Vietnam Team Is Back Home With Lots Of Memories

– October 18, 2010

Editor’s Note: You can see, hear and read more about this great adventure here.

Our van raced down the center of the narrow two lane highway, scattering scooters to our left and right as our driver tried to coax the slower truck in front of us out of the way with his horn. The truck driver swayed to his right enough for us to squeeze by just as an oncoming van pulled off an equally tricky maneuver. Where for a moment there had been four vehicles, not to mention dozens of bicycles and scooters, on a collision course there was once again peace, or at least everyone was back in his or her own lane. However, this only lasted until we reached the next slow truck in our path and the world was again thrust into chaos.

One of the first things I learned about Vietnam is that it’s better not to look forward when you’re in a vehicle. Red lights and lanes seem to be mere suggestions and the bravery of school children on bicycles is only surpassed by the fearlessness displayed by their pedestrian counterparts. So far, as best as I can tell, there is only one traffic law here – Yield to the larger vehicle. And yet, despite all the honking and close calls, no one seems to get angry as we quickly would in America, and more importantly accidents seem fairly uncommon.

As I contemplated the inner workings of the Vietnamese transportation system we turned off Highway 1 which runs from Hanoi in the North to Saigon in the South. We were traveling from Da Nang farther into the Quang Nam province. Driving through the narrow roads lined with dozens of small shops I was reminded of another aspect that has defined my experience with Vietnamese culture. From our first day in Hanoi it has struck me that in Vietnam life is lived on the street. In Hanoi’s markets the fruits, vegetables, meats, scarves, pots, fans, jewelry, shoes and flowers push outward, reaching their colorful arms as close to the street and potential customers as they can manage. But the streets aren’t just where the people try to earn a few Dong, the Vietnamese currency valued at 19,400 Dong to one American dollar, it is also where they cook, eat, and wash. The small coal stoves sit on the curb while the women cook rice, soup, vegetables, and meat. Once the cooking is finished, young or old, they sit on tiny red or blue chairs around tiny red or blue tables to eat. And after the meal is finished the gutters run with the dishwater and little scraps of food. While the first thing I noticed in the local markets were the smells and unsanitary conditions, I quickly notice something else too. In Vietnam the streets form a community.

However, as we drove deeper into Quang Nam and left the urban bustle behind us, the streets found another use. In rural areas life revolves around agriculture. Especially rice, but also corn, morning glories, squash, bananas and pretty much everything else is grown in their swampy fields. The streets become a nice flat, sunny place to dry the rice and corn. At one point the rice was laid out on a blue tarp that stretched out across the road. Our driver came to a complete stop, something that usually only occurs if he’s not behind the steering wheel, until two impossibly old ladies hopped out of the way and waved us on. We drove over their drying rice, but they didn’t seem to mind.

With the last of the rice roadblocks behind us I was free to enjoy the landscape which has also captivated me throughout the trip. We drove along a road raised about three feet above rice fields which extended in both directions for hundreds of yards until they disappeared into the tree line. The green or brown fields, depending on whether or not they had been harvested, formed a patchwork design. Here and there workers in traditional Nón lá hats, water buffalo, ducks, chickens and cranes punctuated the landscape. And in the distance dark green mountains, growing larger as the morning mist burned off, framed the scene. Whether it is the open fields hemmed in by distant mountains, the dense vegetation near one of ROW’s Compassion homes, or the endless blue ocean near our hotel the land here really is beautiful.

Finally, as we reached our destination I forgot all about the traffic, markets, and landscape as I looked at forty tiny kindergarteners devouring their bowls of rice and soup for lunch. Our group was following up on the recent construction of a kindergarten funded by ROW in 2009 for $9,200. The director, an enthusiastic man of about forty, told us that since the construction enrollment had increased from about 14 to over forty. He led the class in a couple songs and what could only have been the Vietnamese version of Simon Says. We had the opportunity to look around the facility which included a classroom, bathroom, and kitchen. All very well cleaned and organized. After taking some photographs and video we lead them in the hokey pokey.

Without a doubt my most enduring memories from this trip will be of the people. From the kindergarten class to the single mother for who we will help to build a home I have been blessed by the opportunity to meet them and help them. While we are here we are providing funds for tutoring, calculators, bicycles, shoes, washing machines, a house, food, computers, and more I know that the real impact of our trip will be intangible. In many ways the most important things we have done here has been to give people the opportunity to help themselves and show that even though we live 7,000 miles away we are still their neighbors.

Jason Aldridge
October 11, 2010