sense of my brother's presence. It was as though he said two things: "I've been waiting for you," and "Tell my story."

And so I have, and so I will: in words, with a little school in A Xing, and by trying my best to spend my days as he might have done -- "living in color and laughing out loud." (Shawn Colvin)

The Butterfly Forest

It was set to be another stiflingly hot, muggy day in Dong Ha as we headed to the Danaan Perry Landmine Education Center (LEC for short). The van bumped down a rutted, red-dirt road and turned into a tree-lined driveway. Another few hundred yards and the air became cooler, sweeter, greener... and there we were.

We met with landmine victims that day, including Hoa, whose story and photo appeared in an earlier entry. We also had the chance to plant trees.

A forested park is no small thing in Quang Tri Province -- especially a safe forested park. The LEC sits on acres of land cleared of UXO. Past PeaceTrees travelers have planted thousands of trees, the oldest ones now easily ten times our height. Children come here from around the province for a weekend of fun and landmine education. In May the park will be filled with 400-500 young campers competing in artwork contests, looking at wooden models of dangerous ordnance, talking with landmine victims, playing games. Like a safe forest, a camping trip is no small thing in Quang Tri Province. It will be a great weekend for the kids.

Most of the trees in the park are acacias, planted when they were waist-high saplings. We planted taller trees that day, hardwoods. I liked the sense of permanence in their strong trunks and smooth bark. We planted on a slope that dipped down to a muddy stream where we filled our watering cans. Working alongside our Vietnamese PeaceTrees partners we added seventy trees to the forest, including several planted in remembrance of friends and family members.

For me, our tree-planting both honored the past and celebrated the future. As the trees grow, their roots will keep them grounded and their branches will stretch toward the sun. I like to think my own growth in Vietnam has been much the same.

Call it coincidence, but on my prior trips small yellow butterflies have made some uncanny cameo appearances. They have consistently shown up at moments of significance or remembrance. Even on this trip, a yellow butterfly flew right alongside my window for several minutes as our plane taxied to the terminal at Hue/PhuBai airport, my personal welcoming committee. So it seemed fitting that as we planted and dedicated new trees we were kept company by dozens of butterflies -- not just yellow ones this time, but orange, iridescent blue, black, striped, spotted... like winged works of art. It felt as though what had once symbolized remembrance now represented a joyful future. One of our travelers christened the place "the Butterfly Forest," and the name stuck. I hope our little grove will welcome Vietnamese children for many generations to come.

When I got back to the hotel that night, Hoa -- the landmine survivor -- had sent me an email. It said simply, "Dear Miss Sue: Today I am very happy."

Dear Hoa: Today, so am I.

Dong Ha Doings

With all the excitement on Saturday I was just a little concerned that the next part of the trip might be anticlimactic. I needn't have been.

The past few days have been full, as evidenced by the lack of updates.

Sunday we took in some of Quang Tri's better-known tourist sites, visiting the Vinh Moc Tunnels and Ben Hai River Bridge, swimming and lunching at Cua Tung beach, and paying our respects at the Truong Son Cemetery, the Arlington of (North) Vietnam. Details are readily available via "the Google," so I'll spare them here. We bade farewell that evening to our friends from the Quang Tri Department of Foreign Affairs and the head of the Women's Union, packed our bags and got an abbreviated night's sleep... up early the next morning and off to Hue City.

Much more to share about Hue, Hanoi, tree-planting, and what it all means, but my flight's departing in just few minutes. Stay tuned!

Growing and Thriving

Two years ago today we dedicated the David Warner Kindergarten, on what would have been Dave's sixty-first birthday. It's the present that keeps on giving: the school is thriving and fifty happy children attend every day.

Pulling up to the front gate I initially didn't recognize the place -- the trees we planted in March 2007 have grown into a beautiful, shady grove.

Friends and neighbors were waiting on the front steps when we arrived, and the kids were ready to receive us with very enthusiastically-performed songs.


The atmosphere in the classroom is dynamic and happy; the yellow walls are covered in learning aids, decorations, and student artwork.

We stopped for gift-giving and picture-taking, then said our good-byes... till next time.



Happy birthday, David. You'll be glad to know that your kids are doing just fine.

Dedication Day

Just a quick update before my head hits the pillow.

Today - March 21 in Vietnam - we had the joy and honor of dedicating the Jesse Griego Kindergarten in a little village called A Xing, populated by Van Kieu and Pa Co ethnic minority people.


Nearly 200 children and adults were waiting when we arrived and welcomed us warmly. Various community and provincial dignitaries gave their speeches, and then Jim shared a few words - eloquent and straight from the heart. Some of the new Kindergartners performed songs and dances (enjoyed by all, and much too cute for words). And finally, Jim and the other speakers went to the wall of the school and unveiled the dedication plaque.

We shared lunch with the dignitaries -- A Xing home cooking, eaten with hands and/or chopsticks, sharing a common jug of rice hooch, seated on floor mats in the new classroom (I keep reminding myself that any food prepared with love has to be good for me... but I did dodge the chicken feet). The rest of the village shared the celebratory meal outside. Next it was time to hand out sweets and presents to the many, many children who were there, and to present the Kindergarten teacher with bundles of supplies for the new classroom, generously donated by my friends from Southminster Presbyterian.

So many beautiful children, now with a brighter future. Jesse's life on earth was short, but thanks to Jim and the wonderful donors who contributed to the project, his legacy will last for a long, long time.

Here's to Jesse, and here's to Jim.
Semper Fi.