I barely left the house today, day 2 of the Holiday, but it was sweet anyhow, and it offered a chance to get to know Lan Anh's family better. I'm particularly intrigued with her mom, a handsome, gracious woman of 55 who has seemed delighted to have me as her guest. She loves her grandson, and who wouldn't? What a precocious little dude, extremely verbal and lovable, totally at home with adults, he has the run of the place and is adored by everyone.
Mom's name is Mui, and there was a moment in between the stream of visitors when I got to ask her some questions with Lan Anh translating. One of the main ones I was curious about was the fact that her daughter credited her mom for being a major impetus for her success in the world. In this culture, a disabled woman is usually relegated to a life at home, no marriage, few prospects, but this woman is the opposite of that. When I asked Mui about her role in her daughter's success, she thought for a moment and then came out with a lovely poetic image which guided her.
She talked about her children being like little trees that needed roots, nourishment, and love to produce the blossoms. She saw all of her children that way, and she did all that she could to give Lan anh and all of them the kind of strength and care that would produce a good crop. Of course she is very proud of her daughter, and with good reason. She is the head of a consortium of 200 different groups working with the disabled in Vietnam. LA started our as a staff memeber for the organization and worked her way to the top spot. Now any time there is a 'disabled rights' day, she's the one who is on TV, making a statement, advocating for improvements etc.
Likewise, her marriage to Sinh (pronounced 'sing') was big news. Their love story also made the newspapers and TV, as it was exceedingly rare for a disabled woman to marry an able bodied man. She told me that she had a boyfriend in her early twenties who wanted to marry her, but his parents intervened and wouldn't allow it. Similarly, Sinh's parents were against it, and it took a year for them to relent and see the determination in their son that this is the woman. Now of course, they are delighted in the choice their son made, and are ecstatic to have this grandson too.
Before I arrived, I was concerned that maybe Sinh would be thinking, 'who is this dude coming to hang out with my wife?' I didn't know anything about him, and vice versa, and who knows how things happen sometime? I couldn't have been more wrong. He is a total prince, kind, a great dad, a great cook, loves his family, dotes on his mother in law and is incredibly generous and friendly to me. He can't do enough for me, refuses to let me help with the dishes, is quick with a smile, a hand on my shoulder, he is something very special. Wow!, yet again.
This is my last night here; tomorrow we have a lunch with her uncle, the policeman, and from there I'll hop on a bus into Hanoi, arriving in the late afternoon. the family is worried about me, 'watch out for the people who try to take you to a certain guest house', 'get a taxi right away to the old quarter, where the tourists hang out', 'keep track of your backpack and wallet', all of those warnings. I'm not concerned about it, but I appreciate their advice and care.
I wanted to share my new year song with them, as it is a permanent memory of the time I spent here with them, so after dinner, Lan Anh translated the words and then I shared the song. They loved it and were very proud that Song Cong will get to be shared with my people back home. Her brother in law rolled some video as I sang, and it was just a great moment.... as was this whole unforgettable Tet Holiday. This will be with me forever, and I'm sure that they'll remember the Tet with the American guitar player too...
Happy New Year song
Well it wasn't my intention to write a song today, it just kinda happened. We hung around here til the afternoon, greeting a stream of guests, most of whom stayed 5 minutes or less, made a toast, shook hands and then out the door to the next place. I did an imitation, which got a laugh, come in, sit down raise a glass and say goodbye. Hello Goodbye, yeah, I thought of the Beatles tune.
By the time 3pm rolled around, I was feeling lazy, kinda sugared up, a couple of beers in me, not a lot of energy, but the moment presented itself and i grabbed my guitar and headed for the river. I went back to my spot under the bamboo grove, strummed a little bit, revisited a couple of musical ideas but had basically nothing going. Oh well, no big deal, you can't hit it every day.
So I put the guitar back in it's carrying backpack, and figured if I did some walking, maybe something would shake loose in the exertion, so I hit the road, waving at those who waved to me, smiling for everyone, getting some energy going. It was late afternoon by this point, a quiet day as no one was working, and the only folks out were riding their motorcycles or bikes, often with a passenger on the back. Everyone was pretty interested in the giant gringo carrying the guitar and I got many 'Hello's' and 'Happy New Years' and many smiles.
I crossed a different bridge back across the river, so now I had to navigate my way back to the place I knew, and I chose a dirt road that looked like it was going the right way. There were people out, parents and kids, many smiles, and something started welling up in me, the more smiles and 'happy new years' I heard and said. It was just so sweet, and it started getting emotional, I was almost crying every time I said it. Every once in a while there'd be a stone faced guy riding past, but the vast majority of folks were super warm and open and interested.
I got the instinct to try and capture that feeling in a Happy New Year song, a late afternoon reverie. Some musical idea popped into my head and I ended up finding a park to sit in, then pulling out my guitar and working out a real folkie thing, the kind of pregression I'd have used twenty years ago, not a diminished chord in sight. Here's the first draft, and it's in the key of D, (the people's key)
Walking through the quiet town
The sun was slowly sinking down
I felt the kindness all around
Have a happy new year
A man comes up to shake my hand
Says words i can not understand
But the thought's the same in every land
Have a happy new year
I've been around this big old world
And I've learned a thing or two
If you fill your heart with love
It all comes back to you
Leave the angry thoughts behind
Let gratefulness fill your mind
Soon contentment you will find
Have a happy new year Have a happy new year
Happy new year, everybody.... rich
By the time 3pm rolled around, I was feeling lazy, kinda sugared up, a couple of beers in me, not a lot of energy, but the moment presented itself and i grabbed my guitar and headed for the river. I went back to my spot under the bamboo grove, strummed a little bit, revisited a couple of musical ideas but had basically nothing going. Oh well, no big deal, you can't hit it every day.
So I put the guitar back in it's carrying backpack, and figured if I did some walking, maybe something would shake loose in the exertion, so I hit the road, waving at those who waved to me, smiling for everyone, getting some energy going. It was late afternoon by this point, a quiet day as no one was working, and the only folks out were riding their motorcycles or bikes, often with a passenger on the back. Everyone was pretty interested in the giant gringo carrying the guitar and I got many 'Hello's' and 'Happy New Years' and many smiles.
I crossed a different bridge back across the river, so now I had to navigate my way back to the place I knew, and I chose a dirt road that looked like it was going the right way. There were people out, parents and kids, many smiles, and something started welling up in me, the more smiles and 'happy new years' I heard and said. It was just so sweet, and it started getting emotional, I was almost crying every time I said it. Every once in a while there'd be a stone faced guy riding past, but the vast majority of folks were super warm and open and interested.
I got the instinct to try and capture that feeling in a Happy New Year song, a late afternoon reverie. Some musical idea popped into my head and I ended up finding a park to sit in, then pulling out my guitar and working out a real folkie thing, the kind of pregression I'd have used twenty years ago, not a diminished chord in sight. Here's the first draft, and it's in the key of D, (the people's key)
Walking through the quiet town
The sun was slowly sinking down
I felt the kindness all around
Have a happy new year
A man comes up to shake my hand
Says words i can not understand
But the thought's the same in every land
Have a happy new year
I've been around this big old world
And I've learned a thing or two
If you fill your heart with love
It all comes back to you
Leave the angry thoughts behind
Let gratefulness fill your mind
Soon contentment you will find
Have a happy new year Have a happy new year
Happy new year, everybody.... rich
I guess the joke is on us...
When Lan Anh stayed with me and Mark last summer, we had a running joke that Mark intitated. She was such an incredible guest, so competent, so smart and capable, that Mark commented 'we got Ho Chi Minh's grand daughter staying with us'. We used it often during her three week stay, along with other witticisms such as the time Soberman brought his dachsund 'Vinnie' over for a visit, and we told her that 'we don't eat dogs here, leave Vinnie alone', that sort of clever repartee. Oh yeah, we're a bundle of laughs.
But back to Uncle Ho, as he's called here.... it was a high compliment that we were bestowing with that moniker, and she lived up to it. In the eleven years that I've been living on West Amazon, we've hosted dozens of disabled guests who were in town on Mobility International Conferences, and Lan Anh was at the very top of the list. She basically took over our place, in a good way. She would ask Mark to take her to the Asian store for supplies, and then every day she would prepare the kind of food that was right for her, rice soups, vegetables, ground pork wrapped with veggies and rolled up in egg rolls. No ham sandwiches and apples for this girl, she wanted it the way she wanted it, and she made it happen. We loved having her stay with us.
And now the 'joke' has come full circle. This morning, Lan Anh called me into her room and asked if I wanted to see what her mom was doing as part of the Tet celebration. 'Of course', I replied, setting down my guitar as I had been working on yet more lyrics for my Boom boom song. I go into the room and mom is lighting incense and praying to an altar of the ancestors. She had placed a meal for them on a tray which she put on the dresser, behind which were photos of grandparents,, great grandparents, and on the very top, a large photo of Ho Chi Minh. Just under the photo of Ho was a picture of her great grandfather, complete with Ho Chi Minh beard, skull cap and the same impression as the leader. They could have been twins. They were contemporaries after all, and I'll have to ask if they knew eachother.
The offered meal consisted of bamboo, chicken, rice, 5 shots of vodka and five beers, along with some mandarins, a watermelon and some sweets. The idea was to leave it there for half an hour for the ancestors to enjoy, then it would be the meal that we ate. Mom held an incense stick and bowed three times and indicated that I could do the same, if I wanted to. Of course I did, and feeling very reverential and grateful, I said my prayers for the ancestors, and by extension, for all the Vietnamese who suffered in the past. (if you know what I'm saying). I was very touched by the experience, all the more so because of the photo of Lan Anh's dad who passed away three months ago, and has now taken his place on the dresser. After a year, his photo will be raised onto the wall as a permanent member of the honored guests.
I woke up this morning at 8:30am, and went down to use the bathroom. Mother was in the kitchen, and she indicated that I could wash my face with the liquid that she was preparing, a broth made from a special grass, also part of the new years tradition, providing for a fragrant and healthy year. I sat down on one of the low stools that they use when washing dishes, and I spent some minutes washing my face in the 'perfume'. And praying for a holy year. (another lovely tradition)
Last night we stayed up past midnight, enjoying the spotless house and some very tacky Vietnamese TV with a new year's show that was pretty lame... wooden interviews, lip synched entertainment, geared to the older set. I really had the urge for some thrashing, youth culture rock, but that was not to be. Instead it was a bunch of models in costume, doing lame choreography with painted on smiles and cheesy music... not that I would judge, of course. After midnight, Lan Anh's uncle and cousin showed up, super sweet people, he a cop, and the cousin studying electircal engineering. they had a drink, stayed for twenty minutes and then took us, meaning we were free to go to bed.
Oh I forgot about the 'lucky money', which you put in envelopes and give to your close peeps, along with wishes for prosperity and a good year. I participated in the ritual, borrowing some envelopes from Lan Anh and giving to her, her mom, husband and son. (about $20 worth, but who's counting?) and I received an envelope from Lan Anh and her mom, along with genuine wishes for a prosperous year.... nice...
This morning, we were paid a visit by a large group of men, all wearing suits and ties. These are the neighborhood guys, representatives of a group of 24 families which is how the society here is organized. They go to each of the houses in the group, paying respects, drinking a spot of tea, eating a piece of fruit, shaking hands, and then on to the next place. They all shook my hand, offered a smile. when I said, 'where are the women?' and Lan Anh translated, they all laughed. the women come later in the afternoon.... morning is guy time. I liked the tradition, and I look forward to meeting the wives as well.
And since father passed away recently, there is a New Year's tradition of paying respects to the family by coming to visit and offer condolences on the first three days of the new year. I guess it's the vietnamese equivalent of the Jewish 'sitting shiva', which is the seven day period after a death when the family stays home to receive visitors. Here they wait until the new year, and then the dropping in begins. (I'm thinking there won't be any chopped liver.... but you never know :-)
Well that's it from Tet, and yeah, I did have to mention to the family that for me, the word 'Tet' was always followed by 'Offensive' as in the turning point of the Vietnam War in 1969, when they washed their faces in traditional broth, blessed their ancestors, gave lucky money, and then kicked our asses back where they belonged. I might have phrased it a little differently than that, of course, but I did express the gratitude and appreciation for getting the wonderful chance to really celebrate and understand the holiday. Happy New Year, everybody, from Song Cong, Thai Nguyen Province, north of Hanoi...
rich
But back to Uncle Ho, as he's called here.... it was a high compliment that we were bestowing with that moniker, and she lived up to it. In the eleven years that I've been living on West Amazon, we've hosted dozens of disabled guests who were in town on Mobility International Conferences, and Lan Anh was at the very top of the list. She basically took over our place, in a good way. She would ask Mark to take her to the Asian store for supplies, and then every day she would prepare the kind of food that was right for her, rice soups, vegetables, ground pork wrapped with veggies and rolled up in egg rolls. No ham sandwiches and apples for this girl, she wanted it the way she wanted it, and she made it happen. We loved having her stay with us.
And now the 'joke' has come full circle. This morning, Lan Anh called me into her room and asked if I wanted to see what her mom was doing as part of the Tet celebration. 'Of course', I replied, setting down my guitar as I had been working on yet more lyrics for my Boom boom song. I go into the room and mom is lighting incense and praying to an altar of the ancestors. She had placed a meal for them on a tray which she put on the dresser, behind which were photos of grandparents,, great grandparents, and on the very top, a large photo of Ho Chi Minh. Just under the photo of Ho was a picture of her great grandfather, complete with Ho Chi Minh beard, skull cap and the same impression as the leader. They could have been twins. They were contemporaries after all, and I'll have to ask if they knew eachother.
The offered meal consisted of bamboo, chicken, rice, 5 shots of vodka and five beers, along with some mandarins, a watermelon and some sweets. The idea was to leave it there for half an hour for the ancestors to enjoy, then it would be the meal that we ate. Mom held an incense stick and bowed three times and indicated that I could do the same, if I wanted to. Of course I did, and feeling very reverential and grateful, I said my prayers for the ancestors, and by extension, for all the Vietnamese who suffered in the past. (if you know what I'm saying). I was very touched by the experience, all the more so because of the photo of Lan Anh's dad who passed away three months ago, and has now taken his place on the dresser. After a year, his photo will be raised onto the wall as a permanent member of the honored guests.
I woke up this morning at 8:30am, and went down to use the bathroom. Mother was in the kitchen, and she indicated that I could wash my face with the liquid that she was preparing, a broth made from a special grass, also part of the new years tradition, providing for a fragrant and healthy year. I sat down on one of the low stools that they use when washing dishes, and I spent some minutes washing my face in the 'perfume'. And praying for a holy year. (another lovely tradition)
Last night we stayed up past midnight, enjoying the spotless house and some very tacky Vietnamese TV with a new year's show that was pretty lame... wooden interviews, lip synched entertainment, geared to the older set. I really had the urge for some thrashing, youth culture rock, but that was not to be. Instead it was a bunch of models in costume, doing lame choreography with painted on smiles and cheesy music... not that I would judge, of course. After midnight, Lan Anh's uncle and cousin showed up, super sweet people, he a cop, and the cousin studying electircal engineering. they had a drink, stayed for twenty minutes and then took us, meaning we were free to go to bed.
Oh I forgot about the 'lucky money', which you put in envelopes and give to your close peeps, along with wishes for prosperity and a good year. I participated in the ritual, borrowing some envelopes from Lan Anh and giving to her, her mom, husband and son. (about $20 worth, but who's counting?) and I received an envelope from Lan Anh and her mom, along with genuine wishes for a prosperous year.... nice...
This morning, we were paid a visit by a large group of men, all wearing suits and ties. These are the neighborhood guys, representatives of a group of 24 families which is how the society here is organized. They go to each of the houses in the group, paying respects, drinking a spot of tea, eating a piece of fruit, shaking hands, and then on to the next place. They all shook my hand, offered a smile. when I said, 'where are the women?' and Lan Anh translated, they all laughed. the women come later in the afternoon.... morning is guy time. I liked the tradition, and I look forward to meeting the wives as well.
And since father passed away recently, there is a New Year's tradition of paying respects to the family by coming to visit and offer condolences on the first three days of the new year. I guess it's the vietnamese equivalent of the Jewish 'sitting shiva', which is the seven day period after a death when the family stays home to receive visitors. Here they wait until the new year, and then the dropping in begins. (I'm thinking there won't be any chopped liver.... but you never know :-)
Well that's it from Tet, and yeah, I did have to mention to the family that for me, the word 'Tet' was always followed by 'Offensive' as in the turning point of the Vietnam War in 1969, when they washed their faces in traditional broth, blessed their ancestors, gave lucky money, and then kicked our asses back where they belonged. I might have phrased it a little differently than that, of course, but I did express the gratitude and appreciation for getting the wonderful chance to really celebrate and understand the holiday. Happy New Year, everybody, from Song Cong, Thai Nguyen Province, north of Hanoi...
rich
Twas the night before Tet, and all through the house...
Took a languorous walk out of town this afternoon around 2pm as the streets were nearly empty. The wide avenue that goes through town quickly became a narrow winding street when it crossed the river and went into the countryside. I shouldered my guitar, figuring I might find a quiet place to strum this new thing I've been working on, so I hit the road looking for the muse.
Often I'll get that 'Erev Ba' feeling as the sun begins to set, Erev Ba being an Israeli folk song that talks about the evening approaching and a certain kind of stillness in the air as the days draws to a close. I had that kind of dreamy vibe going, wandering in a new place, waving to the folks who waved at me, passing cornfields, yapping dogs, people on mororcycles, some cows, a meandering river, very peaceful on the day of the New Year celebration.
3 or 4 different people stopped their bikes as they passed me, indicating that I could hop on and take a ride if I was so inclined. I smiled and thanked them, indicating that I was just out for a walk, but I was struck by the friendliness and kindness being offered. (here in North Vietnam, sabes?). Many others stopped to wave, say 'Hello', shake my hand, and offer a smile. Like I say, there is no tourism in this community and I was an oddity, which suited me just fine.
On the way back to town, instead of crossing back over the river, I scouted out a little flat spot hidden under a stand of bamboo, and there I spent maybe half an hour practicing this new piece, imagining some lyrical ideas, and simply enjoying my guitar friend one more time. It was such a great move to bring it along, as not a day goes by that I'm not pleased to have it along. Often it's a way for others to connect with me, as tons of people know a few chords and are wanting to play something... which leads to some kind of interchange as others hear the music and come to check it out. I should name this guitar, she has became quite a great friend. I'm open to suggestions for a name.... (maybe something a little Spanish, as I picked her up in Sevilla).
Speaking of names, as in 'Who's on first?', last night I was totally enjoying the fried egg roll things that Lan Anh's husband Sing had made. I asked, 'what do you call these, what's the name?' She said, 'mame', I said, yeah, the name, she said, 'name'. That's what it's called. OMG they are so delicious and there's another batch for tonight's feast. A combination of pork, veggies, noodles, mushrooms chopped fine and rolled into a rice paper tortilla thing, then fried in oil to a golden brown. That's what's in a name...
Also on the humor front, and this one courtesy of Sing. One of the dishes we ate was cooked bamboo, and I made the comment that wow, you build with it, sit on it, use it for mats, picture frames, even eat it. He added, in Vietnamese, 'yeah and we stick it in the feet of the prisoners', as that was one of the ways of interroagating prisoners. Doesn't sound funny to write it down, but in the context of the conversation, it was hilarious. So good to share humor with these friends.
When I came back from the walk, Lan Anh was busy putting together tonights 'name' and Sing was slaughtering a chicken which they keep in a little coop in the backyard. It's for tonight's ceremony and I was interested in how he performed the ritual. He grabbed it, used his feet to stabilize it, put his hand over the head to stretch it and calm it down, then sliced the neck to bleed it. He collected the blood in a bowl, then kind of kept the bird really still as it died. Seemed humane and respectful. Next he turned it over and over in hot water to soften it up for plucking the feathers, which he spent twenty minutes carefully doing. Midnight bird tonight.
Of course I wanted to help in the preparation, and I got the opportunity fo first bring in some of the plants for the setting, including the mandarin tree, now strung with lights, as well as a large, white blossomed plant in a big planter, both of which were set on opposite sides of the room. Then it was time to sweep the large sidewalk in front of the house as well as toss bucket after bucket of water to move the dirt toward the street. I did this with Lan Anh's mom and the neighbors looked on approvingly. Then she handed me a bucket and a mop and I did the floors twice so the place is now sparkling. We're gonna have a meal before too long, and then hang around until midnight when the relatives show up for the real celebration, with champagne, special foods, lucky money etc. I'll write about it after it happens.
It's now 6:15 pm, dark and we'll see what happens from here. My first Tet, best one yet...
Often I'll get that 'Erev Ba' feeling as the sun begins to set, Erev Ba being an Israeli folk song that talks about the evening approaching and a certain kind of stillness in the air as the days draws to a close. I had that kind of dreamy vibe going, wandering in a new place, waving to the folks who waved at me, passing cornfields, yapping dogs, people on mororcycles, some cows, a meandering river, very peaceful on the day of the New Year celebration.
3 or 4 different people stopped their bikes as they passed me, indicating that I could hop on and take a ride if I was so inclined. I smiled and thanked them, indicating that I was just out for a walk, but I was struck by the friendliness and kindness being offered. (here in North Vietnam, sabes?). Many others stopped to wave, say 'Hello', shake my hand, and offer a smile. Like I say, there is no tourism in this community and I was an oddity, which suited me just fine.
On the way back to town, instead of crossing back over the river, I scouted out a little flat spot hidden under a stand of bamboo, and there I spent maybe half an hour practicing this new piece, imagining some lyrical ideas, and simply enjoying my guitar friend one more time. It was such a great move to bring it along, as not a day goes by that I'm not pleased to have it along. Often it's a way for others to connect with me, as tons of people know a few chords and are wanting to play something... which leads to some kind of interchange as others hear the music and come to check it out. I should name this guitar, she has became quite a great friend. I'm open to suggestions for a name.... (maybe something a little Spanish, as I picked her up in Sevilla).
Speaking of names, as in 'Who's on first?', last night I was totally enjoying the fried egg roll things that Lan Anh's husband Sing had made. I asked, 'what do you call these, what's the name?' She said, 'mame', I said, yeah, the name, she said, 'name'. That's what it's called. OMG they are so delicious and there's another batch for tonight's feast. A combination of pork, veggies, noodles, mushrooms chopped fine and rolled into a rice paper tortilla thing, then fried in oil to a golden brown. That's what's in a name...
Also on the humor front, and this one courtesy of Sing. One of the dishes we ate was cooked bamboo, and I made the comment that wow, you build with it, sit on it, use it for mats, picture frames, even eat it. He added, in Vietnamese, 'yeah and we stick it in the feet of the prisoners', as that was one of the ways of interroagating prisoners. Doesn't sound funny to write it down, but in the context of the conversation, it was hilarious. So good to share humor with these friends.
When I came back from the walk, Lan Anh was busy putting together tonights 'name' and Sing was slaughtering a chicken which they keep in a little coop in the backyard. It's for tonight's ceremony and I was interested in how he performed the ritual. He grabbed it, used his feet to stabilize it, put his hand over the head to stretch it and calm it down, then sliced the neck to bleed it. He collected the blood in a bowl, then kind of kept the bird really still as it died. Seemed humane and respectful. Next he turned it over and over in hot water to soften it up for plucking the feathers, which he spent twenty minutes carefully doing. Midnight bird tonight.
Of course I wanted to help in the preparation, and I got the opportunity fo first bring in some of the plants for the setting, including the mandarin tree, now strung with lights, as well as a large, white blossomed plant in a big planter, both of which were set on opposite sides of the room. Then it was time to sweep the large sidewalk in front of the house as well as toss bucket after bucket of water to move the dirt toward the street. I did this with Lan Anh's mom and the neighbors looked on approvingly. Then she handed me a bucket and a mop and I did the floors twice so the place is now sparkling. We're gonna have a meal before too long, and then hang around until midnight when the relatives show up for the real celebration, with champagne, special foods, lucky money etc. I'll write about it after it happens.
It's now 6:15 pm, dark and we'll see what happens from here. My first Tet, best one yet...
Brrrrr
Definitely the coldest spot on the itinerary, I'm wearing all my clothes, but now I see that the sun is out and it looks like a comfortable day. We're on a residential and business street, at 5 this morning, women begin gathering right out front of the house to set up and sell fresh meet on some tables right on the street. they were doing a brisk business by 7am, as it's the last day to buy because of at least two days of holiday coming right up.
We had to make two trips to the police station yesterday, one for the city cops, then for the neighborhood cops, each of whom needs to have a copy of my passport and visa, along with a signed statement from my hosts that they are responsible for my actions. I had to sign that as well. All of the officers seem to be young men in uniform, laboring away for the Party. They were pleasant about it, especially the second guy, who had us come down there at 9:30 last night to do the paperwork. For a woman who uses a wheelchair, that meant getting lifted onto the back of her mom's motorcycle, while here two year old is crying because he doesn't want mom to go without him. I rode on the back of the cousin's bike as we went down to the station. Sigh...
There is no internet in this town, so I'm on Lan Anhs computer with some kind of wireless hookup. It's not totally reliable, and often the cursor starts flipping on to a different line of text, oh well, we make the best. Her mom is really a cool woman, likely unhappy because her husband passed away suddenly last summer and this is the first Tet without him. But she is 56, beautiful, gracious and kind, riding her motorcycle on errands, keeping the house and family together. She is retired from her job where she worked as an accountant in a factory, I just found. out. It's touching to be in the presence of someone my own age who was on the opposite side during the debacle in the 60s and 70s. I think of that little napalm girl whose photo is burned into our psyches from that period, and yeah, she could be that person... but she's not. But that's how my mind goes sometimes.
The house I'm staying in is where Lan Anh and her sisters grew up, 2 stories, a 10 meter across fish pond in the back, I wonder who built that? The TV is on, some kind of children's show for the little guy, who is incredibly precious and precocious. a total musician the way he plays with my guitar. He's all over me, smiling and messing around and talking to me. I'm in love.
In the back patio, there is the little citrus tree which is the symbol of the holiday, everyone was picking one up yesterday to bring home for the celebration. I asked if I could pay at least for the gas of the trip that they made to come pick me up at the airport, and Lan Anh says the best was is tomorrow when we share 'lucky money', not sure how it works, but I'll certainly follow her lead on this, and will be able to contribute tomorrow. Meanwhile I had a phenomenal meal last night, with many delicious treats, and the party continues tonights.
On the kids show, the children are doing a new year's ballet dance all dressed in the red and yellow Party colors. Many houses fly the flag, yellow star on a red background. There's one flying at this house.
There seems to be not one tourist face except mine, which is really a pleasure after being in the tourist bubble since I arrived. Now I'm totally immersed, not understanding much, but feeling quite content and well taken care of. The folks last night were very happy to include me in the drinking and revelry, and her uncle made the comment several times that it was wonderful that Lan Anh came to America, and because she was so special, her american host came all the way to Vietnam to see her, which is true. He was acknowledging his niece, and she certainly deserves the praise, as she is a marvelous person, and I'm blessed to be her 'Rich Daddy'. (our little joke)
Now I'll get off the computer and see if there is something I can do to contribute, shuck corn, gather wood, I have no idea, but I want to offer and not be 'no, you're the guest' all the time I'm here. We shall see. Feeling major gratitude for this window and this opportunity in the north of Vietnam.
We had to make two trips to the police station yesterday, one for the city cops, then for the neighborhood cops, each of whom needs to have a copy of my passport and visa, along with a signed statement from my hosts that they are responsible for my actions. I had to sign that as well. All of the officers seem to be young men in uniform, laboring away for the Party. They were pleasant about it, especially the second guy, who had us come down there at 9:30 last night to do the paperwork. For a woman who uses a wheelchair, that meant getting lifted onto the back of her mom's motorcycle, while here two year old is crying because he doesn't want mom to go without him. I rode on the back of the cousin's bike as we went down to the station. Sigh...
There is no internet in this town, so I'm on Lan Anhs computer with some kind of wireless hookup. It's not totally reliable, and often the cursor starts flipping on to a different line of text, oh well, we make the best. Her mom is really a cool woman, likely unhappy because her husband passed away suddenly last summer and this is the first Tet without him. But she is 56, beautiful, gracious and kind, riding her motorcycle on errands, keeping the house and family together. She is retired from her job where she worked as an accountant in a factory, I just found. out. It's touching to be in the presence of someone my own age who was on the opposite side during the debacle in the 60s and 70s. I think of that little napalm girl whose photo is burned into our psyches from that period, and yeah, she could be that person... but she's not. But that's how my mind goes sometimes.
The house I'm staying in is where Lan Anh and her sisters grew up, 2 stories, a 10 meter across fish pond in the back, I wonder who built that? The TV is on, some kind of children's show for the little guy, who is incredibly precious and precocious. a total musician the way he plays with my guitar. He's all over me, smiling and messing around and talking to me. I'm in love.
In the back patio, there is the little citrus tree which is the symbol of the holiday, everyone was picking one up yesterday to bring home for the celebration. I asked if I could pay at least for the gas of the trip that they made to come pick me up at the airport, and Lan Anh says the best was is tomorrow when we share 'lucky money', not sure how it works, but I'll certainly follow her lead on this, and will be able to contribute tomorrow. Meanwhile I had a phenomenal meal last night, with many delicious treats, and the party continues tonights.
On the kids show, the children are doing a new year's ballet dance all dressed in the red and yellow Party colors. Many houses fly the flag, yellow star on a red background. There's one flying at this house.
There seems to be not one tourist face except mine, which is really a pleasure after being in the tourist bubble since I arrived. Now I'm totally immersed, not understanding much, but feeling quite content and well taken care of. The folks last night were very happy to include me in the drinking and revelry, and her uncle made the comment several times that it was wonderful that Lan Anh came to America, and because she was so special, her american host came all the way to Vietnam to see her, which is true. He was acknowledging his niece, and she certainly deserves the praise, as she is a marvelous person, and I'm blessed to be her 'Rich Daddy'. (our little joke)
Now I'll get off the computer and see if there is something I can do to contribute, shuck corn, gather wood, I have no idea, but I want to offer and not be 'no, you're the guest' all the time I'm here. We shall see. Feeling major gratitude for this window and this opportunity in the north of Vietnam.
Vietnam and healing
This was worth the whole trip in a way, to sit and celebrate with 12 Vietnamese friends, eating and drinking, much laughter, next to no English being spoken on the night before Tet. I'm here at Lan Anh's mothers house in a town north of Hanoi, and this evening we had a celebration dinner with the close relatives, uncles, brothers in law, aunts, cousins. the food was incredible, the company outstanding and the alcohol was flowing as we were downing small shots of vodka, wine and beer as part of the bonding ritual.
They liked me a lot, and I was very moved to be in this environment, sharing good times with our former enemies. At a certain point, I wanted to make a little speech, which I did, and it was along the lines of 'when I was 16 and our country was at war with Vietnam, I went to Washington to protest. When I was 18 I was drafted and they wanted me to come fight here, but I wouldn't. Most all of the Americans of my age feel guilty about what our country did here, because we were wrong. And it means so much to me to be here and sharing this time with you.
They were very appreciative, and Lan Anh's mother '56' years old added that our government should make reparations to all the Vietnamese who were damaged by agent orange. But they totally appreciated my sentiment, and it was a beautiful thing. I need to cut this short as Lan Anh and I have to go again to the police station to let them know that I'm staying here in the village. It's a bit 'gestapo' in that regard, but more on that later... we must show our papers....
They liked me a lot, and I was very moved to be in this environment, sharing good times with our former enemies. At a certain point, I wanted to make a little speech, which I did, and it was along the lines of 'when I was 16 and our country was at war with Vietnam, I went to Washington to protest. When I was 18 I was drafted and they wanted me to come fight here, but I wouldn't. Most all of the Americans of my age feel guilty about what our country did here, because we were wrong. And it means so much to me to be here and sharing this time with you.
They were very appreciative, and Lan Anh's mother '56' years old added that our government should make reparations to all the Vietnamese who were damaged by agent orange. But they totally appreciated my sentiment, and it was a beautiful thing. I need to cut this short as Lan Anh and I have to go again to the police station to let them know that I'm staying here in the village. It's a bit 'gestapo' in that regard, but more on that later... we must show our papers....
Nervous time, or maybe not...
Closing in on leaving Luang Prabang, soon off to the travel agent to see if my passport and visa arrived on time, then to catch the all-nighter bus ride south to catch the plane into Hanoi. There was one email waiting for me, and it was from my Vietnamese friend Lan Anh who tells me she will pick me up from the airport, which is an hour from her mom's house. OMG what luck that is! I was preparing for being totally lost, confused and wondering how I'd fare in that situation. Started feeling a little nervous, which is a natural part of the journey for me, nothing to fear exactly, just watching my mind go that way. To get picked up at the Hanoi Airport like a VIP is almost too good to believe. More gratitude, my cup has runneth over. (assuming she makes it, of course, but hey what could happen?)
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