The Second New Years in Vietnam

As the clock struck midnight on December 31^st and boisterous Westerners were out partying, staring in awe and anticipation as the “ball” made its predictable descent towards Times Square, and as lavish displays of fireworks lit the dark night sky from California to the Middle East, a few Vietnamese joined in the excitement, but most were happily asleep and probably had been for a while. The real New Years in Vietnam usually occurs about one month after the Western one (though this year it was about 6 weeks later) as the Eastern world moves into a new year in the lunar calendar. There is an enormous amount of anticipation of the Tet (the name of the holiday) celebration in Vietnam that is somewhat comparable to the lead-up to Christmas. People spend weeks preparing for the holiday by cleaning their houses, cooking traditional foods, and traveling back to their hometowns (in an American Thanksgiving-like fashion). Almost everyone has at least a two-week break for Tet and as a result, most stores, restaurants, cafes, and other businesses close for the entire holiday. During the holiday, most time is spent with family and friends relaxing, eating, and drinking copious amounts alcohol. And if you’re in Cao Bang, the latter is taken especially seriously. Because of the family-and-friends nature of the holiday, it was recommended to me when I came to Vietnam that I use that time to travel, so I did. When I got to Cao Bang, though, and as the holiday neared, everyone in the community was asking about my plans and hoping that I would stay in Cao Bang during the holiday to celebrate with their families. I don’t regret leaving Vietnam during that time, and while it would have been amazing to experience the holiday with the people of Cao Bang, I think it would have been extremely overwhelming and filled with far more rice wine than I would ever wish on anyone. On top of those reasons, I felt that given my limited amount of time in Southeast Asia, two weeks was too good of an opportunity to travel to pass up. And, most importantly, my grandparents decided to come to visit me and took me on the trip of a lifetime.

I met my grandparents in Hanoi and after a few days exploring, they agreed to brave the long ride up to Cao Bang. We spent two nights (one full day) in Cao Bang during which we walked around the town and went to the Pac Bo Caves. In addition, I was glad that my grandparents got a full flavor of Vietnamese culture as my principal invited us all out to a big dinner at which several families went above-and-beyond to welcome my grandparents to Cao Bang and wish us a happy (Lunar) New Year. I was also glad that they got to meet some of the people with whom I’ve become very close like Mr. Anh (who studied in Hawaii and has really taken me under his wing here) and Ms. Tuyet (my co-worker and host whom I’ve written about before) who invited us to have dinner in her home with her family.

After the short stay in Cao Bang, we headed south to Siem Reap, Cambodia. The Siem Reap that tourists see, in my opinion, is a fairly unimpressive place that resembles a boardwalk in Atlantic City or Wildwood, NJ with bars, flashing lights, and more t-shirts for sale than you can imagine. The real downtown area of Siem Reap, though, where relatively few tourists venture is a fairly small and poor city surrounded by immense poverty. Cambodia, which was once the capital of the Khmer empire that ruled much of Southeast Asia for over 600 years, is now for many reasons a struggling country. While there’s certainly serious poverty in many parts of Vietnam, it seemed much more the norm in Cambodia as the moment we left city limits in both Siem Reap and Phnom Penh, we were witness to what seemed to be strikingly poor living conditions. What Siem Reap lacks in charm, though, it more than makes up for with its historic temples, kingdoms, and monuments. Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom, and Ta Prohm (which you may recognize from Tomb Raider) are incredible beyond words. I’m not even going to try to describe them because my writing simply can’t do justice to their immensity and unbelievable beauty. All I can say is, look them up on the Internet, and if you ever have the chance to go to Cambodia, do it—it was truly a once-in-a-lifetime sightseeing opportunity.

Our next stop was Phnom Penh, a far more developed city than Siem Reap (at least the non-tourist part of Siem Reap), but for a capital city, still not comparable to other major Southeast Asian cities (certainly not to the ones I’ve seen in Vietnam i.e. Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh City, and Da Nang). What makes Phnom Penh particularly interesting is the legacy of Pol Pot, the Khmer Rouge, and the genocide that took place under their rule from 1975-1979. The highlight (probably not the best word for it) of Phnom Penh, for me, was a visit to Tuol Sleng Prison, an old schoolhouse that was turned into a prison by the Khmer Rouge to house anyone and everyone who was ethnically, culturally or otherwise unlike them or who disagreed with them—or really just whomever else they felt like putting there. The events that are recounted in the prison are horrific and the destruction that the Khmer Rouge inflicted on their own people and on the future of Cambodia as a nation is unthinkable, and as a result, the country is nowhere near recovered. Worse yet, is the undisputed culpability of Western nations, namely the United States, for helping to cause and, even more so, for standing on the sidelines watching one of the worst genocides in human history ravage an entire population. The sickening reality of it all, though, is that despite the hundreds of battered human skulls still displayed in the prison and the thousands more littered throughout the nearby killing fields, and despite the extensive collection of horrific photos, and despite the meticulously kept records that still exist, the genocide has been relegated by the West to a historical afterthought barely worthy of inclusion in our textbooks.

Next, we departed Cambodia for Yangon, Myanmar. First, let me address the prevailing question of the name of the country. Is it Burma? Is it Myanmar? Some combination of the two? So, while this is a contentious debate that is steeped in years of history and political turmoil, I’ll do my best to share my limited understanding of it. Historically, the country has been named Burma. After the military junta staged a successful coup in 1989 and began its rule, they changed the name of the country to Myanmar. I have heard conflicting accounts of the differences between the meaning of the two names and what the country should be called. When I was in the country, I was told to call it Myanmar. It was explained to me that Myanmar was a colonial name for the country and that it meant something along the lines of “everyone.” Burma, on the other hand, according to this person, is a name that refers exclusively to one ethnic group (the dominant one in the country). Upon doing more research, though, I have seen some articles that say that Burma and Myanmar mean the same thing. In any event, most countries around the world and the UN refer to the country as Myanmar. However, a few countries, most famously the US and the UK, have continued to use Burma claiming that the junta did not have the requisite political legitimacy to change the name (interestingly, though, during a visit to the country at the end of last year, President Obama did use Myanmar). To make matters more complicated, I had heard that revered pro-democracy opposition leader and national hero Aung San Suu Kyi finally began to call the country Myanmar as well. In my limited research, though, I have not found anything to support this claim. Anyway, since I was told to call it Myanmar and since the people whom I met there called it Myanmar, you can call me a democracy-hater, but that’s what I’m going to call it.

Unsure of what to expect, we were promptly welcomed by a fascinatingly idiosyncratic society. Men and women wear kilt-like garments called longyi, they drive on the right-hand side of the road but with British-style cars in which the steering wheel is also on the right side of the car (this was really bizarre), almost everyone, no matter their age or gender, wears a yellow chalky makeup called thanaka that they often apply in different patterns on their faces, and a huge percentage of the population chews betel (a piece of betel nut, wrapped in a betel leaf, mixed with some lime juice and tobacco) and the streets are literally stained red from the dark red color of spit that chewing the mixture produces. Of our three stops in Myanmar, Yangon was the one at which we got the most feel of Burmese life, culture, society, and history. Yangon is a fairly large city with a distinctively British (or just European) feel (Myanmar was a British colony until 1948). The two major takeaways from Yangon, for me, were a sense of the political struggles in Myanmar and the overwhelming role that Buddhism plays in Burmese society. The first time we rode in a cab, the driver started talking to us and in no more than 30 seconds of conversation said something along the lines of, “I hate this bullshit government.” This kind of talk, though not necessarily as blunt, didn’t waver over the course of the visit. Sadly, it is very clear that virtually nobody who isn’t in a position of power has any respect or admiration for their historically (and currently) oppressive government. Next, Myanmar is about 90% Buddhist and of that 90% almost all are practicing. Almost all of the Buddhists (therefore the large majority of the country), at some point in their lives, spend time living and studying in a monastery or a nunnery. This means that people of all ages in Myanmar, for their entire lives, move between civil society and these religious institutions making for a unique cultural dynamic. Sightseeing in Yangon was highlighted by visiting a monastery and a nunnery and by a trip to the truly remarkable Shwedagon Pagoda.

The next stop was Bagan. Bagan is a much smaller city north of Yangon that is a pretty dry, dusty, desert-like place. But, Bagan is known for its thousands of Buddhist temples that scatter the landscape. One evening when we climbed up to a high point on one of the temples our guide challenged me to take a picture (without shooting straight up or straight down) that didn’t include a temple, needless to say it was impossible. For the most part, we spent our time in Bagan just exploring all of these different and beautiful temples. The highlight of Bagan, by a huge margin, though, was a hot air balloon ride that we took at sunrise over the many temples.

For the last stop on our journey, we went east to Inle Lake. Inle Lake is a gorgeous lake that is surrounded on all sides by mountains. What makes the lake so special, though, are the communities that have been built in and around it. There are entire neighborhoods of stilt houses and waterways in the place of roads. I can’t imagine a more relaxing spot to end an unbelievable trip. The trip was, without a doubt, one of the major highlights of my year here and I will be forever grateful to my grandparents for coming to visit, for bringing me on the trip, and for joining me on this yearlong adventure in Southeast Asia.

When I returned from the trip, the people in Cao Bang were reaching the tail end of their celebrations of Tet. Luckily, I was invited to join my co-workers one afternoon as they travelled, as a group, to each other’s houses. There were ten teachers in the group so we went to ten different houses and the routine was basically the same at each one—talk together, eat snacks, drink rice wine, and give children “lucky money” (I had exchanged some Burmese money for American dollar bills in Myanmar so that I could hand out singles to the kids when I got back and they were a big hit). I felt really lucky to be welcomed into this group and to get a first-hand experience of the Tet traditions.

March and April were pretty relaxed months and I spent most of them just hanging out in Cao Bang. There were a few exciting events and celebrations like Vietnamese Women’s Day and the anniversary of the founding of the Communist Youth Union that mostly just consisted of some big dinners and celebrations at the school. Finally, I got the chance to do some amazing sightseeing in Cao Bang that included a trip to a beautiful lake nearby and a weekend hiking trip into the mountains to an extremely remote village home to people in the Lolo ethnic minority group.

Teaching has been much of the same since my last post. I enjoyed teaching about the spring holidays and other fun events like March Madness and April Fool’s Day. In addition, this spring has been a time for some very rewarding teacher development opportunities. First, a few of the ETAs gathered in Lang Son (a province that shares a border with Cao Bang) for a workshop organized by fellow ETA Anna who has spent her year there. In addition to being an extremely well run and well-organized weekend, the workshop gave us a really interesting opportunity to get to see Anna’s school, meet her co-workers, and see Lang Son. In addition, since this year marks the 20^th anniversary of the normalization of formal diplomatic relations between the United States and Vietnam, the embassy decided to give us each up to $500 to execute micro-grant projects that contribute to our work in our provinces or our schools. I decided to use mine to start an English Teacher’s Club for English teachers from all over the province of Cao Bang. In late March we had our first event and it was a huge success. There were about 40 teachers in attendance and we all met in a restaurant to discuss challenges that we face in the classroom, how to overcome those challenges, and some ways that we can lend students more opportunities for leadership in the classroom in order to allow them to take more responsibility for and ownership of each lesson. In addition to the great conversation and exchange of ideas, the event was a really fun way for the teachers to get together (many of them had never met), enjoy a nice meal together, and practice their English. We will have another event this coming Saturday and I’m really looking forward to seeing how it goes.

In addition to my travels over the Tet break, I had some unexpected time off at the end of April that I used to see some new parts of Vietnam. First, I visited Can Tho, the largest city in the Mekong Delta where I hung out with fellow-ETA Ophir. Then we both went up to meet most of the other ETAs for a workshop that was organized by Sonia. We spent the weekend with an organization called PeaceTrees Vietnam that works in a province called Quang Tri removing and destroying unexploded ordnance (UXO) that is left over from the war (no, we were not doing the de-mining). Quang Tri and its neighboring provinces form one of, if not, the most heavily bombed areas on the globe. Apparently 80% of the land has yet to be cleared of UXO and the organization, which has been operating for 20 years, finds and destroys between 150-250 per week! For every UXO they find, they plant a tree in its place (though they didn’t trust us with the de-mining, we did plant a swath of land with new trees). The weekend was a sobering reminder of the destruction that the war caused in many areas of Vietnam and the efforts to recover that are long from over. After a few days in Hue visiting the Imperial City and many of the other beautiful tombs and temples that the city houses, we made our way to Hoi An for a night before I continued north to Sapa for a night—a town in the mountains of northwest Vietnam known for its stunning beauty and its large population of ethnic minority groups. All in all, it was a great and fairly impromptu trip that allowed me to visit many of the places in Vietnam that I once worried I’d have to skip.

Finally, as I wrap up my time here, I’ve thought a lot about what it will be like to return home (officially now on June 22^nd). I’ve been away for a long time. For the most part, other than missing my family and friends and the expected challenges along the way, being away from home hasn’t been so difficult. Of course, there have been events I’ve wished I could’ve attended and experiences that I’ve wished I could’ve had, but it’s not like I didn’t expect that. What has been tough about being away, though, maybe the hardest thing of all, was watching what’s gone on in Baltimore over the last few weeks. I’ve been in Vietnam since before Michael Brown was killed last August. It was hard enough being in Vietnam and watching the protests in Ferguson and the unfortunate string of all-too similar sequences of events in different cities around the country. But watching from Vietnam as civil unrest erupted in Baltimore was something different (let alone trying to explain, to the Vietnamese, what was happening). I can’t fully explain how I felt, but to say I was disappointed and sad to be here during that time is an understatement. I don’t even know what I would’ve done had I been home, but it was a time that I felt I needed to be there just to be a part of the community and I couldn’t. My connection to the communities of Baltimore City and Baltimore County, the two communities in which I’ve spent my entire life until these ten months, was reduced to depressingly simplistic Snapchats, texts, and Facebook statuses and miserable international news coverage. I’m sending my greatest hopes that we can all work to affect positive change in the immediate future and that communities across our country can work to become better, stronger, and more equal.

On a lighter note, knowing me and if my lack of blog-posting consistency is any indicator, this will likely be my last post from Vietnam. I’ll certainly have some wrap-up from home, but for now, thank you to all of you who have been so supportive of me throughout this experience and I look forward to seeing you all soon. What an incredible journey this has been.