work: part 2

So as promised (a long time ago), this blog will explain my work at Action for the City (www.vidothi.org/en). Yay! Action for the City is a Vietnamese NGO which I usually describe as doing "sustainable urban development" or something of the sort. Its mission is this:

To improve the quality of life for all in Hanoi and other cities by increasing community participation, bringing common voices to policy-makers, and using a variety of creative forms and media as tools for social change.

It works at this mission by focusing in three areas:

(1) Environment: We work to slow down the process of climate change and create a healthy environment for all. (2) Social development: We work to reduce urban poverty, promote equal access to social services and advocate for disadvantaged groups. (3) Creative urban living: We work to bring out and celebrate the creativity of individuals and communities for a sustainable lifestyle.

In practice, these goals take the form of projects like working with local farmers to produce and market organic vegetables (healthier for the farmers, consumer and environment and also increases income); organizing university students to evaluate the food safety at street food shops and spreading the information among their peers (though they're delicious, food poisoning from such places is quite a problem); holding workshops for local offices about "greening your workplace" led by foreign specialists on behaviour change; organizing a Green Transport Day on which people are encouraged to go by foot, bike or bus, as opposed to private motor vehicle; and running a massage clinic that employs visually impaired massage therapists.

My work with ACF for the past five months has been focused on the last two of these projects. For Green Transport Day, I have worked at creating the structure for the event and putting together invitations and educational material for the NGO offices that we are targeting this year. The day originally was scheduled in May, but has now been changed to September 22 in order to coincide with World Carfree Day. So I won't be here to see it happen. As usual, things change a lot and do not turn out the way I had expected. Oh well.

Me at the AFC office

The concept map for Green Transport Day, which I am attempting
to turn into a proposal for a potential partner organization

I also teach English to three recently trained massage therapists at Just Massage (www.justmassage.org.vn), which was opened by AFC in 2007. I meet with the students, Miss Hoa, Mr. Dan and Mr. Thang, and also Miss Dung, an older therapist who speaks more English and helps me teach, once or twice a week for 2.5 hour classes. Here, we practice the English they need to know in order to serve foreign customers (about half their clientele)--things like "please take off your clothes!" and other such helpful phrases--and work on basic vocabulary like introducing oneself, common adjectives and talking about dates, times, etc.

From left: Miss Dung, me, Miss Hoa and Mr. Thang. Mr. Dan was absent for this photo op

They are eager to learn and enjoy encouraging each other and laughing together. "Septovember," "twelveteen" and learning to sing and dance the "Hokey Hokey" provided some recent laughter breaks. Often I quite forget that they can't see, or not very much anyway. Like when we were learning colours, I asked them to name one thing for each colour and then they'd learn a new noun as well as the colour word (e.g., a tomato is red). Later I realized, Oh! Maybe they've never seen the colour of a tomato! Oh dear. But they didn't have much trouble coming up with items for each colour and didn't act offended by the task... so I hope it was ok. Mostly, there is just less pointing and pantomiming than in one of my usual Vietnamese conversation and more touching, like having them feel the proper index-finger-extended-skyward Hokey Pokey hands.

Perhaps because they are visually impaired, because they are massage therapists, because they are Vietnamese or a combination of all the above, they are very touchy in general. Which is great for me really, as I dearly miss my hugging buddies at home and sometime feel chronically under-touched. So I usually get felt up (just by the girls!) at some point during class. There are comments on what I'm wearing--Oh, what a beautiful skirt! Is it from America? Or Ah, today you wear pants like ours! (linen drawstrings)--they can't believe my hair is not permed, and recently we discovered belly buttons, which I explained in English by tapping the buttons on their polo shirts. Class almost always ends up being fun, even when I arrive grumpy about having to interact with people first thing in the morning. I usually leave with a smile.

So perhaps I'm making AFC sound like a really great organization... and (in my humble opinion) it really is. I am continually amazed by the inspired, committed, brilliant half-dozen young Vietnamese women who make up the regular staff. There are also local and foreign volunteers like myself who pass in and out regularly.

Staff pic from this fall (before I started). The guy... I don't really know who he is.
Sometimes I see him around, but his work remains a mystery.

From my perspective anyway, this group accomplishes that oft talked about but uncommonly achieved goal of integrating knowledge gained elsewhere into a local context in a healthy way. Most of the staff have studied abroad in Western countries and somehow have avoided acquiring that unfortunate disdain for their own culture, which is often the result of such education. And now have returned to their home community because they love it and desire to make it a more wonderful place to live.

Observing them and noticing how naturally their actions seem to flow from this place of love and understanding is inspiring. And makes me realize that, at least for a long long time, that will never be me in Viet Nam. Or in most other places around the world either.

I like my work, at MCC and AFC, and feel like it's generally helpful, but I always feel I am a guest, just passing through. Which is guess is the nature of a SALT term, as it's only one year. But with almost all the foreigners I know here, there is always this feeling when you're forming a relationship that, sooner or later, one of you is going to leave, and it will probably be sooner. Even for people who have lived in the region for many years, there's always this time in the future when you'll go back "home," a stash of your possessions stored at your "permanent address" or in your parents' basement, which you'll be ruined with when you return to your "real life."

There's something that feels unsustainable about such a lifestyle. But also... I'm learning so much. I feel I'm becoming a better person for my experience here. I begin to understand how people don't want to stop once they get started on traveling and living abroad. But do I catch a whiff of addiction? Always looking for your next hit of challenge, the kind that rocks the foundations of your beliefs. There's something exhilarating about it, like being caught exposed in a thunderstorm. Am I living vicariously off the thrill off others' "exotic" lifestyle? But is it also selfish to just "take" the experience and learning the I gleaned here back to my home community for its own enrichment?

These questions of HOME and ROOTEDNESS and WOULD I EVER WANT TO DO THIS AGAIN? tug at my mind as I take part in this ultra-mobile globalized lifestyle, available only to the small and highly privileged percent of the world's population I belong to.

So I guess this turned into a post about more than just my work. But my favourite times in life are when all parts of my life seem interconnected, each enhancing all the others. During the good moments anyway, I do feel I am living that way here.

Blarggg!

Just a note to say, yes, I'm just alive, though my recent life has obviously not included blogging. This makes me want to say Blarggg! (see, I've even forgotten how to spell "blog") because it's been on my TO DO list for quite some time now. Someday soon, really!

In general I've been doing quite well, so please don't mistake my lack of communication for a personal crisis or anything. Hope this finds all my loyal readers (if you're still checking this site at all) well and happy and enjoying springtime wherever you may be. Hopefully soon you can add "reading a blog entry from Rosabeth!" to your list of blessings.

WORK: part 1

So as you may or may not have noticed, I have avoided talking about my actual JOB here in Viet Nam so far on this blog. This is mostly because, until maybe two months ago, I had little confidence that if I wrote something, it would be accurate for very long; i.e., my job has changed a lot.

When I left home, I thought I would be doing two part-time jobs: (1) English editing at a government publishing house and (2) English editing at the National Committee for the Advancement of Women (NCFAW), a government agency. Since then, my job description has changed 100%.

Within the first week, I was asked if I'd be ok with switching from the publishing house to assisting Max Ediger, a long-term MCCer. This was fine with me, and it's worked out quite well. I worked pretty irregularly at NCFAW until the end of the year. They were undergoing some big administrative changes, and it was basically just a bad time to have a volunteer. No one's fault really, but still no fun for me. So in January, I started working at Action for the City, a local NGO that does sustainable urban development work. I've been really impressed with and inspired by the organization... and also feel it's quite hard to work in community organizing when you're a foreigner to the community.

So my week looks like this: 2 days at MCC, 2.5 days at Action for the City and 1/2 day of language study. This post will be devoted to work at MCC, with a "part 2" following, which will explain my work at Action for the City. So...

It's about a 15 minute bike ride from my house to the MCC office. After making my way along half a mile of crowded market street, I am always reminded where to turn:

After letting myself in the locked gate, parking my bike and changing from street shoes to the requisit rubber sandals, I am greeted by Chu Nhung (left, office handyman) and Chi Oanh (office administrator).

On the way to my work space on the third floor, I stop to get a drink and say good morning to Co Tu, the best cook in Viet Nam who MCC has the good fortune of employing.

My next stop is Max's office, where we set the direction for my day's work and generally "cut the breeze" as you say in Vietnamese--something like chatting about nothing of import.

And then it's on to the office I share with the two Vietnamese project officers. In the picture below is Co Vinh (left) and Co Bay. Co Vinh actually just retired (a sad event for everyone at the office), so now it's just Co Bay and Co Van Anh (not pictured). I wanted to get a picture will all three of them, but apparently it's very bad luck to take a picture with three people, as that's the number of insense sticks you put on a dead anscestor's alter. So here's just the two... looks pretty luck to me, but you never can tell for sure.


And here's me hard at work! Or at least enjoying my tea.


So what do I do all day "at the office"? What a convenient phrase, eh, which usually requires no explanation. Well, my work for the year has mostly stemmed from the Center for Justpeace in Asia workshop I attend with Max in Nepal in October (see Nov 11 post). The theme of the workshop was "Our Stories/Our Challenges," and it brought together NGO and CBO (community-based organization) workers from all over SE Asia to share their stories and challenges, building solidarity and collaboration.

Since then, I have been working on articulating the common challenges that came up--for example, internally displaced people due to war, international NGOs arriving to "help" but with thier own agenda, reintegrating ex-combatants post-war, dealing with the violence of the economic developement that often follows the end of a war, and many more--and then gathering together the stories that were shared by workshop participants, as well as stories from affiliated friends, which illustrate those common challenges. The goal is to have a publishable book by the time I leave.

Right now, that goal seems pretty doable if I keep working steadily. We have all the stories collected and now are working on editing, writing background material, the introduction and organizing it all. Max if often traveling, which makes it kind of hard to work for him, but at least when he's around, I feel quite energized and interested in the work. In any case, I've been exposed to many very intereting stories and learned a lot about the past and present conflicts of SE Asia. I think the content of the book is pretty powerful, I just hope other people will read it!

And when I start to feel a little crazy after looking at a computer screen for too long, there's always lunch in the middle of the day! Hooray for lunch! Co Tu has been working all morning and she never disapoints. Below is a picture from Ana's (wife of CR) birthday lunch, so it's a bigger crowd than usual, but you get the idea.


So there you have it: a day in the life of Rosabeth at the MCC Viet Nam office! Check back soon (hopefully) for a report on Action for the City!

Where does my 10,000 Villages Christmas ornament come from?

Well, my friend, I'll tell you! It comes from a village called Bat Trang in northern Viet Nam, about a 30 minute drive from where I live in Ha Noi. The name of the village literally means "pottery guild." I visited there during my first week in Viet Nam (see blog entry from August 23) and returned for the second time just yesterday with Hannah (fellow SALTer), Co Bay (MCC project manager) and Gordon (visiting MCC program evaluator). It was fun to go again and understand so much more of what I heard and saw than the first time. And once again, I was so tickled and mind-blown to see the familiar 10,000 Villages products at their source!

I'm not sure why I find this so exciting... maybe something to do with the material disorientation and disconnection that comes along with a globalized economy: having no part in the production of your things, never knowing quite who it was that made them, where they come from or how they come into being. At this point, this disconnect is so totally normalized in the "developed world" that we don't give it a second thought. But what about the trill in the particular beauty of a bunch of flowers you planted from a seed, or the touch of the farmer's hand as she hands you a bunch of radishes she nurtured in a spot of earth you can point to, or the pleasure of regarding a little jewelry box with your name carved into it that your grandpa made? It seems to me that with each point of personal connection we have to a commodity, with every string that ties it into the core of our hearts, so its value increases. The harder it is to discard it to the back of a closet or to the landfill. And when we value and enjoy our things for our relationship to them, the less it seems like we need more. Like when you have several intimate personal relationships, it doesn't make you want to go out and make a bunch of new superficial ones.

Well, I wasn't really planning on that meandering reflection, I just wanted to show you these pictures! But there you have it. And now for the pictures...

Like on our first visit, we got a tour of Mr. Kinh's workshop. 60% of his production goes to a Vietnamese fair trade agency called Craft Link, and 10% of that goes to 10,000 Villages. He told us that Craft Link is the most transparent and fair buyer he works with, and later he announced that "MCC understands Vietnam the most!" I'm supposing this means out of all the foreign organizations he has worked with.
The craftspeople (mostly young women) are either family members (part of his family that has made ceramics here for the past 500 years) or local farmers who do ceramics part-time. They mostly sit in clumps, working together on one project, in this case, painting the design on round Christmas ornaments to go to 10,000 Villages.

The Christmas balls are sorted into baskets - painted and unpainted - like different varieties of eggs at the market.

Each brush stroke is unbelievably quick and precise.

All was going smoothly and efficiently until those pesky foreigners arrived and asked to take pictures!

The finished product, hanging shiny and gorgeous in the display room upstairs. I bet it would look great on your Christmas tree too!

After we finished at the workshop, Mr. Kinh (above) took us on a tour of the oldest part of the village, including a stop at his mother's house for tea. It's ALWAYS teatime! On the floor of what used to be the family workshop and is now her living room, sits a jug, like one you'd find at any 10,000 Villages, in it's natural habitat! Mr. Kinh is chuckling as Hannah makes this comment to him while I take the picture.

I'M FINALLY 21!!!

...And in here, where there no such thing as a "legal drinking age," it means nothing. Oh well, I already turned 19 in Ontario. And who needs to get intoxicated to have a crazy, out of the ordinary and exciting day in Viet Nam? Not me. It happens every day!

So celebrating my day of birth (March 2) farther away from where it happened than ever before was extra special, and what made it extra extra special is that my mom and Aunt Kate were here as part of the festivities! What a wonderful gift. Here is a photo tour of the big day...

When I walked downstairs in the morning, the party was waiting for me! Actually, my host-family had already left for work and school, so Mama, Kate and I had a nice private kick-off to the day.

We had lunch at the MCC office, complete with delicious food (that's nothing new there), fancy flowers, a new birthday shirt (being modeled), singing and cake. Above is pictured almost all the MCC Viet Nam staff, minus two people.

Then off to Just Massage, a massage clinic that employs visually imparted young people where I teach English to new therapists twice a week. But this time I was not working! Here's me with my friend Dung, one of the older therapist who helps me with teaching and who had just given me a fabulous massage!

Kate and Anne chilling at after-massage coffee break. Vietnamese coffee is basically a good choice after of before anything... expect maybe not before sleeping!

Upon returning home... "Are you ready to be SUPRISE?" I prepared myself and...

...was not disapointed! My little sister Bong (complete with "hair just like mine") was lying in wait, along with ballons and a host of stuffed animal friends there to "enjoy the party."

The excitement continued with a big dinner at a restaurant down the street attended by my real family, my host-family, a bunch of their friends and a bunch of my friends.

After that, the real and host families and I went to the Indian neighbours' house for a tea party... but I forgot to take pictures. Oh well.

The final, and possibly best, part of the day was opening the big stack of cards from folks at home, which my mom brought along. Seriously, along with the visitors in person, I could not have asked for a better birthday present this year. My never ending gratitude to those of you who contibuted the kind words of encouragement and wisdom (and the chocolate, not pictured). As the clock neared midnight, my last birthday act was to tape all the cards on the wall above the head of my bed, where they continue to shine their blessings on me every night.
(In case you were wondering, the poster was there before [I love it too] and the handson lad keeping watch over my bed is my host-brother, who is presently studying in Australia.)

My life is a photo montage

Hello blog friends! Again, I apologize for the long lapse in posting. It’s actually been kind of a rough time around here recently. A host-family change, some relational upheaval and the mid-service term blues all conspired to give me a pretty traumatic past month. I don’t really feel like spelling it all out on the good old world wide web, so if you’re curious, you can either (a) ask a close friend or family member of mine when you run into them at the supermarket or (b) email me (rosabethbk@gmail.com) and I’ll probably be happy to hear from you give you an update.

In my new host-home, I have my own room. Previously I shared with a 23-year old host-sister. I feel kind of crappy about my Western space-hogging sensibilities, but there they are none the less. I really like having some space to call my own. So recently I’ve been enjoying such luxuries as putting my posters and photos up on the wall, joyfully lingering over the arrangement of my possessions, swinging my window opening in the morning (my old room didn’t have one), being naked when I want to be, reading my book undisturbed, lighting a candle, doing yoga, and listening to the music of my choice. In a time when I’m in need of some extra self-care, these small joys of self-possession are indeed a blessing.

During a recent yoga practice, I was listening to music on my laptop, and after the allotted 5 minutes of inactivity, the screensaver kicked in and began cycling at random through my photos. Every time my eyes came forward, I would catch a glimpse of a moment in my life that happened to get captured in the click of a camera.

Eventually, I stopped the yoga all together and went to squat (Asian style) in front of the shifting screen. As each picture came up, it seemed to trigger a bursting sunbeam in my head, illuminating some forgotten grassy hollow of my brain. And as each memory presented itself and I stumbled forward to meet it, its smell, the touch of it on my cheek, its feel in the pit of my stomach, and its fullness in my mouth broke open before me anew. Like one of those hinged plastic Easter eggs filled with the chocolate of my rich and joyful life so far.

Eventually, the computer completed its screen-saving mission, switched to the blank, black colour of sleep, and I returned to yoga. But those 10 transcendent minutes of photo montage have stayed with me and I keep returning to them in my mind and to the memories they recall.

I arrived in Viet Nam with the determined intention to be PRESENT in the PRESENT!, the idea being that the past, the future and all beings outside my immediate experience should not distract me from fully sensing each moment as it comes. Sounds good, right? However, in practice, the rewards of pursuing the present have proved frustratingly illusive to me.

I don’t really know what’s gone wrong with my intention, but seems it’s time for me to try something new. After beating the present to death and succeeding in the production of a muddy pulp, what a breath of fresh air to recall times when I wasn’t even trying, yet the sun made my hair glow, familiar arms fitted themselves comfortably around my waist and thankfulness poured from my heart and out my eyes.

Not so long ago, I’d say I had pretty much come to terms with being unhappy in Viet Nam... I’m here, this is a good experience, it’s worthwhile, but it is not and will not make me happy. At this moment in time, mostly thanks to the rousing effect of a couple recent crises, I’ve decided that, in fact, I’m not quite ready to settle for suffering.

With new inspiration and a new lack of clear intention, I’m feeling ok with the good sensations that come along with remembering the past. It feels good... in the present.

As I gazed into the pixilated past and lounged in memories of North American sunshine (SE Asian is more into hazy brightness), a more recent photo from Viet Nam came up... and somehow that one made me smile too. And I thought about how, in future when I’m somewhere else, I’ll see that picture and warmly recall the moment it features. So now I’m relishing thoughts of the future, and it feels good too… in the present.

It seems to me that enjoying the present has something to do with not getting stuck in it—just as you should not get stuck in pondering the past or the future—because the present was also the future and will also be the past... and the linear spectrum of past, present and future… it melts together into a sphere of being.

Below are some of those photos that flashed by. I know this blog is supposed to be about Viet Nam, but when the past, present and future are all running together, I guess it's all relevant...

In the world, there are open spaces for breathing. I'm especially partial to the ones in my hometown.

I love people who smile when you kiss them, especially Maria.

Fresh cookies and warm light are delicious.

Me Lien (old host-mom), me and the pomelo peal enjoy each others' company.

Snow falls from the sky and Sarah and Miriam are my friends.

The Millrace + Bethy + bicycles + a Goshen summer + yoga + blue sky = my bliss.

The week before leaving for Viet Nam, the love surrounding and pushing me off was basically overwhelming...
"I can't stand feeling so full of happiness anymore, I just need to leave!"

I remember am capable of doing crazy things... like shaving all my hair off! It's fun. And then it grows back.

Christmas and such

Dearest blog readers,

In fact I have not dropped off the face of the planet! My sincerest apologies for my neglect of you over the last month and a half. So much to report on! Here's some of it...

My dad and I recently spent a lovely week and a half together over Christmas! He arrived in Ho Chi Minh City (the national capital in southern VN) where he met up with Max Ediger (MCC co-worker of mine and old Bethel College friend of his), and the two of them spent about a week working their way north, visiting American (Vietnam) War-related sites all the way. They were both involved in the anti-war movement back in the day, so I think it was a fascinating experience to visit some of those places they did not go. Well, actually Max as in VN during part of the war with MCC... in any case, still interesting. Hannah and I met up with them in Hue, a small-ish city in central Viet Nam. Here we spent a day in the old De-Milliarized Zone, the DMZ, which divided North and South Viet Nam during the French and American occupations. We visited a network of tunnels used during the war by villagers in hiding and resistance fighters, as those who opposed the Americans are known here. Right: Hannah and me feeling a little clostraphobic, closely followed by Indiana Jones, a.k.a, my father Dennis. Below: Papa and me after exiting the tunnels (wheew!) near the shore of the South China Sea.

Also in the DMZ, we visited the cite of an American air base, compete with rusting war relics and a small museum. Below left: an old killing machine now surrounded my wild flowers. Below right: a photo in the museum titled "Vinh Linh female militias' smile." Though it seems the Americans have never really realized it, we were largely defeated by women in Vietnam. For example, the American soldiers thought that women who wore black clothing were sympathetic to the Viet Cong, while women who wore white supported the American forces. In fact, many female resistance fighters would just change their clothes depending on the identity the wanted to take on. Who would have thought women in Vietnam could possibly be so clever?? Anyway, I particularly liked this picture because I know women here who smile just like that, and I can just imagine the laugh that follows the smile and the speeding words and intonations of a funny story being told around the lunch table. And it seems to me, when you can not just look at the pictures and read the reports about war, but know in your mind's eye how the people depicted in sound and move, war simply becomes an absurd impossibility.

We also took a family-operated boat tour down the Perfume River and visited several gorgeous old pagodas and temples. Left: Tam, the captain of the boat, Max, Hannah and Dennis. Below: a view of the tomb of King Minh Mach, though it's much bigger than what this picture shows, lots more of gardens, arch ways, walkways and pagoda-ish buildings.



All together, it was really great to have a change of scenery for couples days and visit some intriguing new parts of Viet Nam and get to share the experience with my dad, as well as Hannah and Max.

CHRISTMAS! We all returned to Ha Noi on Christmas Eve morning. My dad, Hannah and I spent the next couple of days relaxing at Derek and Ana’s house (though they were in Cambodia with Ana’s family at the time). We went to a the joint Christmas Eve service of our international church (Hanoi International Church) and the other international church in town (Hanoi International Fellowship... creative names, I know). Then we returned to Derek and Ana's to exchange gifts and generally enjoy a cozy Christmas time with hot cocoa and the Messiah playing in the background. Right: our little little Christmas tree. Left: look what I got for Christmas - a Hannah! Isn't she cute?

For the next couple of days, I took my dad around Ha Noi, visited the MCC office, we met my extended host-family for dinner and joined in the excitement of Viet Nam winning the ASEAN soccer cup! Following the conclusion of the game, he, Hannah and I walked the 30 minute walk between my house and Derek and Ana's and joined the hordes of people racing their motor bikes down the street, waving flags, beating drums and yelling "Viet Nam Vo Dich!" - Viet Nam is the Champion! Quite thrilling. And everyone thought it was very funny to see these three white people joining in the celebration. White people are so just so silly!

My dad left on December 29 after a very full visit to Viet Nam. I want to thank him for taking the time and money to come visit me here. And it's such a privilege for all involved that he was able to do these things. Since then, I've been getting on alright... sometimes more homesick, sometimes less, always learning. Please keep checking here to hear more coming in the future, hopfully with more regularity than recently! Chuc mung nam moi (happy new year) to you all!