Reflections by Mama Dang

Viet Nam, Revisited, Spring Break 2009
by Mimi Dang

Flying in to Ho Chi Minh City, formerly know as Saigon, our plane seemed to linger momentarily above the rice paddies that sprinkled the land approaching the airport, beckoning us to an agrarian way of life that existed long before the news media seared Viet Nam as a war torn nation into the minds of every American who watched the 6:00 PM news in the sixties. I was one such American who carried with me images of those times, but for many of the students who joined me in this journey some forty years later, there is no memory of a Viet Nam War. A short time later, as our bus exited the airport and plowed along streets crazed with mopeds and motorcycles, even in the late hours of the evening, dodging road construction sights and passing buildings so newly erected, the smell of freshly mixed cement still lingered in the air, the nostalgic sense of a bygone era gave way to a more compelling reality. A new chapter in the history of Viet Nam is emerging; a city, and a nation, in transition is relinquishing old customs and traditions to accommodate a rapidly booming economy, a city that has grown in population from a half million to seven million over night and an infrastructure that struggles to keep pace. Our bus weaves trough traffic; I wish longingly for our immanent arrival at the Palace Hotel, located in the heart of the city, following almost twenty-four hours of travel to arrive at this destination. Sleep would soon follow, but not before we consumed a midnight meal of such exotic delicacies as pigeon and frog, served on a platter, head to toe!

The next morning, we walked along tree-lined avenues, past large mustard-colored buildings housing the parliament, post office, opera house… remnants of the French colonial days. We were in route to find remnants of the War in a museum so aptly given the name the War Remnants Museum. The museum offered a harsh reminder that all sides have their story to share of “man’s inhumanity to man.” Many pictures were too gruesome for some students to linger long, but our spirits were lifted as we stumbled upon an exhibit toward the museum’s exit of drawings by young Vietnamese children, depicting symbols of world peace and unity and hope for mankind. This exhibit represents the spirit of a new generation of industrious people anxious to move forward into a more prosperous twenty-first century. Not until we traveled south to the Mekong Delta for a day of touring islands and candy-making cottage industries did we leave the ever-expanding city limits and finally see the rice paddies, which had beckoned us from our airplane windows. Once on our little boat adrift on the Mekong, sixth largest river in the world, a river that meanders through the whole of South-East Asia dividing the nations of Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, and Viet Nam, a river that widens here in the delta as it makes its way to the South China Sea, we felt some relief from the intense tropical heat intensified by the pavement and traffic of Saigon. Our guide was chipper and introduced us to the makings of coconut candy and offered us tea with fresh honey and fruit, and local musicians regaled us with song. We had stuff animals and donations of clothes and hygienic supplies to share with our local hosts. We continued on our way on little boats on inland waterways and on pony and carts. Our guide assured us, we had touched the hearts of these local people with our small offerings of kindness. By saying this, she in turn had touched our hearts.

We were a group of twenty-five students and three faculty (twenty-three from Punahou and two alum from Sacred Hearts Academy) who chose to do something really different over spring break…to open our eyes wide, to experience a different culture, a culture that is in the throws of change; to witness this change and to learn about its history; and to reach out to its people. Each of us brought an extra bag of donated materials and we shared these items with people we met along the way. These donations came from parents, faculty and students of Punahou and Sacred Hearts Academy. We shared with girls at a Catholic Girls orphanage in Saigon and a coed Buddhist orphanage in Phanthiet, northeast of Saigon; we shared with students at the Marie Curie High School, once a prestigious private school and now one of the best public schools in Saigon. We had plenty of time to shop and to visit the Museum of Fine Arts in Saigon and to ride ostriches at The Mango Farm north of Saigon, where we also sampled the meat prepared as salad and egg rolls. Always, we pushed our envelopes of comfort, ever trying new things. But we also took time to rest and relax and to get to know each other, because, after all, we were on “spring break!” We stayed two nights at the Allezboo Beach Resort and Spa in Muine, considered one of the most unspoiled, beautiful beaches in South East Asia. And so we spoiled and were spoiled, gave and were given to, and returned to our lives in Hawaii forever changed and with so much to ponder. I return to Viet Nam each year with my husband, a former native of Viet Nam who was a refugee from the Viet Nam War and is now a math teacher at Punahou, and we take with us yet a new group of students, some returning for a second and even a third time. Each year I wonder will our students love this country and its people and fascinating ways as much as I do. And the answer is always, yes! For these students, the world has grown a little smaller and a little warmer. Global warming, can, after all, be a good thing… I would like to take this opportunity to thank our many parents who have showered us with notes of gratitude. Such kind words have touched our hearts. Your sons and daughters have touched our hearts. They have made us so proud to be their “fearless” leaders!

Mimi,
Thank you for your reflection. I am so proud of you. The thoughts of not having you with me is unbearable. I am going to miss your smiles, your energy, and your compassion. What will I do without you?
Husb.
Dec. 13th, 2010

Reflection by Roxanne

Physically, Vietnam lingers: the toenail polish, chipping coral, still intact; the fading scar of a bug bite on the inside of my thigh. This body, carried across the sea and back in the humming belly of a plane which I remember smelled like high-altitude air conditioning, and handsoap and dry eyes, and staticky hair. I remember the stewardesses, with their round moon pale faces.

I remember lots of other things too.

The humidity, a heavy heartattack. A drowsy warmth ceaselessly bearing down, to sleep, to sweat. You can take big fish gasps, shallow inhales, and still feel dizzy with heat, and gasoline fumes, and cigarette smoke. The roads shimmer with a million glistening silverfish mopeds, crumbling asphalt. The rush of movement, the constant agitated speed, it makes you feel like you're going somewhere; it's very much a part of the language, in the way their mouths move, and the words slide up and down the length of their tongue and lips. A stream of endless movement. So many people, so many mouths with their singsong noises moving past the teeth.

I remember the taste of sweet lime soda - I sucked it down hungrily, greedy and desperate. I remember dozing past miles of perfectly aligned trees, the skeletal bumps of an oxen's back and their black doe-like eyes, watching me falter in-and-out-of a halfsleep dreams. I dreamed of solemn too-young orphan boys who did not smile at me, and of his small eager hands, and the waxiness of crayons. I remember the telephone wires of the city, tangled blackbird's nests sagging under its weight, cutting the sky into millions of pale slivers. I remember the South China Sea, the fishboat city of moving lights, the texture of hotel beds, places where the air is warm and moist and the ocean is like bathwater, and laughing faces peer through a haze of smoky incense.

I remember so many things: of curling against a window and shyly watching a man on a moped - I can still see the blue lights flickering away on his dashboard, dials spinning, the reflection in his square, black glasses, the thin gleam of sweat across his Asian cheekbones - and of knowing even then I would miss terribly.

(I'm going to go eat some coconut candy now, and wallow around in nostalgia.)

Reflections by Courtney T.

This is my second time going to Vietnam. I thought that it would be the same as the last time that I went, but I was wrong. It was very interesting this time because there was the sampling of exotic-bizarre foods and going to a resort where you can ride ostriches.
Sampling the usual dishes that Vietnam had was a bit nerve-racking. I mean when Julia and I tried frog for the first time--I thought they would give you only the frog legs because of the French's influence on Vietnam. But no, it was the whole frog including the head (nasty). We ate the parts besides the head and gave the head to another student. Surprisingly, frog tasted like chicken. Some other foods that we tried were the crocodile and ostrich dishes. I loved them(well the crocodile dish, that is)!!! It was ONO--I think Hawaii should have this kind of food like a ostrich loco moco or teriyaki crocodile o__O
When it came to riding ostriches the thought was ecstatic. I never even rode an ostrich before let alone bareback. Some of the students that went first looked like professionals. I, on the other hand, got discouraged and "chickened out" while waiting in line to ride the ostriches. I forgot that these birds are killing machines with their powerful legs and they can kick super hard. Also, some students got bucked off and I got worried.
The overall outcome of my first trip was I felt I accomplished a lot--it was kind of like an eye opener. I loved it so much that I wanted to go a second time, and I was glad to take a friend of mine and let her have the same experience that I had. I'm thinking of coming back hopefully with a couple of my friends again....

Link to Videos of trip

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Reflections by Matt

Parents and kids if you read this, I say, you should definitely at least think of going on this spectacular trip, and to take pictures of everything. This was an awesome spring break; I’m sad it only was for spring break, though, and could not have been longer. Although I have been to more countries than most of the people in the world, thanks to my parents who were sad they never got to travel, I found this was probably the most interesting trip I have been on, interesting because my best trips were visiting most of my dad’s side of the family who live in California, and/or my trips cruising on the big island at the Four Seasons resort. This trip was also the most interesting to me because it was very unique/different than every other, with experiences that most people don’t experience. One such experience that only a few of us tried was grass skiing at the Mango Park, with the burning sun directly above us, definitely not below freezing temperatures. I was horrible at this since now I snowboard, and the last time I skied was probably 4 or 5 years ago. It was not like skiing on snow because I’m pretty sure on snow you can go much, much faster, because of the slant, and already skied or snowboarded on snow is slippery, which also contributes to the reason why getting up is much harder. Grass skiing is better than skiing on snow, but because of the temperature real skiing is the winner. If I could do this again I probably would, but next time I would wear shorts instead of jeans. So, I would definitely go on this trip again if I could.

Slideshow