August 6, 2007
Back in HoChiMinh yesterday afternoon, we decided to do a little shopping while we were downtown since the hydrofoil ends at the city center and it would take a lot of time to battle the traffic back to Phillipe's to drop the luggage and then back into town again to shop. Aly had spied a little "outlet mall" before we left - 20 little boutiques with designer-name goods spilling into the central corridor in a "mall" all of 40 feet wide - stores about 15 feet deep on each side with a 10-foot walkway in the middle filled with 6 foot wide carts leaving 2 2-foot wide walking aisles. We intended to take our luggage into the mall (4 pieces + daypack) but after surveying the scene, I found there was not a place to sit at all, let alone with a pile of luggage. So I stayed outside on the front steps for 30 - 40 minutes while Aly hit every store I'm sure. Of course, I was quickly drawn away from my book (wonderful biography by Vietnamese-American writer, Andrew Pham, Catfish and Mandela), by the entertainment of the street vendors cooking their wares on little wood fire pits and tiny iron cookware right on the sidewalk. And of course just the people-watching!
Then it was dinner, cards for me and Aly and a late movie from Phillipe's mostly foreign film collection of DVD's, which he projects onto a 10 x 15 foot wall to make a very nice little "cinema!" We saw a French love story, based on an autobiographical novel, set in Vietnam in 1929. Very good history and culture lesson.
Today was our final day at the Orphanage with Mr. Chien. When we arrived, he embraced us warmly and glowingly offered us a DVD that had already been made from the first two days we spent with him. Tonight we will get to watch it - what a wonderful way to preserve the memories! In addition to playing with the smaller children again (Aly took a 9-month old in tow for most of the morning), we observed all of the elementary grades that included both normal and blind children. The teachers are paid by the government - not sure who selects them - and then there are two "specialists" who oversee the the teaching program and particularly the services to the blind. We never did observe the braille texts or machines that were evident in the 2000 video that Mr. Chien had sent. Apparently some of the footage was filmed at another site.
We then got to tour the Pagoda worship spaces, which we had not seen on the previous visits. We had thought they might be "off-limits" in some way, but in retrospect I think Mr. Chien thought we were there to see the children and the programs not the Pagoda so just hadn't toured us there. In any event, when we asked today, he was more than happy to take us up each of the 6 levels explaining the various symbolism and different Buddhas and other religious figures. All of this intricate design is within the lava-like mountain rocks that form the outer walls of the Pagoda (that you see from the outside) and of course all is open-air - there is no AC in the Pagoda and Children's Center. The towering Pagoda also sits over a 30-foot deep (and dark) cavern with other poured concrete flowers and vegetation that serve as the foundation. As we got up to the 4th level, Mr. Chien motioned to us to sit down to point out that with the 4 foot walls around us, you could not see any buildings of the city, just the Buddhas in all directions (maybe 12 or 15) and the huge trees surrounding the Pagoda. As we got to the 6th level where we sat under a blue pastel curved ceiling, Mr. Chien laughed that we were now in paradise!
We were then invited to another sumptuous vegan lunch - soup with a green zuccini squash type vegetable and onions, steamed green beans and bean sprouts, sauteed tofu and vegies with "much rice" and papayas, two kinds of applies and a great bright yellow watermelon (tasted just like red) for dessert!
Before saying our goodbyes, Mr. Chien gave us a little lesson in reincarnation and the life of spirits in the death and rebirth cycle - very interesting. A final joke - Aly was rubbing his head, which had become her show of affection for him, where the soft gray stubble had grown out since we had seen him 4 days earlier. Each time she did so, he laughed playfully, but this time he said: "Of course I will not forget you, no one in Vietnam may touch may head, only you!" Aly looked aghast for a split second realizing that she had violated both cultural and religious decorum, but Mr. Chien laughed and gave her a hug - always accepting of the intention behind the act.
We fly out tonight at 11:30PM - although the flights are slightly shorter, trade winds apparently going West to East, we have 4 hour layovers in both Tokyo and Dallas - ugh - so it's about 28 hours to get home - our own beds will feel GREAT tomorrow night!
Monday, August 6, 2007
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Vung Tao Beach Adventures
5AUG07 Return to Civilization from Vung Tau
All good things must come to an end, so without the sun for 3 days at the beach at Vung Tao, we have decided to come back to HoChiMinh City a day early to see Philippe, Xuan, Mr. Chien and hopefully to learn more about the training program the Orphanage has for the blind, which is the one part of my initial purpose that has not been fulfilled. The sun actually breaks through for 15 minutes about 8am after my workout – so I head to the pool for a cold swim and to “catch some rays!” However, the sun is long gone by the time Aly awakes, and today we’re on a bit of a timetable in order to leave and catch the hydrofoil for our 12:30 tickets. We return to Highland Coffee for our usual breakfast and Internet morning routine. There must be 7 young women who faun over us – they run to open the door when we come and leave (breakfast as well as after dinner when we stop there again) and give us a big smile. They look 14 – 18 to me but could be 25 – 30 says Aly. I really love the friendliness of the people generally but particularly the staff in every establishment. It is amazing how many there are, like the Ritz, they generally outnumber the customers!
In addition to Highland Coffee, we also found a fabulous Vietnamese restaurant on the fourth floor roof “garden” with a panoramic view of the beach. The elegance of the setting (white linen chairs, tables, table clothes – everything except the chairs in the outdoor section where we ate), the staff (women in pale blue silk traditional suits) and the cuisine would be a match or probably exceed anything Nashville has to offer, at one-quarter the price!
Glad to visit this place – quite a contrast from Destin or Gulf Shores!
4AUG07 – Vung Tao Beach Resort
Like everything else we’ve experienced, Vung Tao, the beach “resort” to which we have gone, is “uniquely Vietnamese,” which is to say everything is just a bit different than what you would expect in the West, which leads to a continuing stream of surprises, pleasant and not so pleasant.
Aly asked me how the thatched roof on our bungalow kept out the rain, and I answered that there must be some sort of “membrane” between the “thatch” you can see from the outside of the hut and the thatch you can see from inside. Well, perhaps there is, but more likely there isn’t. We should have anticipated that there was a reason for the plastic tarp on the bed! It turned out that the main functionality of the tarp was not to keep the rain out. Instead we observed 1 or 2 dime-sized spots at the head of the bed, suspiciously looking like bird droppings. So we were careful to keep the tarp on the head of the bed whenever we weren’t asleep! Aly wasn’t so lucky with her favorite Tri-Sig sorority t-shirt, which now has an auspicious yellow stain – another unexpected Vietnam souvenir!
While the Japanese boys/teens wear Western bathing suits, 99.9% of the females wear everyday clothes into the ocean and pool, i.e., the older women wear their full-length “pajama pantsuits” and the teens where their shorts and t-shirts, underwear included. I’m sure it’s modesty rather than not being able to afford a Western bathing suit. It just occurred to me that I have no idea how they get their clothes dry – the humidity is 95% all the time, nothing dries even though there is a constant 10 – 20 mph breeze – and it’s not like there is a guest laundry with lots of washers and dryers in the hotel.
The beach starts filling up as soon as the sun rises, well for all I know people are there before the sun rises since I never actually go out to look until the sun rises around 5:45AM and at that point there are dozens of people up and down the beach frolicking in the waves as you would expect at mid-day. While the hotels are far from full, it’s clear that the clouds and rain are no deterrent to going to the beach since getting a tan is the furthest thing from the social goal of the local women. Light skin is beautiful! We haven’t seen a single person laying out – of course we haven’t seen the sun either!
In addition to the people staying at the hotel, every day there are between 10 and 20 buses of all sizes from 15 or 20 person up to full size coaches that show up in the hotel parking lot. The folks unpack their coolers, cases of beer, food and beach gear and head to the umbrellas on the beach. It’s not clear how the hotel makes money, maybe there is a parking charge plus they own the umbrella concession! At the end of the day, they all board up again in their wet clothes and head home from a fun-filled day at the beach.
I talked Aly into riding a tandem bike yesterday – actually she was very willing to give it a go, as she has been on every activity and adventure the whole trip. Our goal was to ride up the mountain to see the “Christo” – which looks to be about 40 feet tall and the mountain also pretty imposing – I’d guess 1,000 feet. Suffice it to say that the tandem bike experience was a great illustration of Murphy’s Law applied to Vietnam:
The cab driver drove past a nice looking bike rental spot on the “strip” [i.e., the store fronts facing the beach a mile or so down the beach from us] and let us out to get a bike from a nice OLD woman. Must have been his mother or a relative!
After looking at the rusty clunker bike, I motioned that we needed to raise the seat – no dice! After paying her and riding off, the seat was so low our knees were hitting the handlebars and with a single speed (despite 21 gears – nothing shifted), I decided to return it, without refund, and look for a better bike.
About 10 yards down the street, we then found a better looking bike from a guy who looked like he might actually know something about bikes. Again, I illustrated that I wouldn’t take the bike unless he could raise the seat. That required a metric socket wrench, which he didn’t have, so I had to ride the bike down the street to a friend’s place who had a wrench. In about 5 minutes, we were fixed up and ready to go – this 21 speed was not even rusty so I thought we were in business!
Starting off amid even a few motorbikes and taxis is a little intimidating – we could have used a bobsled start to get up some speed!
When we finally got going, Aly started to feel a little less wobbly – however once I determined that the gears didn’t work, so going up the mountain was out, plus I didn’t not want to scare Aly to death coming down the mountain, even assuming we could make it up!
Turning away from the beach we road on the little commercial/residential streets with almost no cars and not too many motor bikes. Within about 5 minutes I noticed a black cloud directly in front of us, from which you could see the rain pouring. I hoped out loud it was going the other direction – no such luck! Within another 2 minutes, there was a gale of 25 – 30 mph winds and pelting rain – the worst storm we have experienced the entire time in Vietnam, and we are out on a bike in the middle of the city somewhere! Looking for shelter, and already soaked to the skin within about a minute, we found and awning big enough to get ourselves and the bike under – had to laugh at our luck. After about 10 minutes of whipping rain, which was cascading off the awning right in front of us, the storm slowed to a relative trickle, so we decided to venture out. Within a few yards, as the rain started to pick up again, the chain fell off! I fumbled in the rain to get it back on while Aly held up the back of the bike (so I could turn the pedal backwards) – one thing for sure, this rental place did not spare on the chain grease – my fingers were black. We decided to head back – of course I thought it would be faster to continue the direction we were going having gone about 60% of the way around a big rectangle (or so I thought!) However, after another 5 minutes, a second gale kicked up and we were forced to look for shelter again. This time we found a bigger open air “café” – and a longer rainstorm. Of course the restaurant folks tried to sell us some food, but that was out of the question. Finally it let up enough for us to start back, and then actually stopped raining!
Now we had two problems – first we were lost, well not really lost, we just couldn’t figure out which way was back to the beach, and once away from the strip no one speaks enough English to communicate with. It turned out Aly’s instincts on the direction were better than mine – after riding around and making a few turns, we found a large (60-foot tall) war memorial that we had walked to that same morning so we then knew how to get back.
That left the second problem – the chain. It was clearly too loose by a ½ inch or so – and was starting to come off every block or two. I wasn’t getting that much faster getting it back on, and Aly was at the point where she thought we should just walk the bike back – but that wasn’t an option for me so she relented and after 5 or 6 “chain stops” we finally made it back.
The guy who had rented us the bike (for which we had already paid and given him a 50% tip for fixing the seat for us), laughed and pointed at the sky as we rode up – quite a sense of humor!
In the cab back, we had to laugh at the timing of the storm, it hadn’t rained since early that morning – we had waited (and wasted) 2 hours of good conditions before going out in the storm, so all and all, it was a pretty funny outing and we escaped with just a little grease under the fingernails and wet clothes so not too bad!
If you like to sweat, this is the place to exercise – in 30 to 40 minutes on the exercise bike, my shoes are literally filled with sweat as if I had walked through 4 inch puddles or ridden a tandem bike in a mini-typhoon! After spending an hour or so running the hairdryer inside and outside the shoes to dry them the first time, I figured out I could wear “flip-flops” with socks to avoid the problem. However, the wet shoes issue remains whenever we get caught in the rain – which has been twice – and there is no way to get my exercise socks dry (and they have to be washed every other day) without the hairdryer routine! However, since I’m an exercise addict and the more adverse conditions the better, I like my exercise routine of getting to the “gym” by 6:30 or so, working out for as long as I can take it, almost made an hour today, and observing from the seat position on the bike that it’s unlikely that anyone has used it during my stay.
2AUG07 – Buddhist Theme Park Field Trip
Just when you think you’ve seen everything HoChiMinh City has to offer, another amazing surprise is delivered up: a Buddhist Theme Park. This mini-Disney World rises out of the surrounding urban squalor with its golden 50-ft long dragons, ornate gold and red Buddhas and an beautifully ornate “Electric Pagoda” shrine. Mr. Chien had told us we were going to a “waterfall” – so we dressed in our bathing suits under shorts and t-shirts, only to find out it was a “theme park” – with a few little waterfalls as part of the scenery. We were also under the impression that we were taking the 4 to 6 year olds – I was envisioning a wild time trying to keep up with them at a waterfall and lake. Instead, we had 8 boys age 7 to about 13. The two youngest ones, 7 and 9, were already novice monks dressed in gray robes. They warmed up to us immediately and were holding hands with me as well as Aly.
Similarly to a theme park in the U.S., they had a “parade” with dancers and “floats” – mostly Vietnamese fruits with beautifully dressed “beauty queens” waving to the crowds. They also had some cheesy little rides that the monk permitted them to ride on – a boat ride through a “mountain” with various “scenes of dragons, cavemen and mythical animals; and a horrible Halloweenish “House of Horrors” with cheaply done “torture” scenes at every turn.
There were a few notable differences from U.S. theme parks. First, there was a gorgeous Pagoda or perhaps a “shrine” or temple since a pagoda is a place of worship and the location in a theme park would seem to limit the opportunity for any services. The paintings including the rotunda ceilings, as well as the central Buddha and other worship figures were incredibly ornate. The incongruous thing was a series of pastel colored fluorescent circle lights surrounding the Buddha’s head, which lit up in a 20 or 30-second pattern, I guess signifying his enlightenment. The electronic display was so inconsistent with the rest of the worship space but apparently that was the “style” of all the pagodas built in the 1970’s.
Second was the alligator farm – hundreds of alligators from adolescents to adults (the babies were out of view somewhere) and opportunities to buy bait to “fish for gators” – which the boys insisted that Aly try! Very cool.
All good things must come to an end, so without the sun for 3 days at the beach at Vung Tao, we have decided to come back to HoChiMinh City a day early to see Philippe, Xuan, Mr. Chien and hopefully to learn more about the training program the Orphanage has for the blind, which is the one part of my initial purpose that has not been fulfilled. The sun actually breaks through for 15 minutes about 8am after my workout – so I head to the pool for a cold swim and to “catch some rays!” However, the sun is long gone by the time Aly awakes, and today we’re on a bit of a timetable in order to leave and catch the hydrofoil for our 12:30 tickets. We return to Highland Coffee for our usual breakfast and Internet morning routine. There must be 7 young women who faun over us – they run to open the door when we come and leave (breakfast as well as after dinner when we stop there again) and give us a big smile. They look 14 – 18 to me but could be 25 – 30 says Aly. I really love the friendliness of the people generally but particularly the staff in every establishment. It is amazing how many there are, like the Ritz, they generally outnumber the customers!
In addition to Highland Coffee, we also found a fabulous Vietnamese restaurant on the fourth floor roof “garden” with a panoramic view of the beach. The elegance of the setting (white linen chairs, tables, table clothes – everything except the chairs in the outdoor section where we ate), the staff (women in pale blue silk traditional suits) and the cuisine would be a match or probably exceed anything Nashville has to offer, at one-quarter the price!
Glad to visit this place – quite a contrast from Destin or Gulf Shores!
4AUG07 – Vung Tao Beach Resort
Like everything else we’ve experienced, Vung Tao, the beach “resort” to which we have gone, is “uniquely Vietnamese,” which is to say everything is just a bit different than what you would expect in the West, which leads to a continuing stream of surprises, pleasant and not so pleasant.
Aly asked me how the thatched roof on our bungalow kept out the rain, and I answered that there must be some sort of “membrane” between the “thatch” you can see from the outside of the hut and the thatch you can see from inside. Well, perhaps there is, but more likely there isn’t. We should have anticipated that there was a reason for the plastic tarp on the bed! It turned out that the main functionality of the tarp was not to keep the rain out. Instead we observed 1 or 2 dime-sized spots at the head of the bed, suspiciously looking like bird droppings. So we were careful to keep the tarp on the head of the bed whenever we weren’t asleep! Aly wasn’t so lucky with her favorite Tri-Sig sorority t-shirt, which now has an auspicious yellow stain – another unexpected Vietnam souvenir!
While the Japanese boys/teens wear Western bathing suits, 99.9% of the females wear everyday clothes into the ocean and pool, i.e., the older women wear their full-length “pajama pantsuits” and the teens where their shorts and t-shirts, underwear included. I’m sure it’s modesty rather than not being able to afford a Western bathing suit. It just occurred to me that I have no idea how they get their clothes dry – the humidity is 95% all the time, nothing dries even though there is a constant 10 – 20 mph breeze – and it’s not like there is a guest laundry with lots of washers and dryers in the hotel.
The beach starts filling up as soon as the sun rises, well for all I know people are there before the sun rises since I never actually go out to look until the sun rises around 5:45AM and at that point there are dozens of people up and down the beach frolicking in the waves as you would expect at mid-day. While the hotels are far from full, it’s clear that the clouds and rain are no deterrent to going to the beach since getting a tan is the furthest thing from the social goal of the local women. Light skin is beautiful! We haven’t seen a single person laying out – of course we haven’t seen the sun either!
In addition to the people staying at the hotel, every day there are between 10 and 20 buses of all sizes from 15 or 20 person up to full size coaches that show up in the hotel parking lot. The folks unpack their coolers, cases of beer, food and beach gear and head to the umbrellas on the beach. It’s not clear how the hotel makes money, maybe there is a parking charge plus they own the umbrella concession! At the end of the day, they all board up again in their wet clothes and head home from a fun-filled day at the beach.
I talked Aly into riding a tandem bike yesterday – actually she was very willing to give it a go, as she has been on every activity and adventure the whole trip. Our goal was to ride up the mountain to see the “Christo” – which looks to be about 40 feet tall and the mountain also pretty imposing – I’d guess 1,000 feet. Suffice it to say that the tandem bike experience was a great illustration of Murphy’s Law applied to Vietnam:
The cab driver drove past a nice looking bike rental spot on the “strip” [i.e., the store fronts facing the beach a mile or so down the beach from us] and let us out to get a bike from a nice OLD woman. Must have been his mother or a relative!
After looking at the rusty clunker bike, I motioned that we needed to raise the seat – no dice! After paying her and riding off, the seat was so low our knees were hitting the handlebars and with a single speed (despite 21 gears – nothing shifted), I decided to return it, without refund, and look for a better bike.
About 10 yards down the street, we then found a better looking bike from a guy who looked like he might actually know something about bikes. Again, I illustrated that I wouldn’t take the bike unless he could raise the seat. That required a metric socket wrench, which he didn’t have, so I had to ride the bike down the street to a friend’s place who had a wrench. In about 5 minutes, we were fixed up and ready to go – this 21 speed was not even rusty so I thought we were in business!
Starting off amid even a few motorbikes and taxis is a little intimidating – we could have used a bobsled start to get up some speed!
When we finally got going, Aly started to feel a little less wobbly – however once I determined that the gears didn’t work, so going up the mountain was out, plus I didn’t not want to scare Aly to death coming down the mountain, even assuming we could make it up!
Turning away from the beach we road on the little commercial/residential streets with almost no cars and not too many motor bikes. Within about 5 minutes I noticed a black cloud directly in front of us, from which you could see the rain pouring. I hoped out loud it was going the other direction – no such luck! Within another 2 minutes, there was a gale of 25 – 30 mph winds and pelting rain – the worst storm we have experienced the entire time in Vietnam, and we are out on a bike in the middle of the city somewhere! Looking for shelter, and already soaked to the skin within about a minute, we found and awning big enough to get ourselves and the bike under – had to laugh at our luck. After about 10 minutes of whipping rain, which was cascading off the awning right in front of us, the storm slowed to a relative trickle, so we decided to venture out. Within a few yards, as the rain started to pick up again, the chain fell off! I fumbled in the rain to get it back on while Aly held up the back of the bike (so I could turn the pedal backwards) – one thing for sure, this rental place did not spare on the chain grease – my fingers were black. We decided to head back – of course I thought it would be faster to continue the direction we were going having gone about 60% of the way around a big rectangle (or so I thought!) However, after another 5 minutes, a second gale kicked up and we were forced to look for shelter again. This time we found a bigger open air “café” – and a longer rainstorm. Of course the restaurant folks tried to sell us some food, but that was out of the question. Finally it let up enough for us to start back, and then actually stopped raining!
Now we had two problems – first we were lost, well not really lost, we just couldn’t figure out which way was back to the beach, and once away from the strip no one speaks enough English to communicate with. It turned out Aly’s instincts on the direction were better than mine – after riding around and making a few turns, we found a large (60-foot tall) war memorial that we had walked to that same morning so we then knew how to get back.
That left the second problem – the chain. It was clearly too loose by a ½ inch or so – and was starting to come off every block or two. I wasn’t getting that much faster getting it back on, and Aly was at the point where she thought we should just walk the bike back – but that wasn’t an option for me so she relented and after 5 or 6 “chain stops” we finally made it back.
The guy who had rented us the bike (for which we had already paid and given him a 50% tip for fixing the seat for us), laughed and pointed at the sky as we rode up – quite a sense of humor!
In the cab back, we had to laugh at the timing of the storm, it hadn’t rained since early that morning – we had waited (and wasted) 2 hours of good conditions before going out in the storm, so all and all, it was a pretty funny outing and we escaped with just a little grease under the fingernails and wet clothes so not too bad!
If you like to sweat, this is the place to exercise – in 30 to 40 minutes on the exercise bike, my shoes are literally filled with sweat as if I had walked through 4 inch puddles or ridden a tandem bike in a mini-typhoon! After spending an hour or so running the hairdryer inside and outside the shoes to dry them the first time, I figured out I could wear “flip-flops” with socks to avoid the problem. However, the wet shoes issue remains whenever we get caught in the rain – which has been twice – and there is no way to get my exercise socks dry (and they have to be washed every other day) without the hairdryer routine! However, since I’m an exercise addict and the more adverse conditions the better, I like my exercise routine of getting to the “gym” by 6:30 or so, working out for as long as I can take it, almost made an hour today, and observing from the seat position on the bike that it’s unlikely that anyone has used it during my stay.
2AUG07 – Buddhist Theme Park Field Trip
Just when you think you’ve seen everything HoChiMinh City has to offer, another amazing surprise is delivered up: a Buddhist Theme Park. This mini-Disney World rises out of the surrounding urban squalor with its golden 50-ft long dragons, ornate gold and red Buddhas and an beautifully ornate “Electric Pagoda” shrine. Mr. Chien had told us we were going to a “waterfall” – so we dressed in our bathing suits under shorts and t-shirts, only to find out it was a “theme park” – with a few little waterfalls as part of the scenery. We were also under the impression that we were taking the 4 to 6 year olds – I was envisioning a wild time trying to keep up with them at a waterfall and lake. Instead, we had 8 boys age 7 to about 13. The two youngest ones, 7 and 9, were already novice monks dressed in gray robes. They warmed up to us immediately and were holding hands with me as well as Aly.
Similarly to a theme park in the U.S., they had a “parade” with dancers and “floats” – mostly Vietnamese fruits with beautifully dressed “beauty queens” waving to the crowds. They also had some cheesy little rides that the monk permitted them to ride on – a boat ride through a “mountain” with various “scenes of dragons, cavemen and mythical animals; and a horrible Halloweenish “House of Horrors” with cheaply done “torture” scenes at every turn.
There were a few notable differences from U.S. theme parks. First, there was a gorgeous Pagoda or perhaps a “shrine” or temple since a pagoda is a place of worship and the location in a theme park would seem to limit the opportunity for any services. The paintings including the rotunda ceilings, as well as the central Buddha and other worship figures were incredibly ornate. The incongruous thing was a series of pastel colored fluorescent circle lights surrounding the Buddha’s head, which lit up in a 20 or 30-second pattern, I guess signifying his enlightenment. The electronic display was so inconsistent with the rest of the worship space but apparently that was the “style” of all the pagodas built in the 1970’s.
Second was the alligator farm – hundreds of alligators from adolescents to adults (the babies were out of view somewhere) and opportunities to buy bait to “fish for gators” – which the boys insisted that Aly try! Very cool.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Arrival in Vung Tau
We traveled from HoChiMinh City (which I'm learning to pronounce like Philip - strong accent on the "Ho" and glide over the "ChiMinh" similar to the "proper" way to pronounce "Knox' vul") to Vung Tau - a city of 200,000 that has miles of beaches south of the city around the tip of a peninsula - with 100 hotels according to the tour book, of which 95 you would be afraid to stay in! We planned to take the "hydrofoil" boat - supposed to ride on 6 inches of air, retired Russian Navy assault vessels apparently.
It turned out to be more of an adventure that we planned for, which is actually not so unusual for travel in Vietnam. It was a windy and rainy day so the "smooth as silk" ride on the hydrofoil was not so smooth - we got to the dock on the Saigon River [Fr. pronounciation: Shy' gun, accent on the first syllable] in downtown HCMC at 10:45am for the 11:00. However, despite being "scheduled" for every hour on the hour, it appeared that demand and/or availability of the hydrofoils determined how often they went so there was no 11AM. Waiting until noon wasn't bad, there is a decent little "river park" with benches all along the river in the down town, except that within 5 minutes of sitting down (after Aly had gone window shopping, I had 5 street urchins surrounding me trying to sell me books and trinkets.
I haven't had a chance to write about our shopping in the down town the afternoon before, after the visit to the Buddhist Theme Park - suffice it to say I'm very pleased with my $7 North Face backpack, and my $23 gold "Rolex" - I should have asked for orders before leaving home. Not sure we'll have time to go shopping again, but if anyone wants some great looking "name brand" watches, let me know, all in the $20 to $40 price range!
Back to the hydrofoil, although it looked pretty decrepit from the outside, it was actually fairly "luxurious" [by Vietnamese standards] on the inside, much like a US airplane only more leg room. Aly gets seasick so I was a bit worried about the ride - it was fairly smooth for the first 30 miles winding down the Saigon River, but then got pretty choppy as we ventured out into the South China Sea for the last 30 miles. Aly hung in great but didn't feel too good in the open sea at the end. However, we couldn't beat the price: $7.50 for a 60 mile ride (at about 40 mph, which is really moving on a boat!)
When we got to Vung Tau, it was so rough that the boat couldn't dock on the bottom of the peninsula near the beaches so we had to dock in the main harbor and take a cab through the city - very industrial with a series of oil refineries, chemical plants and seaport cranes. We had booked the only 4 star hotel on the beach, but it must have been some VERY far away stars, certainly not Michelin rated. The hotel actualy looked great from the outside but it was across the street from the beach and not so great on the inside, so after checking into our "deluxe room" with a view of the rubble in a vacant lot next door, with AC that hardly worked, the exercise room closed, we decided to check out and go to another "resort" hotel that was right on the beach across the street, which had been recommended by the taxi driver - we hould have listened to him in the first place. We got a cute little "bungalow" -- a separate thatched roof looking unit - much nicer with great AC, HBO and ESPN, and a nice little fridge that they stocked with water, beer and fruit juices - still a little Spartan in the furnishings and only room for one double bed we have to share. All during this time it is alternating pouring and drizzling - hotel staff speak broken English so you aren't quite sure what they understand of our questions.
Our hotel seemed very deserted when we checked in but the dining room was almost full for buffet breakfast this morning - nice little individually made fried or scrambled eggs but nothing but hot peppers available to add to make an omelet. Maybe 80 people at breakfast (all Japanese and Vietnamese tourists, no Americans at all or Europeans that we could tell.) All the "nice" hotels seem pretty deserted - after all it's the rainy season and it has rained EVERY day, but yesterday was the first day with no sunshine, the cab driver said there was a typhoon in Japan, affects all weather - the Internet says 60% chance of rain every day and cloudy. Nice sandy beach and water - very shallow, you can wade out 50 yards and the tide went out about that far, but Vietnamese people are not too concerned with cleaning up their trash, unfortunately. And none of the hotels or beach restaurants are either. Last night we found a very upscale new shopping area - European designer brands and it has a Starbucks type chain called "Highlands Coffee" here, from Montreal, great upscale coffee and we are there now using the Internet - hotel internet doesn't work! So we are happy hanging out hoping for sun, at least for another day, if it's not sunny by Sat. we may head back to HCMC - Aly's idea - she really likes the kids, the monk, Philippe and Xuan!
It turned out to be more of an adventure that we planned for, which is actually not so unusual for travel in Vietnam. It was a windy and rainy day so the "smooth as silk" ride on the hydrofoil was not so smooth - we got to the dock on the Saigon River [Fr. pronounciation: Shy' gun, accent on the first syllable] in downtown HCMC at 10:45am for the 11:00. However, despite being "scheduled" for every hour on the hour, it appeared that demand and/or availability of the hydrofoils determined how often they went so there was no 11AM. Waiting until noon wasn't bad, there is a decent little "river park" with benches all along the river in the down town, except that within 5 minutes of sitting down (after Aly had gone window shopping, I had 5 street urchins surrounding me trying to sell me books and trinkets.
I haven't had a chance to write about our shopping in the down town the afternoon before, after the visit to the Buddhist Theme Park - suffice it to say I'm very pleased with my $7 North Face backpack, and my $23 gold "Rolex" - I should have asked for orders before leaving home. Not sure we'll have time to go shopping again, but if anyone wants some great looking "name brand" watches, let me know, all in the $20 to $40 price range!
Back to the hydrofoil, although it looked pretty decrepit from the outside, it was actually fairly "luxurious" [by Vietnamese standards] on the inside, much like a US airplane only more leg room. Aly gets seasick so I was a bit worried about the ride - it was fairly smooth for the first 30 miles winding down the Saigon River, but then got pretty choppy as we ventured out into the South China Sea for the last 30 miles. Aly hung in great but didn't feel too good in the open sea at the end. However, we couldn't beat the price: $7.50 for a 60 mile ride (at about 40 mph, which is really moving on a boat!)
When we got to Vung Tau, it was so rough that the boat couldn't dock on the bottom of the peninsula near the beaches so we had to dock in the main harbor and take a cab through the city - very industrial with a series of oil refineries, chemical plants and seaport cranes. We had booked the only 4 star hotel on the beach, but it must have been some VERY far away stars, certainly not Michelin rated. The hotel actualy looked great from the outside but it was across the street from the beach and not so great on the inside, so after checking into our "deluxe room" with a view of the rubble in a vacant lot next door, with AC that hardly worked, the exercise room closed, we decided to check out and go to another "resort" hotel that was right on the beach across the street, which had been recommended by the taxi driver - we hould have listened to him in the first place. We got a cute little "bungalow" -- a separate thatched roof looking unit - much nicer with great AC, HBO and ESPN, and a nice little fridge that they stocked with water, beer and fruit juices - still a little Spartan in the furnishings and only room for one double bed we have to share. All during this time it is alternating pouring and drizzling - hotel staff speak broken English so you aren't quite sure what they understand of our questions.
Our hotel seemed very deserted when we checked in but the dining room was almost full for buffet breakfast this morning - nice little individually made fried or scrambled eggs but nothing but hot peppers available to add to make an omelet. Maybe 80 people at breakfast (all Japanese and Vietnamese tourists, no Americans at all or Europeans that we could tell.) All the "nice" hotels seem pretty deserted - after all it's the rainy season and it has rained EVERY day, but yesterday was the first day with no sunshine, the cab driver said there was a typhoon in Japan, affects all weather - the Internet says 60% chance of rain every day and cloudy. Nice sandy beach and water - very shallow, you can wade out 50 yards and the tide went out about that far, but Vietnamese people are not too concerned with cleaning up their trash, unfortunately. And none of the hotels or beach restaurants are either. Last night we found a very upscale new shopping area - European designer brands and it has a Starbucks type chain called "Highlands Coffee" here, from Montreal, great upscale coffee and we are there now using the Internet - hotel internet doesn't work! So we are happy hanging out hoping for sun, at least for another day, if it's not sunny by Sat. we may head back to HCMC - Aly's idea - she really likes the kids, the monk, Philippe and Xuan!
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
The Pagoda “Garden of Eden” + Random Thoughts on Vietnam
31JULY07 – The Pagoda “Garden of Eden” + Random Thoughts on Vietnam
The Faure B&B is immaculate, writing my blog at the computer around 6am yesterday morning, I observed why, as the young “chambermaid” Diem (“diem”) wet mopped and dusted every surface in the house before breakfast. That includes the front steps – the front double doors to the house are always open but the front gate is always locked. I must take some pictures of the wonderful countenance of the cook and caretaker, Duyen. She's about 4'6" with a smile that would melt anyone, and we are "buds" despite not being able to exchange anything but sign language! She also fixes the best Iced Coffee I've ever had - I'm getting a slight addiction!!
My main difficulty here is waiting to be served and asking for everything rather than getting it for myself. I much prefer to be self-sufficient and helpful – but I’m afraid it is an insult to do anything for myself here.
The diet is so healthy – I don’t think anyone exercises and there is not that much manual labor in the city and yet everyone is thin – the primary protein source is tofu, fried or boiled, and put in virtually every soup and rice dish, along with bean sprouts and local fish. According to Phillipe, the Vietnamese are fiercely independent compared to the Chinese and Japanese – much more like the Germans or French who have a very independent philosophy. Although there are some large high-rise apartments, they were largely built by foreign investors who didn’t understand that the local people would much prefer a very small house – a 12 to 15 foot store front by 40 ft deep with 1 or 2 stories of living space above it – than an apartment in a luxury building..
The prices are so interesting – initially unpredictable -- I think I am beginning to understand the basics:
Land is very scarce since Vietnam has more than double the population of California (84 million to 38) and less than half the land mass;
Natural resources are limited and expensive;
Imports or goods produced with imported energy or technology are expensive;
Anything based on local labor and local renewable resources is cheap.
Thus, a big house like Phillipe’s is worth $1.6 million but an hour professional massage is $3 or $4 and the basic food like rice and local vegetables and fruit are equally inexpensive.
To begin our day’s adventure, after a morning 5-mile run and “photo-trip” around the “neighborhood,” Mr. Chau and one of his young driver monks came in a 12-person van for a wonderful, and somewhat different, lunch at the Faure’s home: first course of shredded red and green cabbage, carrots, fried tofu, a few other unknown vegies; second course of stir fried veggies – mushrooms, a black rubbery tree fungus, green beans; final course of soup with several kinds of large beans/peas like giant black-eyed peas and lima beans, thick slippery rice noodles, coconut milk sauce, some sweeter fruit type things. [I was gently chastised for trying to eat the third course first!]
It was a long ride in the countryside out to the huge farm owned by the Pagoda: 66 km or about 40 miles but it took us 1hr 45 min. – averaging about 23mpg – with maybe 2 stoplights in the city. If possible, the traffic pattern is worse in the country than the city in that there are more bicycles, trucks, backhoes, tractors, buses and every slow moving type of vehicle you can imagine mixed in with the same dizzying array of motorbikes swerving everywhere. But the same speed limit prevailed: ignore the posted speed limit and go as fast as you dare (without hitting anyone)!
One interesting construction note: on the dirt road leading to the firm, the road builders had dumped a half mile of 2 – 4 inch sq. rocks, piled 3 ft. high on half the road, which reduced the 2 lane road to 1 lane, such that meeting cars had to back up to find a place where they could pass. We could see down the way where a team of men were shoveling the rocks over the full road and a steamroller was smoothing them into the dirt – not US construction standards, even in TN!
Arriving at the farm, we had no idea what to expect – but it was an incredible “Garden of Eden” with dozens of crops including rubber trees, bananas, mangoes, potatoes, Vietnamese medicinal herbs. The farm is 50 hectares: 1 hectare equals 10,000 sq. meters, or 2.5 meters = 125 acres. Apparently Mr. Chau first bought the land for the Ky Quang II Pagoda in 1996 with the idea of building the Orphanage there – he had less than 30 children at that time at Ky Quang II in HCMC. But the government wouldn’t approve the plan so he has expanded Ky Quang II to accommodate the 216 children they have now. [“Children” really means dependents since there are blind and semi-paralyzed residents as old as 35 and many blind students in the massage training program in their 20’s and 30’s.] But the plan remains to build a children’s center in the country there where the children can have land to live on rather than being in their small rooms in the city, and learn to cultivate the variety of crops that can grow there including dairy cattle. There were a couple families who lived there in rustic, if dilapidated surroundings, and a beautiful 9 month old boy who Aly quickly befriended!
On the way back. Mr. Chau asked Aly if she would remember him when she went home. She immediately exclaimed: “of course, I LOVE you!” which is no exaggeration, and you can see he has a great affection for her as well. I think it has been as a great bonding as I had hoped for with Aly and both the children and Mr. Chau. He is so accessible and so open, kind and affectionate with everyone – and has taken at least half of each day to spend with us! Being with him feels like the difference between being with a “holy man” and a “minister/administrator of the church.” The other memorable discussion we had was sitting having a glass of “lemonade” – which we were afraid to drink since it was not bottled or boiled water, but I risked a little anyway to be polite. Mr. Chau asked: why do you give your funds to us, is it to have a better life in heaven? He explained that for him doing good deeds created good karma, which creates better life in your next reincarnation. I explained that for me, it comes down to the simple imperative that if I or my loved ones were in need, I would want someone who had more than they needed to share. So that ethic is my duty since I have more than I need. It’s hard to say what he thought of that, except that my actions would create good karma and a good reincarnation, which I don’t totally discount.
We ended the ride back with some back and head massages – now that’s something you don’t expect to give and receive from just any “man of the cloth!”
The Faure B&B is immaculate, writing my blog at the computer around 6am yesterday morning, I observed why, as the young “chambermaid” Diem (“diem”) wet mopped and dusted every surface in the house before breakfast. That includes the front steps – the front double doors to the house are always open but the front gate is always locked. I must take some pictures of the wonderful countenance of the cook and caretaker, Duyen. She's about 4'6" with a smile that would melt anyone, and we are "buds" despite not being able to exchange anything but sign language! She also fixes the best Iced Coffee I've ever had - I'm getting a slight addiction!!
My main difficulty here is waiting to be served and asking for everything rather than getting it for myself. I much prefer to be self-sufficient and helpful – but I’m afraid it is an insult to do anything for myself here.
The diet is so healthy – I don’t think anyone exercises and there is not that much manual labor in the city and yet everyone is thin – the primary protein source is tofu, fried or boiled, and put in virtually every soup and rice dish, along with bean sprouts and local fish. According to Phillipe, the Vietnamese are fiercely independent compared to the Chinese and Japanese – much more like the Germans or French who have a very independent philosophy. Although there are some large high-rise apartments, they were largely built by foreign investors who didn’t understand that the local people would much prefer a very small house – a 12 to 15 foot store front by 40 ft deep with 1 or 2 stories of living space above it – than an apartment in a luxury building..
The prices are so interesting – initially unpredictable -- I think I am beginning to understand the basics:
Land is very scarce since Vietnam has more than double the population of California (84 million to 38) and less than half the land mass;
Natural resources are limited and expensive;
Imports or goods produced with imported energy or technology are expensive;
Anything based on local labor and local renewable resources is cheap.
Thus, a big house like Phillipe’s is worth $1.6 million but an hour professional massage is $3 or $4 and the basic food like rice and local vegetables and fruit are equally inexpensive.
To begin our day’s adventure, after a morning 5-mile run and “photo-trip” around the “neighborhood,” Mr. Chau and one of his young driver monks came in a 12-person van for a wonderful, and somewhat different, lunch at the Faure’s home: first course of shredded red and green cabbage, carrots, fried tofu, a few other unknown vegies; second course of stir fried veggies – mushrooms, a black rubbery tree fungus, green beans; final course of soup with several kinds of large beans/peas like giant black-eyed peas and lima beans, thick slippery rice noodles, coconut milk sauce, some sweeter fruit type things. [I was gently chastised for trying to eat the third course first!]
It was a long ride in the countryside out to the huge farm owned by the Pagoda: 66 km or about 40 miles but it took us 1hr 45 min. – averaging about 23mpg – with maybe 2 stoplights in the city. If possible, the traffic pattern is worse in the country than the city in that there are more bicycles, trucks, backhoes, tractors, buses and every slow moving type of vehicle you can imagine mixed in with the same dizzying array of motorbikes swerving everywhere. But the same speed limit prevailed: ignore the posted speed limit and go as fast as you dare (without hitting anyone)!
One interesting construction note: on the dirt road leading to the firm, the road builders had dumped a half mile of 2 – 4 inch sq. rocks, piled 3 ft. high on half the road, which reduced the 2 lane road to 1 lane, such that meeting cars had to back up to find a place where they could pass. We could see down the way where a team of men were shoveling the rocks over the full road and a steamroller was smoothing them into the dirt – not US construction standards, even in TN!
Arriving at the farm, we had no idea what to expect – but it was an incredible “Garden of Eden” with dozens of crops including rubber trees, bananas, mangoes, potatoes, Vietnamese medicinal herbs. The farm is 50 hectares: 1 hectare equals 10,000 sq. meters, or 2.5 meters = 125 acres. Apparently Mr. Chau first bought the land for the Ky Quang II Pagoda in 1996 with the idea of building the Orphanage there – he had less than 30 children at that time at Ky Quang II in HCMC. But the government wouldn’t approve the plan so he has expanded Ky Quang II to accommodate the 216 children they have now. [“Children” really means dependents since there are blind and semi-paralyzed residents as old as 35 and many blind students in the massage training program in their 20’s and 30’s.] But the plan remains to build a children’s center in the country there where the children can have land to live on rather than being in their small rooms in the city, and learn to cultivate the variety of crops that can grow there including dairy cattle. There were a couple families who lived there in rustic, if dilapidated surroundings, and a beautiful 9 month old boy who Aly quickly befriended!
On the way back. Mr. Chau asked Aly if she would remember him when she went home. She immediately exclaimed: “of course, I LOVE you!” which is no exaggeration, and you can see he has a great affection for her as well. I think it has been as a great bonding as I had hoped for with Aly and both the children and Mr. Chau. He is so accessible and so open, kind and affectionate with everyone – and has taken at least half of each day to spend with us! Being with him feels like the difference between being with a “holy man” and a “minister/administrator of the church.” The other memorable discussion we had was sitting having a glass of “lemonade” – which we were afraid to drink since it was not bottled or boiled water, but I risked a little anyway to be polite. Mr. Chau asked: why do you give your funds to us, is it to have a better life in heaven? He explained that for him doing good deeds created good karma, which creates better life in your next reincarnation. I explained that for me, it comes down to the simple imperative that if I or my loved ones were in need, I would want someone who had more than they needed to share. So that ethic is my duty since I have more than I need. It’s hard to say what he thought of that, except that my actions would create good karma and a good reincarnation, which I don’t totally discount.
We ended the ride back with some back and head massages – now that’s something you don’t expect to give and receive from just any “man of the cloth!”
Monday, July 30, 2007
Day Two at the Pagoda + the Massage Retreat Center
9:30PM: Today was the day of celebrations at the Pagoda in appreciation for the gift from the Center for Contemplative Justice in Nashville. We left at 8:15 to get to the Pagoda and I was wrong about one thing: there is a “rush hour” – it was virtual gridlock getting into the city across the Saigon River bridge. The river is a typical “rain forest” river – muddy brown, with many large clumps of water vegetation floating down stream. It’s not as large as I expected, probably less water than the Cumberland for example.
When we arrived at the Pagoda, the young children (2 – 10), probably 80 to 100 of them, were assembled in the meeting hall. It was amazing to see the children sitting so quietly waiting for us – especially after seeing how “spirited” they were in their own rooms on Saturday. Ven. Mr. Chau had special gifts assembled for us to distribute – a new school uniform (white shirt/blouse, navy pants/jumper - very cute) plus a 10,000 Dang bill for each child (about 62 cents). I thought it was thoughtful for Mr. Chau to have us distribute the gifts to each child but I did not understand in the limited translation we got of the Vietnamese speeches that the gifts were purchase “on our behalf” and the children were told we were bringing them gifts of love and care from America. All of this was recorded by a special video and still photographer – who at the end of the day asked me how long a video I would like – apparently Mr. Chau is having a video made for us! That was NOT good news to Aly! It is quite embarrassing to be the center of attention in this way – especially when it is such a gift to be here and experience the humility and joy of the people. However the last thing we want to do is appear to ungrateful and unaccepting of their kindness so we try as best we can to appreciate everything.
For the next 2 hours, we went to each of the child rooms again starting with the oldest and most handicapped children. We were much more comfortable today in holding, touching and talking to the children. It’s difficult to know what the most handicapped ones perceive since they don’t speak and often don’t smile and we have no experience with children with these severe disabilities. Many have misformed hands and feet, some are emaciated despite having all they want to eat. I come back to the phrase of Mother Teresa that she sees “God in every face” as I try to engage each child.
Then Mr. Chau hosted us for an elaborate vegan lunch with four of the monks, all 20 to 30 years old, and a group of about 30 volunteers from the University. Apparently these are the only male monks there except for about 5 “novices” who are 10 to 12 years old and look about 7 or 8. It seems a bit sad to have these pre-adolescent boys entering this enveloping community but we certainly don’t understand their circumstances or want this means culturally to them. We got some beautiful pictures of the novices that we will post at the end of the blog. We were a little hesitant about the food, not knowing what kind of water is used in the cooking and how it would go with our Western stomachs – but it was delicious and “so far so good 10 hours later!” We had about 6 different dishes including a great curry soup with vegetables and tofu that I concentrated on.
After lunch we went to a new “resort center” that Mr. Chau has somehow acquired, with the goal of making it into a retreat center with musical entertainment. He seems incredibly entrepreneurial for a holy man – especially when he doesn’t seem to have any business manager or real financial advisor.
However, I had some severe doubts about this place as we headed off the main road into the first semi-rural slum we had seen: a half-flooded dirt road, with a string of dilapidated houses and businesses on the right and an intimidating and polluted looking ditch/stream on the left. However, after perhaps a slow ¼ mile, we came upon a very surprising sight, starting with two tile life-size giraffes “eating” leaves from a tree.
The retreat center is a beautiful and elaborate place – perhaps 5 acres – on the Saigon River, with a “band shell,” a bar area (who knows if the Buddhists will serve alcohol) and a “spa” where the blind students will give massages. There are two dormitories for the girls/women and men (18 to 30 years old), respectively. Mr. Chau seems so relaxed and happy to walk around with us showing us each of the buildings and the elaborate grounds. Right before we left, we climbed into a little gazebo, perhaps 8 x 8, with a thatched roof but open air sides, perhaps 3 feet off the ground, which is used now for meditation. He asked us to sit in the half-lotus and lotus positions and asked if we felt the peace of the place when we were sitting there, which we did. Very cool!
After the tour we came back for a similar celebration and gift presentation to the blind students. We had not seen them before, apparently they live and have their education and training courses on the second floor. Again we gifts to each of about 80 people - much older ranging from 18 to one man about 60. This speech by the teachers about us was so touching that some of the students cried, I think they are overwhelmed when people come from around the world to care for them. It's an image and experience that we won't soon forget.
There are a couple pictures below, we will try to post more later - waiting to hear some comments!
When we arrived at the Pagoda, the young children (2 – 10), probably 80 to 100 of them, were assembled in the meeting hall. It was amazing to see the children sitting so quietly waiting for us – especially after seeing how “spirited” they were in their own rooms on Saturday. Ven. Mr. Chau had special gifts assembled for us to distribute – a new school uniform (white shirt/blouse, navy pants/jumper - very cute) plus a 10,000 Dang bill for each child (about 62 cents). I thought it was thoughtful for Mr. Chau to have us distribute the gifts to each child but I did not understand in the limited translation we got of the Vietnamese speeches that the gifts were purchase “on our behalf” and the children were told we were bringing them gifts of love and care from America. All of this was recorded by a special video and still photographer – who at the end of the day asked me how long a video I would like – apparently Mr. Chau is having a video made for us! That was NOT good news to Aly! It is quite embarrassing to be the center of attention in this way – especially when it is such a gift to be here and experience the humility and joy of the people. However the last thing we want to do is appear to ungrateful and unaccepting of their kindness so we try as best we can to appreciate everything.
For the next 2 hours, we went to each of the child rooms again starting with the oldest and most handicapped children. We were much more comfortable today in holding, touching and talking to the children. It’s difficult to know what the most handicapped ones perceive since they don’t speak and often don’t smile and we have no experience with children with these severe disabilities. Many have misformed hands and feet, some are emaciated despite having all they want to eat. I come back to the phrase of Mother Teresa that she sees “God in every face” as I try to engage each child.
Then Mr. Chau hosted us for an elaborate vegan lunch with four of the monks, all 20 to 30 years old, and a group of about 30 volunteers from the University. Apparently these are the only male monks there except for about 5 “novices” who are 10 to 12 years old and look about 7 or 8. It seems a bit sad to have these pre-adolescent boys entering this enveloping community but we certainly don’t understand their circumstances or want this means culturally to them. We got some beautiful pictures of the novices that we will post at the end of the blog. We were a little hesitant about the food, not knowing what kind of water is used in the cooking and how it would go with our Western stomachs – but it was delicious and “so far so good 10 hours later!” We had about 6 different dishes including a great curry soup with vegetables and tofu that I concentrated on.
After lunch we went to a new “resort center” that Mr. Chau has somehow acquired, with the goal of making it into a retreat center with musical entertainment. He seems incredibly entrepreneurial for a holy man – especially when he doesn’t seem to have any business manager or real financial advisor.
However, I had some severe doubts about this place as we headed off the main road into the first semi-rural slum we had seen: a half-flooded dirt road, with a string of dilapidated houses and businesses on the right and an intimidating and polluted looking ditch/stream on the left. However, after perhaps a slow ¼ mile, we came upon a very surprising sight, starting with two tile life-size giraffes “eating” leaves from a tree.
The retreat center is a beautiful and elaborate place – perhaps 5 acres – on the Saigon River, with a “band shell,” a bar area (who knows if the Buddhists will serve alcohol) and a “spa” where the blind students will give massages. There are two dormitories for the girls/women and men (18 to 30 years old), respectively. Mr. Chau seems so relaxed and happy to walk around with us showing us each of the buildings and the elaborate grounds. Right before we left, we climbed into a little gazebo, perhaps 8 x 8, with a thatched roof but open air sides, perhaps 3 feet off the ground, which is used now for meditation. He asked us to sit in the half-lotus and lotus positions and asked if we felt the peace of the place when we were sitting there, which we did. Very cool!
After the tour we came back for a similar celebration and gift presentation to the blind students. We had not seen them before, apparently they live and have their education and training courses on the second floor. Again we gifts to each of about 80 people - much older ranging from 18 to one man about 60. This speech by the teachers about us was so touching that some of the students cried, I think they are overwhelmed when people come from around the world to care for them. It's an image and experience that we won't soon forget.
There are a couple pictures below, we will try to post more later - waiting to hear some comments!
Sunday, July 29, 2007
HCMC Traffic and the Cu Chi Tunnels
30JULY07 – I’m up early again today (3:45am) – good time to reflect on yesterday’s trip to Cu Chi. Aly was gung-ho to see the Cu Chi Tunnel System ruins – an integral part of the Viet Cong victory in the American War. We engaged a driver for the 1.5 hour trip there (maybe 30 miles – with the first 10 through the city) for an intimidating 500,000 Dang. But once you figure out the math, at 16,100 Dang / US$, that’s $32 for a 5 hour trip including all gasoline – in an air conditioned, immaculate Toyota mini-SUV with the headrests covered in hand-made white tablecloth linen.
But before describing the trip and ruins, my top 10 list of reasons I love the traffic system:
10. It’s a lot like “bumper cars,” which I find really fun, but without the bumping. What adds to the excitement is the variety of sizes and speeds of the vehicles – imagine bumper cars that included Escalades and tricycles, with a few pedestrians thrown into the mix. The parallels to bumper cars include: there are no lanes, right of ways, or any pattern of speed or expectation representing the “rules of the road.”
9. It’s basically the “law of the jungle,” with a Buddhist philosophy that all life is sacred and everyone is to be respected equally. The traffic “law of the jungle” is based on size – the bigger your vehicle the greater your right of way – but the Buddhist twist is that you then have responsibility to warn / avoid the smaller vehicles including bikes and pedestrians.
8. There is no rush hour, or more accurately, there is no difference in the constancy of the rush hour norm that lasts from 6am to midnight 7 days a week. There was as much congestion at 10AM Sunday morning on the way to Cu Chi as Saturday afternoon – we shall see about Monday morning when we leave about 8:30 for the Pagoda.
7. The variety of motorbike transport items is a never-ending source of entertainment, in fact it’s almost a contest to see who can get the longest, heaviest, tallest and most unusual “stuff” on his/her motorbike:
teenagers with 20 foot long sections of plastic or metal pipe or building materials, or multiple sections of plate glass windows, or stacks of bricks;
old men with 6 or 7 50-lb sacks of what look to be onions strapped everywhere, including 1 or 2 huge bags between the driver and the handle bars;
families with two to four children – after all the motorbike IS the family vehicle so when the family has an outing, everyone piles on. [Philippe notes that as a matter of safety, the government has enacted new laws requiring helmets and restricting the number of passengers to two adults and one child – however, I would say no more than 20% of people wore helmets, and I never saw one on a child, plus many families pile all of their children on with the parents.]
6. Ninety percent or more of the women wear masks of some type, typically colorful cloth covering up to their eyes, sometimes scarves wrapped around their heads – the primary purpose is to avoid the sun and getting more of a tan since “pale is beautiful” in the Vietnamese culture. There are some practical benefits in terms of reducing the pollution breathed and the facial “road grit” that must be churned up by the sea of motorbikes.
5. There are no stop signs! None! Nada! It’s heaven! Not in the city, not in the country! The only “traffic controls” are the traffic lights at the major intersection in the city. And the lights have a little timer that counts down the seconds before it will turn green. In the city, it’s the responsibility of the cross traffic to “ease into” the flow, but at the same time the “flow” must swerve and accommodate them. In the countryside, the “through traffic” slows at every intersection and honks to alert the side traffic not to simply zip across at full speed. Thus, all of the traffic rules seem to distill down to two: “never stop” but “don’t hit anyone.”
4. Honking is beautiful! Honking is the communication of choice to signal one’s intentions and location – rather than being an ignominious badge of “road rage,” honking is the polite way to communicate, as evidenced by the greater frequency of honking by Mr. Chau than the taxi drivers we’ve ridden with.
3. Everyone drives incredibly slowly by U.S. standards, but because of the constant swerving and “video game” driving conditions, it feels incredibly fast. The posted speed limits range from 15 km/hr on the narrowest streets (9.6 mph) to 25km/hr (15.8 mph) on the typical 2-way streets to 40 km/hr (24.8) on the 6 lane thoroughfares. The average speed is probably 40% to 60% higher than the posted speed (i.e., 30 to 40 mpg on the thorough fares),
2. All traffic behavior is on the “honor system” – we have yet to see a police car or any military or other police official who appeared to be concerned with enforcement of the traffic laws.
1. Although I have protested otherwise since I arrived, I am now forced to admit that if I were here on my own or lived here I would definitely “plunge into the fray,” on my bicycle if possible – how could I resist this “bungie-jumping” approach to getting around!
The Visit to the Cu Chi Tunnels
Returning to our trip to the Cu Chi Tunnels, the car ride was exceedingly comfortable and interesting. The most striking single thing we observed was the absence of any sign of rural poverty. We saw no shacks or shanties at all – every house was built of stucco or brick with a metal or ceramic tile roof. Everything was green and lush – how could it not be – it’s rained an average of 2 inches a day for our first 3 days here, at this rate HCMC will top Nashville’s 50 inches of annual rainfall in less than a month, and the rainy season is 6 months long from June to November. People were working in many of the rice fields – walking on narrow raised mud borders between the flooded or semi-flooded plants. Lots of cows, a few horses. We stopped to examine the trees in a rubber tree farm – a tiny woman (maybe 4’4”) was working to collect the milky latex that drips into a bowl strapped to each tree below a small “trough” at the end of a barber pole slice around the tree’s bark.
The roads were very good but narrow – it was intimidating to meet another car or bus, especially with the number of pedestrians, families sitting on the edge of the pavement, bicycles and motorbikes – and no one stopped at any intersection!
Arriving at the Cu Chi Tunnel Ruins, my first impression was my trip to communist Yugoslavia under Tito in 1966 – old style Communist propaganda with pictures everywhere of the beloved comrade leader, this time Ho Chi Minh instead of Tito. Apart from the flat screen tv’s that showed the scratchy black and white propaganda films that appeared to have been made in the mid 70’s right after the war ended, everything at the Ruins looked to be 40 or 50 years sold.
The history of the Cu Chi Tunnels is fascinating – approximately 16,000 Viet Cong lived underground in 150 miles of multi-layered system of tunnels just 15 to 30 miles from Saigon city center. Originally built in the 1940’s by the Viet Minh peasant guerrilla army to fight the superior military technology of the French Army, the tunnels were dramatically expanded in the 1960’s to fight an even more technically sophisticated American Army. The system included sleeping quarters, kitchens, dining halls, military planning rooms, munitions factories (primarily recycling of American undetonated bombs into bullets, grenades and land mines) and hospitals. With many under-water and hidden jungle trapdoor entrances, the VC were able to stage surprise military attacks at will and then virtually disappear.
For every American tactic adopted: using trained dogs; sending U.S. military into the tunnels that were located; carpet bombing and eventually using chemical warfare to indiscriminately kill the villagers and destroy their crops and land, the VC adapted a new guerilla strategy. It is eerie to “walk” through the 3 foot high 2 feet wide tunnels, even a short distance. And very intimidating to go around a curve that is in complete darkness. However, the tunnel quickly recovers into light after a few feet of “groping trust” that we won’t fall into an unseen abyss or be attacked by some snake or reptile who decided to take up residence. We were glad to be up safely on the ground again after just 50 yards or less of “tunneling.” Two other highlights:
1. The rusting ruin of a US tank that remains as a battlefield artifact, a dilapidated “tomb of the unknown soldier;” and
2. Firing an AK47 U.S. assault rifle, presumably remaining from the war, at a target range. Neither Aly or I have ever hunted or even like guns, but shooting a weapon of war surrounded by the remnants of an incredibly brutal and unjust U.S. invasion was a powerful experience.
Despite “winning” the war, the toll on the VC was horrific, only 6,000 of the 16,000 troops living in the tunnels survived. Thus, while the “exhibits” [mostly dugout “rooms” 8 to 10 feet down with thatched roofs to keep out the rain] are an almost amusing barrage of Communist propaganda of how the peace-loving women and children of Cu Chi, fought the American invaders to protect the homes and fields, the stark reality of the American decimation of the people and land is abundantly clear. This was a battlefield, still pock-marked with 20 foot deep 40 foot wide B-52 bomb craters. And the land and water is still poisoned with napalm and dioxin – creating frighteningly high birth defect rates and low crop yields. There is simply no excuse for what the U.S. did here.
But before describing the trip and ruins, my top 10 list of reasons I love the traffic system:
10. It’s a lot like “bumper cars,” which I find really fun, but without the bumping. What adds to the excitement is the variety of sizes and speeds of the vehicles – imagine bumper cars that included Escalades and tricycles, with a few pedestrians thrown into the mix. The parallels to bumper cars include: there are no lanes, right of ways, or any pattern of speed or expectation representing the “rules of the road.”
9. It’s basically the “law of the jungle,” with a Buddhist philosophy that all life is sacred and everyone is to be respected equally. The traffic “law of the jungle” is based on size – the bigger your vehicle the greater your right of way – but the Buddhist twist is that you then have responsibility to warn / avoid the smaller vehicles including bikes and pedestrians.
8. There is no rush hour, or more accurately, there is no difference in the constancy of the rush hour norm that lasts from 6am to midnight 7 days a week. There was as much congestion at 10AM Sunday morning on the way to Cu Chi as Saturday afternoon – we shall see about Monday morning when we leave about 8:30 for the Pagoda.
7. The variety of motorbike transport items is a never-ending source of entertainment, in fact it’s almost a contest to see who can get the longest, heaviest, tallest and most unusual “stuff” on his/her motorbike:
teenagers with 20 foot long sections of plastic or metal pipe or building materials, or multiple sections of plate glass windows, or stacks of bricks;
old men with 6 or 7 50-lb sacks of what look to be onions strapped everywhere, including 1 or 2 huge bags between the driver and the handle bars;
families with two to four children – after all the motorbike IS the family vehicle so when the family has an outing, everyone piles on. [Philippe notes that as a matter of safety, the government has enacted new laws requiring helmets and restricting the number of passengers to two adults and one child – however, I would say no more than 20% of people wore helmets, and I never saw one on a child, plus many families pile all of their children on with the parents.]
6. Ninety percent or more of the women wear masks of some type, typically colorful cloth covering up to their eyes, sometimes scarves wrapped around their heads – the primary purpose is to avoid the sun and getting more of a tan since “pale is beautiful” in the Vietnamese culture. There are some practical benefits in terms of reducing the pollution breathed and the facial “road grit” that must be churned up by the sea of motorbikes.
5. There are no stop signs! None! Nada! It’s heaven! Not in the city, not in the country! The only “traffic controls” are the traffic lights at the major intersection in the city. And the lights have a little timer that counts down the seconds before it will turn green. In the city, it’s the responsibility of the cross traffic to “ease into” the flow, but at the same time the “flow” must swerve and accommodate them. In the countryside, the “through traffic” slows at every intersection and honks to alert the side traffic not to simply zip across at full speed. Thus, all of the traffic rules seem to distill down to two: “never stop” but “don’t hit anyone.”
4. Honking is beautiful! Honking is the communication of choice to signal one’s intentions and location – rather than being an ignominious badge of “road rage,” honking is the polite way to communicate, as evidenced by the greater frequency of honking by Mr. Chau than the taxi drivers we’ve ridden with.
3. Everyone drives incredibly slowly by U.S. standards, but because of the constant swerving and “video game” driving conditions, it feels incredibly fast. The posted speed limits range from 15 km/hr on the narrowest streets (9.6 mph) to 25km/hr (15.8 mph) on the typical 2-way streets to 40 km/hr (24.8) on the 6 lane thoroughfares. The average speed is probably 40% to 60% higher than the posted speed (i.e., 30 to 40 mpg on the thorough fares),
2. All traffic behavior is on the “honor system” – we have yet to see a police car or any military or other police official who appeared to be concerned with enforcement of the traffic laws.
1. Although I have protested otherwise since I arrived, I am now forced to admit that if I were here on my own or lived here I would definitely “plunge into the fray,” on my bicycle if possible – how could I resist this “bungie-jumping” approach to getting around!
The Visit to the Cu Chi Tunnels
Returning to our trip to the Cu Chi Tunnels, the car ride was exceedingly comfortable and interesting. The most striking single thing we observed was the absence of any sign of rural poverty. We saw no shacks or shanties at all – every house was built of stucco or brick with a metal or ceramic tile roof. Everything was green and lush – how could it not be – it’s rained an average of 2 inches a day for our first 3 days here, at this rate HCMC will top Nashville’s 50 inches of annual rainfall in less than a month, and the rainy season is 6 months long from June to November. People were working in many of the rice fields – walking on narrow raised mud borders between the flooded or semi-flooded plants. Lots of cows, a few horses. We stopped to examine the trees in a rubber tree farm – a tiny woman (maybe 4’4”) was working to collect the milky latex that drips into a bowl strapped to each tree below a small “trough” at the end of a barber pole slice around the tree’s bark.
The roads were very good but narrow – it was intimidating to meet another car or bus, especially with the number of pedestrians, families sitting on the edge of the pavement, bicycles and motorbikes – and no one stopped at any intersection!
Arriving at the Cu Chi Tunnel Ruins, my first impression was my trip to communist Yugoslavia under Tito in 1966 – old style Communist propaganda with pictures everywhere of the beloved comrade leader, this time Ho Chi Minh instead of Tito. Apart from the flat screen tv’s that showed the scratchy black and white propaganda films that appeared to have been made in the mid 70’s right after the war ended, everything at the Ruins looked to be 40 or 50 years sold.
The history of the Cu Chi Tunnels is fascinating – approximately 16,000 Viet Cong lived underground in 150 miles of multi-layered system of tunnels just 15 to 30 miles from Saigon city center. Originally built in the 1940’s by the Viet Minh peasant guerrilla army to fight the superior military technology of the French Army, the tunnels were dramatically expanded in the 1960’s to fight an even more technically sophisticated American Army. The system included sleeping quarters, kitchens, dining halls, military planning rooms, munitions factories (primarily recycling of American undetonated bombs into bullets, grenades and land mines) and hospitals. With many under-water and hidden jungle trapdoor entrances, the VC were able to stage surprise military attacks at will and then virtually disappear.
For every American tactic adopted: using trained dogs; sending U.S. military into the tunnels that were located; carpet bombing and eventually using chemical warfare to indiscriminately kill the villagers and destroy their crops and land, the VC adapted a new guerilla strategy. It is eerie to “walk” through the 3 foot high 2 feet wide tunnels, even a short distance. And very intimidating to go around a curve that is in complete darkness. However, the tunnel quickly recovers into light after a few feet of “groping trust” that we won’t fall into an unseen abyss or be attacked by some snake or reptile who decided to take up residence. We were glad to be up safely on the ground again after just 50 yards or less of “tunneling.” Two other highlights:
1. The rusting ruin of a US tank that remains as a battlefield artifact, a dilapidated “tomb of the unknown soldier;” and
2. Firing an AK47 U.S. assault rifle, presumably remaining from the war, at a target range. Neither Aly or I have ever hunted or even like guns, but shooting a weapon of war surrounded by the remnants of an incredibly brutal and unjust U.S. invasion was a powerful experience.
Despite “winning” the war, the toll on the VC was horrific, only 6,000 of the 16,000 troops living in the tunnels survived. Thus, while the “exhibits” [mostly dugout “rooms” 8 to 10 feet down with thatched roofs to keep out the rain] are an almost amusing barrage of Communist propaganda of how the peace-loving women and children of Cu Chi, fought the American invaders to protect the homes and fields, the stark reality of the American decimation of the people and land is abundantly clear. This was a battlefield, still pock-marked with 20 foot deep 40 foot wide B-52 bomb craters. And the land and water is still poisoned with napalm and dioxin – creating frighteningly high birth defect rates and low crop yields. There is simply no excuse for what the U.S. did here.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
A Day at the Pagoda - Ky Quang II
28JULY07 – Nothing prepares you for a “Day at the Pagoda!” Getting there is an extraordinary adventure in itself. The only way to describe the traffic pattern of motorbikes (mixed with bicycles, cars and buses in a ratio of about 50:1, 500:1, and 5000:1 respectively) is to imagine a swarm of bees on a hive, each knowing its objective and working very hard to achieve it, but to the outside observer all appears to be chaos. Traveling at varying speeds from 15 to 40mph (while dodging the bikes traveling at 5 to 15mph), the motor bikes weave in and out generally 3 to 5 abreast on two-way streets barely wide enough for 2 cars to meet, with no traffic lights or breaks in the flow. Thus, with 6 to 10 motorbikes weaving in opposite directions at any instant, a left turn across the oncoming traffic generally is negotiated by moving onto the wrong side of the road to establish one’s intention and then gradually moving left while the oncoming motor bikes swerve to their left to avoid the head-on collision. And pedestrians? Forget it, burn some incense in the temple and just step right out since there will never be a break in the traffic, just take on faith that everyone will swerve around you!
In this teeming city of 8 million (1/3 of which are here “illegally” having been removed to the countryside by the Communist regime as supporters of the South in the “American War” or relegated to the rural area), we whiz past literally thousands of retail outlets – every street between our residence and the Pagoda (probably 10 miles or so) has wall to wall buildings, typically about 15 ft wide, with the ground floor selling something highly specialized (don’t ask me what in most cases!) These are hard-working folks – very few appear to have any customers but the shops are open from 5AM to 9PM 7 days a week just in case. We recognize three or four English names near a few of the bigger “upscale” intersections: Internet, Karaoke, KFC and Beer Pub. Finally we branch off into an even smaller street – should be a one-way but of course it’s not – we come upon a surreal sight: the Ky Quang II Pagoda (“KQII”) and Handicapped Children Center.
KQII rises like a Disney attraction out of nowhere – built to look like a volcanic mountain maybe 50 feet high – where the roller coaster should be emerging is the smiling 20 foot Buddha face “carved” into the mountain and painted reddish-pink. A 20 foot high gold arched entrance is surrounded by gold carvings of dragons and other mythological creatures. As we drive past the incense vendors into the courtyard, full of at least 100 parked motorbikes, the sights and smells are overwhelming. KQII fills about half of a US city block – and is home to 216 mostly handicapped children (about 20 or so of the infants and toddlers are normal and in addition to going to school become employed as caretakers of the handicapped children) and about 90 monks, mostly slight unisex women with shaved heads and dull gray robes. Before we can fully acclimate to the fountains, carvings, and small prayer enclaves with intricate gold figures, Ven. Thich Thien Chieu (“Mr. Chau” for westerners) comes up to greet us dressed in the traditional saffron robes. Barely 5 feet tall with a beatific smile, he presents Aly with a basket of red roses and pink orchids and welcomes us profusely.
On the way to visit the children, housed in two stories of rooms loosely connected to the back of the Pagoda, we first come to the medical clinic. Mr. Chau shows us the register book, which records the name, diagnosis, and “prescription” given to each of the 300 to 400 people seen each day. There are two herbal doctors who make the diagnoses – all of the prescriptive remedies come from 20 to 30 different kinds of herbs found in 18 in. by 3 ft. white plastic rice sacks (that hold 100 lbs of rice or so). The “pharmacists” lay out 5 or 6 sheets of tabloid shaped newspaper, and reading the prescription list of herbs to be mixed, sprinkle an imprecise handful of each ingredient into the middle of each sheet. The prescriptions typically have 8 to 12 different herbs – all very dry – the obvious ones being different tree barks but most are dried to a greenish brown and emit little smell. Once the prescription is filled, the sheets are folded up, “tied” with a rubber band, and the 5 or so little identical packages are put in a plastic bag for the patient. Each daily prescription parcel is designed to be boiled down over a period of many hours into a single cup of “tea,” the flavor of which I cannot imagine. Approximately 5% of the diagnosed entries say “HIV” – the remainder are unintelligible to us but include diabetes and other serious ailments.
I've run out of time - we are off to see the Cu Chi Tunnels so the experience with the children, monks and other caregivers will have to wait until we return!
The Cu Chi Tunnels were great, but back to yesterday's visit to the Pagoda (which I have learned is a place of worship rather than a shrine in Vietnam, but is just the opposite in China where a "temple" is a place of worship and a "pagoda" is a shrine).
After the clinic tour, we reach the rooms for the children. The first room we enter houses 10 or 12 children ages 6 mos. to about 3 ½. The children are in cotton blue shorts and t-shirt “uniforms.” Knowing that some children are HIV positive or have AIDS and all are a little shy when we first come in, we first awkwardly the observers. However, Mr. Chau is immediately on the floor hugging and laughing with the children. Thus, within a few minutes the active ones are in our arms and laughing at the camera images when we show them their own photos and those of the other children. There are several in cribs with severe disabilities who we don’t quite know how to approach – immediately to our left is a hydrocephalic girl who is crying and whose face appears to be in a permanent “scream.” I’m not sure what is the culturally appropriate reaction – but Aly jumps in to comfort the child and stroke her hair, so I take the arm of another similarly deformed child in another crib. It’s hard to know whether the 5 or 6 caregivers, all women but only half dressed as monks, consider us intruders or welcome partners. My conclusion is that the shyness and language barrier is the reason they hold back – since Mr. Chau is so effusive about us being there (as captured by his omnipresent camera-wielding assistant!)
The first room is the largest one we see – perhaps 15 x 20 and “self-sufficient” with a cooking stove, small washer and dryer, cribs for each child, and shelves with clothes and toys. Each room we visited thereafter had progressively older children. The children under 6 or 7 seemed to have a sufficient number of caregivers, but I’m not sure that was true for the older children. Every room had its own kitchen and cooked similar meals of rice, steamed vegetables and small amounts of meat – despite the fact that the monks are vegans. After the first room, we felt more and more comfortable with the children even though they were more severely handicapped – to the point that only the blind children could feed themselves. At the end of the afternoon, we had a long talk with Mr. Chau – he was so friendly and appreciative in inviting us to come back and spend the full day on Monday to: have a ceremony to accept our gift; give presents that he would prepare for all of the children; take us to another of his pagodas; visit the Pagoda’s farm where they raise vegetables and are interested in raising their own medicinal herbs, have lunch and dinner and stay for after dinner meditation with the monks. All in all, Mr. Chau was delightful and made us feel like honored guests – exuding the kind of delightful grace and energy that makes one feel content in his presence, even in the most foreign of surroundings.
It has been marvelous to have Philippe and his wife Xuan as our hosts - incredibly gracious -they have made us feel completely at home in their beautiful French-style "mansion" - 3 floors, 6 guest rooms on the 3rd floor with Phillipe's business office and their personal quarters on the second floor and the ground floor being the kitchen, open air (but covered dining room and 50 foot swimming pool that extends beyond the reach of the house). We have a "North American" Internet phone to call home and broadband Internet access plus a "family" to eat with an educate us about Vietnam and a wonderful Vietnamese cook who prepares amazing traditional Vietnamese rice, vegetable and chicken or fish (Talipia last night) dishes. Philippe and Xuan (and their 17-year old son Patrick) speak French as their first language, English as their second, and Xuan is fluent in Vietnamese so she acts as translator at the Orphanage. It's a beautiful and relaxing place to stay, surrounded by the teeming chaos of HCMC urban life.
In this teeming city of 8 million (1/3 of which are here “illegally” having been removed to the countryside by the Communist regime as supporters of the South in the “American War” or relegated to the rural area), we whiz past literally thousands of retail outlets – every street between our residence and the Pagoda (probably 10 miles or so) has wall to wall buildings, typically about 15 ft wide, with the ground floor selling something highly specialized (don’t ask me what in most cases!) These are hard-working folks – very few appear to have any customers but the shops are open from 5AM to 9PM 7 days a week just in case. We recognize three or four English names near a few of the bigger “upscale” intersections: Internet, Karaoke, KFC and Beer Pub. Finally we branch off into an even smaller street – should be a one-way but of course it’s not – we come upon a surreal sight: the Ky Quang II Pagoda (“KQII”) and Handicapped Children Center.
KQII rises like a Disney attraction out of nowhere – built to look like a volcanic mountain maybe 50 feet high – where the roller coaster should be emerging is the smiling 20 foot Buddha face “carved” into the mountain and painted reddish-pink. A 20 foot high gold arched entrance is surrounded by gold carvings of dragons and other mythological creatures. As we drive past the incense vendors into the courtyard, full of at least 100 parked motorbikes, the sights and smells are overwhelming. KQII fills about half of a US city block – and is home to 216 mostly handicapped children (about 20 or so of the infants and toddlers are normal and in addition to going to school become employed as caretakers of the handicapped children) and about 90 monks, mostly slight unisex women with shaved heads and dull gray robes. Before we can fully acclimate to the fountains, carvings, and small prayer enclaves with intricate gold figures, Ven. Thich Thien Chieu (“Mr. Chau” for westerners) comes up to greet us dressed in the traditional saffron robes. Barely 5 feet tall with a beatific smile, he presents Aly with a basket of red roses and pink orchids and welcomes us profusely.
On the way to visit the children, housed in two stories of rooms loosely connected to the back of the Pagoda, we first come to the medical clinic. Mr. Chau shows us the register book, which records the name, diagnosis, and “prescription” given to each of the 300 to 400 people seen each day. There are two herbal doctors who make the diagnoses – all of the prescriptive remedies come from 20 to 30 different kinds of herbs found in 18 in. by 3 ft. white plastic rice sacks (that hold 100 lbs of rice or so). The “pharmacists” lay out 5 or 6 sheets of tabloid shaped newspaper, and reading the prescription list of herbs to be mixed, sprinkle an imprecise handful of each ingredient into the middle of each sheet. The prescriptions typically have 8 to 12 different herbs – all very dry – the obvious ones being different tree barks but most are dried to a greenish brown and emit little smell. Once the prescription is filled, the sheets are folded up, “tied” with a rubber band, and the 5 or so little identical packages are put in a plastic bag for the patient. Each daily prescription parcel is designed to be boiled down over a period of many hours into a single cup of “tea,” the flavor of which I cannot imagine. Approximately 5% of the diagnosed entries say “HIV” – the remainder are unintelligible to us but include diabetes and other serious ailments.
I've run out of time - we are off to see the Cu Chi Tunnels so the experience with the children, monks and other caregivers will have to wait until we return!
The Cu Chi Tunnels were great, but back to yesterday's visit to the Pagoda (which I have learned is a place of worship rather than a shrine in Vietnam, but is just the opposite in China where a "temple" is a place of worship and a "pagoda" is a shrine).
After the clinic tour, we reach the rooms for the children. The first room we enter houses 10 or 12 children ages 6 mos. to about 3 ½. The children are in cotton blue shorts and t-shirt “uniforms.” Knowing that some children are HIV positive or have AIDS and all are a little shy when we first come in, we first awkwardly the observers. However, Mr. Chau is immediately on the floor hugging and laughing with the children. Thus, within a few minutes the active ones are in our arms and laughing at the camera images when we show them their own photos and those of the other children. There are several in cribs with severe disabilities who we don’t quite know how to approach – immediately to our left is a hydrocephalic girl who is crying and whose face appears to be in a permanent “scream.” I’m not sure what is the culturally appropriate reaction – but Aly jumps in to comfort the child and stroke her hair, so I take the arm of another similarly deformed child in another crib. It’s hard to know whether the 5 or 6 caregivers, all women but only half dressed as monks, consider us intruders or welcome partners. My conclusion is that the shyness and language barrier is the reason they hold back – since Mr. Chau is so effusive about us being there (as captured by his omnipresent camera-wielding assistant!)
The first room is the largest one we see – perhaps 15 x 20 and “self-sufficient” with a cooking stove, small washer and dryer, cribs for each child, and shelves with clothes and toys. Each room we visited thereafter had progressively older children. The children under 6 or 7 seemed to have a sufficient number of caregivers, but I’m not sure that was true for the older children. Every room had its own kitchen and cooked similar meals of rice, steamed vegetables and small amounts of meat – despite the fact that the monks are vegans. After the first room, we felt more and more comfortable with the children even though they were more severely handicapped – to the point that only the blind children could feed themselves. At the end of the afternoon, we had a long talk with Mr. Chau – he was so friendly and appreciative in inviting us to come back and spend the full day on Monday to: have a ceremony to accept our gift; give presents that he would prepare for all of the children; take us to another of his pagodas; visit the Pagoda’s farm where they raise vegetables and are interested in raising their own medicinal herbs, have lunch and dinner and stay for after dinner meditation with the monks. All in all, Mr. Chau was delightful and made us feel like honored guests – exuding the kind of delightful grace and energy that makes one feel content in his presence, even in the most foreign of surroundings.
It has been marvelous to have Philippe and his wife Xuan as our hosts - incredibly gracious -they have made us feel completely at home in their beautiful French-style "mansion" - 3 floors, 6 guest rooms on the 3rd floor with Phillipe's business office and their personal quarters on the second floor and the ground floor being the kitchen, open air (but covered dining room and 50 foot swimming pool that extends beyond the reach of the house). We have a "North American" Internet phone to call home and broadband Internet access plus a "family" to eat with an educate us about Vietnam and a wonderful Vietnamese cook who prepares amazing traditional Vietnamese rice, vegetable and chicken or fish (Talipia last night) dishes. Philippe and Xuan (and their 17-year old son Patrick) speak French as their first language, English as their second, and Xuan is fluent in Vietnamese so she acts as translator at the Orphanage. It's a beautiful and relaxing place to stay, surrounded by the teeming chaos of HCMC urban life.
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