Catch up

I am now at home in Vermont, but wanted to update the blog and tell you a little about our last few days in Vietnam.

6/15 Before leaving Dong Ha we went to the CPI office to say thank you and farewell. This is taken from my journal: " I felt the closing with the CPI staff was important and letting them know how much we appreciated their time with us. Chi recorded most of our final visit, including Chris singing his signature Vietnamese song. I am sure we will see it on the website. Our group sang "Old MacDonald" one last time. It was so great to be with the CPI staff the past couple of days and make the connection between us stronger. I feel like now I have a greater understanding of the organizaton on a whole because I have seen the support that they are able to give to victims and their families. I have now met those families and feel honored to have heard their stories."

6/16 We traveled to Ha Noi today after saying good bye to the hotel family and all the wonderful people who took care of us there. When we landed in Ha Noi the first thing we did was go and eat Pho, a speciality. It is noodle soup with pork that stews in a bug cauldron for hours. It was an experience just as all our food consumption here has been. Ha Noi is a whole new world compared to Hue. Much bigger and busier streets. A few of us walked around and saw an old Catholic Churth that was build in the beginning of the French occupation of Vietnam. We played soccor with some kids on the street outside the church all the while dodging motor bikes and other various vehicles.

6/17 We were able to visit the Friendship Village this morning, which was long anticipated. It is an organization and community that works with children and veterans who suffer disabilities, both physical and mental, that are a direct affect from contamination of Agent Orange. Our visit there was so wonderful! It is amazing to see a community that has pulled together their resouces in the best way possible to serve their benificiaries to the best of their ability

In the afternoon we went to see the Water Puppets. In order to fully understand this, please ask the people you know who went on this trip, it is difficult to put it in words for this.

6/18 It is my birthday in Vietnam! The group through me a great party and i was able to spend the morning with Ho Chi Minh at his moseleum! I was fantastic!

6/19 10 am we send Jill and Angie off to Cambodia
12:40 pm We begin our journey home

A morning with MAG

Day two in Dong Ha. This rural setting has changed some of our morning habits: Dave can’t get up at 5 to hit the badminton scene, people aren’t running back from quick communiqué via the internet, and no sweet French morning pastries. Here we wake up and march into the day like soldiers: 7 am sharp, quiet round tables, and the simple hardiness of eggs, a small baguette, and an inch of thick and very black coffee. It does the trick and we file into the van dispatched to our first morning stop back at the CPI office. Today, we will be with their neighbors and peers in landmine work - MAG (Mines Advisory Group -- www.mag.or.uk).

The JSC group shuffles into a small room garnished with few maps and plenty of three-ring binders. The uniformed worker, Cliff, introduces himself: a former long-time British military engineer who now heads up MAG’s mine removal efforts in Vietnam. He is direct and succinct as he explains MAG’s work, which delays some of the shock of his words: “There is easily one UXO or landmine accident a week”, “There were just 2,000 American mines cleared from Gio Lihn”, “Five mines found this week, and it’s just Tuesday”, “We can find 900 pieces in one day at a metal scrap yard”. He answers our questions, and each group member seems to have one or two -- funding, personal reasons, clarifications. He is not patronizing us, and explains everything in detail and frankness.

In a pause, he moves our discussion to the hallway to show us shelves that display many of MAG’s educational souvenirs from 30 or more years ago. It is staggering, the malevolent genius that designs, manufactures, and utilizes these weapons. Necessity is the mother of invention, but war necessitates such a loss of humanity to those involved. Mind boggling to think about, and draws my sympathies to all involved in conflicts. When talking of landmines, Cliff makes the point to say they were designed to maim and demoralize, but not kill. All three categories are covered now in the civilians and beneficiaries we have been meeting.
We are behind now, and so hurriedly head off to visit some MAG mine removal teams in action. The first stop is at a site in a rice field and farming area. The roads to get there are so rough we abandon the van and are shuttled, high speed, in Cliff’s vehicle. Once there, we get a close up view of tedium: crystal clear procedure, basic and simple equipment, methodological sweeping and probing inch by inch and foot by foot -- each worker wearing the dense uniform of caution. The second stop still has us all shaking our heads -- a schoolyard that MAG has finally been allowed on because the children are on summer break. They found 14 pieces just doing the day long exploratory assessment, and 8 since then. By the time we arrived at 11 am, the team had three newly discovered UXO’s lined up: two active mortar shells and one Vietnamese grenade with the fuse clearly and chillingly visible. The school was build post-war on a dump of sorts, and now was a playground of sand, hiding the danger by just .5 meters. Needless to say, we walked directly in the footsteps of our guides at this point, and hurriedly retreated to sidewalk when the orientation was finished.

6-9-05 - In some ways an ending, in some a beginning

First I would like to apoligize for this Blog being posted late, for some reason it was not posted when I did do it. We are in Quan Tri now and I am reposting this at Clear Path Internationals office.
Today (Thursday 6-9-05) was another long day. We woke up early in the morning and caught breakfast same place as usual, in the first floor of our great inn. At 7:30 we were off to the Blind Association to finish our last day of labor work there. When we got there our mission was set out. Some were to weed the front grounds of the establishment, while another team was to dig a sports hole for equipment that would later be installed. We had some help from three of our interpreters which was great as well. Thanks guys!! Another hot day as usual, we all sweated together as we turned the front lawn brown and dug deep for the hole. This was a sad moment for some, being not only the last labor project for the Blind Association but also this is the last day of real labor work for the rest of the trip. We said our goodbyes to everyone there but we were not worried, for we will be seeing them the next day when we are marketing products for them in the morning.
We returned to the hotel to get ready for the afternoon portion of the day. We ate a great lunch as always, and instead of people taking the usual rest, we instead bought supplies and then planned what we were going to do for the last day of teaching both at the Children's House and saddest of all the Street Children house. We got all of our gifts together, balloons, candies, pens, toys, drinks, and other various items and set off at 1:45. We arrived at the Childrens House and began our activities. It was a light session. We started with games for the first leg of it and then we ended with conversation which we had to move inside because it started raining on us. We said our goodbyes to the kids at the Childrens House, exchanging email adresses and offering them to get in touch with us any time they felt fit for any reason at all. We were off to the Street Children's House.
We arrived to slight dissapointment for some. It was great to see those who reside there as always, but most of the children that did not live at the Street Children House were not there because the day before they had not attended and they were not aware that we were there for our last day. It was after all their summer vacation at this point. We had a great time nonetheless. It was an incredibly emotional time. The head mother of the house gave a speech that almost brought tears to many of our eyes. Some exchanged words and then we played with the children giving them all our gifts. They did not open one candy wrapper, they did not rink their Vinamilks, they only played with the Hug A Planets, beachballs and balloons we had given them. It seemed as though they were saving those things to savor the moment. It is hard to say what kind of impact we had on these childrens lives. All I can say is that they had an incredible impact on mine and made me see things more clearly than I ever thought possible. Their laughter brought me so much joy, and their respect for their teachers was incredible. Some of them may not have a father or mother figure, some of them may not have someone to play with or give them undivided attention when they go back to their homes, especially the ones who resided at the school house. For them, the hour and a half a day during the week that we had with them, was their time, their time to shine. The time we spent with them for me was priceless and beautiful beyond what words can explain at this point in time. Only two of my boys showed for the day, which was sad but we had fun. They seemed very grateful for what we had for them and what we did with them. I was very sad for having to leave. I have the reassurance of knowing that I may see them again when I return next year. Before leaving we exchanged hugs, and with other children other than my own students with whom I made connections with. I was close to tears but fought it back. I hope that these children grow up to have beautiful lives, lives reflecting the beautiful nature of their persons. Children of this age are the ones most affected by landmines and UXO. Children that come from poorer families, collect scrap metal to sell off for quick money. This is one of the most common reasons why there are deaths and injuries, also Bombis look like fun balls to play with and children are quick to do so, not knowing the consequences of their actions. This is one of the connections I made, I hope to God none of them have to deal with it, but they are in that age category, living near the DMZ, in one of the most infected areas for mines/UXO. My prayers go out for a brighter day.
So it was the ending of our teaching that we worked hard for, and the ending of our last labor project while here in Vietnam, but also the beginning of the last leg of the trip, and the beginning of absorbing what we did, and digesting it, trying to reflect upon it is now the big task.

"You say...I only hear what I want to..."

Today was our last full day in Hue, before leaving for Quang Tri Provence tomorrow morning. We began our day the usual way, trying to decide what to have for breakfast, then stuffing ourselves and sat back for the day to begin. We did not truly realize what the morning was going to hold in store for us, until a SUV pulled up and out got a man from the US State Department. He had been in Quang Tri visiting with CPI and wanted to meet with our group to hear about what students are doing in terms of mine action. After a few questions about us...he went right into what his department does in terms of mine action. To make a long, upset-stomach-feeling story shorter, we had a rude and quick awakening of America at 8am in Vietnam. We were not at all pleased with the conversation and many had a tightness in their chests following the conversation with this official rep. Afterwards, having not expected this at all, we were floored and angry! What a strange way to begin our last hours in Hue and a crazy feeling in our political spirits of thoughts we have all the time in the States, but have put aside for a bit while being here.

The day was spent preparing for our going away party in the evening with all our partners we have worked with while in Hue. The group wrapped gifts, shopped in the market for flowers and decorated the roof of the hotel for the event.

The party was grand! At first a bit formal: Angie welcomed our guests, including the government HUFO partner who is responsible for supporting our group's presence this year in Vietnam. Her speech was given through interpretation, thanks to Nhi and stories of leaches and other crazy bugs had the crowd laughing. The director of HUFO spoke, as well as Martha from CPI.

This purpose of the formality of the party was for our group to be able to show our appreciation to the people we have worked with here in Hue and to HUFO who has supported our work here in Vietnam. The Vietnamese truly value positive relationships they make and I think that we were able to convey to them that we will hold the relationships we have have been a part of here in our memories of our experience in Vietnam.

After the formal gift giving and thank-yoga, we ate the wonderful food that the hotel prepared especially for the party. There was music and conversation. The student interpreters gave us gifts and their addresses to write to them. One of the students, Ngoc said to me, "It is amazing...when I look around the room I think of the first day we met. Look at all the friendships and sincere smiles now!" This was so sweet to hear and definitely true. We have made friends here and have appreciated working side by side with the Vietnamese people.

When the formal guests left we exchanged more gifts with the student interpreters and said our farewells, after sharing some G-Love music and a little dancing.

It is difficult to count this as a party without some sort of entertainment...so when it was just us on the roof of the hotel...a familiar thing happened. Angie put on music she could dance and lip-sink too. The selection was Lisa Lobe, and when Angie's mouth began to move to the words, the roof of the Hung Vuoung Inn transformed. The owner came out dancing with his crutches and Angie began..." You say...I only hear what I want to.." I think you know the rest.

Kareoke...an old Vietnamese favorite

Today was Friday and as our days in Hue are dwindling down we take a step back and look at what we have done, been through, and come out of all in one piece.

This morning we worked with the blind association helping to solicit handmade goods to local hotels and shops. Offering up toothpicks, chopsticks, and business cards for the massage services. It was a spectacle for the locals to gaze upon. Imagine, if you will, being a shop keeper and having three sweaty, white americans, three interpreters, and a representative for the blind students all rolling up on various transportation vehicles and asking you to purchase some toothpicks. How could you say no? Exactly, hence we sold half the product given to us that morning, not too bad for some green salespeople.

After lunch we were off to party, party, party. We went as a whole group for an hour stay at the childrens center where we said our goodbyes to the teens. We celebrated our newly made friendships with our newly learned game "Palm the weasel" and sang for the last time (fingers crossed) our anthem of "Lean on Me."

Then a brisk bike ride to the street childrens house. Our baskets brimming with various gifts for all the children we have come to love so dear. The afternoon was filled with eating candies, playing games, tossing hug-a-planets around, and singing songs. Caroline was a life saver with temporary tattoos and before you knew it our time at the street house was over. Taking an extra long time loading up our bags and getting on our bikes, our goodbyes were stretched all the way up the driveway, but we finally said our last goodbye.

We musn't end on a sad note though because we were quickly whisked away by the interpreters off for one last meal of fried pancakes and then to Kareoke. Yes you heard it right, kareoke. And this is not your normal bar full of onlookers this is a place that climb flights of stairs to the top of a building and get your own private room. Complete with AC, a leather couch, non-alcoholic drinks, and of course a personal kareoke set. The group sang their hearts out to a wickedly late hour of 11pm. Singing such american classics as Summer nights, If I had a hammer, and many songs by Barbara Streisand who seems to have a strong following here in 'Nam.

It was a great ending to our stay in Hue.

The 8th of June

This was written by tess, but published by jill
We wanted to give credit to the author!
This morning we worked at a school for blind kids. The same place that many of the group got massages at in the beginning of our stay in Hue. Split into a fewsmall teams, members from our group worked alongside the blind students. Some sorted straw and bamboo that they use to make toothpicks and chopsticks. Another group moved some roofing materials around. I worked in a line movingheavy rocks. Dave was at the front and he handed them to me, and then I passedthem down the line. A couple of blind student worked next to us. At first I was nervous that someone would get hurt, since the students were blind and wedid not speak the same language. Once we were taught how to say big and smallin Vietnamese it went smoothly. This way the blind person would know what toexpect when being handed a rock. Overall the work went well and we got a lotaccomplished. As most things go here in Hue, Vietnam I sweat like it was my job and today was no exception. I think that the Vietnamese are prettyunderstanding when it comes the amount that most of us sweat. In the afternoonwe taught. Some people went shopping after work while others just cooled downin their rooms.

Manifest Intent at the Teen Center

We were off to an early start today. After a quick breakfast we headed out to the emerging teen center to continue our efforts. Galen and I assumed our places at the brick-slinging station. Our job consisted of placing bricks in baskets, hauling them from point A to point B, then latching the baskets to a pulley system that transported them to the top floor. I actually found the work quite satisfying. There is something to be said for using the sheer strength of your body to attain a tangible ends. The effort of my muscles becomes a place where kids can learn and recreate in. It is a way of transfering internal processes to the external environment, like art, a simple yet amazing alchemy. It is a way of manifesting intent. The engagement of the flesh somehow makes the service more complete, not a mere exercise of the mind, but grounded in the earth as well. It had a certain meditative quality. It slows me down, allows my mind to clear. It was also a way to really be with the Vietnamese people around me. Perhaps we could exchange only limited words, but we grew a natural sort of intimacy that can only be achieved through shared sweat and labor.
Later that evening we experienced a crazy flash flood that bears mentioning. In what seemed like a matter of moments, a seemingly benign rain storm ecscalted into a full-fledged city emergency. The streets were filled with about a foot and a half of water. The people of Hue seemed largely unphased by the situation. Children splashed around in the filthy waves. Mother and fathers quietly walked there bikes home. Cyclo drivers donned tarps and sought customers completely undaunted. One fellow fished an eel out of the murky depths. The mood was generally quite cheery, people smiling and laughing. It was a break from the usual routine, the kind that awakens one to life's spectacle, and to the grace of having one another's company in this mad adventure.
The lower floor of our hotel is a restaurant that is completely open to the road on one side. The high water mark was essentially exactly level with the floor of the hotel, having swallowed the front steps. As if by divine providence, the flood did not rise that last fateful inch. Meanwhile, we all sort of took the cue of the locals and calmly finished our supper by candlelight (the power went out as well). It was one part fiddling while Rome burned, and one part romantic lakeside dining. Somehow the lack of panic seemed utterly normal. I think the Vietanmese spirit possessed me at that moment. Somehow it seemed as if we were all in this together, a peaceful resignation, a genuinely felt sense of community. Not the community we yammer on about in cliched sermons, but the real kind that develops after years of struggle and quietly plodding on. The sense of knowing exactly what is important, and knowing exactly how much the human spirit can take. It reminds me of a Joyce quote, "Go on loving, it's your only revenge."

Orange Dust

Well, another eventful day. We awoke early to meet for breakfast at 6:30 for 7 am departure to the work site of a teen center being built in Hue. Upon arrival we load and unload heavy orange bricks, about five pounds each, that are hulled up flights of being constructed walls, or wheeled from the tiny mountains of surplus piling bricks to neat organized structures where the bricklayers can reach them with convenient ease. Some of us pick and shovel at the clay like dirt, triumphantly with hope for making a long foot deep trench along side the building. This is a morning of intense physical labor. While our clothes are drenched with sweat and carpeted with orange dust, our muscles are screaming and our minds are meditating. After working hard all morning we leave the work site at 11 to return to the hotel for showers and lunch. Following is an hour or two of sleep and R+R for most. After, some of us go to the high school to teach English to the summer students who want to learn more about American culture and improve their English. They are eager to learn American songs so we teach them to sing “Up on the Roof Top” which they learn quickly. At 3:30 we teach at the street children’s house until five. Today was a testing day for my class on questions like “How are you? What is your name? How old are you?” and their reciprical responses. After we break and return to the hotel we have a group builder comprised of stuffing and sewing ‘Hug a Planets’ to be handed out as gifts later in our trip. This is a calm peaceful time upon the roof of the hotel as the dusk descends and the techno music radiates from the street below. “Have any stories Jill?” someone asks. Jill seriously responds “Yes…actually,” after we laugh. The story unfolds as she explains a conversation she had with a local reporter who came to interview us that day while we were working at the teen center. The Vietnamese newswoman commented on how much dirt and filth was on our pants. Jill had laughed and said something along the lines of ‘yes we’re dirty’ when she noticed the woman’s lip was trembling. “It just makes me so happy…no words can explain…” the woman replied before breaking down in tears of happiness. We silently listened to Jill’s story, I think all of us felt both a bit surprised and humbled by the account.
After our Hug a Planet party up on the roof, we’re all starving and craving nourishment. Nhi takes us to a Vietnamese style sports bar where we get French fries with garlic and hot pots, one filled with tofu/vegetables and the other with seafood. The place is a scene of entertainment as we walk in to a long table of about 20 drunken Vietnamese men watching the home football team (soccer to us) play a game on TV. With mirth and song, they raised their glasses and cheered loudly. Ten minutes after we were seated for dinner, their group changes tables so the waitresses can pick up the array of Huda and Tiger beer bottles scattered on the floor. Once at a fresh new table, we watched as the beer bottles pile up again on the floor by their feet.
Following dinner everyone dispersed for the night, some to get shakes from our favorite shake restaurant, some to check email and some to bed. I checked my email and walked back to the hotel where Nhi was sitting on the steps outside. “Want to go for a drive?” she asks me. Though I am physically tired from the long day, its still only 8:30 and going for a drive on her bike sounds fun. We drive past the Citadel where people are playing sports and games in the field, and past Forbidden City, whose presence feels different to me now then when I had been there a few days earlier in the day. Dark, deserted and seemingly haunted, I imagine what it was like two centuries ago when the king and royal court would have filled the place with life. We drive through the streets to Nhi’s brothers house. It’s nice and her family is very hospital as we sit in her living room drinking water and sipping homemade frozen yogurt (yum!) I meet Nhi’s niece who, as it is explained to me, took her senior examination today, a very big deal for a Vietnamese. This exam will greatly determine the course of her life and because of its pivotal importance everyone in the family calls for support. “She’s born the same year as you!” Nhi says sitting next to me on the couch. We both smile shyly at each other as Nhi translates bits of conversation for me with her family. However, despite the enjoyed company and time, it’s weighed on a sad note: one of the family dogs was poisoned and killed earlier that day. When Nhi’s husband, Hugh, arrives I ask him why someone would poison their dog. “They poison dogs with rat poison and steal the carcass for meat to serve at restaurants…Something’s,” he says, “I don’t like about Vietnam.” I nod thinking how much I like tofu.

Sunday - A Day of Rest

Sunday, sunday--our rest day. This is the day we normally don't have any scheduled activities, work or otherwise. Still, most of us found it impossible to rest and relax. There is so much history in Hue, the city and the landscape are beautiful, and we will have seen only a fraction of it by the time we leave. So, we take each opportunity to witness its magnificence while we can. Despite the slow but steady modern development of the city into a tourist hot-spot, much of the ancient architecture and traditions are visibly intact.

Two groups set out into the country to tour pagodas and garden-houses. Chris, Dave, Galen, and Trinh (an economics lecturer and one of the local volunteers we have worked with) visited some of the oldest sites: Theravada pagodas (traditional Buddhist monasteries), and elaborate garden-houses (with pineapple, coconut, and banana trees as well as ponds filled with lotus flowers in bloom. These garden houses still serve as home to some--can you imagine?
Meanwhile, Tess, Trista, Caroline, and Tara visited pagodas, tombs, and lastly an American bunker. At one of the sites they posed for a priceless photo wearing traditional Vietnamese dress.
Elsewhere, Celine and I were headed for disaster. We headed to the market to "window-shop" and take pictures of things that we could not explain by words alone. We took plenty of interesting pictures but were spotted by someone who knew our group. She led us to her shop and in the midst of conversation she deftly turned to business. Before Celine and I knew what was happening she had a crew dressing us and fanning us and trying to sit us down. We were laughing hysterically watching one another be twirled into one outfit and the next. This is not uncommon--the Vietnamese in Hue are entrepenurial beyond belief. A young boy tried to shoe-shine my Teva-like sandals yesterday. The tenacity of a vendor is formidable, and my transactions usually end in disbelieving laughter. When we left the market we were without enough money to buy even a watermelon and each had instead a lovely pair of pants.
On our way back to the hotel we met Jill who had been held captive by a stubborn computer and faulty disk all morning. Budgeting is a Zen-art apparently and Jill & Angie are devout artists--Buddha bless them. It was, however, a very hot day and high-time for most of us to head to the beach. Tara and Caroline were already there. Tess went with Ha, Loan, and Quyen (three of our saintly volunteer student interpreters from Hue University) while Angie, Jill, Celine, and I rented the most competitive motor-scooter drivers in Vietnam; arriving in one piece was a blessing as was the cool Pacific salt-water. Swimming and basking in the sun made it worth the race home in the dark, which Jill's driver won, by the way. Kudos to Jill and her crazy speed hawk.

Photos Added

... to the CPI site (www.cpi.org), and will be located in the slide show.

The Rehabilitation Center

Toady we traveled to a Rehabilitation Center for Disabled Children. The disabilities ranged from children who had down syndrome and mental retardation to children who were born with a debilitating disease like cerebral palsy. The center works with the children for up to three months on their ability level. Things that are offered to the children are schooling if they are age appropriate, physical therapy and tasks to help them further develop mentally. We toured the center, and spent time with the children in each room. The first room had mostly younger children, some with down syndrome and others with CP. The second room that we visited had older children who all had mental retardation. They were working in their school books, the wall covered with their art work. The last building that we visited was made up of two rooms, and was once again mostly younger children with CP or severe mental retardation. So many beautiful, precious babies. A lot of the children's mothers were there with them, and seemed to enjoy the extra attention that their child was receiving. We spent the morning hanging out with the children, trying to give them all one on one attention. We had some stuffed animals that we brought in from the states that we handed out, as well as some candy for the children to enjoy. There were so many cute faces. We all wanted to take them home. While we were there, a local lady came to interview some of us. Afterwards, we headed back to the hotel for lunch.

In the afternoon, we split into two groups. We were given the choice of visiting a landmine victim survivor that was in the hospital or one that was at their home. Chi and Toan from Clear Path International met us at the hotel to bring us to the survivors. Chi took a group to the hospital while Toan took her group to the home of the survivor. I went with Chi to the hospital. There we met a 13 year old boy who was in a landmine accident in March of this past year and a 22 year old who's accident just happened in May. The young boy lost both of his legs below the knee and one of his arms in the blast. He was with his father, visiting a family member when his father instructed him to take food out to his mother who was still working in the field. He brought food out to her and on his way back, he saw a shiny piece of metal.

Addendum to the Poem

The poem below was written at the urging of Galen Dickstein, as we wondered what to do to capture the sweet anguish of being lost on our way to the work project of the morning. The rest of the group made it to the Thuy Xan Children's House to "weed the center's garden". From what I understand, this was a vigorous and dirty digging project done in blazing heat. But the school was absolutely beautiful, and is again, a place that we would like to expand our relationship with next year, after spilling the drops of sweat on their soil.

Meanwhile, Galen and I were riding our bikes for 2 hours trying to find the group. When we thought we did, but then didn't at all, we sat in the silence and Galen began to sketch the desolate, but beautiful view in front of us. She encouraged me to write in my journal, or an accompanying poem. I sat in sweat for the first 10 minutes, working out our chances of survival if all we had were the contents of my bike basket: 2 bags of chewy candy for the kids, 1 liter of water, and 2 machetes. In my carry bag, I also had a melted piece of gum, the emergency contact list for the group, my journal, and 20 dollars. I counted our chances of survival as high, so I was finally able to write.

We all reunited at the hotel for lunch, dirty, tired, and sweaty from our various labors. Sickness is tapering off in the group, so we are starting to be represented in our entirety at meals and work. Nhi was so excited by this that she led a round of 3 toasts.

The early afternoon was spent as usual... in preparation for teaching our kids and recovering from the morning exposure. FYI, each day begins at about 7 for breakfast, showing up at our project by 8. We work until 11, get back to the hotel for lunch at 11 or 11:30. 12:30 - 3 is spent doing prep and recovery, and then from 3-5:30 we are with the street kids. When we come home from that, we usually gather as a group for a reflection or a group builder. Then dinner at 7, and home again by 8:30. Depending on energy levels, members of the group then go to internet cafes, browse the shopping, chill out downstairs or outside, or go to their rooms to watch a parade of horrible 80's HBO movies. Usually the last option is the most dangerous: plot lines with evil robots or Kurt Russell or dragons can create rather fitful night's rest.

Anyway, four members of our group went earlier to a new project - teaching English culture at the Children's House. This group of students (about 20) have been exposed to English longer and more extensively, so they are less about the alphabet and more about music, folk stories, and other cultural influences of the U.S. Smaller off shoots of our group will be alternating work with these students for all of next week... amazingly enough this will be our last week in Hue. Next Sunday, we'll head to Quong Tri to work more directly with Clear Path at their offices. When we get back from that stint, we'll head back up to Hanoi in preparation to come home. Meanwhile, we will continue to work with the street kids on their ABCs and numbers. Dave Whitaker was the genius of today... the got his kids playing a version of twister with numbers and the ABCs. Got some fine pictures of that flash of brilliance. The rest of us continue to work on in our various groups... three of us and two Vietnamese student interpreters work with groups of kids varying from 15-35. We've divided up the kids according to their grade, which doesn't necessarily match their age. They continue to just thrill us and break our hearts with their earnest, eager, and loving nature. We've made name tags for them, and one young boy asked Nhi if he could take his off to bathe... "but then I'll put it right back on, I promise. And I will sleep with it here, over my heart, and wear it back to school."

Angie and I led a quick discussion before dinner, about our work as a group and as individuals, and then we were off to our night plans (see above). Each day presents a challenge for growth as a group and as a person... even to the point of being overwhelmed or exhausted. Thanks to all who write comments on the blog. We are encouraged by it all, and grateful to have a chance to share and process this experience with our circles of support.

Poetry While Lost

Poetry to the Lost and Directionless

It all begins with such little mishaps

Forgotten water, broken bike chains, or a brief judgmental lapse

Suddenly now you are just a bit behind

Wondering if you will be found or will find

The group which is your umbilical cord

(Except for during lunch – conversation gets us bored)

Your lifeline, your crutch, your everything

The group which you’d stand in front of 1,000 to sing.

Anyway, such was the experience of Galen and I

On the second of June, not the second of July.

Two minutes into our ride to the morning project site

Galen’s chain just slipped off, to her non-delight.

So she pulled over and Jill followed after

And both engaged in a short burst of resigned laughter.

Then shouting ahead for the group to go on

They walked the bike back to Mr. Hoang.

A quick exchange for a sweet blue beauty

(That rides a little high and makes a sore booty)

And off they were again to catch the group,

Riding the Lei Loi, a familiar street loop.

But then, once passed the familiar street kids house

There was no JSC sighting, not even a mouse.

So we pulled out the brilliant yellow itinerary

(Some may mistake it for a flattened bright canary.)

And began our quest, by asking for directions

From the slew of drivers, pedestrians, and men who give inspections

If you had a tag or a uniform on

We’d show you the address, you’d point, we’d say “cam on”

This was the way

We covered all of Hue.

We found out indeed, that Vietnam has mountains

And that Galen and I both contain inner sweat fountains.

Back and forth, right and left

We did it until we felt completely bereft.

We went back to Le Loi and hired one of the first asked drivers

To guide us straight to Thuy Xan as bedraggled survivors.

And thus began our Tour de France training-

The way we were sweating, people thought it was raining.

He, ahead, on his fast moto scooter

Was going with such speed, he seemed a fleeing looter

We pedaled furiously up Mt. Hue

Looking sometimes to see if the other was okay

Taking a very (20 minutes off course) wrong turn

Made our hearts (and Galen’s neck) with vengeance begin to burn.

But at last, here we were, one last huge hill

I slapped my own face wondering it if was real.

We paid the driver and said a French farewell

And then dragged our bikes through this last step of heck.

The group would be cheering! Rejoicing our arrival!

No doubt that most, nay many, had doubted our survival!

But the further up the hill, and closer to the place

The quieter it got, the sparser the human face.

And then we saw the schoolyard, desolate as any—

Where there were few, there should have been many.

Greeted only by a beautiful vista and a danger sign

We were finally lost, but found, at half past nine.

So here we sit, no voices stirring, to capture the scene

And shortly ride back home—what adventure this has been.

Photos and a Slideshow

We've sent a bunch of photos to our friends at Clear Path International (where the blog is also being published). Check there (www.cpi.org) for some visuals of all the stories up to this point! We'll be sending in photos to build a slide show, as well as photos which compliment the entries. Thanks to James Hathaway at CPI for his work!