8-23-09: The Last Day at Duoc Son Orphanage...

Pandoras' Box was unleashed when they found out we were leaving...

Some of the students trying to bid farewell to us...

Some of my girls and I...notice their faces...

A sad and almost surreal day indeed...

Our last day at Duoc Son orphanage was on August 25^th, 2009. My emotions can only be described as numb; a feeling I rarely feel. I didn’t know what to think, the last five weeks passing us by faster than a speeding train. Angie and I decided to ride our motorbikes to the orphanage and take in what was to most likely be our last ride to Duoc Son orphanage for many years to come. The ride there was very sobering, the green hills to our left, and the rural communities to our left. We decided to leave later than we usually do, so very movie-like, the sun started to set as we arrived to Duoc Son. The mood was a very uplifting one; we were much more emotional than the kids were. I honestly wouldn’t expect anything else; these children have gone through things I could not even imagine, so naturally, they were much stronger than us during this tough time. We started handing out gifts while tears spilled from our eyes, all the while, the kids were smiling ensuring us that crying wouldn’t help the situation. We danced, cried, laughed, and shared stories of our lives, and as fast as we had arrived, it was over. We started to leave and the main nun bid us a final farewell saying in Vietnamese, “You promised these kids you would come back one day, do not make false promises, we expect you back one day.” And just like that, our time at Duoc Son was over.

Students in Vietnam are vastly different than those in the United States. The first thing I notice between education in our country and those in countries I have visited is that we generally take education for granted. How else can we explain the ranking of sixteen out of the top thirty-six highest GDP countries in secondary education (source: UPI)? How else can we explain the 75% high school graduation rate? This waning of our countries educational systems are far from what I saw in Vietnam. Students who could afford school wasted no time in trying to do the best they could. The students who could not afford school, as sad as it sounds, wished for a better life through school. Every student that I was able to ask about education reminded me of how fortunate they were and how hard they work at school.

-Live from Vietnam, Sonny

8-22-09: The lovely people at our hotel...

A short blog awaits you this time dear reader.

As time slowly takes away my time in Vietnam away, I find myself trying to soak in all of the ambiance that this country has to offer. Everywhere I look, exotic things to an American eye, seem to surround me. I miss home, but I know I will miss this place just as much when I leave here.

The employees at our hotel have made our trip to Vietnam so much more exciting. Everyday they cook us breakfast, clean our rooms & restrooms, greet us with smiles, and are very trustworthy. I know this because of through personal experience; one day I left a one-hundred dollar bill out on my desk for the day, and to my surprise, it was there when I got back. These workers only make about 70,000 dong a day, which translates to about $6 a day. They work hard trying to feed their families, pay for their education, and of course, pay their taxes. It puts my life in perspective when I know that I can afford a $1100 a month apartment, while these adults cannot afford a $2 dollar pizza for dinner.

We always buy the hotel employees things; dinner, clothes, toys for their kids, etc... They always are so grateful to us. I have grown to really appreciate these people, and at times, I am very attached to them. The funny thing is, as little as they know they make, they always seem grateful for everything that they recieve.

Short post...but meaningful...I hope...

Live from Vietnam, Sonny

8-20-09: Explanations...

I apologize for the long gap of time between my last post and this one. My time in Vietnam is almost over, and like I'm sure all of you would do, I'm trying to make the best out of my time here. This will be a very short post, but later today I plan on writing up 2 more to follow this one. Since my last entry, many things have happened; interviews, different foods, and great experiences. These will be outlined in my next post. Let me just say that this experience has bee utterly remarkable, and I'm so grateful for this oppurtunity. I do miss everyone, but these travels are things that I must experience to evolve into a better human. I know that because of these, I am a step closer to what I want to achieve in my life.

thanks for the read, I really appreciate all of you as friends and followers of my blog.

live from Viet Nam, Sonny

8-17-09: Goodbye Hanoi...

I don’t want my posts to seem contrived, because writing in a forceful matter takes away from the flow of a good piece. This is why I have been trying to switch up styles, and also posting every other day. Hopefully, they are still entertaining, informative, and are great reads…

Our last night in Hanoi was amazing. Knowing it would probably be my last time in Hanoi, Vietnam in probably many years, I talked in everyone to have a fun night. We decided to go out to bars and clubs that were recommended to me by our hotel receptionists, who happened to be very attractive young ladies. I noticed that every time I walked by, one of them was always smiling and looking at me as if she was very attracted to me. A man always knows when a woman is attracted to him, it's something about the look she gives you, it’s truly distinguishable from any other look on the planet, but I digress.

The bars we decided to attend for the night were called, “Cowboy Bar” (a bar/club hyprid that was a mimic of American cowboy saloons from eras past, that contained dim lights, scantily clad women in female cowboy garb, a stage in which these girls danced and sung old 80’s rock ballads, and female waitresses that were some of the most gorgeous Asian women I have ever seen) and “Dragonfly” (a bar/hookah lounge complete with almost no lighting, Aussie tourists, pool tables, good music, great bartenders, and hookah). Our first stop of the night was the Cowboy Bar. We arrived all dressed for the occasion, ready to drink the night away. It must be noted, though, that we were al very tired from all of the exploring we had done during that day. The guys’ and I immediately noticed that hostesses selling their expensive bottles of liquor for the “VIP” service surrounding us, ready to make commission off of our “rich” American wallets. They sat us, and quickly flirted asking us to buy them drinks; seems like the Las Vegas way of doing things have reached Hanoi.

Honestly, the women singing on stage (as well as the drummer) made me want to stay. I felt like I was in an old school Quentin Tarantino flick; Guns ‘N Roses being played by a Vietnamese band, barely speaking the English correctly but the voices of the singers clearly outweighing the negative aspects of the incorrect English, waiting for some eerie thing to happen. It did not.

Some of the girls in our group, in my opinion, were very uncomfortable. This uneasiness, I think, can be attributed to two reasons; one, I think they really didn’t like the fact that there were beautiful girls all around the guys getting all of our attention, and two, I don’t think they dug the place. To be honest, I loved it, but I understand why the girls didn't; the drinks were outrageously expensive. After finding this out, sadly, the girls made the decision for our group to leave. While we were playing the tab, one of the waitresses told me how frustrating it was for us to leave after only one drink and asked me to say, I told her I couldn’t, smiled, and left with the group.

Dragonfly was a place that reminded me of almost any bar in Mexico; almost no light, cheap drinks, good vibes, and great music. Artwork of very gnarly pictures of Che, Marilyn Monroe, and Jimi Hendrix were painted on the walls. “Billy Jean” by, Michael Jackson playing in the background, our group went our separate ways in the bar; half of us going to the 3rd floor hookah lounge, while the other half taking a seat at the bar stools. The waiter, speaking marginally good English asked, “What you drink?” Knowing what he meant, we ordered some local beer on tap. Vietnamese beer is surprisingly good by the way; light, tasteful, and containing a high alcohol content. The four of us, the other part of our group joining the rest to smoke hookah, started talking with the locals. We drank, talked about sports, and traded our opinions of what it was like growing up in the areas we were raised in. The night quickly turned into drunkenness and laughter. Charles and I, being relatively drunk, met some Japanese people that came in and sat next to us. One of them worked in Vietnam for the past year, while the other was just visiting her. They barely spoke English, but since Charles was raised in Okinawa he broke the ice by asking them what there names were; Watanabe and Doro from Kyoto, Japan. I must say, our charm quickly made them huge fans of us. I quickly thought to myself, “I can’t believe I’m gaming up a girl from Japan, maybe I can get her home with me tonight!” As ghastly as that may sound to some of you, my only excuse is, hey, I’m a guy, can you blame me?

To my dismay, though, after talking for what seemed like eternity, they asked us our age. I don’t know if you’ve ever met female Japanese natives, but they look very young. Because of this, Charles and I felt no need to lie about our age (because if we knew they were older, we would surely increase our age to meet the ones of our Japanese friends). We told them that we were 23, and as sure as the night arrives every day, they turned out to be 28 and 27. When they found out our age, the palpability of the disappointment in their voice was clearly evident, saying, “Aww, so young!” Quickly after this, they bid farewell to us, and Charles and I were only left with each others accompaniment.

After dancing, much more drinking, and getting our asses handed to us in pool by some local Vietnamese guys that vaguely reminded me of Japanese Yakuza members, we stumbled out of the bar drunk. There were five of us; Charles, Dennis, Tom, Albert, and Chris, the girls leaving by way of taxi many hours ago. Being drunk, we decided to try and find some late night Vietnamese food to feed our hunger. Motorcycle lights, people, and vendors that lined the streets prior to our going into the bar, now were gone; the city was as quiet as a library. Our voices could be heard echoing off of the buildings from blocks onwards. As we walked down the eerily quiet streets, a man on a bike asked us if wanted to buy marijuana or opium; how convenient. After our initial shock, we happily declined his offer. Later, we happily stumbled across a small restaurant of humble means, with only 2 other people eating on the corner of the small place. We ordered “Com Bo,” or rice with beef.

It has to be noted that because Charles ate pork, instead of the beef, he got food poisoned. Turns out, we (only Charles) are not immune to the dreaded travelers’ diarrhea.

Great night…Beautiful people…Good times…


Live from Vietnam, Sonny

8-16-09: Hanoi...The Capital City...

Plane rides always scare me. Ever since I could remember, I couldn’t bare the thought of riding planes. Now here I am, many years later at the age of 23, and still frightened by the thoughts of flying. Something about the thought of free-falling your way from 30,000 feet in the air onto the ground, people screaming the whole way down, women hugging their children, men making last phone calls to their loved ones, the oxygen masks deploying, and the loud scream of the engine always plays in my head so vividly when I prepare myself for flying. When I fly alone the vivid imagery is so much more intense, when I fly with friends or people I know it’s not as bad. Which is why our group flight to Hanoi this weekend was actually more enjoyable than it was terrifying, although I must admit that the pre-flight shenanigans were rather terrifying to say the least…

We landed in Hanoi at around 11am and got out to air so thick that it felt like someone tossed a brick at my face. For some reason my body can’t seem to get comfortable in super humid weather, so naturally, I started sweating profusely. Hanoi, unlike Hue, is much more of an American city. The hustle, bustle, honking, yelling, and all the noises you would expect at a city await you in Hanoi. I am keen to compare this city to New York City and Chicago; very loud and crowded. But unlike those cities, there is a sense of charm that an American city cannot achieve. Street vendors selling Vietnamese delicacies lined the streets at every corner. Every shop contained numerous knock-off products that could just as easily pass at the real ones, some not so much as others. The smell of the city was something I’ve never experienced before; the smell of delicious food and the local river mixed to make a splendid aroma.

As a group, we were required to do some sight-seeing of the city. Hanoi, being a city with a vast and diverse history, has many things to see. The Ho Chi Minh memorial made in conjunction with the Russian Communists, the single pillar pagoda, the temples, and many more things bring a steady amount of tourism in everyday for Hanoi. The first thing on our agenda, though, was to see the Ho Chi Minh memorial.

Ho Chi Minh died in 1965, due to the war his body was sent to Moscow to be held until the war was over 2 years later. When he was brought back, the Russian Communists had a say in the form he was buried (Ho Chi Minh wished to be cremated and spread all over Vietnam). The Communist Party got there way, and he was enshrined instead of being cremated.

We got to his memorial at about 2pm; one of the hottest days in Vietnam awaited me. Due to this, I sweat so much that my shirt was literally all wet. The memorial was a very somber, sometimes bland, memorial that was in stark contrast to the Vietnamese influenced housing and the French influenced government buildings. A large, gray, pantheon style memorial complete with pillars, Ho Chi Minhs’ memorial was one that made me realize how the Vietnamese saw this man. When an important political figure dies in the States, he gets his minutes of fame, and then fades into obscurity (for the most part). The Vietnamese show a tremendous pride in their leaders, in particular, Ho Chi Minh. He is seen as a savior of sorts, and is memorial is one that constantly reminds you of that. First, you are not allowed to bring cameras, cell phones, backpacks, or even umbrellas into his memorial. Laughter, smiling, and loud talking are also strictly prohibited. Guards in all white uniforms secure the whole premises of the memorial, and they also double by enforcing all of the rules. The scorching sun made the rules for no umbrellas to be very difficult to follow.

After a line that can be compared to the Disneyland, “Space Mountain” lines, we finally got to the entrance of the memorial. We entered by way of red carpet, into a building in which air condition provided us with a much needed freshness of cold air. The building was entirely lack of any furniture, marble floors and walls, and seemingly never-ending steps that led to the top of this giant memorial. As we walked solemnly through the line, it became evident that the rules for “no laughing and talking” were strictly enforced. Charley and I made a joke about the cameras being blatantly obvious like the episode of The Simpsons in which Bart accuses the hotel room of having cameras in his room, then a large camera bursts out stating, “There are no cameras in this room, go back to sleep.” This joke made us laugh hysterically, and as fast as the wink of an eye, a guard in white garb pointed at us and yelled, “No Laugh!”

We finally got into the actual room in which Ho Chi Minh was put to rest in his final place; the room dimly lit with a red hue, Ho Chi Minh placed in the center placed in a bulletproof glass encasing, and four guards on each side of his glass casket. I must say that many Vietnamese (even some of my classmates) people were awestruck by the scene, some people oozing with emotions that only sadness and admiration could bring about. I, on the other hand, felt a sense of eerie shrillness. I couldn’t help compare it to the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland, everything just felt so surreal, like we were placed onto a ride. In no way am I disrespecting a prolific mans’ final resting place, but I have to be truthful in saying that I felt more of a need to be creeped out than I felt an urge to pay respect at the display. Nonetheless, a truly remarkable memorial that truly exceeds any memorial we have in the States.

We left the memorial sweaty and bewildered. It began to pour rain, thus bringing us a much needed drenching of our bodies, although the humidity still made the air unbearably hot.

The Boss Hotel was our place of residence for the weekend. A very bourgeois hotel that was clearly influenced by New York and Los Angeles architecture, it made all of us feel like we were in the States and not in the humid weather of Vietnam. It was a nice place that made me feel like I was at home. After dropping of our baggage, our little clique decided to do some traveling of our own. The streets of Hanoi are lined with vendors. Anything your heart desires can be found there. Think of it as a wonder world for shoppers, everywhere you turn a chance at a rarity in price for a “needed” item of leisure can be found and haggled for. With these vendors, food sellers accompany them; delivering savory smells of delicious food across the city. In the center of Hanoi lies a large lake, which if not for its location in a developing nation, would be prime real estate in a developed nation. Lovers line this lake every night, bringing a very romantic view of the city. We shopped, ate, and explored the busy city.

After a day of traveling, we decided to get some rest, tomorrow brought us a day in which consisted of partying and exploring…

Live from Vietnam, Sonny

8-12-09: Interview Synopsis

This blog is intended for an assignment. It is informative reading, but very dull. It is a synopsis of an interview I was able to give to 3 Vietnamese students regarding the government, the culture, the class system, social norms, and other things. If youre interested, it is rather long. Again, the purpose is for an assignment and a synopsis for my doc. Thanks.

My interview was more of an informal type interview that Charles, Dennis, and I had over lunch with 3 of our Vietnamese student counterparts. The kindness of the Vietnamese students allowed us to record and video the interesting interview they gave about Vietnamese culture, education, and food. The students names were; Hieu, Chau (a female), and Binh. My interview questions focused more on the culture and everyday life of Vietnamese students and people, while Charles and Dennis focused more on cuisine and table etiquette. We all asked our own separate questions, but because the information was shared amongst each other, we all gained valuable knowledge from each others questions. Luckily, our interviewees were very open with the questions they answered and they did not hold back.

Culturally, the Vietnamese traditions are vastly different than ours in the States. First, as children (in Central Vietnam) they are taught to serve their parents first. After this, they all sit, and tell there parents, “Mom and dad, please eat.” Traditionally, Asian cultures are leaps and bounds more conservative than we are in the West, but knowing that the children are engraved with respect for their parents makes me realize why Asian families are so close, even in the States. This table etiquette usually transcends the dining table, but also in restaurants. Usually families eat out together about once a month, depending on the income of the family. A dinner can cost anywhere from 40,000 dong to 800,000 dong ($3- $60).

The tremendous sense of family togetherness that the Vietnamese have doesn’t only apply to the respect the children have for the parents, but vice versa. The parents, it seems, have a strong sense of pride and love for their children, especially those in college. The parents pay for primary education for their children, which is equivalent to grades K-6. For one year, the costs run about 700,000 (roughly $65) dong for a year of education. College, on the other hand, is a bit more expensive costing about $45 more per year. Another noteworthy comparison between our culture and Vietnamese culture is that college students almost never move out when they start college. This rarity only happens if the students have to move far for college or have a falling out with their parents. Students, if they decide to attend college, must attend a mandatory 5-week military training period. This training is only required for college girls, and all men.

Information sharing technology in Vietnam is also a blossoming new attraction to locals. The internet, PC cafes, and gaming have grown rampant all over Vietnam within the last 10 years. Prior to this, the internet was monitored by the government, but because of this slow procedure, the bandwidth speed was lackluster at best. This cause many citizens to become turned off from the internet, but as my student interviewee pointed out, the government had a change of heart. Because of this, the internet is minimally monitored, thus the internet speed has become faster. Due to this, many Vietnamese citizens can keep up with news from all over the globe. The influence that the internet has had on the Vietnamese citizens is unparallel. Chau used to live in the United States with her family, before moving back here after her parents visas expired, said that when she left Vietnam to go to the States there was almost no internet, when she returned they were everywhere.

As the interview went on, we began to feel more comfortable with our questions we asked and the questions they answered. Because of this, we moved on to questions about the government and economics. Chau and Hieu informed us that majority of Vietnam were members of the poor class, next being the upper-class. They informed me that the middle class was almost non-existent. This could be due to numerous reasons; no minimum wage, not enough well paying jobs, difficult access to higher education, lack of accountability, etc. Also, they briefly mentioned that it was very difficult for someone that was a member of the lower-class to become a member of the upper-class because of how hard it would be for them to get a job with a high salary. Because of this, I asked her if (in her opinion) would be better to be a smart Vietnamese student with a college education from the poor class or a dumb person with many connections in the upper-class, she immediately told me the latter far outweighed the former.

Unlike the United States, governmental positions in Vietnam are relatively low paying. According to our interviewees, the government has many different fields for positions i.e. Department of Agriculture, Department of Transportation, Department of Trade, etc. Because of the plethora of positions available, it is relatively easy to have a career in the government, but it also causes for lower wages. Police officers are also relatively low-paid, and require a separate collegiate education that can be compared to our police academies in the States.

In Hue, the people are culturally influenced by the East (China) and socially influenced by the West (United States). The students informed me that Western society has influenced their pop music, their dress, and their media. The Eastern society, though, plays a huge role in the cultural and traditional aspect of the Vietnamese people. Also, it is worth noting that the parents are more Eastern while the youth are more Western. The dress, although influenced by the West, is very conservative. Usually, for women, no shorts skirts or shorts are seen as normal, and are often frowned upon. Men get a more lenient social pass, but usually are dressed in pants and button-up shirts. Women who go out in public dressed inappropriately don’t only reflect badly on themselves, but also on their families. This is because the community aspect in Vietnam is huge. Chau gave me a great parable; while she was living in the United States her parent let her dress however she wanted, but as soon as they moved back to Vietnam they made her dress conservatively. This is due to the community aspect, and how the community in Vietnam plays a huge role in social norms. In her own words, “What happens in a small part of Hue, is known throughout the whole city.”

According to Chau, the homosexual culture is non-existent. Usually, students who are gay/lesbian/bisexual keep it to themselves, and don’t release that information to their parents until necessary. Homosexual people are not necessarily frowned upon, but the culture in Vietnamese society is not ready for that sort of thing, according to Chau.

The last thing we talked about was the “American Shock Factor,” or if people are in awe of American tourists when we arrive in Vietnam. I asked this question because when I went to Bangladesh, many people who stare at me in awe. In Vietnam, it was far less a case than in Bangladesh. According to Chau, people were in awe of Americans in the past, but because of the rampant tourism brought in from the States people are not in awe as they once were.

Live from Vietnam, Sonny

8-10-09 and 8-11-09: For the Sake of Brevity...

Professor Biggs' daughter, Xu Ang, and myself at the tomb of Ming Mangh...
Making our wishes with the candlelit paper boats along the river...
Our wishes coasting down the river...

Todays blog consists of two different days and nights (Yesterday, August 10 and Today, August 11^th) , for the sake of brevity.

August 10^th consisted of more rain, but by midday, the storm clouds cleared up. The day consisted of a day trip to the tomb of the second emperor of Vietnam, Ming Mangh. According to historians, Ming Mangh had concubines that added up to more than 1500. That’s the life.

We arrived to the tomb at around noon, while it was still raining as hard as news footage of hurricanes. But the funny thing is, as we arrived their, the skies cleared up. This tomb was a very eloquent, and sometimes eccentric, tomb that was the size of a mall. Complete with; river delta, superannuated buildings, colorful pagodas, and vast vegetation as far as the eyes could see. The day, although raining just minutes before we arrived, was a very humid one. Maybe it was the trees, or maybe it’s just how Vietnam is, but humidity seems to follow you everywhere. We took pictures, cooled ourselves off with ice cream, and made jokes about the brothels that Ming Mangh procured as leader of Vietnam. We skipped stones along the river, ate exotic fruits, and hiked long trails. Innocent, nostalgic, gorgeous…

We left the tomb on a different vehicle than we arrived. Instead of leaving on a bus, in which we arrived on, we left on a dragon boat. We were told that the boat ride came accompanied with live music along the lighted river bank. Excited, the band boarded the bus dressed in traditional Vietnamese garb and carried with them traditional Vietnamese instruments. Songs were song, instruments were played. There was something about live, traditional, and lyric-less, music while the sun was setting along the backdrop of a riverbank that really pulled a string in my heart. I could see people driving by from where our boat was, like little glowing ants. Everything seemed so miniscule to me, all the while the female singers were singing in Vietnamese. Not a word sung was understood by me, but somehow I knew that she was singing about love. Her voice just exuded with that sort of thing. Before our time with this lovely band was over, they asked us to light candles on colorful mini-boats (about the size of apples) and make wishes as we set them free to the mouth of the river. As I looked across the boat in each of my compadres’ faces, I could tell that wishes were made from the heart. The boats floated away, along with our heartfelt wishes.

We ate dinner at a floating restaurant along the river. Not 100 yards away was the location of our wishes, floating down the Perfume River. Places like this, which I’ve been to in Orange County, usually cost an arm and a leg. Here, though, the priciest item was crab that went for about 5 dollars. Now, I understand that we have to pay extra for stuff in the States because we’re also paying for the venue, the waiters’ salary, and the extra cost to run stuff, but come on, a whole 50 dollars extra per plate? That is ridiculous.

Dinner was great. As usual, we drank, and lamented on the day that past us by so fast...

Today (August 11^th) was a day in which past by too fast. I woke up to the sounds of my air conditioning whirling to continue its frantic pace of keeping me cool during these humid days. The weather outside was grey, complete with a light pouring of rain on my window. In California, rainy days require winter-like clothing. Here, though, you can wear board shorts and a tee in the rain if you wanted. I decided to go with the latter and wear very light clothing. Class went by slow as usually, but the information shared to us was very enlightening.

We all got back to our hotel rooms at about noon. Our usual routine after class is lunch, exploring, then dinner. Today it seemed that the weather drained all of us. Knowing that some of us, including myself, had our responsibility to the orphanage today I decided to nap for 30 minutes. I don’t know what it was, but I turned on a little bit of Bob Marley (this and the rain mixed make a very stress-free atmosphere), and faded away...

I abruptly woke up to hard knocks on my door telling me that it was 3pm. 30 minutes had turned into 2 hours. I had overslept. Aside from this, it turned out that the torrential rains knocked out our electricity for the unforeseen future. The hotel employees were walking around with flashlights, filling in holes in the ceilings with bags, and handing out candles to each hotel room. Honestly, the rain made me drowsy and lethargic, so going to the orphanage was the last thing I wanted to do. But after thinking it through, I knew that I couldn’t flake on kids who needed people like me the most. I decided to go and not skip out on them.

At the orphanage we played hangman and practiced grammar. The kids are growing on us more and more as everyday passes. I’ve been working with kids, teaching and such, for the past 2 years, and for some reason these kids strike a different chord within me. Something about their innocence, some of them not knowing what a watch looks like, really ignites my spirit to teach. They need positive influences in their lives, and I’m glad I can be one of them. Nevertheless, the nun shared with us information that she hadn’t in the past. In turns out that some of these kids were lost children from the typhoon that struck Vietnam in the early 90’s. Most the children survived, but heartbreakingly, the parents did not. Now if you believe in a God or not, isn’t it miraculous that these children survived something that adults could not? Amazing…

Dinner was as eventful as ever. We decided to eat in the backpackers (travelers area) district to have dinner. We stayed clear of this place prior to tonight because of all the Europeans gathering around this area, over populating it, this making it less authentic. But honestly, it turned out to be a great place, full of lively restaurants and beautiful lighting. Dinner took place at a restaurant owned by an expat that settled in Hue after meeting a beautiful Viet woman. Although I didn’t meet the owner, it seemed as though he was a surfer because of the beach music playing the background and the Hawaiian décor on the walls. All-in-all, a great place, complete with awesome food...

We ended the night at a bar called “Brown Eyes,” probably named after the almond-shaped brown eyes the owner had. Beautiful. Something about a lively environment, along with beautiful girls alluring you in with fliers for free drinks that a man cannot decline. A lively place awaited us fresh with Frenchman and Aussies (always a good bunch to drink with). Black lights, fully stocked bar, modern art, and graffiti walls were what this bar offered, and we gladly accepted. Pictures of Che Guevarra, half-naked women, Marilyn Monroe, and Darwin-esque paintings were juxtaposed on the wall. The waitress offered us our drinks and offered me a guitar to play. As we drank, I tried to play tunes of The Beatles to no avail, the strings were rusted, and the guitar was out of tune. Regardless, we all enjoyed the night, laughing and drinking our worries away. Nonetheless, the bar is a place I will return to in the near future. The ambiance was too good for me not to do so and the cheap drinks were more than a plus. Perfect lighting, great drinks, and great people always add up to a great night, no matter what...

A beautiful night indeed…

Live from Vietnam, Sonny

8-8-09: Rain, Rain, Go Away...

I sit here in my hotel room quietly finding myself lost in thought. A badly Vietnamese dubbed form of “The Untouchables” plays on the television. A can of half-eaten Pringles lay next to me as I watch this American classic and sit here typing. It’s raining here in Vietnam for the first time I’ve been here. It doesn’t bring my mood down necessarily, but it definitely puts me in a different mindset. Lost in thought, I think of my friends back home. I think of my family, how they’re doing, and my newly born nephew. Has he grown since I’ve been gone for this long 2 weeks? I miss those things the most, and honestly, I don’t really miss much more. Travelling is something that most people know I love doing. I love documenting things going on in the world, to try and bring a different view to people that care to watch. Sometimes these documentations are about human rights, sometimes about new places, but they are all about changing preconceived views.

The rain here is only comparable to Hawaii in my personal experience. It rains for about 30 minutes, then stops. This cycle continues until the winds decide to blow the clouds away. When it rains here, the temperature doesn’t change. It’s still as hot and humid as the first day I got here; the Laker jersey stuck to my body whenever I walk outside like the cheese to bread in a grilled sandwich. I find this weird since the rain should keep me somewhat cooler. I guess not. I switch the channel; to my surprise the Loony Tunes are on. I hearken back to my youth, when all it took me was some ice cream and cartoons to make me genuinely happy. What happened to those days? What happened to the days when I could carry a fairly intelligible conversation with adults, while snot-boogers dripped from my nose? I miss those days. I want ice cream.

I want to do some more exploring, but the rains hold me prisoner. A prisoner to my room, a prisoner to my writing. I guess exploring will have to wait for another day. Productivity is the key to days like this. You have to keep yourself busy when time, the weather, or ailments hold you prisoner to a room. It is part of the human psyche; the need to feel important and needed.

I find myself sleeping, then waking up, every couple of hours. The rain working like a hypnotic trance machine; slowly drifting me away to sleep.

There was a gecko in here not too long ago; I’m scared to death of little creatures like that. I don’t know why, but they always did. The day goes by while I sit here wondering. Things go on around the whole world, while we sit and wonder. We are in a proverbial bubble, and these bubbles are located all over the world. You are your own bubble, and your surroundings befit it. Just remember that when you think you know what the world is about. Your left is someone else’s right. Your full stomach is someone else’s hunger. Your sadness is someone else’s happiness. And your hatred is someone else’s love.

There is a huge moat that surrounds the city we are located in. Or better yet, the city we are in is a mini-city within a larger city. Hue, Vietnam used to be the old capital of Vietnam, so the royal family built a huge castle (moat and defensive walls) to live in. The castle city was for royalty, the rest of the city was for the citizens. Now, the castle city is where many hotels and citizens reside. This is where I reside. As the rain drops into the moat, I wonder how old that water could be. Is it the same water from hundreds of years ago that the royal family dually used to drown their enemies and enjoy recreational swims?

These are my thoughts on this rainy day…

I apologize for these long, non-linear, ramblings; or perhaps this was a compromise between my thoughts and the Vietnamese weather? The weather locking me up in my room, permitting me to write…

If that is the case, I don’t apologize, but I thank you for reading…

-Live from Vietnam, Sonny

8-7-09: KARAOKE!!!

Some of the guys and myself...Don't mind the mess...

Instead of taking you through my whole day today, I just want to get to the good part of the story.

For the most part, today consisted of me doing some planning for the documentary and doing some assigned reading on Vietnamese history. Lunch consisted of a very tasty fried fish (I believe it was a Basa fish) lightly glazed with garlic butter, accompanied by sticky white rice and sautéed vegetables. The restaurant, called “Missy Roo” was an Aussie influenced Vietnamese restaurant. As my comrades and I ate, Michael Jackson playing in the background, we conversed about possibilities of for our late night outing with our Vietnamese counterparts. Earlier in the school/work week we planned a weekend outing for ourselves and our Vietnamese friends. Would it be a club night? Maybe a night of spirits and beer at a bar? A quiet formal dinner? Somehow, someway, karaoke was what we decided on…

As the girls dressed themselves up in gorgeous cocktail dresses, the guys dressed more casually, some of us in polo shirts, and some of us in cargo shirts and white tees. After squeezing eleven of us in a taxi-van, we arrived at our destination for the night. “Vy Da Xua” was the name of the venue; a garden setting, finely lit with a white light tint, riverside bar, and quiet music playing for the patrons. Luckily, as we were leaving, we had the chance to see a wedding just ending. To my surprise, though, it was not a traditional Vietnamese wedding like we were used to seeing up until that point. The bride and groom, as with most of the wedding party, were dressed in traditional western style wedding garb; the bride in the quintessential white dress.

Some of the Vietnamese students...

...and of course, our group doing our best to compete.

We were lead to the third story of the restaurant into our own private karaoke room. Drinks were ordered and before we knew it the songs began to be sung. Disney songs, 80’s music, Vietnamese songs, and love ballads were all being bellowed out by us; some of us butchering the songs, and some of us doing quite well. As each song passed, the drinks kept flowing. The epitome of libation. Many of us became intoxicated beyond belief, while others were able to maintain self control. Soon, though, a bottle of “Ming Mangh” was ordered. For a cheap $11, Ming Mangh is a Vietnamese liquor that came in a giant bottle and had a taste that could be best described as a hint of almond with a kick to the face. Disgusting, but it did the trick. Before we knew it, the usually shy people sang, and the people who sang, sang louder. All of our previous inhibitions were out of the window, as liquor usually does to all who partake in it. As the night came to an end, in our drunken thoughts, we thought it would be a great idea to sing "We are the World" by, Michael Jackson. Together with out Vietnamese friends, we sang are E-class celebrity studded version of this 80's classic. Albeit very cheesy, it reminded me of what Michael Jackson tried to do when he wrote this song, unite link-minded individuals all over the world to help those less fortunate. It seemed that as I looked around, many of the singers accompanying me thought the same thing. Cheesy yet thoughtful. The night ended with one of our members paying for the bill, which caught us all by surprise.

In our American drunken stupor, we decided that it would be a great idea to try and see if KFC was still open. You see, everything in Vietnam closes at around 8pm, and if you’re lucky, some places stay open until 10pm. It was 11:30pm when we embarked on our mission. Suffice to say, we failed at our attempt for munchies.

Good times though…singing and dancing in the moonlight…

-Live from Vietnam, Sonny

8-6-09: The Media in Vietnam

Todays blog is more of an informative, factual based, blog as opposed to my usual emotion-based writing. This is due to 2 reasons; one being it is required for an assignment and the other being I want to share with you the everyday influence the media may have on the Vietnamese people in everyday life. So before I go into the blog, I just want to explain that this blog is about the media and they go hand-in-hand with spreading the government agenda here in Vietnam.

A brief disclaimer: I’m not writing this to pass judgment on any political system, nor am I deciding which way to run a country is better than others. This blog is merely for informative reading, and more importantly, for assignment purposes.

The Socialist Republic of Vietnam is a single-party state in which the Communist Party is the sole party able to run for government positions. Because of this, there are many restrictions on the media and forms of media in Vietnam. For instance, the other day on the television I noticed that the news in Vietnam (although I don’t speak or understand in very well) is far from what we are used to in the United States. The news anchors focus more on stories within Vietnam as opposed to foreign news. One story portrayed the story of a little girl who was obese and her parents being unhappy with her obesity. They sent her to a “fat camp” to lose weight, in which she failed to progress in her weight loss goals. All of this while on CNN.com there was news of bombings in Iran, Russian subs on the coast of the States, and the death of John Hughes. I wasn’t sure if this news went unreported because of disinterest amongst the Vietnamese people, or because they weren’t allowed to.

I asked one of the students here in Vietnam, who spoke a good amount of English, about what they thought of this. I must say, though, that before I asked him this I had to explain to him how our media in the States was given to us. He seemed shocked. This is because, he explained, and that in Vietnam most stories that had to do with foreign policy of international relations were taboo. He also mentioned that for the most part, citizens in Vietnam really didn’t care too much about it. He explained that people in Vietnam were more into family dealings, work, and appreciating life then they were about all of the aforementioned things. It caused me to think, is this something that has been instilled in them through the government, or is it something that is truly part of the Vietnamese culture/life. Are these people really into the “simplicities,” or are these “simplicities” something that have been imposed onto them by the media. I prefer to believe that they really are just simple people, appreciating life. People here just rather worry about things that they can effect personally, as opposed to talking about things (like politics) that, to them, aren’t worth the time.

"Mau Den" translates to "In Black"

Although I do know that the media does influence people in Vietnam in a different way, a way that is similar to how the media influences us in the States. In the States, the media dictates our dress, our talk, what we drive, what we eat, and where we live amongst other things. We are heavily influenced by the media in that aspect. In Vietnam, it is not as big a factor, but it is still evident. Westernization is surely evident in the commercials I saw. One of them was about the latest Honda “Shark.” A new model moped made by Honda, bolstering “smooth rides,” “faster speed,” and “great looks.” All with a guy sitting on his new “Shark,” chrome rims, glossy black paint, beautiful girl and all. Bad grammar aside, the commercial hit the point; buy our new model moped, be cooler. That, in itself, was very similar to American advertising; brainwashing the consumer into thinking that somehow they will be a better person by purchasing their product. It seemed like everyone here owned a Honda.

A billboard in Hue depicting Ho Chi Minh and the communist symbol, the Hammer & Sickle

In a nearby village, a billboard mentioning the 40 years of the Communist Party.

A billboard asking for charity from the workers to help build in a rural area.

Another example of the media influencing the Vietnamese people are billboards strategically placed around the city areas jointly paid for by the government and local media outlets. These billboards offer reminders to all who see them that the government is good, Ho Chi Minh was great, and that Vietnam is a great place. They remind people that nationalism is the best way to make Vietnam great. I don’t know if the purpose of these billboards are for publicity, or if they serve as a constant reminder that communism is better than democracy to the Vietnamese people. Again, it is up to each person to decide. But surely, the billboards effect everyone in the city because they are so robust. Perhaps they affect them in a way that supports their leaders, or maybe they affect them differently. I don’t know.

As for me, I’m not sure exactly how I feel about the Vietnamese media. I know that they are trying rapidly to be more American (American shows flood the airwaves). I also know that they hold true to their tradition by being very humble and subdued. As for the government censorship, I am a person who believes everyone should be able to do what they want barring any negative effects on society. But this has to be a internal goal, and one that must be evolved into. It can’t be something that is forced into, or be forced into. A nations soveriegnty, especially that of a thriving and cultrally diverse country like Vietnam, must be respected.

The media surely is censored here, and the people are often given ideas about their government as opposed to them formulating their own ideas. All of this aside, Vietnam is a beautiful place, with very humble people. Maybe because of this, the media and government aren’t much of a matter to the people, they much rather just be happy…

Live from Vietnam, Sonny

8-5-09: Memorable, to say the least...

"I couldn't tell where the sky stopped and the ocean began..."

Have you ever watched the movie “Forrest Gump?” If you haven’t, have you been living under a rock for the past 15 years? For those of you that have, you’ll get my reference. Remember the scene in which Forrest finally meets up with his love Jenny after his time in the military? They talk, and she asks Forrest, “Were you scared in Vietnam?” This is when (which happens to me one of my most memorable scenes in the movie) the movie goes into a flashback, while Forrest explains to her all of the places that he has been, looking up in all of the different skies, and all the while, she was there with him. He explains it best, “Yes. Well, I-I don't know. Sometimes it would stop raining long enough for the stars to come out... and then it was nice. It was like just before the sun goes to bed down on the bayou. There was always a million sparkles on the water... like that mountain lake. It was so clear, Jenny, it looked like there were two skies one on top of the other. And then in the desert, when the sun comes up, I couldn't tell where heaven stopped and the earth began. It's so beautiful.”

This is how I felt today.

You see, I’ve had the most fortunate opportunities in my life to travel to many places; England, Hawaii, Thailand, Bangladesh, India, Mexico, and many countries in Europe. Now, I’ve been granted to chance to be here in Vietnam. I bring this up because whenever I travel to places, I love to compare the sites with previous places I’ve been to. More importantly, I love to compare the skies. Hence the aforementioned “Forrest Gump” reference. Today, we went fishing with some local sicklo (Vietnamese bicycle taxis) drivers to the outer-most villages in Vietnam. As we were driving, we had the chance to witness some of the most beautiful visual scenery that I have ever seen. Colors that only nature could create, some of the greenest trees and grass, herds of baby buffalo, endless rice fields, and a sky that contained every color imaginable. Words could only say so much. As we were riding, I found myself lost in my own world of thought. I found myself comparing the brightly lit Parisian sky to the dimly lit university towns of Belgium. I found myself comparing the tropical breezes of Hawaii to the gusty winds of the mountains in Thailand. Then I found myself losing myself in the beauty that was, what seemed like, within arms reach. The Vietnamese sky had no comparison. This is because the sky that I saw not only carried visual allure, but it also carried with it something I have never witnessed before. It was literally as if someone painted this sky. Stunning…

We encountered many different villagers along are drive to the fishing spot. Many of them doing what they do everyday, working. Every now and then, though, I spotted one of the villagers doing what I caught myself doing every so often, watching the beauty that surrounded us.

We soon arrived at the fishing spot with our new driver friends. The fishing village was a quaint little place that was very charming. Little huts that you could rent out were placed alongside this lagoon in which your fishing took places. Tired, hungry, and thirsty we were given a hut that had electricity for an electronic fan. I found that to be very amusing because we were in the middle of a fishing village, yet they found a way to bring us the amenities we were used to. The most astonishing thing to me was the fishing rod we were given. I was expecting to use the rods we see on T.V. with the fancy reel and bate. The fishing rods we were given were bamboo sticks that were carved to feel like rods and little sun-dried shrimp for bate. Honestly, I much rather have used the rods we were given instead of the rods we are used to, it just gives for a more authentic feel. I felt like we were in a movie. After we started fishing, we talked to our drivers. Luckily 2 of our students in the group speak fluent Viet, so we used them as translators. We talked to them about their lives, their experiences and we were happy to share the same information with them. I found out that they usually work 12 hour days riding people around in their hybrid bike-taxi, making roughly 5 dollars a day. And that’s if they get customers. If they don’t, then they make no money at all. All of this while having to support a family. Could you imagine these kinds of working conditions in the States? We have people suing their employers for not getting their 15 minute breaks on time and these people are doing jobs that are unimaginable for almost nothing. I’m not saying feel sorry for them, just be grateful every now-and-then for what you have.

The sicklo drivers loved us, and they explained to us that we were the first foreigners they have befriended. They appreciated the fact that we wanted to hear their stories. To say the least, we caught no fish, or better yet, no fish that were worth trying to eat. Because of this, we soon found ourselves being invited to dinner at one of the drivers’ homes. We gladly obliged.

The drivers home was a cozy little place that had a piece of metal sheet as the door. No knob, just a door that slid up. His house was about the size of a medium sized hotel room complete with; a small wooden table that doubled as a bed when not being used to eat, a huge and elaborate Buddhist shrine, old frameless pictures of family members on the wall, a bluish paint that was starting to fade, and a small nook in the corner where I guessed him and his wife slept. The kids, it turned out, stayed in a nearby village with their grandparents during the week because of the long hours him and his wife work. That night, his wife was working late, so she wasn’t able to greet us either. Nonetheless, he brought us out food that his wife cooked for him to eat when he got home. The Vietnamese hospitality struck my comrades and I again, this time it was the driver sharing his food with us that was especially made for him. Bean sprouts, savory tofu, sticky white rice, hot chili soy sauce, and numerous fruits were on the menu for the night. And as simple as this menu sounds, the food was more than delicious. You could taste the love that was put into every meal, as if the wife was sending a message to him embedded in the cooking, “Hello dear, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for dinner tonight, I hope you enjoy the meal, I love you.”

After taking many pictures with our new friend, we found ourselves ready to leave. We bid farewell, and with that, to a day of memorable experiences.

And just like Forrest said to Jenny when she told him that she wished she was there with him to experience the things he did while he traveled, I say to you when you wish you were here with me, “You were there with me for all of it.”

Beautiful, exotic, artful...

Live from Vietnam, Sonny

8-3-09: Orphanage, Lunch, Never Ending Dinner...

GOOOD MORNINGGG VIIIEETNAAAAMMMM,

I’ve been waiting to write a morning blog so I could use that famous Robin Williams quote from the identically named movie, I am now fulfilled.

Last night was a long day of hard work consisting of; waking up to what seemed to millions of mosquito bites along my leg (like bumps on a basketball), traversing a 20 minute drive to find a Vietnamese dish recommended by Anthony Bourdain called “Banh Mi,” and a cooking class that turned into a marathon of food eating. In retrospect, the day wasn’t so much as “hard work,” as it there is trying to find an incorrect brush stroke in the “Mona Lisa.” The day was another day in paradise. It started off with me having to go to the nearest market to find mosquito coils to get rid of the steady flow of never ending mosquitoes that have established a community in my room. The coils I purchased, though, soon ended that.

After class (for those of you who don’t know, I’m taking a Vietnamese history class and language class every morning from 8am to 11am) a group of us decided to get lunch. Being a huge Anthony Bourdain fan, I excitedly volunteered our group to try a Vietnamese sandwich called, “Banh Mi.” These sandwiches can be compared to American sub sandwiches…only they are much better. These sandwiches can be topped with numerous items; fried eggs, pâté, beef, liver, pork, chicken, pickled veggies, and even rice. The most remarkable things about these sandwiches are the costs; one sandwich is 8000 dong, or about $.45. The taste of the sandwich was incredible. Crisp, zesty, delicious. I could eat these for the rest of my time here, and I probably surely will.

After lunch, we were on our way to the orphanage. The orphanage, called “Chuoc Duc Son.” I’m not sure what that translates to in English, but I will get that to you as soon as I can get that information. Sadly, I found out that I was not going to be working with the 5-10 year old group because they were seriously lacking any previous English knowledge. The nun explained that it would be difficult to teach English to these children if I didn’t speak Vietnamese fluently. I understood that it would be utterly impossible to truly communicate with these kids with such a language barrier. Happily, though, the nun told me that I would have a class which consisted of 13-15 year old kids. I was very comfortable with this because of my previous teaching experience teaching children with Think Together. The kids were utterly beautiful; genuinely happy, energetic, and the thirst for knowledge could be seen through their innocent eyes. Although the English they spoke was basic, communication with them wasn’t as hard as I though. We read books, tested grammar, and practiced annunciation. Life-changing is what comes to mind whenever I think of this great opportunity I was given. Helping these children is something that genuinely makes me happy. As soon as the teaching expedition started, it was over. We left the kids on our mopeds, and they chased us until we were outside of their allowed boundary.

Dinner was a marathon, having to struggle to keep up with the never ending course of meals that the wiaters kept delivering. Two of our group members, instead of working at the orphanage, are taking on cooking internships. Because of this, we were allowed to come to the kitchen they were working at and try out some of the food they made. As we dined with our classmates, we soon discovered that the owner of the restaurant arranged a patio setting table for us. Beautiful garden scenes, along with a lily pad covered creek, were at our table side. Gorgeous. As soon as we sat, the food was brought out. Tofu filled spring rolls were the first course of the menu. We were content in knowing that our taste test only consisted of this, because it was beyond delicious. We couldn’t have been more wrong. Course after course came along, filling our bellies with; spring rolls, banana-leaf wrapped rice, steamed fish, salad, and desert. It was as if we were being tortured to eat ourselves to death with heavenly food. As soon as the night began, it was over. Shockingly, the bill was handed to us and it only cost us the drinks we ordered for the great meal we had. They didn’t charge us at all for the multiple course meal they had jut arranged for us. The Vietnamese hospitality and generosity struck me again. It is remarkable to know that in a country, which is still considered developing and consists of a lower than average G.D.P, that the people in the country are still so generous.

Great day, beautiful night...

- Live from Vietnam, Sonny