The Next Chapter

“…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

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?

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.

11,000 Words

Our last day in Vietnam and finally I'm able to post some images from the past two weeks. We depart Hanoi tomorrow morning. Time to pack my bags -- more stories and photos to come once I'm home.

For now, I'll close with the lyrics to a popular Vietnamese children's song:

We come here to meet each other.
Our lives are happy but busy.
You and I live in harmony
Knowing we will see each other again.

Hue à la Duc

Hue is an elegant and vibrant city that has embraced tourism. It's a bit of a jolt after Dong Ha, Land of No Tourists Whatsoever, where we pretty much felt like rock stars (EVERY kid said hello, every group of teenagers stared and giggled, every adult smiled and waved). But while I was concerned that we might not get to scratch below the tourist trade's surface here, I could not have been more mistaken -- thanks to Mr. Duc.

Duc runs a one-man taxi service with a small motorbike - an upgrade from the cyclo bicycle-taxi he used to pedal around the city. Chuck met him several years ago during a visit to Hue and they've been friends ever since. Being friends of Mr. Chuck landed four of us a dinner invitation to Duc's home where we met his lovely family and ate a fantastic home-cooked Vietnamese feast of spring rolls, fish, squid, noodles and home-grown bananas. The meal was made more atmospheric by the muggy-hot weather, the hum of insects and evening bird calls, and by a power outage that left everyone in Duc's village using candlelight. We weren't just a world away - it felt like we'd stepped back in time.

This morning Duc recruited his friends and arranged a countryside motorbike tour for Chuck, Cindy and me. The back of a bike at 30 miles per hour, buzzing down skinny streets and country lanes along the Perfume River, is a perfect way to experience the area. We also got a culture-and-history fix, stopping at tombs of two Nguyen Dynasty emperors set in serene park-like grounds. As we strolled through the temples and ruins, butterflies danced in the trees around us and the air was sweet and heavy with plumeria. It felt alternately like Disneyland and holy ground.

Next we went from the sacred to the mundane to the exquisite: we left the tombs, zipped back to the hotel, stopped for a lunch where I ate my body weight in fried noodles, then lumbered off in a cyclo to visit Hue's best known landmark, the Citadel. Though seriously damaged during the Tet Offensive in 1968, 80 out of 300 structures survived and a number have been restored to their 19th century appearance with elaborate painting, carvings, mosaic designs and tiled roofs.

Tomorrow we depart Hue for Hanoi. We'll see Duc again before we go, and perhaps take another quick spin on the motorbike. (I LIKE motorbikes! Who knew?) I've put together a small photo album for him with pictures from last night's visit. (Yes - I can print them, but I still can't post them. Sorry!) How wonderful it's been to get beyond the surface and to have the privilege of seeing Hue from the inside out. Vive le Duc!

Gifts

When we visited the landmine awareness training center a few days ago we had the chance to talk with some young UXO victims. They told us a little bit about their experiences - some had been injured when friends played with UXO, others when items accidentally detonated in the hands of scrap-metal-dealing neighbors or family members.

The kids are great friends of PeaceTrees: they volunteer their time to help with land mine risk awareness training, talking with other children about the dangers and consequences of UXO.

With PeaceTrees' help these kids have received medical care and have been able to continue their education. Still, there are outstanding needs.

One young man who'd lost his hand, age fourteen or so, mentioned that he very much wanted a bicycle to get to school; his family was too poor to buy one (the cost is about $50 US). Enter Santa Claus, disguised as fellow-traveler Bruce, a Navy Corpsman here during the war. He talked to the PeaceTrees staff about the bicycle and said to "make it so." They did, and our entire contingent had the fun of being Bruce's elves and delivering the bike to the boy's countryside home two days later. His family has a small farm; they grow cassava, jackfruit and pepper (the spice, not the vegetable). Their little house is nestled in a lush and beautiful garden plot. Pushing the bike up the path to their home we were met with a warm welcome from the boy's mother, and then the young man appeared. He was, I think, a bit overwhelmed, but the moment he jumped on his shiny new bike he was right at ease. It will make his daily two-mile trip to school much quicker, and will also help him fit in more comfortably with the other kids - a problem for disabled children here, as elsewhere.

More kids' wishes will be granted thanks to a gift from my Southminster Presbyterian church family. They sent me on the trip with undesignated funds to use where appropriate.

Another of the UXO victims, Lai, has a mountain of challenges. He lost an arm, both legs and his eyesight to an explosion, and he has been a great advocate and supporter of UXO risk awareness training, especially with local children. Lai is a good student in his late teens, but his career options are limited. Improving his English language skills will open opportunities that can help him become independent. He asked for ideas and assistance for his studies; two of us have teamed up to hire a private English tutor for him for the next year.

The remainder of the "annointed money" is helping with school supplies at the last kindergarten we visited and with food at Compassion House, which will allow them to extend care to another few disabled kids. Thank you, Southminster - your gifts are blessing others.

And now - we're in Hue City. It was hard to say good-bye to Dong Ha. The monuments in Hue may be impressive, but more memorable for me are the monumental hearts, warmth and spirit we encountered over the past week. We went with the intent of giving, but I think we received the greater gift.

Dong Ha Howdy!

We spent Friday visiting some of PeaceTrees' other local projects, several of which were in the rural farmlands and all of which are geared toward helping individuals or areas impacted by landmines and UXO.

We got our daily adorable-kid fix at another PeaceTrees kindergarten, this one in the countryside 25 minutes' drive from Dong Ha. As with the other schools we'd brought boxes of presents to share. Balloons and soap bubbles were the biggest hits with the kids; Madame Sam, president of the Quang Tri Women's Union, was partial to the balsa wood airplane. She, by the way, is fabulous. Her organization's goal is to bring social and economic development to women and families in the province. She represents a membership of 90,000 women; they partner with PeaceTrees to identify prospective projects. She's the one who recommended A Xing for the Warner Kindergarten.

After the kid fix we went further into the Dong Ha Boon Docks to meet some beneficiaries of PeaceTrees' microcredit lending program. It felt like we were walking into a Heifer Project catalog. PeaceTrees makes loans of about $170 -- more than many peoples' annual income -- to help the extreme poor to become economially self-sufficient. The recipients pay back the loan with minimal interest; the monies go back into the lending fund. The program has been extremely successful, and it's awe-inspiring to see what such a small amount of seed money can do.

The first family we visited was raising water buffalo. The buffalo are very valuable as "tractors" in the watery rice paddies. The family breeds them and sells the calves; they earn additional income through farming their own crops and through a rent-a-buffalo business.

Pigs are sold for meat. The pig owner is a 76-year-old former surgeon who lost fingers to a UXO explosion while serving as a soldier. He explained that their family's two sows each have two litters of about a dozen piglets per year. The piglets sell for roughly a dollar per kilo, enough for a reasonable income. By contrast one of the local women let us lift the two baskets of sweet potato leaves she was carrying to market two kilometers' walk away - the baskets hanging from a stick over her shoulder weighed 70 pounds and will sell for 45 cents. Not an easy living. She laughed as even the men in our group winced and huffed a little trying to lift and carry the load.

While we saw the loan recipients, neighbors poured out of their houses to see us. They don't get many -- any -- tourists. We had a great time visiting. It's amazing what one can do with charades and a digital camera.

Friday afternoon we visited two more PeaceTrees projects: the blind school (serving 37 kids who have lost their sight in UXO explosions or other events) and Compassion House, which is a center for homeless and profoundly disabled children. Agent Orange poisoning is still a reality here, and continues to cause birth defects.

We wrapped up the day with dinner and karaoke. We practiced a group number in the bus that seemed very fitting number after our countryside adventure: the John Denver hit "Take Me Home, Quang Tri Roads."