Last Saturday we organized an excursion for all of the students to visit some of the half-day school children in their homes located in the surrounding villages. We were in groups of about eight to ten and we all had a guide, who was one of the half-day school kids, and a Thai-English translator. I love visiting remote villages and speaking with people about their lives (I'm an anthropologist after all) so I anticipated it would be a very interesting day, but never did I expect to learn so much about statelessness and the ills that come along with it and what DEPDC is doing to protect, aid and empower stateless individuals.
First, what is statelessness? Well, the name says it all, but doesn't explain why it occurs or why it is a human rights issue. A stateless person is, quite simply, anyone who lacks citizenship to any country. A stateless person is not the same as an illegal immigrant. Many of the stateless children that DEPDC works with are in Thailand legally, but they are denied Thai citizenship because of their ethnicity. The reason this is an issue is because in our post-Westphalian political order (did I lose anyone with the political science jargon?) states are supposed to be the guarantors of rights. The state is supposed to act as the protector of a people's security and is supposed to grant certain services to the individual in exchange for taxes, military service, political loyalty, and so on. So, if there are groups of stateless people, they may not only lack basic services the state should provide, but they also lack a voice in the international community for the state is supposed to be the primary advocate for the people. Now, obviously this description of citizenship is obviously ideal and probably doesn't exist perfectly in any state, but stateless individuals have considerably fewer rights than those who enjoy citizenship. In Thailand, for example, Thai citizens receive free education and they get any healthcare procedure for very little money. However, stateless individuals must pay for public schooling and must pay the full price of healthcare. The inability of stateless persons to pay for schooling and healthcare contributes to a viscious cycle of poverty that is passed on from generation to generation without any government interference.
Who are these stateless people in Thailand? A child who is born to non-Thai citizens, even if they are born on Thai soil, is denied Thai citizenship. This applies to both Burmese refugees and the hilltribe people. So, the parents or grandparents may be Burmese citizens, but because they fled Burma their children lack Burmese citizenship and are denied Thai citizenship. Moreover, the hilltribe people, who have been a permanent fixture in Thailand are also denied citizenship and are issued work cards based on their tribe, granting them different levels of rights. Yes, this is blatant racism, keeping the hilltribe people and the Burmese refugees without education and healthcare and in a constant state of poverty.
So, this is the context in which we visited the villages and conversed with statless persons. My group was lucky in that we had two translators who are both staff members at DEPDC, so we got to see how the DEPDC responds to some of the situations we were witnessing. Our first stop was to visit a friend of our guide. The fourteen-year-old girl fled Burma only a few months ago and is living with her grandparents, since her parents are still in Burma. We soon found out that she hadn't been in classes for two weeks. Carole, one of our translators, said they had noticed that the girl had not been in school and had been wondering where she had went. The girl said she wanted to be in school but her grandfather would no longer allow her to attend the half-day school at DEPDC because she was old enough to be home working. Carole explained to us that soon staff members from the Child Help Line at DEPDC would come to the girl's house to discuss the situation with her grandparents. They would attempt to convince the grandparents that it is more valuable in the long run for the girl to be in school than to be working. This child is viewed as at-risk for trafficking because her grandparents are very poor and may resort to selling their granddaughter to work in Bangkok. However, if the staff at the Child Help Line can educate the grandparents of the dangers of sending their children away to work and can emphasize the benefits of eductaion perhaps the girl will not be sold or sent away. Honestly, it's one thing to read about these situations in books or scholarly journals and it's another to be confronted with it and see organizations working to combat the situation.
Next, we visited another student who is a Burmese refugee also living with her grandparents. The grandparents were incredibly thin and frail and both in their seventies. Despite this, they work as day-laborers, doing arduous physical work as it is available. They make at most 2,000 Baht per month, which is less than sixty dollars. Again, the staff members that we accompanied naturally did their job and told the couple that if they need assistance they should contact the DEPDC because the DEPDC can assist in many ways.
We visited a few other households, and we learned a lot more about the Thai school system and citizenship in Thailand, but I want to skip ahead to talk about the last house we visited. We trekked up a quite steep hill (in 100 degree heat, intense sun, and a blanket of humidity) to find out that the student was not at home. However, her grandmother invited us in anyway. This woman, over eighty years old, was very forthcoming about the toils of her life. First, her daughter was killed in a car crash and she was left to care for the child. Second, her son visits her only once a week, and she is therefore left to caring for her home alone. She does not have electricity or running water (she apologized several times for the heat for she could not have an electric fan). Moreover, she must go up and down a steep hill (longer than the one we climbed to reach her home) three times a day to carry up enough water for the day. Can you imagine a frail, undernourished 84-year-old woman trekking up and down a large hill three times a day lugging water for her personal use? Needless to say, we politely said we were not thirsty when she offered us some drinking water. I offered that we could go down and get some water for her, but she assured us that her son was coming that day, and he would gather some for her. I felt guilty being so relieved that I didn't have to do that arduous task in all that heat.
Well, that's a little glimpse of the issues of statelessness in Northern Thailand. The DEPDC provides schooling for hundreds of children that would otherwise not be able to attend school. The organization believes that it is best for children to stay at home if at all possible, but there are about thirty children who live in extremely high-risk situations and they reside at DEPDC. Moreover, the DEPDC has the Child Help Line which visits every child's home at least once every three months, or if the child's behavior radically changes, to asses the home situation and educate the parents or guardians. The Child Help Line also visits villages to see if there are children not attending school and then talks to the guardians about the free school at DEPDC. The DEPDC believes that education is key to preventing the trafficking of children and this motivates their wonderful and extensive work in the communities surrounding Mae Sai.
In case you are intrested, DEPDC accepts applications for long-term volunteer work (at least six months) and they also accept donations. In addition, they sell handicrafts made by the children and people living in the surrounding villages. You could visit www.depdc.org to learn more. Ok, enough of my little advertisement, thanks for reading.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Biking to the Top of the World!
I'm still shaking, just starting to feel the sunburn and not yet totally rehydrated, but I want to tell you all about the motorbike ride that I took today while the adrenaline is still pumping.
A bunch of us decided we would rent motorbikes and take a long ride through the mountains beyond Mae Sai. Danielle graciously said I could ride on the back of her motorbike. I know we both regretted that offer many times before we returned to Mae Sai four hours later.
First, as soon as I hopped on behind Danielle, we hit some gravel and skidded out, both of us splayed out on the street with our water bottles flying everywhere. (The laughter coming from the kids across the street was not appreciated!) Great way to start out the trip, right? So, I'm shaking with anxiety (thought not at all injured) as soon as we begin the trip. To make matters worse, I witnessed Danielle doing the same thing going up a hill the other day because she had to switch from first to second in the middle of the hill, and she lost control of the bike. So, already I'm thinking it's insane to go on a long ride through the hills, but the beauty of the mountains and the warm sun is far to enticing to give up now.
Almost immediately, we are faced with very intense hills. We were on a little motorbike, so the bike really had to work hard in first gear to be able to get up the hills. Twice I had to jump off the back of the slow-moving bike so that it'd be able to get up ok. What makes matters worse, the turns were sharp and winding. So, not only are we stressed about being able to get up these steep slopes, but we have to make sharp turns at a slow speed so that we don't tumble off the side of the mountain. The ride to the top was about two hours, and I really couldn't relax the entire time. Danielle, too, was very stressed about the situation.
All of that was worth it, though, when we reached the very top. Seriously, the very top. We could see down for miles around on both sides, and the road only went down behind us and in front of us. It was spectacular.
But, heading back and going back down seemed even more daunting than going up. Some of those slopes were so steep, I think even a car would have difficulty, not to mention the winding roads. But, we took it really slow going down (as Thai people are speeding past, waving). In fact, we took it so slow, that perhaps one of the worst imaginable things that could have happened did in fact happen....Yes, that's right...the breaks went out.
Now, it sounds far more dramatic than it was in actuality. First, we happened to be going down a comparably gentle slope. Second, there is a secondary foot break, so we were able to come to a gentle stop immediately. But still, the breaks gave out!
We flagged down three young Thai guys and mimed our situation to them. They immediately knew what the problem was and rode off to get some water in order to cool off the brakes. Apparently, we had overheated the breaks, causing them to fail. So, after about ten minutes, we were once again a bit shaken, but we had no choice but to continue (actually, at one point, we considered stopping one of the infrequent pickup trucks going by and hitching a ride with the bike in back, but the opportunity never came along). Yes, mom, we made it home safely without a scratch or a broken neck.
The trip down was actually much less nerve-wracking than the trip up, and I was able to enjoy myself more. However, I'm not going up into those mountains by bike again! In fact, I may be taking a break from the motorbikes in general for a while. After all, Zakcq is expecting me to come home in one piece in a month.
A bunch of us decided we would rent motorbikes and take a long ride through the mountains beyond Mae Sai. Danielle graciously said I could ride on the back of her motorbike. I know we both regretted that offer many times before we returned to Mae Sai four hours later.
First, as soon as I hopped on behind Danielle, we hit some gravel and skidded out, both of us splayed out on the street with our water bottles flying everywhere. (The laughter coming from the kids across the street was not appreciated!) Great way to start out the trip, right? So, I'm shaking with anxiety (thought not at all injured) as soon as we begin the trip. To make matters worse, I witnessed Danielle doing the same thing going up a hill the other day because she had to switch from first to second in the middle of the hill, and she lost control of the bike. So, already I'm thinking it's insane to go on a long ride through the hills, but the beauty of the mountains and the warm sun is far to enticing to give up now.
Almost immediately, we are faced with very intense hills. We were on a little motorbike, so the bike really had to work hard in first gear to be able to get up the hills. Twice I had to jump off the back of the slow-moving bike so that it'd be able to get up ok. What makes matters worse, the turns were sharp and winding. So, not only are we stressed about being able to get up these steep slopes, but we have to make sharp turns at a slow speed so that we don't tumble off the side of the mountain. The ride to the top was about two hours, and I really couldn't relax the entire time. Danielle, too, was very stressed about the situation.
All of that was worth it, though, when we reached the very top. Seriously, the very top. We could see down for miles around on both sides, and the road only went down behind us and in front of us. It was spectacular.
But, heading back and going back down seemed even more daunting than going up. Some of those slopes were so steep, I think even a car would have difficulty, not to mention the winding roads. But, we took it really slow going down (as Thai people are speeding past, waving). In fact, we took it so slow, that perhaps one of the worst imaginable things that could have happened did in fact happen....Yes, that's right...the breaks went out.
Now, it sounds far more dramatic than it was in actuality. First, we happened to be going down a comparably gentle slope. Second, there is a secondary foot break, so we were able to come to a gentle stop immediately. But still, the breaks gave out!
We flagged down three young Thai guys and mimed our situation to them. They immediately knew what the problem was and rode off to get some water in order to cool off the brakes. Apparently, we had overheated the breaks, causing them to fail. So, after about ten minutes, we were once again a bit shaken, but we had no choice but to continue (actually, at one point, we considered stopping one of the infrequent pickup trucks going by and hitching a ride with the bike in back, but the opportunity never came along). Yes, mom, we made it home safely without a scratch or a broken neck.
The trip down was actually much less nerve-wracking than the trip up, and I was able to enjoy myself more. However, I'm not going up into those mountains by bike again! In fact, I may be taking a break from the motorbikes in general for a while. After all, Zakcq is expecting me to come home in one piece in a month.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Mae Sai, Thailand
So after four flights, three (long!) layovers and a one hour bus ride, I made it to Mae Sai, finally! The town of Mae Sai is the northernmost city in Thailand, on the border of Burma. But, saying it's on the border of Burma really doesn't convey how close it is to Burma. Just a small river separates the two countries, and most of the town lies right on that river. I can see Burma from my hotel window and I walk past the border crossing on the way to the internet cafe. I still can't get over how so little separates the two countries. People even desperately swim across the river to Thailand in order to enter Mae Sai. Because of that, there are road blocks set up outside of Mae Sai to check the immigration status of all who want to leave the Mae Sai area. Also, I'm starting to realize how much Mae Sai's economy depends on the Burmese who cross the border (legally or illegally) everyday. For example, the street that my hotel is on contains a large, bustling market. However, by five o'clock in the evening, the market is absolutely dead. This is because the border closes at 5:30 and the workers all need to return to their homes by this time. Also, most (if not all) of the beggars in Mae Sai are Burmese who cross the border just for the day. In addition, goods are brought back and forth the border to sell at the markets. National borders always look so important marked by a big fat line on a world map, but in reality they are porous and can be almost irrelevant; people use them and live around them as though they do not hardly exist.
Now that I've said a bit about the town where I am living and working, I'll tell you a bit about what I am doing and the organization I am working with. I am here as a professor's assistant. There are nineteen students from Northeastern University and five students from Rutgers University in New Jersey who are earning university credits for the work they are doing here in Mae Sai. In addition, there are twenty-three women from all over Southeast Asia including Thailand, Burma, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam who are in the beginning of a three year program called Mekong Youth Net. These women spend the first year of their program at DEPDC (the organization we are working at) studying Thai or English and learning about issues related to human trafficking and the prevention thereof. During the second year they will go back to their home countries to do an internship with their sponsoring organization and to conduct research on a project. During the third year, they will write a report based on their research and they will report back to DEPDC periodically to touch base with this organization. These women were chosen because they are extremely intelligent and driven. They will be the future leaders of their communities and will be able to carry DEPDC's mission to prevent human trafficking back to their communities.
So, what are all these American's doing here? Well, a professor at Rutgers University started an organization called Global PACT a few years back. The mission of that organization is to teach young people to combat problems in their own communities. The Global PACT training involves intense small group work where the students actually develop an organization that works to combat a real problem. Global PACT's training fits in perfectly with the Mekong Youth Net's mission, so the two organizations decided to do the Global PACT training together. This is a very brief description, and I'll be sure to talk more about the training in later posts.
There have been many hurdles and barriers in the training so far, but it has been very rewarding, also. More on the trials and joys later. I am happy and healthy and loving Thailand and all of the people I have met. Cheers.
Now that I've said a bit about the town where I am living and working, I'll tell you a bit about what I am doing and the organization I am working with. I am here as a professor's assistant. There are nineteen students from Northeastern University and five students from Rutgers University in New Jersey who are earning university credits for the work they are doing here in Mae Sai. In addition, there are twenty-three women from all over Southeast Asia including Thailand, Burma, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam who are in the beginning of a three year program called Mekong Youth Net. These women spend the first year of their program at DEPDC (the organization we are working at) studying Thai or English and learning about issues related to human trafficking and the prevention thereof. During the second year they will go back to their home countries to do an internship with their sponsoring organization and to conduct research on a project. During the third year, they will write a report based on their research and they will report back to DEPDC periodically to touch base with this organization. These women were chosen because they are extremely intelligent and driven. They will be the future leaders of their communities and will be able to carry DEPDC's mission to prevent human trafficking back to their communities.
So, what are all these American's doing here? Well, a professor at Rutgers University started an organization called Global PACT a few years back. The mission of that organization is to teach young people to combat problems in their own communities. The Global PACT training involves intense small group work where the students actually develop an organization that works to combat a real problem. Global PACT's training fits in perfectly with the Mekong Youth Net's mission, so the two organizations decided to do the Global PACT training together. This is a very brief description, and I'll be sure to talk more about the training in later posts.
There have been many hurdles and barriers in the training so far, but it has been very rewarding, also. More on the trials and joys later. I am happy and healthy and loving Thailand and all of the people I have met. Cheers.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Ahhh Memories!
Now that the semester is winding down, it is time to reminisce. I know I can't capture all of the great moments that I've had here, but here are a few of my best memories of Vietnam.
1. Swimming on the South China Sea Beach. My friends and I grabbed a few beers and set out for the beach after dark. The beach was absolutely deserted. The town where we stayed was very small, so there wasn't much light or activity. The stars were beautiful and the waves were intense. It was so wonderful being with my friends in such a beautiful, peaceful place. This was definitely one of those, "Wow, I can't believe I'm in Vietnam!" moments.
2. Visiting Professor Thanh's village in the Mekong. A professor joined us on our excursion to the Mekong Delta and invited us to his home one of the last days we were there. We took an hour long boat ride in order to reach the village. When we got there, we walked about fifteen minutes through a place I could never have imagined. It was beautiful enough to be a resort. The path led along the river. There were houses on one side of the path. Everywhere there were fruit trees and other large plants. Thanh's family lives on a large fruit orchard. While Thanh led us on a tour of the orchard, pointing out different plants (I also saw a spider bigger than my hand- not kidding), his family was at his home peeling dozens of grapefruits. Grapefruit is a bit different in Vietnam. It has a much thicker skin and it takes a great amount of time to peel- something I did not know at the time. When we got back to his home, there were bowls and bowls of grapefruit. The grapefruit here is also much sweeter than in the states and not at all sour. We all gorged ourselves on the freshest fruit I've ever had. We then proceeded to help cook dinner. We rolled noodles, shrimp, pork, bean sprouts and greens in rice paper. We then dipped these delicious rolls in fish sauce for a perfect dinner. The night ended with another boat ride back to our hotel. I laid out on the roof of the boat. Some people fell asleep, but I just stared at the stars and thought about life, Vietnam, the future- you know, all that philosophizing we tend to do late at night when it's peaceful and everything seems perfect.
3. Sitting on the Opera House steps with My. One of the first few nights I stayed with My, she picked me up from downtown Saigon and we drove on her motorbike to the Opera House. She had bought me some fruit (she's always buying me little, interesting snacks) and we sat on the steps talking. It was already dark, and Saigon really lights up after sunset. I love all the bright lights downtown, all of the motorbikes and cars driving past. Sitting on the Opera House steps is a common activity for young Vietnamese people, so there were at least a couple dozen other twenty-somethings on the steps. It felt really nice to be with my new home stay sister hanging out doing something she likes to do, surrounded by young, cool Vietnamese people.
4. My first delicious street-food meal that I picked out all by myself. Choosing something to eat on the street takes talent. Well, it must, because the first few times I found myself having to feed myself, the food I chose was less than yummy. Yes, I could have went into a Western-style cafe and ordered off an English menu, but I like the challenge of trying to eat what a Vietnamese student my age would eat. So, one day I was walking back from school to my home with the goal of finding some delicious lunch. I stopped and looked at several places to eat, but it either didn't look good, or I didn't have enough courage to speak up and ask for the food. But then, close to my home, there was a small alley with a friendly-looking woman selling something with noodles. So, I just sat at the little plastic stool and table she had set up and pointed to the food she had on her cart. It was delicious! It's called bun thit xao. It is raw vegetables, rice noodles and stir-fried pork, sprinkled with peanuts and served with plenty of fish sauce. I've gone back a couple of times, and the woman always recognizes me. Once, she sat with me and we tried to have a conversation. I always smile when I walk past- she's one of the many people I think I'll remember of my time in Saigon.
1. Swimming on the South China Sea Beach. My friends and I grabbed a few beers and set out for the beach after dark. The beach was absolutely deserted. The town where we stayed was very small, so there wasn't much light or activity. The stars were beautiful and the waves were intense. It was so wonderful being with my friends in such a beautiful, peaceful place. This was definitely one of those, "Wow, I can't believe I'm in Vietnam!" moments.
2. Visiting Professor Thanh's village in the Mekong. A professor joined us on our excursion to the Mekong Delta and invited us to his home one of the last days we were there. We took an hour long boat ride in order to reach the village. When we got there, we walked about fifteen minutes through a place I could never have imagined. It was beautiful enough to be a resort. The path led along the river. There were houses on one side of the path. Everywhere there were fruit trees and other large plants. Thanh's family lives on a large fruit orchard. While Thanh led us on a tour of the orchard, pointing out different plants (I also saw a spider bigger than my hand- not kidding), his family was at his home peeling dozens of grapefruits. Grapefruit is a bit different in Vietnam. It has a much thicker skin and it takes a great amount of time to peel- something I did not know at the time. When we got back to his home, there were bowls and bowls of grapefruit. The grapefruit here is also much sweeter than in the states and not at all sour. We all gorged ourselves on the freshest fruit I've ever had. We then proceeded to help cook dinner. We rolled noodles, shrimp, pork, bean sprouts and greens in rice paper. We then dipped these delicious rolls in fish sauce for a perfect dinner. The night ended with another boat ride back to our hotel. I laid out on the roof of the boat. Some people fell asleep, but I just stared at the stars and thought about life, Vietnam, the future- you know, all that philosophizing we tend to do late at night when it's peaceful and everything seems perfect.
3. Sitting on the Opera House steps with My. One of the first few nights I stayed with My, she picked me up from downtown Saigon and we drove on her motorbike to the Opera House. She had bought me some fruit (she's always buying me little, interesting snacks) and we sat on the steps talking. It was already dark, and Saigon really lights up after sunset. I love all the bright lights downtown, all of the motorbikes and cars driving past. Sitting on the Opera House steps is a common activity for young Vietnamese people, so there were at least a couple dozen other twenty-somethings on the steps. It felt really nice to be with my new home stay sister hanging out doing something she likes to do, surrounded by young, cool Vietnamese people.
4. My first delicious street-food meal that I picked out all by myself. Choosing something to eat on the street takes talent. Well, it must, because the first few times I found myself having to feed myself, the food I chose was less than yummy. Yes, I could have went into a Western-style cafe and ordered off an English menu, but I like the challenge of trying to eat what a Vietnamese student my age would eat. So, one day I was walking back from school to my home with the goal of finding some delicious lunch. I stopped and looked at several places to eat, but it either didn't look good, or I didn't have enough courage to speak up and ask for the food. But then, close to my home, there was a small alley with a friendly-looking woman selling something with noodles. So, I just sat at the little plastic stool and table she had set up and pointed to the food she had on her cart. It was delicious! It's called bun thit xao. It is raw vegetables, rice noodles and stir-fried pork, sprinkled with peanuts and served with plenty of fish sauce. I've gone back a couple of times, and the woman always recognizes me. Once, she sat with me and we tried to have a conversation. I always smile when I walk past- she's one of the many people I think I'll remember of my time in Saigon.
Saturday, May 13, 2006
The Problem of Tourism
The effects of tourism in Vietnam, especially on small town and villages, has always really bothered and saddened me. I was just in Sapa, which is in the mountains near the border with China. The effects of tourism has never been so obvious to me as in this small town. Multiple ethnic minorities live in villages surrounding Sapa. The people from these villages, wearing their traditional clothing, will come to the town to buy things at the market, but especially to sell things to tourists. Whenever I stepped out of the hotel, I was surrounded by women showing me their beautifully hand-made blankets (yes, I bought one) or young teenage girls showing me their handmade metal bracelets (yes, I bought four). It was cute, and charming, at first, I must admit. The girls can speak near-perfect English (which they have learned entirely by their interactions with tourists). It was exhilarting to talk to them and ask them about their lives. But, the more time I spent in Sapa, the more oppressive the constant attention became. I remember we were sitting in a cafe the last afternoon in Sapa, killing some time before our night train (where we slept on wooden shelves with bamboo mats, by the way)- and four women had gathered outside of the door. My friend looked up at them, and they all instantly snapped to attention, opening their blankets to put them on display and smiling at my friend. Sometimes it was difficult to move down the street, I was so surrounded by sellers.
Even the seven-hour hike we took through the terraced rice paddies and down into the valley to see some ethnic-minority villages was the perfect time for the little girls to sell us their goods. About thirty minutes into the hike, over a dozen children, most of them girls, began walking with us. I was charmed by their English. They asked me all about myself and my family and they answered my questions, also. I was communicating with a six year old Black Hmong girl! I was completely charmed. She was adorable. Her name was Mai, and she walked with me the entire day. She gave me a small, colorful bracelet as a present at one point. Later, she constructed a wreath of flowers for my head. I think she worked on it for over an hour on the trail- picking the flowers and weaving them together. My friends on the hike got the same treatment, cute little girls giving them bracelets and making them wreaths of flowers. It wan't until after lunch that they asked us to buy something from them. I had no problem buying a bracelet from the girl. But, I have to admit I was disappointed the children weren't walking with us just for fun or because they found us amusing. I felt slightly used, but I got over it.
What bothered me was that the presence of foreigners has completely changed their lifestyles. Little children go out everyday to court the westerners in order to make a sale. Thirteen year old girls go into town to sell bracelets. When I asked them when they were going home, they said, "maybe tomorrow." When I asked them where they were sleeping they said near the market. These teenage girls did not go home for days at a time!
Cultures are influenced by outside forces, and this is not necessarily a bad thing. Cultures are evolving, changing, modernizing. So, why does it bother me that the culture of the area surrounding Sapa has changed due to tourism? Can I say that their lives are worse for tourism? I can not because I do not know this. Do they prefer selling bracelets and blankets to working on the rice fields? It is possible, I do not know. I realized the reason it upsets me is purely selfish reasons. I feel, that since their culture is being influenced by the West through tourists, that it is not "authentic" vietnamese culture anymore. But, it is impossible to stop the West's influence. Vietnam will always be vietnamese, no matter how much it changes because of globalization, ie the West's influence. What is most important is that the people are benefiting from tourism, that is improving their lives and that people are not being taken advantage of, either by tourists or those benefiting from the tourists. I can not say what the situation in Sapa is now. I don't know if people are suffering or prospering from tourism. I do know that, even now, though Sapa is maybe one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, but that I still have a bad taste in my mouth from all the change that has taken place since the West, and all its wealth, "discovered" this beautiful spot.
Even the seven-hour hike we took through the terraced rice paddies and down into the valley to see some ethnic-minority villages was the perfect time for the little girls to sell us their goods. About thirty minutes into the hike, over a dozen children, most of them girls, began walking with us. I was charmed by their English. They asked me all about myself and my family and they answered my questions, also. I was communicating with a six year old Black Hmong girl! I was completely charmed. She was adorable. Her name was Mai, and she walked with me the entire day. She gave me a small, colorful bracelet as a present at one point. Later, she constructed a wreath of flowers for my head. I think she worked on it for over an hour on the trail- picking the flowers and weaving them together. My friends on the hike got the same treatment, cute little girls giving them bracelets and making them wreaths of flowers. It wan't until after lunch that they asked us to buy something from them. I had no problem buying a bracelet from the girl. But, I have to admit I was disappointed the children weren't walking with us just for fun or because they found us amusing. I felt slightly used, but I got over it.
What bothered me was that the presence of foreigners has completely changed their lifestyles. Little children go out everyday to court the westerners in order to make a sale. Thirteen year old girls go into town to sell bracelets. When I asked them when they were going home, they said, "maybe tomorrow." When I asked them where they were sleeping they said near the market. These teenage girls did not go home for days at a time!
Cultures are influenced by outside forces, and this is not necessarily a bad thing. Cultures are evolving, changing, modernizing. So, why does it bother me that the culture of the area surrounding Sapa has changed due to tourism? Can I say that their lives are worse for tourism? I can not because I do not know this. Do they prefer selling bracelets and blankets to working on the rice fields? It is possible, I do not know. I realized the reason it upsets me is purely selfish reasons. I feel, that since their culture is being influenced by the West through tourists, that it is not "authentic" vietnamese culture anymore. But, it is impossible to stop the West's influence. Vietnam will always be vietnamese, no matter how much it changes because of globalization, ie the West's influence. What is most important is that the people are benefiting from tourism, that is improving their lives and that people are not being taken advantage of, either by tourists or those benefiting from the tourists. I can not say what the situation in Sapa is now. I don't know if people are suffering or prospering from tourism. I do know that, even now, though Sapa is maybe one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, but that I still have a bad taste in my mouth from all the change that has taken place since the West, and all its wealth, "discovered" this beautiful spot.
Banana Garden
The street I live on in Ho Chi Minh City is pretty typical of small streets here, but I love it because it's mine. The street is bustling from 5:00 in the morning until at least 11:00 at night. It actually gives "bustling" a new meaning- I don't think I'll ever walk through a street in the United States and comment that it's crowded or busy ever again. Every time I walk down the small street, I see something new- a hairdresser, a fabric store, or an up-scale cosmetics boutique next to a run-down, dark, room where an old man is selling ice for 500 dong per kilo. As I walk down the street, older men leaning up against their motorbikes yell to me, "Madame! Xe om! Moto-bike!" They are offering to take me anywhere in Saigon for sixty cents. Women sitting on small stools at the side of the road are ready to sell me pineapple, noodles, waffles, sticky rice and dozens of other delicious Vietnamese snacks. There are at least a dozen internet cafes on this short street- all filled with young boys playing internet games. I can also do my laundry and get manicures and pedicures- all within two minutes of my house. Bubble Tea is my new favorite treat in Vietnam, and of course I can get that on my wonderful street, also. Most of all, I'm going to miss my home. I'm going to miss the old woman who sits outside with huge, pink-rimmed sun glasses that are always a little bit crooked. I greet her with, "Chau Ba!" And she acknowldedges this simply by chuckling to herself and repeating, "Chau Ba! Chau Ba!" I'm going to miss the scruffy but harmless dog who always tries to get me to let him outside but then follows me upstairs when I refuse. And, won't I be sad when I can't go home to my little room where my roommate, My, is waiting for me? My has so wonderfully shown me around our street and around Saigon. Without her, my experience here would not have been as meaningful or exciting. I can take many pictures of my street, but I will never be able to capture the feeling of being there, the smells, the sounds, the excitement, the living, on Vuon Choui.
Friday, April 14, 2006
The Foreign Becoming Familiar
Sometimes it's hard to gauge how much I've been learning here in Viet Nam. Most of my learning is being done through experience and observation, which is a gradual process. I was re-reading some passages in an anthropology textbook (Village in Vietnam by Gerald Cannon Hickey, written in the sixties) that I had read the first week I was here, and I realized how much of a better understanding of Vietnamese culture I have now, two months after I arrived in Sai Gon.
I was re-reading some passages about death and ancestor worship in a village in the Mekong Delta because the passages are directly related to my Independent Study Project topic. When I first read the passage, I remember thinking the practices and concepts were so foreign to anything I knew. I really couldn't picture the rituals he was describing. However, now, two months, three death anniversary celebrations and numerous conversations later, I recognize almost everything the author describes in the passage.
For example, Hickey describes the ideal tomb as being "of stone or concrete, on a site selected by a geomancer (123)." Last weekend, my homestay sister, My, showed me the tombs of her grandparents. They are all made of concrete. The tombs of her father's ancestors were all recently restored and newly tiled- showing that the appearance of the tomb is very important. She explained that land that her mother's ancestor's tombs are on is very good land because it is high up.
Hickey also describes the altar devoted to the ancestors as containing a picture of the ancestor where the relatives place offerings, burn joss sticks and kowtow. Indeed, almost every home contains one or more altars to their ancestors where the family members place fruit and other food. I have seen vietnamese friends burn joss sticks and kowtow before the altars multiple times.
I attended My's grandmother's second year death aniversary a few weeks ago. Hickey says that the second year death anniversary marks the end of the mourning period. A ritual is performed before the altar and, afterwards, the mourning clothes are burned. I was able to watch from a distance as a monk performed the ritual and a few family members burned joss sticks and kowtowed. During the ritual, the family members were wearing white cloth wrapped around their heads. Afterwards, they burned the cloths in a small fire outside of the house.
Lastly, Hickey states that it is very important to the elderly to have land and a good home to contain the altar of the ancestors for after they die. Indeed, on both sides of My's family, no one currently resides in the houses that her grandparents owned. The homes contain the altar of the ancestors and are also used for storage, while the family members have homes right next to the old home. On the sixteenth death anniversary celebration of My's father's mother, the celebration was held in the grandparent's home, even though there was a newer, nicer home on the same plot of land.
It was interesting to re-read those passages and remember where I had been two months ago. It's reassuring to know that I've gained at least a basic understanding of this aspect of Vietnamese culture. Of course, I only have a superficial understanding of ancestor worship at the moment, but as a I prepare to do my ISP and as I begin doing research in May, I hope to go deeper into the perceptions that My's family has of these rituals and how the rituals have changed from generation to generation.
I was re-reading some passages about death and ancestor worship in a village in the Mekong Delta because the passages are directly related to my Independent Study Project topic. When I first read the passage, I remember thinking the practices and concepts were so foreign to anything I knew. I really couldn't picture the rituals he was describing. However, now, two months, three death anniversary celebrations and numerous conversations later, I recognize almost everything the author describes in the passage.
For example, Hickey describes the ideal tomb as being "of stone or concrete, on a site selected by a geomancer (123)." Last weekend, my homestay sister, My, showed me the tombs of her grandparents. They are all made of concrete. The tombs of her father's ancestors were all recently restored and newly tiled- showing that the appearance of the tomb is very important. She explained that land that her mother's ancestor's tombs are on is very good land because it is high up.
Hickey also describes the altar devoted to the ancestors as containing a picture of the ancestor where the relatives place offerings, burn joss sticks and kowtow. Indeed, almost every home contains one or more altars to their ancestors where the family members place fruit and other food. I have seen vietnamese friends burn joss sticks and kowtow before the altars multiple times.
I attended My's grandmother's second year death aniversary a few weeks ago. Hickey says that the second year death anniversary marks the end of the mourning period. A ritual is performed before the altar and, afterwards, the mourning clothes are burned. I was able to watch from a distance as a monk performed the ritual and a few family members burned joss sticks and kowtowed. During the ritual, the family members were wearing white cloth wrapped around their heads. Afterwards, they burned the cloths in a small fire outside of the house.
Lastly, Hickey states that it is very important to the elderly to have land and a good home to contain the altar of the ancestors for after they die. Indeed, on both sides of My's family, no one currently resides in the houses that her grandparents owned. The homes contain the altar of the ancestors and are also used for storage, while the family members have homes right next to the old home. On the sixteenth death anniversary celebration of My's father's mother, the celebration was held in the grandparent's home, even though there was a newer, nicer home on the same plot of land.
It was interesting to re-read those passages and remember where I had been two months ago. It's reassuring to know that I've gained at least a basic understanding of this aspect of Vietnamese culture. Of course, I only have a superficial understanding of ancestor worship at the moment, but as a I prepare to do my ISP and as I begin doing research in May, I hope to go deeper into the perceptions that My's family has of these rituals and how the rituals have changed from generation to generation.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Ben Tre, Vietnam
My took me to visit her family in the Mekong Delta last weekend for her grandmother's two year death anniversary.
Her family was extremely warm and welcoming. Her mother and her aunts kept saying, "Dep qua!" Which means, "you are very beatiful." One time, I was walking through the kitchen and her mother said something which her brother translated as, "Mama does say you is so tall!" When her mom saw my passport photo she exclaimed in English, "You so FAT! But now you is thin- you look very good now." Hmmmm....I don't know about the candid honesty in this country.
Her mother, who I addressed as "Auntie," kept hugging me and grabbing my arm and giving me LOTS of food. They gave me the most food and the best food. The generosity here never ceases to amaze me.
Her brother is sixteen and a very good student. He stays up studying until one or two in the morning and then gets up at five to go to school (he also gets a nap in the afternoons.) He is especially interested in English. When he first met me he told me I was the first foreigner he had ever talked to. He spoke wonderful English with a very clear accent. I could tell he was very excited (and a little nervous) about practicing his English with me. I told him I would help him with his English homework any time.
My has a cousin that also lives with her parents. She was very shy, and never spoke to me (didn't speak much to anyone else either, for that matter). But, I could tell she was very sweet. She seemed to be content just observing me.
Her mother and father are also very hard workers. I think the lights were off in the house for maybe three hours that night. Her mother owns two boats and spends all day every day collecting coconuts. Her father works at a coconut mill.
Ben Tre is very famous for coconuts. They make famous coconut candy, but apparently you can do just about anything with coconuts, including making dishes, creating fuel, and of course, drinking and eating them.
My and I already have plans to go back to her home in two weeks. During my Independent Study Project I want to spend several long weekends there. I'm thinking of doing an ethnographical study of the village, focusing on the meaning of death and dying and the rituals involved.
Her family was extremely warm and welcoming. Her mother and her aunts kept saying, "Dep qua!" Which means, "you are very beatiful." One time, I was walking through the kitchen and her mother said something which her brother translated as, "Mama does say you is so tall!" When her mom saw my passport photo she exclaimed in English, "You so FAT! But now you is thin- you look very good now." Hmmmm....I don't know about the candid honesty in this country.
Her mother, who I addressed as "Auntie," kept hugging me and grabbing my arm and giving me LOTS of food. They gave me the most food and the best food. The generosity here never ceases to amaze me.
Her brother is sixteen and a very good student. He stays up studying until one or two in the morning and then gets up at five to go to school (he also gets a nap in the afternoons.) He is especially interested in English. When he first met me he told me I was the first foreigner he had ever talked to. He spoke wonderful English with a very clear accent. I could tell he was very excited (and a little nervous) about practicing his English with me. I told him I would help him with his English homework any time.
My has a cousin that also lives with her parents. She was very shy, and never spoke to me (didn't speak much to anyone else either, for that matter). But, I could tell she was very sweet. She seemed to be content just observing me.
Her mother and father are also very hard workers. I think the lights were off in the house for maybe three hours that night. Her mother owns two boats and spends all day every day collecting coconuts. Her father works at a coconut mill.
Ben Tre is very famous for coconuts. They make famous coconut candy, but apparently you can do just about anything with coconuts, including making dishes, creating fuel, and of course, drinking and eating them.
My and I already have plans to go back to her home in two weeks. During my Independent Study Project I want to spend several long weekends there. I'm thinking of doing an ethnographical study of the village, focusing on the meaning of death and dying and the rituals involved.
Motorbike Fashion and Function
There are three items that a proper Vietnamese woman never leaves home without: a hat, a face mask and long gloves.
The hat: it is absolutely essential to be wearing a hat between the hours of ten in the morning and four in the afternoon. The first thing my homestay sister gave me when I moved in was a hat of hers; she was horrified that I did not have one. She was very concerned that I would get sick from the sun if I was not wearing a hat.
The gloves: Vietnamese women do almost anything to avoid getting darker. Even if it 100 degrees and unbearably humid, a vietnamese woman will cover her arms and hands in order to stay as light as possible. Even with this lighter-the-better mentality, people still seem taken aback by how white I am- "So White," I often here when I meet new people.
The mask: This handy item serves two purposes. The first is, again, to cover the skin and avoid getting tanner. The second, is to filter all of the smog coming from the millions of motorbikes on the streets of saigon. I have to admit, I don't exactly enjoy breathing in so much exhaust, but I absolutely hate feeling my hot breath on the inside of my mask in all of this heat.
So, maybe by the time mom, dad, and Zakcq come to Saigon, I'll pick them up wearing a hat, mask and gloves, but as of now, I'm still an awkward westerner trying to get a tan and stay cool at the same time.
The hat: it is absolutely essential to be wearing a hat between the hours of ten in the morning and four in the afternoon. The first thing my homestay sister gave me when I moved in was a hat of hers; she was horrified that I did not have one. She was very concerned that I would get sick from the sun if I was not wearing a hat.
The gloves: Vietnamese women do almost anything to avoid getting darker. Even if it 100 degrees and unbearably humid, a vietnamese woman will cover her arms and hands in order to stay as light as possible. Even with this lighter-the-better mentality, people still seem taken aback by how white I am- "So White," I often here when I meet new people.
The mask: This handy item serves two purposes. The first is, again, to cover the skin and avoid getting tanner. The second, is to filter all of the smog coming from the millions of motorbikes on the streets of saigon. I have to admit, I don't exactly enjoy breathing in so much exhaust, but I absolutely hate feeling my hot breath on the inside of my mask in all of this heat.
So, maybe by the time mom, dad, and Zakcq come to Saigon, I'll pick them up wearing a hat, mask and gloves, but as of now, I'm still an awkward westerner trying to get a tan and stay cool at the same time.
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