Journal Entries Part 3: SAPA, Revised Goals

Journal Entries Part 2: Da Nang, Hue, random sketches

Straight from my journal. Is this gutsy or just plain stupid? I'll figure out that later...

Journal Entries (Part 1: Quy Nhon, Kon Tum, Da Nang)

These entries are straight from my journal. I was a bit hesitant to post them up since they are a bit personal, not to mention a grammatical war zone. But someone, ahem ahem, complained about the lack of reflections among the UCHANU students, especially after the central trip. So I hope if y'all keep a written journal, whip it out and scan it at local print shops around our school. Not everybody like blogging. I think blogging is a bit impersonal and inorganic, not to mention inconvenient. What if the ah-ha moment is not while I'm writing this line, but one the train or after a hike? Ok ok, I'll stop blabbing if the damn internet connection moves with the speed of development. Here it is.

Tâm Sự with Bắc Nam, the fruit vendor in Hapro alley

I often purchase my fruits from Bác Nam and he's very chatty so I've decided to interview him. Bác Nam is in his fifties and he lives with his wife, son, and daughter in a compact housing unit nearby on Hapro alley allocated to him by the government. He mentioned casually that his old house was demolished in order to widen the road. I was surprised because there was no bitterness or blame in his tone.

I asked: “How do you feel about being relocated? Where you compensated fairly? How do you find the new place? Did the governement or any other group help you?” (Not all at once of course).

Bác Nam:“Chính phủ làm như vậy thì cũng đúng. Đường hồi trước rất chật. Còn tắt đường hơn hôm nay nữa!” I can't even imagine the roads being more chaotic then the bumper-to-bumper congestion of motorbikes and cars within my sight. JBác Nam seems satisfied with his relocation and compensation and he even mentioned the place he resides right now is organized by the government. Overall, he feels included in the spatial redevelopment.

“Bác ơi, bác có kiếm dủ tiền để sống không?” (Do you make enough to live?)

Bác Nam: Cũng làm cỡ 1,500,000 Đồng một tháng. Cộng trung với lương của vợ thì cũng giư một chút. Con trai bắc thì khỏi nói. Nó còn trẻm, làm đâu thì tiêu đó. Thanh niên mà cháu.

He seems more interested in my life in the US. He asked how's life and work there? I told him there's no such thing as ngủtrưa-ing. Most jobs are 9-to-5 with only a one hour lunch break and small 15 minutes break in between. He said he rather stay here because he is happy with his life. He just wishes to save enough money for his son and daughter. “I'm waiting for my son to get marry, so I can have a grandchild to play with.”

Overall, he doesn't feel excluded from society and he seems happy with his current condition. I think Vietnamese people don't look at development in individualistic terms of “what can I get out of it” or in “win/lose” situation in which one side benefits from the loss of another. Their hollistic viewpoint serves as a reminder that they live in network in which a temporary 'loss' (like bắc Nam's housing situation) is a permanent gain to the whole society. At the same time, the cynical side of me can't help but wonder if this collectivistic perspective also serve as a tool of the financially included in this society to maintain the social harmony, another euphemism for exclusion. Overall, bắc Nam is so happyhappyhappy and optimistic about the future, I don't think he feels excluded at all. I can't even translate 'exclusion' in Vietnamese.

My Two Months Anniversary

You know how couples have those cute-but-not-really one week or two months anniversary? Well, guess what this one will be about? Half of my days in Vietnam is gone so I'm a bit reflective about my goals and experiences now. Idk, i feel like my life did a 360 after i'm here. i thought my purpose was to teach english, but then i've been spending most of my time doing this LGBT documentary project and just eating. Just eating and going out all the time! I dont know what I try to find here anymore. before, it was just inspirations to start drawing and writing again, but i barely touch my sketchbook. okay, maybe once or twice. i can only write, draw, strum my guitar, or sing when i'm down. there's always things to do, people to meet, food to eat so it is impossible to have time to reflect. while typing this, i am cutting back on sleep. quiet space + depression + creativity = good shizzzz. everything is moving so fast that i feel like 4 months is too short to really enjoy and understand this country. someday, i just wish i have all the time in the world and hop on a motorbike, tour the countrysides, talk to people, and write a story about all my (mis)adventures. but i am here, in hanoi, in this room, in this constant state of "huh"ness as events pass by me like a milkyway shower of shoot stars. my relationship with my roommates is not going well. me and my short temper... someday i just dont want to deal with it. i can't really contact my ex because my phone was stolen in the night market. my reaction is close to aloofness. i feel kind of glad that my parents or my relatives cant call, but i want to visit my grandparent's village. somedays i feel like im on top of the world, then just on a wimp, or because of a sad song, or a word that reminds me of that certain person, I feel entrapped in the collapsing labyrinth of my own confusion and if i dont seek the exit soon, it will consume me. and idk if im making any sense anymore. half of the time, my sporatic stream of consciousness sounds like the very stuff i write--no endings, no logical direction, just solitary strands of . somedays it scared the shit out of me because it begins to sound like my own future. someday, the lethargic cement and eardrum-beating noises of vietnam feels like the reoccuring post-apocalyptic wasteland inside my head. someday, after all the city-exploring is done, i just want to sit inside my own little wasteland world, having a conversation with Ms. Kieu on my left and Ms. Hồ Xuân Hương on my right. and all we will talk about is feminism. crazy shit. someday, i try to find vietnam in between my history book, in the back-alleys coffee shops, in the converstations of the locals. i haven't found it yet. maybe im looking too hard. i walked close to it with an elderly man on his daily walk in a rice-farming village. his footsteps drop invisible bread crumbs but i dont have enough time to collect and follow. i almost feel it as i slashed though the rice stalks, expecting each golden rice grain to reconnect me to my ancestoral roots. but it's always this feeling of almost, but not really.

Rice Harvesting Time!

Yesterday (October 10th)we took a 1hr bus ride from Hanoi to a small village. The majority of the villagers own small plots of land to cultivate (mainly rice). Each family owns at least one suất (about 360 acres) of farmland, some own 2-3, depending on their household size. One family allow us to help them harvest two suất of rice land. We suck. Basically three of us equals one of the lady. She was slashing her sickle with a sense of urgency and efficiency--like one of sonic the hedgehog's maddening moves. Two hours of pure sweat and hard work never felt so good. While I was holding the sickle, I cannot help but think, this what my own grandparents did just fifty or sixty years ago. I'll never look at another bowl of rice the same. When my parents said don't waste even a single grain of rice, I didn't really understand. Now it makes so much sense and I have such an appreciation for it. I remember in high school, I got so sick of rice and I told my parand not the Rients "why can't we eat something else besides rice?" I was only defining rice in terms of taste. Rice is more than carbohydrates, it creates the identity of the Vietnamese culture. Hmnnn, maybe I should write a song on "Oh white complex sugar, I love you so."

After harvesting and spending lunch with the owner, I wander around the village and here comes this elderly man with his black umbrella and three grandchildren tagging behind him. But what I notice first is his glowing smile. He seems like the happiest man alive. I tag along with him on his daily walk (apparently, that's all there is to do in the village)and we chat about the village life. His son is in the city Hanoi, working, while the rest of the family farms. Apparently, all the villagers hire people to harvest the rice (the wage is about 30,000 or 40,000 Đồng, which is about $1.5 - 2 dollars per the morning of harvesting). The rice field provides enough to each family for a year so they actually eat what the harvest. Almost all the villagers diversify their industry besides farming, just to earn more money to live. I walked around and most men fix motorbikes and the womyn does some tailoring work. There's a pond for the locals to fish, if they pay the fishing price. The elderly man (Mr. Trân as in Mr. Leg)said one of his son is a barber. It is interesting to notice, most of the rice harvesters are womyns. Ông Trân jokingly said, "If you are a man, you gotta find yourself a girlfriend or a wife quick. Who else will do you see doing the farm work around here?" First thing in my mind: That's so sexist. Damn this patriarchal world. Most of the economic opportunities are reserved for men, since they are the ones who can go into the big city like Hanoi and earn some income for their family back home. I understand that but I'm beginning to feel tired of the "that's just the Vietnamese culture" excuse. I can't really blame the elder for working in this system, that's just how it was long time ago. Argggh, fuck patriarchy.

I walked with this elderly man until he reaches his son's barbershop/house. After his chat, I begin to get a better picture of this village in the last 10 years. He said, when he was growing up, only rich foreigners are allow to have two-story cement houses while the locals live in straw huts. And now if you did a 360 view of the village, all within site are newly constructed cement houses--all are built within the last 5-10 years. Where do they get this money from? Selling bananas, pigs, or extra vegetable aren't enough. He talked about being in three wars in his lifetime. First the Japanese when he was a kid, then the French, then the Americans. I wanted to ask him about the land reforms...but he kind of felt confused. He asked me which one. I think he didn't want to talk about it. I still want to know how can he be so content and at peace with just simple daily walks around the village? Holy crap, that's all there is to do around there. As he continued his walk, I can see the trail of unanswered questions behind his footsteps, questions that I won't have the chance ask.

A clip of the EAP crew harvesting some rice...


Ông Trân and his grandchildren

Vietnam Central Trip - Video Journal

Here are some videos of our trip to central Vietnam.

Enjoying some rambutans (chôm chôm) in Qui Nhơn, Central Vietnam.



Taking the ferry to reach the village across the river from Hội An.


Some videos on the biking trail in a village near Hội An.




Crossing the bridge with my bike.


Arrival at the village.


Our very own mperial runway show at the Huế museum...






Imperial dinner in Huế.