When I was in 'Nam...

Things I'm going to miss: Ordinary life

2010-06-28T17:49:00.000+07:00

Them's my undies. I wash them every Saturday by hand, and it's a completely normal part of my routine, but it will end when I become a grad student with access to a washing machine and a very tight schedule. (Though now that I have discovered the wonders of presoaking there's no going back.)

1.7

This is the average number of books I read per month. That's nearly one book every two weeks! One of the things I will miss most is the easy pace of life in Vietnam, which has allowed me to rediscover reading for fun, rather than for class.

See food? It's seafood! (clams)

Eating with chopsticks. It's just so civilized.

Street life. It's going to be so isolating to go back to temperate climes, where everybody keeps their business inside. How can I be nosy anymore?

Things I'm going to miss: What-in-the-world moments

2010-06-25T10:35:00.000+07:00

If you leave your country, chances are there are going to be a lot of things that take you by surprise--no, that are veritable jaw-droppers. Like the first time you see a family of five sharing a single motorbike. Or when your sweet little host grandma digs around in her nose with her finger while you are talking to her as if it is no problem (it is, in fact, no problem). Or four people on two bicycles pedalling serenely down the road, all holding hands. Or when your extended host family offers you raw pork blood at a party. Or when you first realize that if it ever became necessary, you could indeed buy live bunnies and snakes by the side of the road. Or pussycats.

With a regular supply of such moments, I've become rather addicted, and I predict serious withdrawal when I return to the States.

I made a facebook album, "Visual metaphors for culture shock" in an attempt to evoke some of the feelings such moments provoke. Unfortunately, these moments are difficult to capture with stills, but I was lucky enough to find a lovely video that sums it up perfectly.

I now present to you the finest in Vietnamese advertising. Vinamilk: It's not just milk. It's Happiness.

I suggest you watch this with sound if at all possible. (This video can also be found here.)

We interrupt this series to bring you something totally random

2010-06-22T17:38:00.001+07:00

Thinking about all the people/places/things I'm going to miss from Vietnam made me really depressed. So I decided to cheer myself up by thinking about one of the most ubiquitously available sources of joy and happiness: random words.

One of the best sources of random words is, of course, the good ole' American boy Daniel Webster.

The only thing more American than baseball and hotdogs is spelling it "color" and "theater." Take that, Brits!

And a large picture of my head.

But I am about to reveal to you the secret location of an even better source of even randomer words and word combinations. It is simple. It is free. It is my gift to all you Shakers and word-lovers and word-loving Shakers out there. You ready?

The answer is: comment on this blog.

No! Really! For serious. Because when you comment on this blog you are required to go through a security procedure in which you read and type out a distorted word or phrase that has been generated by your machine to be 100% random and 99% AWESOME. (1% of the time you get a dud. But it's no worse a failure rate than condoms, and the consequences are way less life-changing.)

Here are some of my favorites*:

used pasteur│repult│PAPAL ASYLUM│stermen│WRONG POCKS**│shnilly│office truce**│last vander ***

*One hundred points to whoever illustrates of one of these.
**Pretty sure I suffered from this in middle school.
***I think we should call one of those.
****Similar to the last of the Mohicans, can be found at Calvin College.

Also, you can go to facebook and post a link or picture anywhere and it will give you the same thing. Don't like what you get? Try again! Here, copy and post this:

Knock yourselves out, wordophiles!

Things I'm going to miss: My coworkers

2010-06-18T12:16:00.001+07:00

Here's a nice GRE-worthy word for you: esprit de corps. Here is a definition:

Synonyms include going to the beach together,

Hannah and chị Giang

eating lunch together every day,

Anh Khoa, chị Mai Anh, chị Hằng

studying English together (or goofing off as the case may be),

Anh Long, cô Hannah, chị Mai Anh, chị Phượng, anh Khoa,

bác Chung, chị Ngọc, chú Bình

celebrating International Children's Day together,

Anh Lâm (editor in chief) and children of Thế Giới Employees

celebrating each other's weddings,

Mr. Long (accounting department) and his bride.

visiting each other's homes at Tết,

Chị Thuận and family (and me)

going out to fancy restaurants at Tết together,

Chị Hạnh (also my host mom), chị Thuận

partying hard at Tết together,

Bác Chung

going to pagodas together,

Em Diệp and chị Thu

learning each other's languages,

Anh Long (my boss) reading El Vocero Hispano Newspaper.

and occasionally even getting some work done.

Employees of Thế Giới Publishers, how I will miss you all!

Things I'm Going to Miss: My Host Family

2010-06-15T14:31:00.000+07:00

The time is fast approaching when I must return to the motherland. And like many people who absolutely detest change, I don't like to think about it. So before I think about what lies ahead, let's think some about what lies in the here and now. Let's think about all the people, places, and things that have brought me so much happiness here.

Let's start with people.

em Hiếu

As you can tell, Hiếu has a lot of charisma. For an 11-year-old, he is incredibly confident. He does not shy away from chocolate sundaes that are almost as big as his head. I will miss him.

chị Hạnh

This picture was taken when chị Hạnh and I went just the two of us to pay our pre-Tet dues at the neighborhood pagoda Chùa Hà (popularly credited as the Pagoda of Love). In Vietnam you don't tend to tell people how much you like them even if you think they are great; it's just too personal and awkward. So instead you spend a quiet moment together. Maybe light some incense. So this was our version of saying "I think I feel comfortable with you now." I will miss her.

em Hiếu and anh Tám at Cafe Mobilette

Anh Tám doesn't talk much. Not to me, not to anyone. But he still likes to sit with you at a coffee shop, and if you are patient, and if you study your Vietnamese, and if you persist in asking him lots of questions, he will open up. I will miss him.

bác Hồng making pig's feet

This is the most typical angle from which I see bác Hồng. Most of my memories of her involve some recipe or another. The best one, and the one she is making in this picture, is pig's feet. I will miss her and pig's feet.

bác Huỳnh

This is bác Huỳnh interpreting a Chinese poem for me. Most of my memories of him involve him teaching me poems with risque double entendres. He is also the sponsor of my trip to Laos (and Thailand for an afternoon). I will miss him.

Bác Huỳnh is very social and holds his liquor extremely well. This I discovered in Laos.

I know I said it already, but...I will miss them.

And the winner is...

2010-06-10T12:15:00.000+07:00

...Nina!

Congratulations to Nina Forsythe, winner of the HOLY MOLA giveaway, for being so lucky. I know you tried really hard; your work has finally paid off.

Scout's honor, this is not a case of nepotism. She is my mother, and obviously I would have chosen her if it were up to me, but it was random.org who chose her. If you want to improve your chances at the next giveaway, head on over to:

Thurs June 10 Sandra's Book Club http://sandrasbookclub.blogspot.com/
Fri June 11 Sententia Vera http://sententiavera.com/
Mon June 14 The Tranquilo Traveler http://blog.joshuaberman.net/
Wed June 16 The Book Nook http://booknook516.blogspot.com/
Thur June 17 Pisti Totol-Black Bird http://pistitotol.wordpress.com/
Fri June 18 Musings http://nilkibenitez.blogspot.com/

Please note that if you would like to ask Silvio what the heck he is doing spying on this bathing bull, you can ask him this Friday, June 11 7-8pm Eastern Time or Friday, June 18 same time at the live chat here:

Live chat with Silvio at the author chat salon at Condor Books

Feel free to ask him about his book, too.

Finally, here are some links of interest:

Silvio's website
Silvio's blog which, personally, I find much more interesting
Condor Book Tours in case you have a book you need promoted, too.
Dulce Bread and Book Shop* where you can buy Bernardo and the Virgin

*Note that they will donate 100% of their commissions to Unicef's Storybook Gift project. This project sends culturally appropriate storybooks to children in need throughout the world.

It all started with a true story...

2010-06-09T16:20:00.013+07:00

FYI: This story is brought to you by Condor Book Tours. Find out more during a live chat with the author this Friday, June 11, 7-8pm EST and Friday, June 18, same time.

One thing Vietnam and Nicaragua have in common besides bananas, frangipani trees, and me, is war. Specifically, guerilla war. Specifically, dirt poor communist guerrillas fighting the United States of America.

basically the same.

Except different. Because in Vietnam they were called the Viet Minh, and later the Viet Cong, and later the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, Freedom-Independence-Happiness because they won. In Nicaragua, the situation was far less clear, so today they are still just called the Sandinistas.

The Sandinista revolution is the setting for Bernardo and the Virgin, and it goes something like this:

1979: The Sandinistas overthrow the oppressive dictatorship of Anastasio Somoza Debayle.
1979: The U.S. decides it doesn't like communists in its backyard and things get complicated.
1979: The Nicaraguan people discover that the Sandinistas aren't so perfect themselves.
1980: The Virgin Mary decides to appear to a sacristan named Bernardo in the humble rural town of Cuapa, bringing the following message:

"Make peace. Don't ask Our Lord for peace because, if you do not make it, there will be no peace."

Pretty straightforward message, hey? And what's more, all of this is true.
Until, that is, my friend Silvio got his hands on the tale and turned it into a novel. Then all sorts of lies started being told about the whole situation. But as is the way with fiction, they were lies that were somehow still true. The following is an interview my mom did with Silvio to find out just what possessed him to do such a dastardly thing.
Feel free to read and post your own questions, today, Wednesday, June 6, and Silvio will answer!

Nina Forsythe: Why fiction? Why not a biography?

Silvio Sirias: I love reading biographies; however, they appeal mostly to the intellect. Fiction, though, aims straight for the reader’s heart, and that was my target. In addition, a novel allows us to suspend disbelief. That lets me say to the reader: “Sit back a spell to enjoy this incredible story I came across while in Nicaragua.”

N.F.: How close to the truth did you stick to portraying Bernardo, who was, after all, a real person?

S.S.: The only times in the novel in which Bernardo’s character narrates is when he describes the apparitions. At these times I stay very close to his version of events because of a promise I made to him while he was still alive. But outside of that I had considerable creative license. That’s why I chose to tell the rest of his story through other characters. However, I always sought to stay true to the essence of the man and to the defining moments of his life.

N.F.: You seemed to have a lot of fun with the other characters. There’s the Nicaraguan émigré who constantly botches English expressions, the priest who’s nostalgic for the Inquisition, and—my favorite—the literary theorist who’s so impressed with himself. Were the secondary characters created out of whole cloth?

S.S.: Well, Nina, while living in Nicaragua and conducting research I had many delightfully surreal experiences, and I met many interesting folk who ended up—vastly exaggerated, of course—in the novel. To give you one example, toward the novel’s end there’s a Spanish priest who shoots fish with an AK-47. This actually happened. He invited me and an English friend (also in the novel) to go “hunting” with him. He drove us to a nearby river, told us to hide behind a fallen tree trunk because the bullets might ricochet, fired his weapon three times into the water, jumped in fully clothed, and came out holding three large fish that we ate for lunch while he told bawdy jokes about bull testicles. And that’s just one of many incidents.

N.F.: Do you have a favorite character?

S.S.: They’re all my creations, and I’m terribly fond of each one. I do confess, though, a preference for the ones who make me laugh out loud. In my favorite chapter, they all come together during a mass pilgrimage to the apparition site. I still enjoy reading that chapter—for me it’s like attending a fun and touching family reunion.

N.F.: Is there anything you learned in writing Bernardo and the Virgin that has helped you in working on your subsequent books?

S.S.: Writing Bernardo, above all, gave me the confidence I needed to continue writing fiction. I also learned to enjoy the art of revising, and I learned the importance of selecting a good structure for the story I have to tell. I’m convinced that the success of most novels hinges on the structure a writer chooses.

N.F.: Is one of your goals to change the way Americans think about Nicaragua?

S.S.: Definitely. Throughout the 1980s, the decade of the Contra War, Nicaragua was in the news every day. I think Americans got sick of hearing about Nicaragua every evening while they were eating dinner. Although the war ended twenty years ago, it left a lasting impression that Nicaraguans are hopelessly violent people, and because of this the country has been placed in the drawer of things Americans would prefer to forget. But you lived in Nicaragua for several years and you’ve seen that most Nicaraguans are gentle, caring people with incredibly generous spirits. That’s a great part of what I wish to convey in Bernardo and the Virgin.

Okay guys, now it's your turn. Ask away!

Note that if you buy his book from Condor Book Tours, they will donate 100% of their commissions to Unicef's Storybook Gift project. This project sends culturally appropriate storybooks to children in need throughout the world (more infohere).

Some things don't have to fail

2010-06-07T17:44:00.003+07:00

So my family's planned trip to Vietnam was an epic fail. Because of a technicality involving passport expiration dates, they didn't even get on the plane. Here is a picture of me missing them like all get-out but still trying to make the best of things at karaoke:

What is that thing floating above my head? Is it a ray of hope?!? I think it is!

Because life goes on. And that brings me to Bernardo and the Virgin, and the man who brought them to literary life, Silvio Sirias (that's him up top). Being literary characters, Bernardo and the Virgin are unencumbered by such things as visas and embassies and nasty-mean-uncaring immigration officials that make life difficult for mere mortals like us.

insouciance personified

So they are going to drop by 'Nam the day after tomorrow for a little Q&A on Wednesday, June 9. Check it out! Here is a schedule (involving a free mola giveaway!!!):

I will post questions and Silvio will answer them. Please feel free to comment and ask your own questions, too. As an author, he will be required by the rules of the universe to TELL ALL. (It's like virtual truth or dare! Except only truth.)
Silvio will stop by and answer your questions and then you will ask more.
You all will be so taken by his wit and wisdom that you will immediately buy his book from Condor Book Tours and they will donate 100% of their commissions to Unicef's Storybook Gift project. This is a project that sends culturally appropriate storybooks to children in need throughout the world (more info here).
I will choose one commenter at random to receive a free mola.
A live chat will go down at the Condor Book site on Friday, June 11th 7-8pm EST and Friday, June 18th 7-8 pm EST
Children will be helped, molas will be given, Bernardo and the Virgin will be promoted, and world peace will ensue.

Holy mola! This could be yours!

Hope to see you there.

love,

Hannah

Things that are making me happy today

2010-05-20T15:23:00.001+07:00

I have been accused of being a blog perfectionist. And I was challenged to write an impromptu post about things that make me happy. No prior preparation. No camera on hand. Just old photos, the internet, and my wits.

I am not going to disagree with that accusation per se...in fact I am going to prove it true. Because not only did I meet the challenge, but all of my items start with "B" and that's cool because it's called alliteration. So here you go, things that are making me happy today, even if none of the photos were taken today:

Books: There should be a law against reading more than one brain-bending book at a time because of the following principle that I have discovered:

= BRAIN EXPLOSION

(but a happy one)

Bicycles: Specifically my bicycle, specifically riding it around Hanoi, specifically when I pass through the gaps between large, shiny SUVs who can't penetrate the traffic jam but I can and I go "Ha! I am cleaner, greener, AND faster than you!" as I speed past and feel righteous.

Bluegrass: Lately I've been rather obsessed with a cover of Float On by Iron Horse (thanks Asa). Bluegrass is just so silly with a tinge of sadness at its core. Now why on earth did I ever hate it? Anyways, I'm cured.

Birds: The Audubon Society of California has the following message for you: "Birds matter." Do you know the difference between a Cedar Waxwing and a Bohemian Waxwing? Does anybody else besides me find this every bit as interesting as the difference between a Republican and a Democrat?

Blogging: Because Ali and Calah are also writing posts on the same subject. Check it out!

If you're looking for a fresh perspective on Vietnam...

2010-05-15T14:41:00.004+07:00

...then try these books.

After the blood and rage and tortured patriotism of

(which, let's face it, wasn't really about Vietnam at all, but about Americans facing up to their own brutality in Vietnam) the following books are a welcome reality check.

On Vietnamese culture in general:

Wandering Through Vietnamese Culture: Published by Thế Giới Publishers (that's where I work!!!) this massive tome by 90-year-old cultural scholar Hữu Ngọc is a rather random collection of cultural tidbits gathered under such lyrical titles as "Mr. Lam Lives on Bonsai and Acquarium Fish" and "The Cicada and the Flamboyant."

From Inside Post-War Vietnam:

After Sorrow is brought to us by Lady Borton, a friend of mine--oh yeah, and also the foremost expert on Vietnamese-American cultural exchange. She was the first American to return to Vietnam after 1975, offering us a rare glimpse into the world of pre-free market Vietnam.

Reaching the Other Side: Subtitled "The journal of an American who stayed to witness Vietnam's postwar transition," this book offers a similar glimpse into post-war Vietnam from a Mennonite perspective (represent!). Considering that I'm in Vietnam because of MCC and MCC is in Vietnam partly due to Earl Martin...I owe this guy a lot.

And if you really must, on the Vietnam War (commonly known as the American War):

Vietnam: The Definitive Oral History as Told from All Sides: Don't be fooled by the cover, this book contains more than just veteran stories. It brings us voices of northern and southern Vietnamese soldiers and civillians alike, as well as peace protesters, policy makers, and the orphaned. It gives a proper sense of just how big and complicated the war was.

Last Night I Dreamed of Peace: This diary written by the 24-year-old Viet Cong guerilla doctor Đặng Thùy Trâm has been called the Diary of Anne Frank of Vietnam. When it was found by an American soldier after her death, the Vietnamese interpreter told him, "Don't burn this one...It has fire in it already." The story of its rescue and the events it deals with are portrayed in the film "Đừng Đốt" (Don't Burn It).

Not the best acting on the part of the American actors, but really a lovely and moving film. Not yet available on DVD (to my knowledge) but you can download pirated copies.

Special guests soon to be appearing in 'Nam...

2010-05-10T10:54:00.001+07:00

You may or may not have heard of the award-winning Latino writer Silvio Sirias, author of Bernardo and the Virgin, a novel about a Nicaraguan priest, and Meet Me Under the Ceiba, a novel about a Nicaraguan lesbian (read the synopses here).

I happen to know him because he is my friend. I met him in 2000 in Nicaragua, and by 2003 I had also met Bernardo and the Virgin (the Virgin being Our Lady, not Bernardo's girlfriend). I first met the pair in draft form, one chapter at a time, read out loud by the author, in the company of said author's friends, lounging of a tropical evening on said author's porch. I am now very pleased to introduce them to you, here, in a very different (though still tropical) setting.

That's right, Bernardo and the Virgin are comin' to 'Nam!

As part of a virtual book tour the first two weeks of June, Bernardo and the Virgin will be holding a Q&A session hosted by yours truly, as well as visiting exciting spots like Ha Long Bay and the Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum. Stay tuned for pictures.

They will be escorted by my family:

Okay, maybe that picture's a little misleading. Take two. They will be escorted by my family:

Robert Forsythe, Ph.D. Mathematics

Nina Forsythe, MFA, Poetry

Asa Forsythe, sooon-to-be BA, Philosophy

You can tell I come from the finest stock that the world of goofballs has to offer. I think Bernardo and the Virgin are in for the ride of their literary lives.

Stay tuned to join the adventure.

How to have the Ultimate Italian Gelato Experience

2010-04-30T16:20:00.004+07:00

What you do is you take a Starbucks model:

And bring her to HaMy Sophie Ice Cream From Europe at 1A Tràng Tiền St., hotline: 04.35149253. Then buy her one scoop of Ice Cream From Europe (preferably vanilla flavored, price $0.50) and plop it into her coffee.

Voila! You have just created the

There is a profound thought here, actually, and it is this: So much of advertising strives to make your life look boring and incomplete and so, by way of contrast, make the product look exciting and fulfilling. But what if we turned this concept on its head? What if we went about "advertising" our own lives instead? What if we chose to see the little things in our lives as exciting and fulfilling and so, by way of contentment, make much of the commercial advertising around us utterly superfluous?

What if a simple combination of coffee, vanilla ice cream, and a friend was all you needed to have the Ultimate Italian Gelato Experience?

For the sake of thoroughness, here y'all go.

2010-04-28T11:12:00.007+07:00

The resident perfectionist who dwells inside my brain has dictated that I include links on my blog to my facebook albums. Considering that it has been a while since I last did that, I've got a large batch for your perusal. Browse and enjoy!

Long overdue photos from my host sister's birthday celebrated in Hai Phong last year.

The Lim Festival, with an enlightening article published in Vietnam Cultural Window, edited by yours truly.

An excursion to Ba Vi Mountain where Uncle Ho hung out a lot during the war and where pollution remains blessedly absent.

Thế Giới Publisher's latest field trip: a triple spiritual site sampler, in which Hannah learns the difference between a shrine, a temple, and a pagoda.

And my personal favorite, an illustrated step-by-step guide to bringing the Lunar New Year to your own home.

I ♥ English Pronunciation

2010-04-19T16:15:00.003+07:00

This is my host brother Hiếu (pronounced kind of like "Hue").

This is a closeup of the patch sewn onto Hiếu's pants.

This is what Hiếu and I do most weekday nights.

Hint: we are studying English. This is how a typical pronunciation review goes:

"Okay, Hiếu, I want you to read the first word in this list."

"Pro-nun-ci-a-tion."

"No, no, no, that's the title of the list. Read the first word in the list."

"Veter...veterniratiry."

"No, it's veterinarian."

"Ve-te-ri-na-ti-ry."

"Repeat after me: ve"

"ve"

"ter"

"in"

"ar"

"ian"

"Ve-ter-in-ar-ian."

"Great job! Read it again."

"Ver-ti-ni-raian. Trời ơi, khó quá!"

You know you've lived in Hanoi too long if...

2010-03-31T16:47:00.001+07:00

I have lived in Hanoi for 1 year, 7 months, and 2 weeks. And though I am far from being "just like a Vietnamese person" as many people attempt to praise me, I nevertheless have reached a degree of assimilation. Here are some of the indications that you've lived in Hanoi long enough for things to sink in:

You casually say things like "Today I was riding my xe đạp and decided to stop at this one tea stand in my ngõ and got lots of xinh đẹps from the lady there. Then a xe máy almost ran into me." (credit: Calah Schlabach)

You can cross a shoe checkpoint without even breaking stride.

An alarming proportion of your personal items are decorated with chubby animals, and/or something monstrous is dangling from your cell phone.

"Fu female"

20-degree weather causes you to dress like this (because you know those cement walls and floors were not designed to keep you warm).

"The Lake" means Hoàn Kiếm Lake.

When you go out to eat, you look for the smallest plastic chairs possible (because everyone knows the size of the chairs is inversely proportionate to the deliciousness of the food).

Alternately, you choose your restaurant solely based on how funny the name sounds.

Highschool Restaurant Teeny Pizza actually sells teeny pizzas!!!!

You find yourself asking things like "How old are you?" "Are you married?" "How much did you pay for that?" of people you only just met.

What do I do all day anyways?

2010-03-16T17:26:00.007+07:00

This is a good question for me to ask myself, too. I may live 12 time zones away from my nearest blood relatives, but I still work a nine-to-five, and it helps to remind myself what I actually do with all that time. When I'm not writing blog posts, mostly I am editing articles that have been translated from Vietnamese into English. For example, an artist profile for a book on contemporary Vietnamese art, that starts like this:

Lê Quảng Hà was born in 1963 in Hanoi.

This is the only sentence in the entire document that I did not change. The rest of the first paragraph goes like this:

His skinny and spare-face showed his strong personality, naughty and activeness with sharp eyes widely opening to stare at everythings as if they were looking for the inside natures, never take his eyes off anything. Keen on drawing since he was young, Ha started his drawing class in children’s club when he was only 7. When grown up, he once tried to shift to Irrigational University but he could not be happy nor could find his position there. There was sometime when he even tried as a worker but it was not all right at all. Ha sat for an entrance exam in University of Fine Arts again. Painting seemed to be his fate that was unavoidable. His first three school years was in Ho Chi Minh city University of Fine Arts (1986- 1989), and the next three years was in Hanoi Industrial Arts University (1989- 1992), and expescially under the instruction of femal painter Kim Bach, to whom he paid so much respect to, Lê Quảng Hà has become mature gained a lot of painting knowledge and experiences.

And this is what I turn it into, with a little luck, a little skill, and a lot of help from my amazingly patient boss, Mr. Long.

His thin face, with its wide eyes that seemed to pierce every object he looked at to their core, revealed a strong personality, both active and mischievous. Fond of drawing since he was young, Ha enrolled in a drawing class at his children’s club when he was only seven. When he was older, he tried to transfer to the Water Resources University but was unhappy and unable to find his place there. There was even a time when he tried his hand at manual labor, but he did not feel right about it. So he sat a second time for the entrance exam to the University of Fine Arts. Painting seemed to be his fate. His first three years of study were passed at the Ho Chi Minh City University of Fine Arts (1986-1989), and the next three years at the Hanoi School of Industrial Art (1989-1992), primarily under the instruction of the painter Kim Bach, to whom he owes great respect for giving him the knowledge and experience that would later help him become a mature painter.

Polished prose. Isn't it a beautiful thing?
Sometimes my job seems so tedious. Sometimes it is downright scary.

But right now, looking at the finished result, I can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. And I have to admit there are times when my job is highly entertaining. Take these delightful examples from the The Gioi Publishers blooper reel, for instance:

I first knew the strange impressive and unforgettable light fragrance, the smell of straw bended with the good smell of village girl’s hair, which made one on a cloud nine.

Someone sure knows their American idioms from 20 years ago!

They put the dó plaints in a mortal and smash them by a cylinder hummer until it turns into a platform.

[see below for clarification]

credit: my totally awesome brother, Asa Forsythe

Through the side windows, we can know how many women in the family get married.

This one actually makes sense in context. One room with a window is added for each daughter that gets married. But you gotta appreciate the Freudian slip!

Cascadeur students act not only simple performances but also very dangerous ones such as jumping off a building, speeding on a motor, falling off an abyss, etc.

Wow! Makes my job seem like a piece of cake.
And the grand finale:

U Minh forest used to be a battlefield and a place to cover top leaders in the Southern Resistance, such a valuable forest of humankind should have been a culturally attractive address for tourism such as biology tourism, history tourism, especially for young generation. It’s so regretful it’s burnt and destroyed. Even the scene is also nothing more than concrete blocks and the forest is overexploited for commercial purposes. The difference between the rich and the poor here is taking place more drastically than ever. This is a hindrance to organising tourism industry structures but still keeping native distinctive cultural features? I dare to think that it’s time to put what’s modern or what’s traditional or what’s natural on the right place so as to keep the natural beauty, abundance and uniqueness... That’s how tourism can attract more tourists. It’s local authorirties’ reponsibilities to distinguish what belongs to distinctive tradition, what’s cuturally unique to maintain for offsprings, both physical and non-physical culture. To the end, the hardest-to-solve problem is human resources. From higher managers to staff, they all need traning very basically and the Government should generate favourable conditions by reasonable policies so that they can live on their jobs. Only by that could the non-smoke industry develop. Last but not less, the waterways gardens tourism will stand firm with a sound bandmaster.

And rightly so, in my opinion!

Peace.

They weren't any better than us

2010-03-03T14:50:00.005+07:00

For Vietnamese New Year, Calah, Alicia, and I went to the great, the awe-inspiring, the one and only tourist-ridden Angkor Wat.

Photos with narrative captions can be found here.

On the first day we decided we'd watch the sunset from atop one of the temple-mountains. Climbing up that old, old rock face, I could hardly help but have a few thoughts. First thought: Ancient Angkorians were obviously very fit.

And upon reaching the top, second thought: Holy cow that's a lot of tourists.
How am I supposed to have my epic Angkor Wat sunset experience with all these people here cramping my style? How am I supposed to take pictures of exotic landscapes with other white people who look just like me in the way?

And it happened like that all week until it started to seem a little ridiculous. People were constantly stepping into each others' photos and then apologizing, like if Grandma saw your pictures from vacation and there was anybody in the picture she didn't know she would cut you out of her will. Or if your friends found out that there were actual tourists at Angkor Wat (never mind that you yourself are one) suddenly they would recognize you for the Lame Poser you really are.

So then I had a third thought to chew on for the rest of the week: Why do we love to pretend that we are the only tourists here?

I think part of it comes from Western individualism. We like to think of ourselves as independent, as pioneers. We don't like to be reminded that we are not the first, and definitely not the last, and most certainly not the most important individuals ever to see this amazing place.

And a (perhaps related) component is the desire for the exotic. We don't normally like to travel for long distances in cramped quarters only to see other people just like us. (Though of course, we do still want food that is palatable to us and hotels that are safe and clean and have pools like our hotels at home.)

But I think the most powerful reason is the sneaking suspicion that ancient peoples were so much cooler than people like us. I mean, what's the modern American equivalent of Angkor Wat? The White House? Lame. The Mall of America? Ugh. Gag me with a spoon. And not only are modern structures not as cool, but they won't even last for half as long as Angkor already has—and they didn't even have the luxury of fork lifts back then! Yessiree, we tourists are major lame and ashamed of it.

But while that may be true, there's probably another side to the story. Looking at the heavy slabs of stone I was struck by the sheer amount of manpower required to build just one of the hundreds of monuments that populate the ancient capital of the Angkor kingdom. Who provided all that labor? Probably slaves, or serfs who were as good as slaves. Who could command such a great effort from his people? Only a despot.

King Jayawarman VII, despot extraordinaire

And even if their monuments are still standing, the fact remains that their empire eventually collapsed, just like every other empire since the invention of history. Just like modern Western hegemony will someday also kick the bucket.

The urge to romanticize the ancient peoples of foreign lands is completely understandable. Life in the 21st century just feels so ordinary. But even if ancient Angkorians were really cool, I don't think that it means they were necessarily any better than us. They probably would have had a few things to teach us, for sure, but it's not like history has made zero progress since they disappeared from the stage. Things like women's rights and the 8-hour work day are only a few of the may perqs of being a modern-day human.

So the next time you feel guilty for being a WASP or a suburbanite or some other totally lame, over-privileged segment of the population, just remember Angkor and realize that, the way history works, someone is always gaining power at the expense of others, and the only thing you have control over is what you do with the position you have been given in this mess. History is not your game to play, it's your own life that's yours to play.

So peace out!

Holiday Photo Report

2010-01-28T13:51:00.001+07:00

This holiday season I made two trips. First, a trip down south to visit a longtime friend of my grandmother and see her hometown in Ben Tre and her current residence in Ho Chi Minh City. Second, a trip to Laos with my host uncle Hùynh and sister Hạnh that included a trip across the border to Thailand for an afternoon.

Click on the links for the detailed report:

Impressions of Saigonese Soups (and other secondary things)

Visit to Ben Tre including a snake farm, lots of coconuts, and heaps of fresh fruit.

Trip to Laos (and an afternoon in Thailand) at the invitation of my host family.

Slippery Green Leaves of Grace

2010-01-21T16:29:00.002+07:00

The spring rain has begun. I heard it falling and splashing under motorcycle tires from my bed this morning. Naturally I was not looking forward to being wet and cold and most likely late for work because the buses are always overloaded on rainy days. But for some reason, when I left the house, umbrella in hand, what I noticed was not the mud in the gutters or the puddles or the dripping hem of my left shirtsleeve, but rather the way the rain made all the branches of the trees black and the leaves a slick and vivid green.

The reason for this happy turn of events was that as I was walking to the bus stop I saw that the gate of Hà Pagoda was open and decided to step inside, buses and work be damned.

Perhaps the fact that I've lived for a year and a half in a city of four million honking scooters has eroded my standards for quiet. Or perhaps there really is something about a walled garden, incense, a fishpond, and rain falling on a tiled courtyard that is more silent than silence. In either case, the effect was the same: I began to settle down. And since praying is what you do in a pagoda, I started to pray. And as I prayed, I was given a gift.

As I watched the incense float heavily off into the wet air, the gift I received was the realization that this is not about me. Yesterday was not about me, or what I did, or how much fun I had with my friends last night. Today is not about me, or the long soggy commute to the office ahead of me, or the computer I will sit in front of when I finally get there. And tomorrow is most certainly not about me either, or about the pain and pleasure I will experience then. And because it is not about me, I am free to notice the world for what it is, rather than for the obstacles it puts in my path. I am free to notice the color of the leaves in rain.

I cannot put into words what a relief it was to remember this, what a relief it is every time I truly pray to remember that I am not the center of the universe, nor the master of my own destiny. So I won't try. Let it suffice to say simply that I walked through an open door like grace and received there the eyes to see the true color of things. The true color of my small self, and the true color of this majestic, sopping wet, slippery green world made by God.

Civic Pride is the New Patriotism

2009-12-16T09:58:00.002+07:00

Oh, Hoàn Kiếm Lake!

Oh, Hero-King Lý Thái Tổ!

Oh, morning traffic!

Oh, pork trotters with noodles,

and the star fruit tree on my balcony!

Oh, Hà Nội! May I count the ways in which I love you? You speak my 3rd language; you are my 9th home. And though, admittedly, that sounds less than romantic, can I help it that I was born into a family of modern-day gypsies? I have loved each of my homes, but you are indeed something special. And what do lovers do best but write each other love poems? Here, for you, Hà Nội, the first love poem I have ever written to a place:

For Hanoi, after a stroll along West Lake

And what if you do speak my third language? Have I not loved you as my own—yes, and even more than all the other cities?

Did I not just this afternoon discover a shred of quiet lakeside that took my breath—such was the contrast between

the joyful, eager madness

of a Friday route home and

the fishermen of this afternoon

who with such sedate patience cast

and reeled, cast again, and reeled.

With same such patience I have wound myself into your streets. Just to know

the taste of phở at dawn

the scent of the milk flower in fall

the baking heat and wet

when we all go about mad as hornets or

too tired to pick a fight.

Have I not felt

the quiet triumph

after downing a cà phê nâu nóng

before accomplishing a single thing and

the chagrin of spending three times the going rate on xe ôm?

Your charms and your traps, I have fallen for them all. Will you not acknowledge it?

I was not born into your rose-colored past, but I can see

as clearly as any your writhing present, and my heart

aches with the pangs of a patriot to see

Thống Nhất Park

laid waste in the name of progress and luxury hotels.

And the more subtle shock of peering from under

the ancient tiled roofs of
Quốc Tử Giám to see

a bevy of tuổi 'teen' in plastic hip-hop sleek

with matching smirks.

Have I not loved you all the more for your contradictions?

I have been there in the green quiet, and the red smoke,

and the gritty traffic I have become

part of your scenery, watching you

attentively from under a banian. Will you deny it?

Oh, blazing,

running, crashing,

howling, growing city of my third language, so painstakingly learnt and loved—

Will you still take me for a tourist?

-----------

phở = the national dish, a soup made with flat rice noodles

cà phê nâu nóng = hot espresso with condensed milk

xe ôm = motorbike taxi

Thống Nhất Park = Unification Park (formerly Lenin Park), the largest park inside the city

Quốc Tử Giám = the Temple of Literature

tuổi 'teen' = teenagers

-----------

Now, about the title of this post. There is something about being in a foreign country, and especially about making that foreign country into your home, that makes you see your native land in a different way. I have never been one to be very patriotic. A brief survey of 20th century world history—even a glance at the morning news—was enough to replace any pride I might have had with shame at my country's bloody escapades. But as the holidays approach and my thoughts turn more frequently towards the land of my birth, for better or for worse, I have realized two things.

First, that every country has its sources of shame. Some of Vietnam's sources of shame I have hinted at in the poem above. Consumerism, lack of respect for the environment, etc. But you will notice that it is equally full of sources of pride and affection that allow me to accept it for what it is. Why shouldn't it be the same with my own country?

And second, that

The United States ≠ The U.S. Government
Or perhaps more accurately,

The United States > The U.S. Government
Even though the government is what holds them together, the states—and each distinct city and family within them—is its own animal, with its own set of flaws and charms. And while I still can't often hold my head up and proudly declare my membership in the "Yoo-nited States of Amerrrrica," I can indeed be proud of my family and of my city (whichever one that happens to be at the moment).

So today, even as I write love poems to Hà nội, I am feeling more comfortable with my identity as a native of the U.S. And I am confident that the ways in which I have learned to love this city will only help me all the more to love the next city I end up in. Isn't funny how things like this work sometimes? You have to love yourself in order to love others. You have to lose your life in order to save it. And sometimes you have to leave in order to really come home.

love,

Hannah

Welcome to Club 62 Nghĩa Tân! or, Third Time's the Charm

2009-10-07T15:37:00.001+07:00

Here it is, my home. For real this time.

After being kicked out of my home by the complication police, moving back in with my boss, and then passing a rather dramatic two weeks at a house which I eventually chose to leave, I have found a host family.

I have just posted a virtual tour of the house on facebook. And just in time to celebrate my move, Thế Giới Publishers held a children's Mid-Autumn Festival party in which I played the role of chị Hằng, the woman in the moon.

Here is a picture of my host family. From left to right, we have Tám (pronounced sort of like "Tom," means "eight"), Hiếu (pronounced "hew," means "filial piety") and Hạnh (pronounced kind of like "Hank," means "happiness").

Hạnh is my co-worker, so I call her "chị" (older sister) instead of "cô" (aunt). That makes her husband my older brother and her son my nephew.

This family is atypical in a few other respects, too. First, unlike most families, which have two children, this family has only one because, in Hạnh's words, it's "exhausting." Second, most nuclear families live with the husband's parents, but this family lives with Hạnh's father and mother, Uncle Huỳnh ("H-wing") and Aunt Hồng ("home," means "pink"). And third, my host "older sister" is a bad cook and has no shame in admitting it. We frequently eat out when Aunt Hồng is gone.

I can tell things are settling down now because I have established some solid routines. For instance, every morning chị Hạnh wakes me up at seven and I go down to the kitchen for my morning ritual.

This little domestic picture you see here is very dear to my heart because it is the 100% certified authentic Vietnamese way to get caffeinated: Trung Nguyên brand coffee beans (grown in Dà Lạt and roasted to a strength of 5 on a scale of 1-8), steeped in a stainless steel filter, sweetened with Ông Thọ* condensed milk, and stirred with a dinky tin spoon.

*Ông Thọ is the name of the god of longevity, who for some unspecified reason is always depicted with a protruding forehead.

Another routine dear to my heart is the morning commute. Check out this album to see the sights, some ancient, some modern, and all rather off-kilter and out of focus, that chị Hạnh and I pass every day on our way to work. Believe it or not, this is one of the highlights of my day because...(drumroll)...I have learned to drive motorbike!

Finally, a third routine we have developed is going out for evening drinks. We always order the same thing: fruit juice for me, iced coffee for anh Tám, and yoghurt coffee for chị Hạnh and Hiếu. The cup in the foreground is tea, provided free by the cafe.

I used to think it was lame when people always ordered the same thing, but I'm coming around to this routine thing. We are indeed creatures of habit. In the right amount, routines support us and let us know what to expect, like school and work schedules. They also refresh us, like the weekly rest on Saturday and Sunday. Or they keep us in shape, like regular exercise and going to church. So what I mean to say in this rather scattered blog post is, I am doing well. Thanks as always for your prayers and support.

Back to the Old Chopping Block

2009-08-14T15:54:00.001+07:00

This summer I have been lucky enough to take not one, but TWO vacations. Check out these albums.

Sầm Sơn beach was the site of my Very Vietnamese Vacation.

Then it was off to the U.S.A. to enjoy some genuine hometown Americana.

Finally, "Optimus Prime goes to America" is the trilingual story of my four-inch friend, the transformer and polyglot Optimus Prime, who tagged along with me.

But the fun is now over, and I have to get back to the old chopping block.

I have been back in Hanoi now for three and a half weeks, and things are pretty much back to normal. By "normal" I mean to say that things are not going as planned. Just to make sure I didn't fall under the erroneous assumption that I really understand how things work in Vietnam, after a week with my new host family I was informed that I had to move out.

According to the police, that particular area--near the train station--is "complicated," and no amount of letters from MCC, from The Gioi Publishers, or even from PACCOM (the governmental branch that deals with NGOs) will convince them to let me stay. And apparently it's not about fishing for bribes, either. Nope. It's just..."complicated."

So I am back at my boss's house, which is not so bad because it means I get to hang out with the new SALTers, Calah, and Alicia, whose blogs, by the way, are also awesome. (Click on their names! Do it!)

This year I will be working half-time with MCC projects and the other half with The Gioi Publishers. For today I'm at The Gioi, and I had forgotten how entertaining it can be sometimes at the old chopping block. At the moment I am hacking away at a French-to-English translation entitled "The Land" (as if there were only one in the world). Here are some delightful tidbits:

"The Vietnamese traditional town is a vegetal one." (p.2)
"Resorting to geomancy and the equilibrium of flux, the town does not at all break up with its landscape territory, but rather integrates it in man's dwellings and works in a continual and permanent way." (p.3)
"Thus, beyond the Western reading of the rupture between town and countryside, here, a first deep identity makes itself found. By doing so, a generating principle of the urban space of the delta gets clear, proceeding through the confined space of the villages." (p.4) [and so on and so forth for 21 pages]

If anyone can tell me what the "equilibrium of flux" is or what exactly it is that supposedly "gets clear," please call me. 0127410128.

In conclusion, as you can see, things are right back to normal. The combined mysteries of Vietnamese police and French academicians have thrust me back into nearly the same state I was in when I first came to Vietnam. Namely, a state made up of equal parts confusion and amusement, combined with a growing awareness that I have a lot to learn. It's not a bad state to be in. It almost feels like home.

Yet another thanks to those who helped me journey back home this July. It was both restful and fun. To those of you whom I was able to see, it was a joy. To those of you whom I wasn't, you are still in my thoughts and prayers.

God bless,
Hannah

Adventures in TV Stardom

2009-05-21T09:36:00.001+07:00

Everyone gets their 15 minutes of fame, but in Vietnam, if you are a foreigner who speaks Vietnamese, you can have a whole hour of it Tuesday night at 8:05.

Yes, I have now made my debut on Hanoi TV Channel 1's "Tuesday Night Talk Show."

In case the name isn't clear, "Tuesday Night Talk Show" is a talk show that airs on Tuesday night. The general premise is, get 10 young foreigners

together with 5 moderately famous Vietnamese celebrities

and have them discuss different topics. The topics I participated in were:

Your most embarrassing moment
Your best friend
Breaking up
Understanding American Culture

Because people from all over the world participate, you get quite a range of views on each subject, generating some pretty interesting conversation. For example, in the "Breaking up" session this young Chinese girl insisted that if your parents don't like your boyfriend/girlfriend, that's a good reason to break up.

When you throw a few comedians into the mix, the dialogue gets even better.

Then of course since this is Vietnam, where karaokes outnumber dance clubs 100:1, we just had to have some singing.

And then they had us tell all of North Vietnam our most embarrassing moments, breakup stories, etc.

And at the end we danced.

All in all, it was great fun. Plus it was a great opportunity to learn words like

"makeup" (trang điểm)

"lighting check" (kiểm tra đèn)

"cute MC" (MC dễ thương)

and most importantly, "totally wonderful friends who came to support me and to whom I am very grateful" (các bạn cực kỳ tốt bụng đến cổ vũ em, và em rất cảm ơn)

A very special thanks to Mr. Long, my boss, who took all these pictures.

Homeward bound

2009-05-18T10:39:00.001+07:00

Xin cảm ơn! Mil gracias! Thank you so much to all who responded to my cry for passage. I now have enough money to get home. In fact, I even have a little extra, enough to cover language lessons for three months!

I will be in the US of A from July 12 through August 8. I am really looking forward to rest and to the chance to see my loved ones. I hope to make a trip out to Grand Rapids during the first week of August, so if you will be in the area, give me a shout at ani.forsythe@gmail.com.

Once again, thank you for your help, and may God bless you as you have blessed me.

Hope to see you soon.

And here is another batch of photo albums that have accumulated on facebook. Click on the title to be transfered to the album.

Standard tourist fodder: Everyone is always all "have you been to Ha Long Bay yet?" like if you haven't been there you haven't really lived yet. Well, now I can hold up my head with the rest of them.

Symphony in Green: Sri Lanka is now going through some serious conflict. During a trip there, fellow MCC worker Max Ediger and I visited the national botanical gardens. Even in a country at war, there are places of peace.

Pagoda under construction: Most of the pagodas I visit are small, quaint, and older than I can even imagine. The Bai Dinh Pagoda, however, is different in every respect.

Mr. Long's Wedding: Mr. Long, one of my English students, got married just after Tet this year. I was invited to be part of the party going to pick up the bride.

G-nam

2009-04-21T16:13:00.001+07:00

It started with google search .vn, then came gmail, googledocs, and blogger in Vietnamese, and now it's gotten as far as google maps. Vietnam has joined the g-world.

Here is a very pretty picture of G-noi. And for a really surreal experience, check out the satellite view where you can almost see my house on hong mai street. Creepy.

But this is a recent development. A few months ago when I needed to figure out how to get to the central post office, I instinctively sought out google maps, innocently assuming that the g-minions had gone ahead of me photoing, labeling, and uploading every last inch of this city.

I was forced to return to my well-worn analog version.

The only thing google maps had to say about Hanoi included a few major streets and a pink hot air balloon labeled "A" where, presumably, the precise center of Hanoi was located. This caused me a fair bit of anxiety. How was I going to find anything? What if I got lost, would I actually have to talk to someone? If the city of Hanoi didn't exist in virtual form, could I be sure it existed in reality?

= REAL?

And this epistemological concern gave way to another, related question, namely, why do I feel the need for a digital map? Why can't I feel comfortable in a city unless it has already been explored, cataloged, pre-chewed and regurgitated, as it were, for me?

I think that the anxiety stems from my fear of making mistakes, of making a wrong turn, of looking like a fool. But that's what the Bible calls us to be. Fools. Not people who know what we are doing or even where we are going every step of the way. Christians are not called to be impeccable; we're called to love our neighbors as ourselves.

No one likes to make mistakes, but the simple fact is that mistakes are one of the most effective learning tools. And what did I come here for, anyways? To be perfect? No way! I came here to learn about a new culture, a new language, and about myself and God, too. So let's get out there and start making some mistakes!

I began this post with my discovery of the brand-new g-version of Hanoi now available, but what I discovered soon after is that I don't actually need it. Within the first month of being here, I already knew how to get to work, to school, to the MCC office, and home, and more importantly, I knew that if I got lost it was actually not the end of the world. Are you listening, google? Because if you are, you can take this as my declaration of independence. I don't need you. I can find it on my own.

And to prove it, here is a list of several places that I discovered before you did.

My workplace, Thế Giới Publishers (the building with the v-shaped roof)
My place of study
My favorite coffee shop, Puku (letter B)
My favorite bookstore, the Bookworm (actually, google, you got it wrong. It's been moved to Yến Thế street.)
My favorite museum, the National Arts Museum
My favorite pagoda, Trân Quốc

The list goes on, and on, and on...

And this goes for you, too, friend. If you find yourself depending on Google to do your living for you, take it from me: you don't need it. Google and all its functions are a nice tool for getting some work done fast. But it's just a tool. You still have the right to exercise your free will while you are using that tool. And if you happen to make a mistake with your free will...well, that's what grace is all about.

Help Hannah visit the motherland!

2009-03-17T20:50:00.000+07:00

Dear friends and family,

Before starting my second year with MCC Vietnam, I was greatly looking forward to visiting home in August, seeing family, and getting some much needed rest. Unfortunately, I have recently been told that MCC will be unable to pay for this visit.

My choices are to either forgo this trip or to pay for it myself. Since my finances are limited, I am appealing to you for help. Below are instructions on how to make a donation in my behalf.

Rount-trip tickets usually cost around $1,300. That's a hefty sum for one person, but if 13 people donate $100 each, or if 26 people donate $50, then I would be set!

Once again, thanks to all of you who have been praying for me and responding to my e-mails with encouragement.

Online donations (must use credit card):

Go to http://www.mcc.org/donate/donate.html and fill in all the necessary information.
When you get to the section "Designation," choose "Other." It should look like this:

Amount

Designation

$ *

Add/Remove
designation (max. 5)

When you get to the comments section, please put "donation to PDA of Hannah Forsythe, MCC#613428." It should look like this:

Comments regarding your donation

Donations by check:

On the check memo line, please write "For PDA of Hannah Forsythe, MCC#613428"

Make your check payable to MCC and send to:

Mennonite Central Committee
PO Box 500
Akron, PA 17501-0500

Disclaimers:

1. Since this is my personal request to you, and not an official donation to MCC, it is not tax deductible.
2. If I happen to receive more money than I need for a plane ticket, the remaining amount will be used towards language study.

Just for fun:

A few weeks ago my host sister invited Rosie and me to go to Hải Phòng for her friend's birthday. There was a flower festival in full swing, as well as a carnaval.

My lovely host sister Thanh enjoying the flowers:

She and her friend (also named Thanh) on a carnaval ride. Their expressions are fairly representative of my own feelings when I realize yet again that I am living halfway across the world. What a ride!

Top ten things I like about Vietnam.

2009-03-12T11:02:00.001+07:00

As mentioned previously, I have been considering staying in Vietnam for another year. Now it looks quite certain that I will. I have had my fair share of culture shock and loneliness while here, but it can't shake the certainty that I love this country! Thank you to all of you who have prayed for me and responded to my e-mails, letters and posts; you have been a great support.

When you really like a place, it's a good idea to write down the reasons why. Then later on, when culture shock comes back in full force and you question how you got yourself into this place where nothing makes sense...well it can be a helpful reminder that even if you don't understand anything, there are still some things you like.

So here is my top-ten list of things I like about Vietnam.

10. Naptime is a must.
9. In the Old Quarter, there is a coffee shop about every ten meters.
8. Disney channel is NOT just for kids, and vegetables are NOT just for grownups.
7. Escargo can be had for pennies.
6. On the side of the road on a typical day you can buy the following: bunnies, goldfish, jackfruit, lottery tickets, cell phone stickers, roses, and haircuts.
5. It's totally okay to burp. And pick your nose. Seriously, everyone does it!
4. Purple jeans are normal.
3. It's okay for people of the same sex to hold hands in public.
2. Bún bò, phở cuốn, avocado shakes, pork rolls, yogurt coffee (or is it coffee yogurt?), and bún chả, i.e., the reasons I gained five pounds my first week here.
1. In the city of Hanoi, you can go just about anywhere that's worth going to by bike.

Who wants to be a millionaire?

2009-02-02T12:43:00.001+07:00

Tết, the Vietnamese lunar new year, and the country's most important holiday by far, was celebrated this year on January 26. Click here to see how I rang in 2009, year of the buffalo.

Being born a buffalo (or ox) myself I was very much looking forward to this particular year. I was, perhaps, even a little inordinately proud of my achievement of having been born in the year 1985--until, of course, a friend informed me that the buffalo, being a slow, hardworking animal, is generally seen as an augury of hard economic times--and my bubble was duly burst.

Like Christmas in the good ol' US of A, Tết is accompanied by its fair share of consumer-driven frenzy. Nevertheless, the pitch never rises to quite the level of, say, 5:30am at Best Buy the day after Thanksgiving. Fear not, Americans, you are still the unquestioned champions of world capitalism.

For example, rather than giving individual gifts, Vietnamese families often buy something for the whole family, such as a better (i.e., bigger) refrigerator (see exhibit 1) in the case of my host family.

For friends of the family, common gifts include cookies, giò (Vietnamese sausage) and the traditional bánh trưng (ingredients: pounded sticky rice, mung bean paste, pork fat, banana leaf wrapping; exhibits 2 and 3 show the cake wrapped and unwrapped, respectively). Right solid peasant fare that, designed to put extra flesh on the body with the highest degree of efficiency possible.

One exception to the general non-individual-gift-giving rule is the practice of giving lucky money to children and, occasionally, to elders. These gifts are usually handed over in the presence of the whole family with or without a pretty envelope to conceal the total amount given.

Upon learning of this, my delicate North American sensibilities were a bit jarred at first. What, you mean you just fork out cold cash? You mean no wish lists? No secrecy? No midnight wrapping whirlwinds or breathless trips to the third mall of the day to find that perfect gift that will let her know this year you really truly do understand her deepest wants-needs?

But then common sense made her blessed entrance and I came to the following four realizations:

Giving straight-up cash saves a lot of wasted presents, not to mention relational stress and forced thanks-for-the-socks-grandma smiles.
A related point: since gifts range from vnđ10,000 ($0.57) to vnđ200,000 ($11), in the end, less money is spent.
Even if you can count exactly how much lucky money you're worth to uncle Tien as he hands it to you, by the end of the day the envelopes and loose cash are so mixed up it's hard to remember who gave you how much.
With an exchange rate of 17,000 VN đồng = $1 U.S., I realized that by the end of the first day of Tết I had become a millionaire.

Perhaps my new found wealth has gotten to my head; nevertheless, despite the direful predictions of economic experts world over, I have a good feeling about this year. If Valentine's day and the February blues have got you down, why not consider hopping on a plane to sunny Vietnam, snagging a job as an English teacher, and becoming a millionaire in a matter of weeks? It would certainly change your perspective--by about 195 degrees Longitude to be exact.

Chúc Mừng Năm Mới - Happy New Year

Photo albums galore

2009-01-14T13:46:00.002+07:00

Like a good tourist, I have been diligently taking pictures. And posting them, too. Just not here, until now. Take a look! They have genuinely interesting captions, I promise!

Christmas, Part I, was spent in Hue, Central Vietnam.

Christmas, Part II. The highlight for me was the giant Christmas tree made of Heineken bottles.

Hanoi, Capital of Cool, will be celebrating it's 1,000th birthday in 2010. Talk about history! New York's got nothing on Hanoi.

The Ceramic Village: Bat Trang This village, just outside of Hanoi, has been in the business of making ceramics for nearly 1,000 years.

Trung Thu (Mid-Autumn Festival) is a celebration mostly for kids in mid fall. Besides eating moon cake until it comes out one's ears, the festival is celebrated by going to the night market in the Old Quarter. Very carnaval-esque, just without the rides.

Happy Christmas (war is over) in Vietnam!

2009-01-14T11:27:00.001+07:00

This is my Christmas message. Also please see my Christmas photos: Part I, and Part II

After a month or more of silence I am writing to wish you a belated Merry Christmas and to tell you a little about mine in hopes that it will encourage you this season.

A few days before Christmas, Rosie and I went to Hue in Central Vietnam, where we met up with her dad Dennis and Max Eddiger, an MCC worker who also happens to be an old friend of Dennis. Among other sightseeing, we visited the DMZ (demilitarized zone) which marked the separation between North and South Vietnam during what the Vietnamese call "the American War." DMZ is actually kind of a misnomer. During the war this zone was flattened by bombing and laid waste by chemical defoliants. It was anything but demilitarized.

We also visited an underground network of tunnels dug by a Vietnamese village trying to hide from the bombing. The tunnels included family rooms (one meter square), a schoolroom/meeting hall, and a maternity ward where seventeen babies were born. (The maternity ward was 2 meters deep, 1 meter wide, and 1.5 meters high.) In the museums we saw pictures of terrified American soldiers and wounded Vietnamese. We saw twisted metal that was once airplanes and bomb casings. I was born in 1985, so it is hard for me to understand that era, but during that trip the fact of war in this beautiful country became clearer and more real in my mind.

Back in Hanoi, it was at the back of my mind as we sat down to Christmas dinner. There were some friends of ours eager to meet Dennis and compare stories with him. As they chatted over the same table and shared the same meal, something else became clear to me: the war is over. Not just the fighting, the war. How else could it be possible for people from former enemy states to come together like this? How else could it seem so natural? The greatest wound of war--that is, the hate of one people towards another, the dehumanization of the enemy--this has finally healed.

As I sat there I suddenly
became aware that the carols we had been listening to had given way to a song by John Lennon whose words I was now feeling more deeply than ever, "Happy Christmas, war is over."

Christmas was yesterday and new wars are now being fought in other parts of the world. But be of good cheer, the Prince of Peace is born and he will wipe away every tear. May the thought of Vietnam, that little green country now at peace, encourage you in this hope.

Your friend and sister in Christ,
Hannah

"A funny thing happened in asia the other day..." Vol. 1 Ed. 3

2009-01-14T11:08:00.001+07:00

This edition was sent in a mass e-mail on 1 Nov. 2008

Dear friends and family,
I hope you all have been well. Some of you may have heard on the news that Vietnam is experiencing record-breaking rains. It's true. Two days ago I never expected to find myself riding on the back of a motorbike going the wrong way down a street with water washing up to my ankles, but that is exactly where I found myself Friday evening at 5:05pm.

At 4:50pm, when I looked out my office window and saw that water had washed over the sidewalk and was lapping the edges of our building, I turned to my coworkers Thuan and Long and asked point-blank "what am I supposed to do?" Miss Thuan kindly offered to take me home, and we promptly donned our ponchos and shed our socks and shoes. As we passed waterlogged motorbikes and taxis abandoned in the street I was simultaneously scared I might not make it home and disappointed that I hadn't brought my camera along for the ride.

For lack of a camera, I resort to two pictures downloaded from the internet.

Here is a link where you can see more like them.

Up top is a picture of me in full rain attire (note the shoes in a plastic bag).

But before you are shocked and horrified at the terrible hardships I am suffering, consider this: rain, to Vietnamese, is like snow to Michiganders. Any tropical-born foreigner who experiences a Michigan blizzard for the first time is shocked and horrified at the sheer amount of it, and no less so by the behavior of Michigan natives as they go on with their lives, apparently oblivious to the peril to life and limb all around them. The foreigner might even write letters home about it (complete with photos downloded from the internet and pictures of themselves in full snow attire). These Americans! he/she exclaims in disbelief, How can they put up with this? The answer, of course, is that they (and their parents before them) have been putting up with it before they even knew what "it" was. And there are so many other things that keep them there: family, friends, the leaves in fall, etc. The same is true for Vietnam. The city of Hanoi alone is nearly 1,000 years old. A little rain--even a lot--is not going to make it wash away overnight.

"A funny thing happened in Asia the other day..." Vol. 1 Ed. 2

2009-01-14T10:46:00.002+07:00

This edition was sent out in a mass e-mail 19 Sept. 2008

The Vietnamese like to use Western characters for decoration, kind of like how we Westerners decorate our dorm rooms or tattoo our bodies with Chinese characters: because they look pretty--not because we know what they mean. As you can imagine, this leads to many semantic accidents. English phrases often pop up in the most surprising places. Here are some of the most whimsical examples I have come across:

-My thermos has a picture of a circus elephant and the words "Happy Time Ability"
-My bathroom trash can depicts a Roman Centurion, complete with chariot and war gear, who decrees: "Happiness to everyone!!!" (or else)
-On the chopsticks bin: "Work is glory!"
-On my host-sister's shirt: "Smoking glue doesn't keep families together."
-On many, many "sporty" t-shirts: ATHLENTIC GREAR
-And my personal favorite, the following t-shirt

Poor guy. And of course, since there are two sides to everything, let me give you a sampling of what I sound like to the Vietnamese: "Hello...Mr...can help me...um...Bach Mai street where?...um...repeat?...mmm (vigorously nodding)...

mmm (confused look)...thank you very much." Repeat again five minutes later. Eventually I find my way.

That's all for now! I hope you have enjoyed edition 2 of "A funny thing happened in Asia the other day..."
much love,
Hannah

Second things second

2009-01-13T13:43:00.001+07:00

It occurred to me that some of you may want to know details like, what do I actually do all day, who do I live with, how do I get around, and other practical things like that. It also occurred to me that practical things like that should probably have gone in the first entry. But the title "first things first" has already been used. So...second things second:

- Work: English editor at Nhà Xuất Bản Thế Giới (The World Publishing House). Mostly, I edit a magazine called "Vietnam Cultural Window," which is given to guests of the ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism. Here is the link on the publishers' website: http://thegioipublishers.com.vn/en/magazines/index.php?cat=1

- Home: I live with the Nguyen family. If you know anything about Vietnam you should be laughing right now because upwards of 50% of Vietnam has the surname Nguyen. My host family consists of Grandma, Dad (Tâm), Mom (Loan), brother (Tiến, age 21, currently studying in Japan), and sister (Thanh, age 19).

- School: Rosie and I used to go to language school 3 half-days a week, when MCC was paying. Nowadays we go once a week. Our teacher is Miss Giang ("Zang") and our fellow classmates fluctuate from week to week. But the majority are Korean and don't talk terribly much, in case you wanted to know.

- Transportation: Bike. Despite the heat in summer I loooooooove biking because in a tiny, traffic-clogged city like Hanoi it gets you there fast and in style (see above and decide for yourself).

Want a better picture? Just can't get enough of me? Well, here is a link to a facebook album entitled "My daily life in Vietnam."

Or if that doesn't work, try http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2062427&id=15302590&l=e27cfc4470.

First things first

2009-01-13T13:02:00.000+07:00

You may wonder why, almost halfway through my year in Vietnam, I am just now starting a blog. The answer is simple and timeless: peer pressure.

Everyone is doing it. And now it's my turn to join the lemming crowd. But first things first; just because I wasn't blogging before doesn't mean I wasn't thinking before or writing about what I was thinking. Here is the first mass e-mail I sent back home to give all my loved ones the real scoop on what real people do in the very real country of Vietnam:

"So a funny thing happened in Asia the other day..." Vol. 1 Ed. 1, 1 Sept. 2008

On Friday Rosabeth and I went to the zoo. It was independence day weekend, so many families were out enjoying the park and the lake that surrounds the zoo. All of a sudden, as we were crossing the bridge over the lake, we saw what looked like giant plastic gerbil balls floating in the lake---with children inside of them!!!

We drew closer in order to investigate...and sure enough, that's exactly what they were: giant plastic inflatable balls with children inside of them, floating in the lake. It looked like a childhood dream of mine come true. Attached is a picture for your viewing pleasure.

As we stared at the floating gerbil balls in disbelief, a young couple suddenly approached us, placed their children in front of us, and proceeded to take a picture. I hadn't considered myself to be one of the zoo's attractions, but apparently that's what we were. Then it dawned upon me that we, with our pasty complexions, ungainly proportions, and preposterously large eyes were quite possibly even more out of place than that poor porcupine in the cage over there. And as strange as giant plastic gerbil balls might plausibly seem to a normal person, the truly strange thing in the park that day.....was us.

I hope you have all enjoyed this edition of "A funny thing happened in Asia the other day..."
Until next time,
Peace and blessings,
Hannah