“…In truth, grief is a great teacher, when it sends us back to serve and bless the living. Thus, even when they are gone, they are with us… We remember them now, they live in our hearts; they are an abiding blessing.” - Gates of Prayer, The New Union Prayer Book
I’ve been home from Vietnam two-and-a-half weeks. I expected that by now I would have had ample time to reflect on the trip, gather my thoughts and write some terrific final chapter to the Kindergarten story. But the truth is I’m still steeping in the experience, still putting my thoughts together, and finally realizing that the Kindergarten is just one chapter in a bigger story.
My journey to Vietnam started with the loss of a brother nearly forty years ago; my involvement with PeaceTrees and the Vietnamese people will, I hope, continue for many years to come. I love the fact that something rooted in sorrow has now spread its branches in joy, and am reminded of a quote by John Welwood: "…the heart cannot actually break, it can only break open. When we feel both our love for this world and the pain of this world—together, at the same time—the heart breaks out of its shell. To live with an open heart is to experience life full-strength." This trip was filled with moments of open-hearted, full-strength wonder.
The images that stay with me are a patchwork of contrasts: shimmering emerald rice paddies and the jumbled concrete buildings of roadside towns; a profusion of butterflies and streets buzzing with motor scooters; older faces lined with stories and younger faces shining with possibilities. Over and over I saw juxtapositions of rural traditions and urban commercialism, old and new, east and west. But the images that remain most vivid – the ones I see when I close my eyes – are those of children. They are images of eager eyes, shy smiles, laughter, curiosity, delight, and hope.
And then there’s the David Warner Kindergarten. Being in A Xing, being able to see the results of so many people’s gifts and efforts, was both humbling and exhilarating. I wish everyone who was part of the project – donors, supporters, encouragers – could have been there to share in the celebration. For me, the school represents a timeless community of family and friends. It is peacemaking at the most basic level. It is tangible compassion. To all those who made it possible: my deepest, heartfelt thanks.
So… now what? The trip is over, but the work is not. There is more to do at the David Warner Kindergarten. The kitchen has been built, but the school needs funds for food. The fence has been built, but families still need microcredit loans that will create economic growth and self-sufficiency. And as always, there are more people to meet, more trees to plant, more friendships to forge.
I hope everyone who has been involved with the Kindergarten will consider making a PeaceTrees trip, and I hope everyone with an interest in PeaceTrees will let others know about the good work that is being done. I invite you to pass along my blog link and the PeaceTrees URL. The more people who are aware of the needs and opportunities, the more good we can do together.
I’ll still be posting a link to my photo albums, and there may be more stories and updates to share in the future. But for now I turn the page with gratitude, and look forward with hope and anticipation to the next chapter. Thanks, one and all, for an extraordinary and joyful journey.
Love,
Sue
19 April 2007
04 April 2007
And the Food Award Goes to...
By all rights I should have gained ten pounds on this trip. If you've never thought of Vietnam as a dining destination, think again. The cuisine is complex and sophisticated; richly-spiced, but not spicy-hot. It reflects French and Chinese influences, but is distinctively different from either.
In celebration of our most memorable meals, here are my award-winning favorites. I'm ready for an encore any time. The envelope, please...
Best presentation: Prawns poached in young coconut milk, served in a hollowed, husk-encased coconut with a couple of decorative green onion 'straws'.
Best sound effects: the staccato *pop*pop*pop* of moist towelette packages before every restaurant meal. Do like the locals do: squeeze the packet in one hand, smack it with the palm of the other. POP!
Best soup: Pho, of course. Beef. Huge bowls of it, accompanied by fresh basil, cilantro, bean sprouts, and chopped red chili peppers.
Best meal: The feast prepared by Mr. Duc’s wife, Gai, in their tiny Hue home (see “Hue a la Duc” for details). Next time, I want cooking lessons.
Best special effects: A whole fish, battered and deep fried, festooned with some of the scales, served in the upright and swimming position. The waiter used his chopsticks to artfully remove a chunk of the delicate white meat, which was served in a thin rice wrapper with fresh vegetables.
Best supporting garnish: hard-cooked quail eggs, cut in half and arranged in concentric circles with cashews on a meat dish.
Best foreign actor: Baguette – it’s what’s for breakfast. Pack the peanut butter and pass the Laughing Cow cheese.
Best spring roll: The classic Hoi An roll, wrapped in shredded threads of dough and deep fried. It’s the crispiest!
Best performance by a single ingredient: Snake – inside and outside, tip to tail, start to finish. It's a living reptile AND a dinner! It’s an entrée AND a beverage! It’s also skin fritters, and soup, and spring rolls, and stir fry... oh, and let’s wash it down with one of those snake blood shooters. Supper of champions!
Best beverage: The ever-popular café sua nam – drip filter coffee served with copious amounts of sweetened, condensed milk. The runner up in this category is the also-popular Huda brand Very Light Lager Beer. Huda best? You da best!
Best ice cream: Anything but durian fruit. Honest – I thought it was supposed to taste better than it smelled. WHY would people eat something that has the intense odor (and I'm being charitable here) of old laundry? "Gosh, this is foul... let's eat it! No, wait -- let's turn it into ice cream!"
Most exotic fruit: This is a tough category - so many contenders! But the award goes to the dragon fruit. Hot pink on the outside, it has a starkly-white flesh that is peppered with tiny black seeds. It's somewhat flavorless, but when you're that beautiful, who cares?
Best dessert: What? You mean there was dessert?
In celebration of our most memorable meals, here are my award-winning favorites. I'm ready for an encore any time. The envelope, please...
Best presentation: Prawns poached in young coconut milk, served in a hollowed, husk-encased coconut with a couple of decorative green onion 'straws'.
Best sound effects: the staccato *pop*pop*pop* of moist towelette packages before every restaurant meal. Do like the locals do: squeeze the packet in one hand, smack it with the palm of the other. POP!
Best soup: Pho, of course. Beef. Huge bowls of it, accompanied by fresh basil, cilantro, bean sprouts, and chopped red chili peppers.
Best meal: The feast prepared by Mr. Duc’s wife, Gai, in their tiny Hue home (see “Hue a la Duc” for details). Next time, I want cooking lessons.
Best special effects: A whole fish, battered and deep fried, festooned with some of the scales, served in the upright and swimming position. The waiter used his chopsticks to artfully remove a chunk of the delicate white meat, which was served in a thin rice wrapper with fresh vegetables.
Best supporting garnish: hard-cooked quail eggs, cut in half and arranged in concentric circles with cashews on a meat dish.
Best foreign actor: Baguette – it’s what’s for breakfast. Pack the peanut butter and pass the Laughing Cow cheese.
Best spring roll: The classic Hoi An roll, wrapped in shredded threads of dough and deep fried. It’s the crispiest!
Best performance by a single ingredient: Snake – inside and outside, tip to tail, start to finish. It's a living reptile AND a dinner! It’s an entrée AND a beverage! It’s also skin fritters, and soup, and spring rolls, and stir fry... oh, and let’s wash it down with one of those snake blood shooters. Supper of champions!
Best beverage: The ever-popular café sua nam – drip filter coffee served with copious amounts of sweetened, condensed milk. The runner up in this category is the also-popular Huda brand Very Light Lager Beer. Huda best? You da best!
Best ice cream: Anything but durian fruit. Honest – I thought it was supposed to taste better than it smelled. WHY would people eat something that has the intense odor (and I'm being charitable here) of old laundry? "Gosh, this is foul... let's eat it! No, wait -- let's turn it into ice cream!"
Most exotic fruit: This is a tough category - so many contenders! But the award goes to the dragon fruit. Hot pink on the outside, it has a starkly-white flesh that is peppered with tiny black seeds. It's somewhat flavorless, but when you're that beautiful, who cares?
Best dessert: What? You mean there was dessert?
03 April 2007
Hanoi and Homecoming
How strange to wake to frost in the garden this morning, instead of a fog of condensation billowing from a hotel room air conditioner. Add "weather whiplash" to the list of homecoming adjustments -- a list which includes "boy, it's nice not to have to squat," "here's 120,000 dong - keep the change," "please pass the pumpkin vines," and "hey, where are all my wonderful travel buddies?"
It would be unfair to Vietnam if I didn't describe Hanoi. It struck me as a city of contrasts: Chinese and Viet, ancient and modern, reserved and entrepreneurial, contemplative and crazy-busy. Vestiges of colonialism are still found in the cuisine, the French quarter, and the elegance of the Metropole Hotel. And yet this is the city of Ho Chi Minh: his government, his home, and even his preserved body (on display for the public, touched-up annually, with a better-than-Botox complexion).
Hanoi smiles are subtler, shyer, slower than in the south. In a few instances -- usually with older people -- my greetings were met with stares, nothing else. It made me wonder what else those eyes had seen through the years. There were 58,000 U.S. fatalities in the Vietnam War; if we had lost the same percentage of our population as the Vietnamese, that number would have been 10 million. Perhaps the cool formality I observed was merely a cultural difference, but I couldn't help but think that my American face might be a reminder of some long-ago loss.
Our hotel was located in Hanoi's old quarter: narrow streets, tiny storefronts, street vendors, souvenir shops, taxis, tourists, and the ubiquitous motorbikes. As with Saigon, just one false step differentiates a pedestrian from a speed bump. In search of some calm and quiet on our last full day, I went out for an early-morning walk around the small and lovely Hoan Kiem Lake.
Though ringed with commercial buildings and relentless, honking traffic, the lake and its surrounding park provide a small oasis of tranquility. At 6:30 a.m. there were already plenty of locals there, most of them senior citizens, doing tai-chi and playing badminton. My favorite was the little woman in her '80's who was all by herself, smiling widely and dancing at the lake shore. It looked like she was doing a cross between the Charleston and the chicken dance - whatever it was, it made her very happy. Made me happy, too. Would that I could greet each day that joyfully.
Centered and refreshed, I joined up with some fellow travelers to spending the day shopping, dining and touring. This turned out to be a far better option than packing, as a power failure left our rooms swelteringly hot. We visited the Temple of Literature (the lit-lover in me swoons at this concept -- can you imagine such a thing in the U.S.?) and dined at a place with fabulous Vietnamese food called KOTO -- "know one, teach one" -- that trains disadvantaged kids for careers in the catering and hospitality industries. Back to the hotel... still no power, so there was only one solution: ice cream. By the time we licked up the last delicious drips (coffee flavor - I learned the hard way to avoid the exotic fruits) the power was back on and it was time to dress and depart for our farewell dinner. I was privileged to travel with a great group - so many experiences, insights, and stories. The trip has been the richer for sharing it with all of them.
During the next two weeks I'll offer a final few posts. Watch for photos (these ones with captions), some notes on food, plans for future projects, and some closing thoughts after I've had time to reflect on and integrate more of our experiences. Thanks again for being part of my journey.
It would be unfair to Vietnam if I didn't describe Hanoi. It struck me as a city of contrasts: Chinese and Viet, ancient and modern, reserved and entrepreneurial, contemplative and crazy-busy. Vestiges of colonialism are still found in the cuisine, the French quarter, and the elegance of the Metropole Hotel. And yet this is the city of Ho Chi Minh: his government, his home, and even his preserved body (on display for the public, touched-up annually, with a better-than-Botox complexion).
Hanoi smiles are subtler, shyer, slower than in the south. In a few instances -- usually with older people -- my greetings were met with stares, nothing else. It made me wonder what else those eyes had seen through the years. There were 58,000 U.S. fatalities in the Vietnam War; if we had lost the same percentage of our population as the Vietnamese, that number would have been 10 million. Perhaps the cool formality I observed was merely a cultural difference, but I couldn't help but think that my American face might be a reminder of some long-ago loss.
Our hotel was located in Hanoi's old quarter: narrow streets, tiny storefronts, street vendors, souvenir shops, taxis, tourists, and the ubiquitous motorbikes. As with Saigon, just one false step differentiates a pedestrian from a speed bump. In search of some calm and quiet on our last full day, I went out for an early-morning walk around the small and lovely Hoan Kiem Lake.
Though ringed with commercial buildings and relentless, honking traffic, the lake and its surrounding park provide a small oasis of tranquility. At 6:30 a.m. there were already plenty of locals there, most of them senior citizens, doing tai-chi and playing badminton. My favorite was the little woman in her '80's who was all by herself, smiling widely and dancing at the lake shore. It looked like she was doing a cross between the Charleston and the chicken dance - whatever it was, it made her very happy. Made me happy, too. Would that I could greet each day that joyfully.
Centered and refreshed, I joined up with some fellow travelers to spending the day shopping, dining and touring. This turned out to be a far better option than packing, as a power failure left our rooms swelteringly hot. We visited the Temple of Literature (the lit-lover in me swoons at this concept -- can you imagine such a thing in the U.S.?) and dined at a place with fabulous Vietnamese food called KOTO -- "know one, teach one" -- that trains disadvantaged kids for careers in the catering and hospitality industries. Back to the hotel... still no power, so there was only one solution: ice cream. By the time we licked up the last delicious drips (coffee flavor - I learned the hard way to avoid the exotic fruits) the power was back on and it was time to dress and depart for our farewell dinner. I was privileged to travel with a great group - so many experiences, insights, and stories. The trip has been the richer for sharing it with all of them.
During the next two weeks I'll offer a final few posts. Watch for photos (these ones with captions), some notes on food, plans for future projects, and some closing thoughts after I've had time to reflect on and integrate more of our experiences. Thanks again for being part of my journey.
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