I’ve been going to the Buddhist temple ever since I was little. I went every Sunday for Vietnamese language classes and I attended it often for Tet Trung Thu, Tet, and other Vietnamese holidays. I grew up on movies about how Buddha came to be and I performed in dances that told the story of Buddha's birth. But what was most important was the way my family practiced Buddhism and how much it affected me in so many ways. My father, who tries hard to be a good Buddhist, has always taught me values of living simply, accepting struggles in life, finding peace in the heart and mind, and being selfless. These, I thought, were just values that my dad carried - not necessarily things that my dad also carried with him through ideas of Buddhism.
Then, throughout high school, I pulled away from that side of me. I proclaimed myself an "atheist" and in many ways, I still think I am. But it wasn't till college and REALLY until this central trip that I realized I was denying the culturally Buddhist side of me. To argue that there is nothing beyond logic and reason in this world is already so colonizing. To not be open to other worldviews is also colonizing. And to deny it within myself and my family is colonizing, or oppressive, to who I am.
Thus, when we went to visit several pagodas and temples last week on our central Vietnam trip, I was overwhelmed with emotion. And I didn't really know why. Was it because it reminded me of how much I was NOT at peace with myself? Because it reminded me of something I denied? I'm not sure. But it wasn't until our group went and ate vegetarian food at a monastery/temple place that I finally came to grips with my spirituality.
It was extremely emotional sitting and talking to the head monk. It was so powerful to hear her story and how, despite her parents' struggles, she was so selfless. For her, she KNEW she wanted to help people despite the pain she had to go through. And just being in her presence, you can feel her beauty just radiating off of her. She was so charming, charismatic, friendly, and just straight up beautiful of a human being. And it really took me back to my dad. Despite all the problems in our family, he has always tried to give. Rather than buying clothes for himself, he literally takes my brother's and my grandpa's hand-me-downs and alters it himself. Even when we are struggling to make money, he is down to put down a couple hundred to help some sort of foundation. And even though my family gives him so much shit, he freakin loves us to death. He's definitely made some mistakes in his life but I believe he struggles so much to be what this head monk is.
From that moment, I realized how much I embody these different Buddhist values. Although I am definitely not my father, I know I strive to be similar to him. I know there's a lot to Buddhism that I locked away and I know there's a lot I need to stop denying. I'm not going to become a monk or anything, but I am going to stop rejecting sides to me that I grew up on.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
Service Learning: Ethics
Thank goodness for the game of Dominos. We have finally found the one game that all the kids can learn and enjoy. It doesn’t require that much skill and effort so that’s a plus. It's also rewarding for us because the first time I tried to introduce the game of duck, duck, goose, that failed miserably. It made me realize how much I needed to check myself in terms of my own ability to play simple games like this while others, who have certain disabilities, do not have that privilege. Thanks to Peter for bringing that in. Now I got to step up my game and be a little more creative as well.
We’ve also been giving the students profile pages where they can draw their own portrait, write down their name, hobbies, goals in life, etc. It’s been pretty cool. Many of them can’t do it themselves so we draw their portrait for them. I can’t say that my interpretations of them look anything like them but I try! I love the way the students will color their portraits green as if they had green skin or something. Haha. It's been really interesting to hear what their goals are in life. One student said he wanted to be a firefighter. Another one said she wanted to be a teacher. It makes me wonder how possible these dreams really are. Can they really become a teacher or a firefighter? Probably not. And have they been asked these sort of questions before? In Vietnamese society, how do they view the disabled? Do they write them off as forever at a disadvantage and incapable of a successful future? Or do they try their best to improve the lives of the children? I know in the U.S., we have disability rights but here, it doesn't seem like thats the case. So to have these dreams, are we sparking something in them or are we reminding them of what they can't become...I don't know for right now.
Furthermore, although we are trying our best to make the exercise room a more enjoyable and lively space, there’s a lot that just makes me cringe. For instance, we’ve seen kids getting hit with rulers and metal sticks way too many times. Because it’s the “physical therapy” room, a lot of young children who haven’t learned how to walk yet are dropped off into this room by their parents. Sometimes, they are forced to stand against the wall for a whole hour and if they bend their knees or drop to the floor at all, they are scolded and hit. I mean, honestly, I wouldn’t want to stand there for that long and I can stand up fine. Just this week, one of the students (who I secretly want to adopt because he’s so damn adorable) was getting his legs and back straightened out by the physical therapist. Because the kid couldn’t stand up straight like the way that the therapist wanted, the therapist begins yelling at the kid. The whole time, this kid is just crying but you could honestly feel no sympathy in the therapist’s voice. It was really strange and depressing. At the same time, I know that I can't say anything because one, I know it's not my place and 2) how can I say that this person's form of discipline is the wrong form?
It makes me wonder what forms of training goes on here. Positive or negative reinforcement? Traditional methods of hitting children? It really bothers me because although I am trying to be culturally sensitive, sometimes I think the therapists, especially one of them, is just being power hungry and unethical. But maybe that's just me being an outside looking in. Other things, too. They don’t give the children any water throughout the whole day. They also force the bigger kids to do a lot of work. Although I understand that they are trying to teach the students ideas of responsibility, I wonder if the nurses take advantage of their mental disabilities. They know that they will do what they are told and not complain as much as other students. And then, I wonder if the nurses think about this, too. There’s just a lot of questions going around in terms of their teaching methods, their purpose, etc.
We’ve also been giving the students profile pages where they can draw their own portrait, write down their name, hobbies, goals in life, etc. It’s been pretty cool. Many of them can’t do it themselves so we draw their portrait for them. I can’t say that my interpretations of them look anything like them but I try! I love the way the students will color their portraits green as if they had green skin or something. Haha. It's been really interesting to hear what their goals are in life. One student said he wanted to be a firefighter. Another one said she wanted to be a teacher. It makes me wonder how possible these dreams really are. Can they really become a teacher or a firefighter? Probably not. And have they been asked these sort of questions before? In Vietnamese society, how do they view the disabled? Do they write them off as forever at a disadvantage and incapable of a successful future? Or do they try their best to improve the lives of the children? I know in the U.S., we have disability rights but here, it doesn't seem like thats the case. So to have these dreams, are we sparking something in them or are we reminding them of what they can't become...I don't know for right now.
Furthermore, although we are trying our best to make the exercise room a more enjoyable and lively space, there’s a lot that just makes me cringe. For instance, we’ve seen kids getting hit with rulers and metal sticks way too many times. Because it’s the “physical therapy” room, a lot of young children who haven’t learned how to walk yet are dropped off into this room by their parents. Sometimes, they are forced to stand against the wall for a whole hour and if they bend their knees or drop to the floor at all, they are scolded and hit. I mean, honestly, I wouldn’t want to stand there for that long and I can stand up fine. Just this week, one of the students (who I secretly want to adopt because he’s so damn adorable) was getting his legs and back straightened out by the physical therapist. Because the kid couldn’t stand up straight like the way that the therapist wanted, the therapist begins yelling at the kid. The whole time, this kid is just crying but you could honestly feel no sympathy in the therapist’s voice. It was really strange and depressing. At the same time, I know that I can't say anything because one, I know it's not my place and 2) how can I say that this person's form of discipline is the wrong form?
It makes me wonder what forms of training goes on here. Positive or negative reinforcement? Traditional methods of hitting children? It really bothers me because although I am trying to be culturally sensitive, sometimes I think the therapists, especially one of them, is just being power hungry and unethical. But maybe that's just me being an outside looking in. Other things, too. They don’t give the children any water throughout the whole day. They also force the bigger kids to do a lot of work. Although I understand that they are trying to teach the students ideas of responsibility, I wonder if the nurses take advantage of their mental disabilities. They know that they will do what they are told and not complain as much as other students. And then, I wonder if the nurses think about this, too. There’s just a lot of questions going around in terms of their teaching methods, their purpose, etc.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Growing Youth Culture
During the first two weeks of school, I was having a really conflicting time in Vietnam. I thought that I wasn’t a good “traditional, Vietnamese student” because I always wanted to go out and drink, be spontaneous, run in the rain, go dancing, and all of that. And part of it is probably because I have the privilege of being able to spend that sort of money doing those activities. But also, there was an attitude towards people that wanted to do that all the time. It made me kind of sad because I knew that I wanted to “fit in” with the lifestyle of Vietnamese people here.
But after finding about new venues, such as Solace or Heresy, I think I somewhat found my niche. There’s a whole scene of people that go out late all the time. All the way till 5am. There’s this growing youth culture of rockers, rebels, queer folks (YEE YEE!), and probably really rich Westernized kids that tend to break the traditional rules. And it feels like home.
I know its not typical of Vietnam in any way. I know that most stores close by 11-12am for a reason. But for now, these new friends that I’ve been making at Heresy and Solace makes the transition here easier. And its not all about drinking and partying either. We have great conversations over food, beer, cigarettes, etc. and we enjoy each other’s presence. And they don’t judge me for my ways.
At the same time, I think I need to be critical of this culture. While its great that so many people are being subversive, at the same time, I only understand it with an American lenses. Maybe its not as good as I think. And what does it mean when a lot of them prefer to listen to Western music and downplay Vietnamese music? Or what does it mean when these are usually just the ones that can AFFORD to go out in the way that they do? But for now, I am enjoying being in their presence. To live and to learn.
But after finding about new venues, such as Solace or Heresy, I think I somewhat found my niche. There’s a whole scene of people that go out late all the time. All the way till 5am. There’s this growing youth culture of rockers, rebels, queer folks (YEE YEE!), and probably really rich Westernized kids that tend to break the traditional rules. And it feels like home.
I know its not typical of Vietnam in any way. I know that most stores close by 11-12am for a reason. But for now, these new friends that I’ve been making at Heresy and Solace makes the transition here easier. And its not all about drinking and partying either. We have great conversations over food, beer, cigarettes, etc. and we enjoy each other’s presence. And they don’t judge me for my ways.
At the same time, I think I need to be critical of this culture. While its great that so many people are being subversive, at the same time, I only understand it with an American lenses. Maybe its not as good as I think. And what does it mean when a lot of them prefer to listen to Western music and downplay Vietnamese music? Or what does it mean when these are usually just the ones that can AFFORD to go out in the way that they do? But for now, I am enjoying being in their presence. To live and to learn.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Service Learning: Relationships
This week has definitely gotten better at Hoa Binh Village but because it’s so emotionally exhausting, I still find myself having to pull myself out of my room and go. I feel really guilty about this, too but I think, at some point, I’ll finally understand the importance of our work there. For now, it feels like they just put us in a room and say “go play”.
On Monday, Peter and I found out that we would have to work in the exercise room every single day. Yaaaay…kinda. Inside, we see little kids getting hit, there’s not many props you can play with, and the dim lighting will put you to sleep. However, we’re working on it. It’s been easier to interact with them every single day and we’ve been brainstorming some items that we can bring in for them.
After being in the exercise room for about 3 hours, Peter and I get to go outside and play with the students as they are waiting for or finishing up lunch. This is the one time we get to interact with so many students. It felt really refreshing that when we walked outside, so many students from last week came up and talked to us.. It felt like we were really starting to build up a good relationship. However, I often fear what will happen when we have to leave. I’m afraid of having them become attached to us and vice versa. I could already see what would happen when we have to leave. Would it be hard for us? Would we cry? And more importantly, would I ever come back to visit and see them? I’m not really sure. Detachment is just so hard especially when building a relationship with them is what makes the job worth it. We’ll see what happens.
On Monday, Peter and I found out that we would have to work in the exercise room every single day. Yaaaay…kinda. Inside, we see little kids getting hit, there’s not many props you can play with, and the dim lighting will put you to sleep. However, we’re working on it. It’s been easier to interact with them every single day and we’ve been brainstorming some items that we can bring in for them.
After being in the exercise room for about 3 hours, Peter and I get to go outside and play with the students as they are waiting for or finishing up lunch. This is the one time we get to interact with so many students. It felt really refreshing that when we walked outside, so many students from last week came up and talked to us.. It felt like we were really starting to build up a good relationship. However, I often fear what will happen when we have to leave. I’m afraid of having them become attached to us and vice versa. I could already see what would happen when we have to leave. Would it be hard for us? Would we cry? And more importantly, would I ever come back to visit and see them? I’m not really sure. Detachment is just so hard especially when building a relationship with them is what makes the job worth it. We’ll see what happens.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Love, Your Granddaughter
This week has been extremely interesting in Vietnam. Just in a course of a few days, the meaning of EAP Vietnam meant something a little more to me. After a decent day at Hoa Binh Than Xuan Village, I came home and went and did my usual facebook chatting. I was surprised to see my uncle online. I asked him how he was doing and he replied by saying that my aunt has just rushed down to San Jose to pray for my grandpa. I asked what had happened to him and he said that he had just passed away at 3am. Damn.
I knew that this moment would come but I didn’t think it would happen so soon. He was already 96 years old so I knew he would've died knowing that he's had such a long life. However, I also thought he would die peacefully. Instead, last last spring while I was slaving over finals, he came down with a stroke. Half of his body was paralyzed. I was so used to the idea of him dancing in my house whenever we nhau-ed and karaoked, pushing his walker slowly through the hallway, and grinning as he took down his 4 beers a day. So when this happened, it was such a shocker to me. It really pained me that I didn’t really get to know him. I mean, 96? He must have the craziest stories to tell and I don’t even know one. I know his mannerisms, his behavior, his personality, but I don't know his story for shit.
It wasn’t till later when I met up with Gerard for our service learning office hours that I realized that I honestly needed to start learning more about my family history. We talked about possible research projects and he offered me the chance to uncover my family's history before 1954 and after. It really struck a chord with me. I mean, when else am I gonna get the chance to be in Vietnam and to talk to my family members? Even though I’m really upset with myself for not being in the States with my family during such a time, I know my grandpa would’ve wanted me to be in Vietnam connecting back to my roots. In a way, I'm making up for all the time that I didn't spend trying to understand my family.
In conclusion, Vietnam just got waaaaaay more personal, but its all good in the hood.
R.I.P. Grandpa. Van Thai Sinh or Hang Sinh. I’ll miss your smile, your dance moves, and your ice cream and bia cravings.
I knew that this moment would come but I didn’t think it would happen so soon. He was already 96 years old so I knew he would've died knowing that he's had such a long life. However, I also thought he would die peacefully. Instead, last last spring while I was slaving over finals, he came down with a stroke. Half of his body was paralyzed. I was so used to the idea of him dancing in my house whenever we nhau-ed and karaoked, pushing his walker slowly through the hallway, and grinning as he took down his 4 beers a day. So when this happened, it was such a shocker to me. It really pained me that I didn’t really get to know him. I mean, 96? He must have the craziest stories to tell and I don’t even know one. I know his mannerisms, his behavior, his personality, but I don't know his story for shit.
It wasn’t till later when I met up with Gerard for our service learning office hours that I realized that I honestly needed to start learning more about my family history. We talked about possible research projects and he offered me the chance to uncover my family's history before 1954 and after. It really struck a chord with me. I mean, when else am I gonna get the chance to be in Vietnam and to talk to my family members? Even though I’m really upset with myself for not being in the States with my family during such a time, I know my grandpa would’ve wanted me to be in Vietnam connecting back to my roots. In a way, I'm making up for all the time that I didn't spend trying to understand my family.
In conclusion, Vietnam just got waaaaaay more personal, but its all good in the hood.
R.I.P. Grandpa. Van Thai Sinh or Hang Sinh. I’ll miss your smile, your dance moves, and your ice cream and bia cravings.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Service Learning: First week at Hoa Binh
Last Monday, Peter, Mai, Miki, and I started our Service Learning class at Hoa Binh (Peace) Thanh Xuan Village. It’s a nonprofit organization that works with young students who have been affected by Agent Orange or who have been diagnosed with Down Syndrome. Whether Agent Orange and their condition are connected, we cannot tell. After hearing stories of children who get extremely attached or who would randomly lash out on you, I was pretty scared the first day. I didn’t know what to expect.
However, when we got there it wasn’t too bad. For the first day, they just wanted us to play with the most “normal” students, meaning the ones that could still speak and maintain a normal conversation, But I could feel my linguistic incompetency coming in. After the usual questions that I could bust out in Vietnamese, I started getting shy and shutting up. I realized that I fail at making jokes with the students in Vietnamese. So I freaked out, got shy, and stopped talking.
It wasn’t till later when they let the students play outside that things became a little easier. I realized that we didn’t really have to talk to the students 24/7. We just kinda had to be in their presence and play with them. For many of them, that was exciting enough. For instance, one girl just really wanted to kick a ball back and forth for a whole hour. Soccer? I’m cool with that. Haha.
It wasn’t until the 2nd day of work did I realized how much communication was an issue. When we first got there, Peter and I had no clue where we were supposed to go or what we were supposed to do. So we decided to go to the main office. When we got there, we watched this scary fiasco unfold. The boss got angry at one of the teachers for not showing us how to do things on the first day. Then we watch the boss get angry and call her repeatedly on the phone. Then, when the teacher comes, she gets scolded. Peter and I just sat there quietly, kinda freaked out by it all.
After hanging out with the students for 3 hours in the exercise room, we tried helping by volunteering to wash dishes. When we got there, we didn’t realize that we would suck so much at doing it. Instead of teaching us how to do it, the people cooking just watched us do our thang. We tried asking if they could explain it to us but they brushed us off. Finally, Peter and I found a system for washing the dishes. After the older students came though, they looked at us and said that we didn’t clean it well enough. They proceeded to take all of our dishes and rewash them. Wow, it felt really demoralizing. We tried to suck it up and just left. :(
I think it was a reality check in terms of where we were coming from. Did they even want us to help wash dishes? Did they not teach us because we weren’t fluent in Vietnamese? Who knows. I think communicating to the staff and the children is going to be really difficult. Hopefully, the 2nd week will be better.
However, when we got there it wasn’t too bad. For the first day, they just wanted us to play with the most “normal” students, meaning the ones that could still speak and maintain a normal conversation, But I could feel my linguistic incompetency coming in. After the usual questions that I could bust out in Vietnamese, I started getting shy and shutting up. I realized that I fail at making jokes with the students in Vietnamese. So I freaked out, got shy, and stopped talking.
It wasn’t till later when they let the students play outside that things became a little easier. I realized that we didn’t really have to talk to the students 24/7. We just kinda had to be in their presence and play with them. For many of them, that was exciting enough. For instance, one girl just really wanted to kick a ball back and forth for a whole hour. Soccer? I’m cool with that. Haha.
It wasn’t until the 2nd day of work did I realized how much communication was an issue. When we first got there, Peter and I had no clue where we were supposed to go or what we were supposed to do. So we decided to go to the main office. When we got there, we watched this scary fiasco unfold. The boss got angry at one of the teachers for not showing us how to do things on the first day. Then we watch the boss get angry and call her repeatedly on the phone. Then, when the teacher comes, she gets scolded. Peter and I just sat there quietly, kinda freaked out by it all.
After hanging out with the students for 3 hours in the exercise room, we tried helping by volunteering to wash dishes. When we got there, we didn’t realize that we would suck so much at doing it. Instead of teaching us how to do it, the people cooking just watched us do our thang. We tried asking if they could explain it to us but they brushed us off. Finally, Peter and I found a system for washing the dishes. After the older students came though, they looked at us and said that we didn’t clean it well enough. They proceeded to take all of our dishes and rewash them. Wow, it felt really demoralizing. We tried to suck it up and just left. :(
I think it was a reality check in terms of where we were coming from. Did they even want us to help wash dishes? Did they not teach us because we weren’t fluent in Vietnamese? Who knows. I think communicating to the staff and the children is going to be really difficult. Hopefully, the 2nd week will be better.
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