my parents skyping me. aren't they cute?? i miss them. [:
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
random pictures
in accordance to the first listed goal from my previous post, here are some random pictures i took throughout the day today. enjoy [:
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woman taking a break from selling fruit.
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rose vendors. i noticed that a lot of people buy these tiny roses to use as altar offerings? (please correct me if i'm wrong!)
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not focused very well, but that's a BIG ASS BONG! the men here use these to smoke tobacco in very potent amounts (apparently, one hit is equivalent to smoking 1 pack of cigarettes at a time!)
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duck
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I was about to get a betta fish for my room, but then I found out that I would have had to feed it live blood worms. It never crossed my mind how convenient it was back at home to even just have packaged fish food! But anyway, I passed on the pet fish.
woman taking a break from selling fruit.
rose vendors. i noticed that a lot of people buy these tiny roses to use as altar offerings? (please correct me if i'm wrong!)
not focused very well, but that's a BIG ASS BONG! the men here use these to smoke tobacco in very potent amounts (apparently, one hit is equivalent to smoking 1 pack of cigarettes at a time!)
duck
I was about to get a betta fish for my room, but then I found out that I would have had to feed it live blood worms. It never crossed my mind how convenient it was back at home to even just have packaged fish food! But anyway, I passed on the pet fish.
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Friday, August 28, 2009
4 month goal plan
Goals:
1. To compile a portfolio of photographs that will embody what I feel is quintessentially Hanoi. (Basically, I just need to quit being lazy and start carrying my camera everywhere...hella touristy!!)
2. To get involved in an organization that will serve some sector of the underprivileged community
3. To quit smoking. Yikes, sorry cousins and sister, I know you’re reading this…please don’t tell mom and dad?
4. To not be so preoccupied with what is going on back at home, and to take advantage of as many opportunities here as I can.
list is tentative and growing!
1. To compile a portfolio of photographs that will embody what I feel is quintessentially Hanoi. (Basically, I just need to quit being lazy and start carrying my camera everywhere...hella touristy!!)
2. To get involved in an organization that will serve some sector of the underprivileged community
3. To quit smoking. Yikes, sorry cousins and sister, I know you’re reading this…please don’t tell mom and dad?
4. To not be so preoccupied with what is going on back at home, and to take advantage of as many opportunities here as I can.
list is tentative and growing!
beauty & truth
I am already nearly 3 weeks deep into the study abroad program, and so much has happened that I’m getting terribly lazy to even attempt to recap every single detail. And unfortunately my camera use has been just as languid, so I don’t even have sufficient pictures that can elicit all of the emotions and experiences that I have been through during these past weeks. So I apologize, again to my readers at home, how textually populated and dense my posts are becoming.
What I love most about this whole experience so far is that I’ve been challenged, through a range of different mediums and on varying degrees, every day since I’ve been here. My Vietnam Society in Transition class dares me to question the everyday infrastructure of Vietnam and forces me to put in perspective what kinds of changes and effects have transpired during this period of “development”. In my Vietnamese language class I’m not allowed to speak a word of English (so help me god). And of course, I’ve met the most diverse and inspiring group of people here, who have motivated me in so many different aspects. Grad students who are relentlessly working towards admirable causes, effervescent girls whose energies are only infectious to everyone around them, guys who audaciously approach and strike up a conversation with completely random strangers on the street… Everything about this program-my classes, my classmates, my fellow EAPers, my roommates, the Vietnamese people, the city- has been conducive to my self growth and has pushed me out of my comfort zone.
In response to my first blog post here, Thanh asked if Vietnam has thus far lived up to my expectations. In all honesty, I found this simple question to be difficult to answer, not because I feel conflicted about Hanoi and its multifaceted social, political and economical dynamics, but because I’m not even sure what my initial expectations were to begin with. I knew what I would be getting into; I anticipated the haphazardly dusty streets and the unorthodox system (or lack thereof?!) of traffic , knew that I would witness extreme class stratification, and understood that basic necessities back at home would conversely be luxury items here. But I was unprepared for many things. I was surprised at the kind locals who will go out of their way to help accommodate me. I’m still apprehensive everytime I cross the sea of honking trucks and motorbikes, unassisted by any streetlights. I still marvel at the tiny streets in Pho Co, each unsuitably named but aptly equipped with a theme of products catering to your every need, ranging from shoes to metal and tin tools. I feel disheartened when I see so many Vietnamese people living in such small spaces and in insufficient conditions, but simultaneously I am contemptuous towards extravagant plans of new development implemented by foreigners. The class disparity here is so inconsistent; how can one drive an SUV Porsche through the streets of a city whose average monthly family salary is around $70? I feel disconcerted by organizations that on the surface seem like they are a working towards a more fulfilling mission, but in reality the fundamentals of their system are so very flawed.
To answer (albeit longwindedly!) Thanh’s question, I think that ultimately Vietnam, for now, has lived up to everything that I had thought it would, but at the same time I have much more to learn, to see, and to experience. Although at times the incessant honking from the trucks and the extreme humidity drives me crazy, I still find Hanoi to be charming and beautiful and so enriched with cultural history. While some people may think I'm being naiive and overly optimistic, I personally would just like to think of it as trying to seek the beauty in everything, without having to compromise truth, ya feel? [:
my favorite i've taken so far. i love that it feels so tranquil, even amidst the chaotic traffic that is just a few steps away.
What I love most about this whole experience so far is that I’ve been challenged, through a range of different mediums and on varying degrees, every day since I’ve been here. My Vietnam Society in Transition class dares me to question the everyday infrastructure of Vietnam and forces me to put in perspective what kinds of changes and effects have transpired during this period of “development”. In my Vietnamese language class I’m not allowed to speak a word of English (so help me god). And of course, I’ve met the most diverse and inspiring group of people here, who have motivated me in so many different aspects. Grad students who are relentlessly working towards admirable causes, effervescent girls whose energies are only infectious to everyone around them, guys who audaciously approach and strike up a conversation with completely random strangers on the street… Everything about this program-my classes, my classmates, my fellow EAPers, my roommates, the Vietnamese people, the city- has been conducive to my self growth and has pushed me out of my comfort zone.
In response to my first blog post here, Thanh asked if Vietnam has thus far lived up to my expectations. In all honesty, I found this simple question to be difficult to answer, not because I feel conflicted about Hanoi and its multifaceted social, political and economical dynamics, but because I’m not even sure what my initial expectations were to begin with. I knew what I would be getting into; I anticipated the haphazardly dusty streets and the unorthodox system (or lack thereof?!) of traffic , knew that I would witness extreme class stratification, and understood that basic necessities back at home would conversely be luxury items here. But I was unprepared for many things. I was surprised at the kind locals who will go out of their way to help accommodate me. I’m still apprehensive everytime I cross the sea of honking trucks and motorbikes, unassisted by any streetlights. I still marvel at the tiny streets in Pho Co, each unsuitably named but aptly equipped with a theme of products catering to your every need, ranging from shoes to metal and tin tools. I feel disheartened when I see so many Vietnamese people living in such small spaces and in insufficient conditions, but simultaneously I am contemptuous towards extravagant plans of new development implemented by foreigners. The class disparity here is so inconsistent; how can one drive an SUV Porsche through the streets of a city whose average monthly family salary is around $70? I feel disconcerted by organizations that on the surface seem like they are a working towards a more fulfilling mission, but in reality the fundamentals of their system are so very flawed.
To answer (albeit longwindedly!) Thanh’s question, I think that ultimately Vietnam, for now, has lived up to everything that I had thought it would, but at the same time I have much more to learn, to see, and to experience. Although at times the incessant honking from the trucks and the extreme humidity drives me crazy, I still find Hanoi to be charming and beautiful and so enriched with cultural history. While some people may think I'm being naiive and overly optimistic, I personally would just like to think of it as trying to seek the beauty in everything, without having to compromise truth, ya feel? [:
my favorite i've taken so far. i love that it feels so tranquil, even amidst the chaotic traffic that is just a few steps away.Wednesday, August 19, 2009
obituary assignment: helen levitt
class assignment #2: reflecting on a chosen obituary from the economist.
--
As a semi-aspiring photographer myself, I was attracted to Helen Levitt’s obituary mainly because of her profession as a photographer. After reading through her biography I was entranced by her way with art, and simultaneously disappointed that I had not had the chance to appreciate her work while she was still alive. Isn’t it ironic, how so many artists earn recognition only in death? I remember reading somewhere not too long ago about how F.Scott Fitzgerald’s most famous work of the present, The Great Gatsby, had been highly criticized and ignored up until long after his death. Decades later, scholars are still analyzing The Great Gatsby and high school students throughout the country are still required to read this American classic. I suppose comparing Levitt to Fitzgerald is a bit of a stretch, because it is only I, and not a whole generation of people, who was not aware of Levitt’s photography. In any case, what I loved most about Levitt’s obituary was her portrayal as a self-reliant yet reserved woman who roamed around with her Leica, capturing the city she knew most and simply letting her photos speak for themselves. Her humility, in light of her amazing photography, is truly inspiring. It is my wish to capture Hanoi’s essence in a fraction of the same manner that Levitt had when she photographed New York City.
r.i.p helen levitt
--
As a semi-aspiring photographer myself, I was attracted to Helen Levitt’s obituary mainly because of her profession as a photographer. After reading through her biography I was entranced by her way with art, and simultaneously disappointed that I had not had the chance to appreciate her work while she was still alive. Isn’t it ironic, how so many artists earn recognition only in death? I remember reading somewhere not too long ago about how F.Scott Fitzgerald’s most famous work of the present, The Great Gatsby, had been highly criticized and ignored up until long after his death. Decades later, scholars are still analyzing The Great Gatsby and high school students throughout the country are still required to read this American classic. I suppose comparing Levitt to Fitzgerald is a bit of a stretch, because it is only I, and not a whole generation of people, who was not aware of Levitt’s photography. In any case, what I loved most about Levitt’s obituary was her portrayal as a self-reliant yet reserved woman who roamed around with her Leica, capturing the city she knew most and simply letting her photos speak for themselves. Her humility, in light of her amazing photography, is truly inspiring. It is my wish to capture Hanoi’s essence in a fraction of the same manner that Levitt had when she photographed New York City.
r.i.p helen levitt
autobiography
hello everybody! the following is an autobiography that i was required to write for class. conveniently enough we're all required to keep blogs throughout our stay in vietnam, so that means i am thereby obligated to write entries (good news for you!) [: reflection/photo posts are coming i promise! in the meantime, please dont read this. being coerced to be introspective and write about myself for 2 pages is terribly embarrassing...
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My name is Chau Bao Thi Vuong, born on August 29 1987 in the quaint city of Fountain Valley, California. I didn’t know it at the time, but my birth inadvertently put an end to my dad’s education, a struggling road to attain a PhD in Economics in pursuit of a better, more financially stable life for the family. With one more mouth to feed, in addition to my older sister’s, my parents had to drop all of their educational aspirations in order to find work to sustain their family. And thus my dad, a born scholar, was reduced to finding work alongside immigrant Hispanics in Southern California, driving in a sputtering, beat up Toyota truck and manicuring lawns in affluent neighborhoods to barely make minimum wage. When I was around 3 years old, my parents invested their entire bank accounts into a tropical plant nursery business. Scala Nursery was agonizingly slow to pick up, frightening my parents for 6 weeks straight when they barely made any sales. But sure enough nostalgic immigrant Vietnamese families eventually began filtering in to find plants from their homeland to bring back to their own yard. Memories of my childhood predominantly trace back to Scala Nursery, where for years my older sister and I would run around, finding entertainment in making mudpies and playing tag with our older cousin, who was like our brother, in the tall forests of guava trees. We didn’t realize it then, but while we were naively running around under the sun, our parents were slaving away to maintain the nursery and their household.
When business began to really pick up later, my parents bought their first house in a different part of Long Beach. My sister and I waved good-bye to our childhood friends and were subsequently transferred to go to school in a more distinguished and prestigious school district in Los Alamitos, a wealthy neighborhood in the northern most part of Orange County. In the cusp of adolescence, not only did my sister and I battle self-esteem issues, but we also struggled to fit in with a different set of friends who were on an entirely different socio-economic level than us. If there was any period in time in my life that I would never like to repeat, it would be middle school. Saying that I was awkward and confused would be a terrible understatement. I remember stealing lipstick from my mom’s vanity and plastering it on my lips in order to gain some kind of leverage among the catty group of girls I wanted to fit in with. I don’t suppose it worked, and furthermore I dug myself a deep hole with my parents, who didn’t find any importance in my pursuit of social acceptance and rather me focused on solely academics.
Fortunately, when I entered high school, this all dwindled down significantly. In high school I discovered my love for writing, manifesting my passion into contributing to the school newspaper and editing the annual yearbook. In accordance to my parents’ standards, I consecutively enrolled in honors and AP courses. I excelled in English courses, but conversely dreaded going to my math classes (to my dad’s utter dismay). I ran cross country and track for years, and was involved in various different extra curricular activities such as Conflict Mediation and Student Government. Senior year was a bittersweet culmination of my high school years; I had solidified relationships with some of my best friends today and was taking a set of relatively easy courses to make up for past years of hard work, but it was all rapidly coming to an end to usher in a new chapter in my life. In the end, not much thought went into my decision of where I wanted to go to college. I was rejected by the one school I had my heart set on, and I had decided to go to UC Irvine out of the sake of convenience and partly because my older sister had had such a good experience there. When the last couple of acceptance letters rolled in through the mail I was already so intent on going to Irvine that I completely disregarded anything thereafter. I’ve always wondered what my life would have turned out like had I chosen another path. Nevertheless I think I was happy with my choice at the time.
The summer after high school, I landed my first job and internship at Rhythm & Hues Studios, a privately owned visual effects studio based in Los Angeles. It was my first experience with a full-time job and despite having to wake up at 5:30 every morning to battle LA traffic, I loved it there. My internship kept me busy and made the transition into college easier. In the following September I moved into the dorms at UC Irvine and began the next phase of my life that would focus primarily on obtaining my degrees in Literary Journalism and Sociology. Of course, there were several distractions and detours along the way. I didn’t begin taking classes specified for my first major until sophomore year, and I found out then that Literary Journalism is vastly different from conventional journalism, which is what I thought I had signed up for. Literary Journalism warmed up to me though, and ultimately I fell in love with the art and the level of skill and intimacy it required to excel. I met wonderful professors from all different spectrums of the newspaper business, all of who have inspired me. I’ve produced some of my best work through these classes and am grateful for all of the people that I have met.
During my first couple years of college, I took up a job at a Venezuelan chocolate café to help pay for my expenses. My parents protested against me working while simultaneously going to school, but I did it anyway. It was certainly a step down from the internship I had at R&H, but it was a job and at times it was enjoyable. I learned to make mochas and americanos as professionally as how i learned to deal with irate customers. My next job was as a Marketing and Events Coordinator Intern for the on-campus career center. In all of my activities on campus, I was most involved with SAGE Scholars, a competitive program that helps its scholars develop leadership and professional capabilities and to find internships. Through SAGE I met many other highly motivated students who have constantly inspired me. I ended up working for my SAGE advisors and for the SAGE Program during my senior year, where I TAed two undergraduate classes and helped managed the program’s efficiency and their website. Aside from SAGE, I also wrote occasionally for the school’s newspaper, tutored and conducted academic workshops for local underprivileged high schools, and was involved in several social organizations.
In a turn of events, I decided to apply for the study abroad program in Vietnam for the Fall of 2009. I had always wanted to go abroad and I knew that this would be the last opportunity to do so, but up until the very last second before I boarded the plane I was filled with trepidation of what was to come. I had been offered a reasonable job, had a boyfriend whom i loved, and was beginning to develop new hobbies and interests, had a group of amazing friends whom I adored, and was simply just living a stable live that i was more than complacent with. But therein lay the problem, it was a life which with i knew i would always be comfortable. Hanoi would have been different. I understood that this would change my life, and although I knew that I would only be beneficial to my self-growth, I was still nervous.
I walked in the Humanities graduation ceremony in Spring 2009 alongside two of my best friends, even though technically I don’t graduate until after I come back from the Education Abroad Program in Hanoi, Vietnam. I’m still unsure of where I'd like to be and what I’d like to do afterwards; part of me still wants to pursue the Law path that I had been contemplating for years, while a different part of me wants to continue my writing streak and attend grad school for Communications and try my hand at PR. Whatever the case, I just hope Vietnam will help me to further grow and find my way. [:
--
My name is Chau Bao Thi Vuong, born on August 29 1987 in the quaint city of Fountain Valley, California. I didn’t know it at the time, but my birth inadvertently put an end to my dad’s education, a struggling road to attain a PhD in Economics in pursuit of a better, more financially stable life for the family. With one more mouth to feed, in addition to my older sister’s, my parents had to drop all of their educational aspirations in order to find work to sustain their family. And thus my dad, a born scholar, was reduced to finding work alongside immigrant Hispanics in Southern California, driving in a sputtering, beat up Toyota truck and manicuring lawns in affluent neighborhoods to barely make minimum wage. When I was around 3 years old, my parents invested their entire bank accounts into a tropical plant nursery business. Scala Nursery was agonizingly slow to pick up, frightening my parents for 6 weeks straight when they barely made any sales. But sure enough nostalgic immigrant Vietnamese families eventually began filtering in to find plants from their homeland to bring back to their own yard. Memories of my childhood predominantly trace back to Scala Nursery, where for years my older sister and I would run around, finding entertainment in making mudpies and playing tag with our older cousin, who was like our brother, in the tall forests of guava trees. We didn’t realize it then, but while we were naively running around under the sun, our parents were slaving away to maintain the nursery and their household.
When business began to really pick up later, my parents bought their first house in a different part of Long Beach. My sister and I waved good-bye to our childhood friends and were subsequently transferred to go to school in a more distinguished and prestigious school district in Los Alamitos, a wealthy neighborhood in the northern most part of Orange County. In the cusp of adolescence, not only did my sister and I battle self-esteem issues, but we also struggled to fit in with a different set of friends who were on an entirely different socio-economic level than us. If there was any period in time in my life that I would never like to repeat, it would be middle school. Saying that I was awkward and confused would be a terrible understatement. I remember stealing lipstick from my mom’s vanity and plastering it on my lips in order to gain some kind of leverage among the catty group of girls I wanted to fit in with. I don’t suppose it worked, and furthermore I dug myself a deep hole with my parents, who didn’t find any importance in my pursuit of social acceptance and rather me focused on solely academics.
Fortunately, when I entered high school, this all dwindled down significantly. In high school I discovered my love for writing, manifesting my passion into contributing to the school newspaper and editing the annual yearbook. In accordance to my parents’ standards, I consecutively enrolled in honors and AP courses. I excelled in English courses, but conversely dreaded going to my math classes (to my dad’s utter dismay). I ran cross country and track for years, and was involved in various different extra curricular activities such as Conflict Mediation and Student Government. Senior year was a bittersweet culmination of my high school years; I had solidified relationships with some of my best friends today and was taking a set of relatively easy courses to make up for past years of hard work, but it was all rapidly coming to an end to usher in a new chapter in my life. In the end, not much thought went into my decision of where I wanted to go to college. I was rejected by the one school I had my heart set on, and I had decided to go to UC Irvine out of the sake of convenience and partly because my older sister had had such a good experience there. When the last couple of acceptance letters rolled in through the mail I was already so intent on going to Irvine that I completely disregarded anything thereafter. I’ve always wondered what my life would have turned out like had I chosen another path. Nevertheless I think I was happy with my choice at the time.
The summer after high school, I landed my first job and internship at Rhythm & Hues Studios, a privately owned visual effects studio based in Los Angeles. It was my first experience with a full-time job and despite having to wake up at 5:30 every morning to battle LA traffic, I loved it there. My internship kept me busy and made the transition into college easier. In the following September I moved into the dorms at UC Irvine and began the next phase of my life that would focus primarily on obtaining my degrees in Literary Journalism and Sociology. Of course, there were several distractions and detours along the way. I didn’t begin taking classes specified for my first major until sophomore year, and I found out then that Literary Journalism is vastly different from conventional journalism, which is what I thought I had signed up for. Literary Journalism warmed up to me though, and ultimately I fell in love with the art and the level of skill and intimacy it required to excel. I met wonderful professors from all different spectrums of the newspaper business, all of who have inspired me. I’ve produced some of my best work through these classes and am grateful for all of the people that I have met.
During my first couple years of college, I took up a job at a Venezuelan chocolate café to help pay for my expenses. My parents protested against me working while simultaneously going to school, but I did it anyway. It was certainly a step down from the internship I had at R&H, but it was a job and at times it was enjoyable. I learned to make mochas and americanos as professionally as how i learned to deal with irate customers. My next job was as a Marketing and Events Coordinator Intern for the on-campus career center. In all of my activities on campus, I was most involved with SAGE Scholars, a competitive program that helps its scholars develop leadership and professional capabilities and to find internships. Through SAGE I met many other highly motivated students who have constantly inspired me. I ended up working for my SAGE advisors and for the SAGE Program during my senior year, where I TAed two undergraduate classes and helped managed the program’s efficiency and their website. Aside from SAGE, I also wrote occasionally for the school’s newspaper, tutored and conducted academic workshops for local underprivileged high schools, and was involved in several social organizations.
In a turn of events, I decided to apply for the study abroad program in Vietnam for the Fall of 2009. I had always wanted to go abroad and I knew that this would be the last opportunity to do so, but up until the very last second before I boarded the plane I was filled with trepidation of what was to come. I had been offered a reasonable job, had a boyfriend whom i loved, and was beginning to develop new hobbies and interests, had a group of amazing friends whom I adored, and was simply just living a stable live that i was more than complacent with. But therein lay the problem, it was a life which with i knew i would always be comfortable. Hanoi would have been different. I understood that this would change my life, and although I knew that I would only be beneficial to my self-growth, I was still nervous.
I walked in the Humanities graduation ceremony in Spring 2009 alongside two of my best friends, even though technically I don’t graduate until after I come back from the Education Abroad Program in Hanoi, Vietnam. I’m still unsure of where I'd like to be and what I’d like to do afterwards; part of me still wants to pursue the Law path that I had been contemplating for years, while a different part of me wants to continue my writing streak and attend grad school for Communications and try my hand at PR. Whatever the case, I just hope Vietnam will help me to further grow and find my way. [:
Monday, August 10, 2009
HANOI!!! (part of)
AHH!! I'm actually LIVING in Hanoi! It's day 2 (6 AM over here) and I'm already lagging on my blog posts. I apologize because orientation has been hectic and in conjunction to the festivities marking the commencement of our program I have also been battling a terrible case of BOTH jetlag and vertigo, so basically I've just been in a daze the past 24(+?) hours! It's been so bad that when I finally was able to retreat to my room last night, I plugged in my camera to extract pictures from the day and I accidentally deleted a whole days worth of documentation. ]: They wereo nly pictures of my room though, so nothing I can't retake.
Well, I was originally planning on having my camera be my salvation to this blog, and keep the writing as minimal as possible, but I guess since I don't have pictures I'm going to have to compensate with a condensed and detailed blog post hahah. SORRY! I promise I'll have pictures up??
THE FLIGHT
So preceeding my actual flight and landing in Hanoi, I spent the day doing last minute packing and hanging out with my boyfriend. I didn't actually get nervous until a few hours before my flight, when a couple of my best friends convened at my house to help send me off at LAX. Who were these lovely people?
and
Words alone cannot express how much i love these people. I was so grateful to have them there, to diffuse the anxiety that my mom was creating out of her frantic neurosis from me traveling, to support me in going to Vietnam, to share my last US meal (McDonalds fries & ice cream holla!), to play banangrams, and to just simply be themselves, amazing and wonderdul people. In the last couple seconds before I ventured through airport security by myself, I was bawling because I knew I'd miss them (and my parents too!) so much. Thank you for everything you guys! <3
THE FLIGHT
Goodness this is going to be long. I'll try to keep this short ?! My flight was basically a 17 hour contortionist trick, as I had to constantly twist and turn and stretch to find a position remotely bearable to be able sleep. It didn't really work, though. My first and only stop was at Taipei, and I wish I had my camera on board to take a picture of the beautiful lush green mountains that were enveloped in misty clouds. Definitely picturesque. I'd love to return there to travel and explore one day. I met Wayne from UCLA here, and together we gallivanted through the Taipei airport to await our flight.
HANOI
I arrived at Hanoi from Taipei at around 10:10 AM, and the first thought that crossed my mind was "JESUS it's hot". And that was only passing through the bridge from the plane to the terminal too, so little did I know what I was in for. Immigrations and customs were really nice, despite all of the rumors I had heard.
ANNNNNND I have to cut it short here. HAHA sorry this was the most anticipated section too. I promise to make up for it in the next post with lots of pictures.
And before I go, Happy 3 Year Anniversary David Umskies! I love you!!!!
<3
Well, I was originally planning on having my camera be my salvation to this blog, and keep the writing as minimal as possible, but I guess since I don't have pictures I'm going to have to compensate with a condensed and detailed blog post hahah. SORRY! I promise I'll have pictures up??
THE FLIGHT
So preceeding my actual flight and landing in Hanoi, I spent the day doing last minute packing and hanging out with my boyfriend. I didn't actually get nervous until a few hours before my flight, when a couple of my best friends convened at my house to help send me off at LAX. Who were these lovely people?
and
Words alone cannot express how much i love these people. I was so grateful to have them there, to diffuse the anxiety that my mom was creating out of her frantic neurosis from me traveling, to support me in going to Vietnam, to share my last US meal (McDonalds fries & ice cream holla!), to play banangrams, and to just simply be themselves, amazing and wonderdul people. In the last couple seconds before I ventured through airport security by myself, I was bawling because I knew I'd miss them (and my parents too!) so much. Thank you for everything you guys! <3
THE FLIGHT
Goodness this is going to be long. I'll try to keep this short ?! My flight was basically a 17 hour contortionist trick, as I had to constantly twist and turn and stretch to find a position remotely bearable to be able sleep. It didn't really work, though. My first and only stop was at Taipei, and I wish I had my camera on board to take a picture of the beautiful lush green mountains that were enveloped in misty clouds. Definitely picturesque. I'd love to return there to travel and explore one day. I met Wayne from UCLA here, and together we gallivanted through the Taipei airport to await our flight.
HANOI
I arrived at Hanoi from Taipei at around 10:10 AM, and the first thought that crossed my mind was "JESUS it's hot". And that was only passing through the bridge from the plane to the terminal too, so little did I know what I was in for. Immigrations and customs were really nice, despite all of the rumors I had heard.
ANNNNNND I have to cut it short here. HAHA sorry this was the most anticipated section too. I promise to make up for it in the next post with lots of pictures.
And before I go, Happy 3 Year Anniversary David Umskies! I love you!!!!
<3
Saturday, August 8, 2009
The countdown
In about 24 hours I will be, if all goes accordingly without any flight delays or complications, boarding china airlines flight 007 to journey half-way around the world to Vietnam, where I will reside for the next 4 months. Vietnam, the country wherein half of my cultural identity was born, and yet I have only tales extracted from my parents’ memories and classroom lecture notes to conjure up an image of where my heritage derives from. And now I not only get to go to Vietnam, I’m going to live there. Yikes!
I must admit that less than 24 hours before my journey commences, I am replete with trepidation and utmost fear. While a part of me is extremely excited to go back to my parents’ home country and discover my ‘roots’ (I hate that term but it essentially sums it up), the same enthusiasm channels into fear. How am I going to survive in a completely different world? While I am fluent in Vietnamese, my vocabulary is that of a 3rd grader’s (at best), and my passive nature makes me cringe at the thought of having to constantly haggle and bargain my way through every purchase. Or should I worry about constantly beating off pickpocketers and being perpetually paranoid that someone will steal my passport and I will consequently be detained in Vietnam forever? And what about the waterborne-bug infested water that will inflict unimaginably horrible viruses to my stomach? And the SQUATTING, non-flushable toilets?!?!
I kid. Those are really the least of my worries. In all honesty what I fear most is Vietnam not living up to what I have always imagined it to be. Throughout my life I have battled and tried to compromise the hybrid identity of being Vietnamese-American, and I know there is a whole generation of us out there, children of Vietnamese war refugees, who can attest to the fact that these two cultures are not easily reconcilable. I was born and have lived in the US the entire duration of my life, and now is my opportunity to go back to the other half of my foundation and really learn about my heritage. Here is a country that has manifested in me so much of its cultural history and heritage, and yet conversely I know so little about it. Yes, I speak the language fluently and I voraciously ingest pho and goi cuon, but what do I really know? But it is what it is; I am a 1.5 generation Vietnamese-American, juggling Vietnamese traditions that my parents have instilled within me since I was young, while simultaneously trying to ‘fit in’ in American society.
I have always dreamed of going to Vietnam, despite my parents having renounced their home country years ago and despite the perpetual negative buzz of Vietnam being a war-torn (true), communist (mm half true), and third world (developing!) country. In the course of the past few weeks I have been training myself to lessen my expectations as to correspondingly lessen my chances of disappointment. In a way, I hope everyone was just wrong and cynical about anything critical they may have thought of Vietnam, because I, admittedly in naiive fashion, want so badly to see only the beauty of the other country that fulfills the other half of my foundation, to understand and to see starkly what it means to be Vietnamese.
While disappointments are of course inevitable and while I probably will never understand in its entirety what it means to be Vietnamese, I’m still excited. Nervous, but excited. The countdown begins…
I must admit that less than 24 hours before my journey commences, I am replete with trepidation and utmost fear. While a part of me is extremely excited to go back to my parents’ home country and discover my ‘roots’ (I hate that term but it essentially sums it up), the same enthusiasm channels into fear. How am I going to survive in a completely different world? While I am fluent in Vietnamese, my vocabulary is that of a 3rd grader’s (at best), and my passive nature makes me cringe at the thought of having to constantly haggle and bargain my way through every purchase. Or should I worry about constantly beating off pickpocketers and being perpetually paranoid that someone will steal my passport and I will consequently be detained in Vietnam forever? And what about the waterborne-bug infested water that will inflict unimaginably horrible viruses to my stomach? And the SQUATTING, non-flushable toilets?!?!
I kid. Those are really the least of my worries. In all honesty what I fear most is Vietnam not living up to what I have always imagined it to be. Throughout my life I have battled and tried to compromise the hybrid identity of being Vietnamese-American, and I know there is a whole generation of us out there, children of Vietnamese war refugees, who can attest to the fact that these two cultures are not easily reconcilable. I was born and have lived in the US the entire duration of my life, and now is my opportunity to go back to the other half of my foundation and really learn about my heritage. Here is a country that has manifested in me so much of its cultural history and heritage, and yet conversely I know so little about it. Yes, I speak the language fluently and I voraciously ingest pho and goi cuon, but what do I really know? But it is what it is; I am a 1.5 generation Vietnamese-American, juggling Vietnamese traditions that my parents have instilled within me since I was young, while simultaneously trying to ‘fit in’ in American society.
I have always dreamed of going to Vietnam, despite my parents having renounced their home country years ago and despite the perpetual negative buzz of Vietnam being a war-torn (true), communist (mm half true), and third world (developing!) country. In the course of the past few weeks I have been training myself to lessen my expectations as to correspondingly lessen my chances of disappointment. In a way, I hope everyone was just wrong and cynical about anything critical they may have thought of Vietnam, because I, admittedly in naiive fashion, want so badly to see only the beauty of the other country that fulfills the other half of my foundation, to understand and to see starkly what it means to be Vietnamese.
While disappointments are of course inevitable and while I probably will never understand in its entirety what it means to be Vietnamese, I’m still excited. Nervous, but excited. The countdown begins…
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