Let's play a game of guess who. My trip has the following people participating: aunty, mom, dad, me, cousin #1, and cousin #2.
Guess who...
1. Puked in the streets right beside a store after she/he ate two bowls of fat noodles
2. Pooped 10 times in one day
3. Got teeth implants
4. Got a bad haircut
5. Freaked out at a Cambodian lunch because a cat brushed his/her leg
6. Forgot their Camara - left it in Canada
7. Pulled down his/her pants when the doctor told him/her that he/she would receive a needle in the ass, this was followed by an awkward moment and the doctor told him/her to pull up his/her pants.
8. Gets attacked by a monkey
Answers:
1. Cousin #1
2. Cousin #2
3. Mom
4. Me
5. Me
6. My family (mom, dad, me) - my camera is being fixed at future shop and my dad created the memory of passing the camera to me back at home - it never happened
7. Cousin #2
8. mom - we were at a monkey park and the lady sitting beside her got her hat stolen and so the two ladies jump up with their backs together while the monkey runs away.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
The cry-fest continues
About a week ago we took a trip to visit my grandma's sister. We arrive on a farm and my dad turns to his sister: "Hey, you shouldn't go first, you always cry, I'll go first."
And so my dad is the first one to walk to the house, and seeing a stranger but feeling that it is family, my grandma's sister starts crying. My dad, seeing tears in her eyes, also starts crying. My aunt, eventually starts crying. It seems like the plan did not work.
The afternoon was filled with reminiscing and tears of joy. She is frail and has vision problems, my dad lends her his glasses to see if she can see better - she can, so we plan to find her some glasses (but with heavier prescription).
It's a short story but just think of warmth in your heart - that is what I felt all day long.
And so my dad is the first one to walk to the house, and seeing a stranger but feeling that it is family, my grandma's sister starts crying. My dad, seeing tears in her eyes, also starts crying. My aunt, eventually starts crying. It seems like the plan did not work.
The afternoon was filled with reminiscing and tears of joy. She is frail and has vision problems, my dad lends her his glasses to see if she can see better - she can, so we plan to find her some glasses (but with heavier prescription).
It's a short story but just think of warmth in your heart - that is what I felt all day long.
Oh wow Cambodia
After a week in Vietnam, my family and I went to Cambodia. How do I describe it - beautiful palm trees in the middle of farm land where water buffalos are grazing in rice-like paddies. Huts built on stilts to avoid floods during the rainy seasons. And lilies bursting with bright blue skies laying as their background.
Beautiful country with utter devastation - we visited a water town - I mean they drink, urinate, cook, and travel using the same river supply of murky yellow water. The only thing I could think of throughout the whole thing was, they don't know. What I mean is - I saw a kid drink from the river, actually take a bowl, scoop some gritty dirty water and drink it. And you turn to the shores and there are kids, with their ingenuity, selling tourists plates with the tourist's pics on them (they snap a picture of you and then develop them and paste them on plates right away).
So I began to think. How could I help? If I give the beggers money it will only encourage them to beg. If I buy the kid's products it will encourage them to depend on tourists, what happens when the tourists stop coming? That's when I realized what I once realized before - education. Education not on ABC's, but the importance of clean water. But not just that, of how to build things to clean water. And so that was when I started looking around the village and realized that there were NGOs there doing just that. It wasn't a relief but a direction, a realization that hey, when I get back to Canada, I am either going to donate my time or money to these NGOs to help this country devastated by war.
Beautiful country with utter devastation - we visited a water town - I mean they drink, urinate, cook, and travel using the same river supply of murky yellow water. The only thing I could think of throughout the whole thing was, they don't know. What I mean is - I saw a kid drink from the river, actually take a bowl, scoop some gritty dirty water and drink it. And you turn to the shores and there are kids, with their ingenuity, selling tourists plates with the tourist's pics on them (they snap a picture of you and then develop them and paste them on plates right away).
So I began to think. How could I help? If I give the beggers money it will only encourage them to beg. If I buy the kid's products it will encourage them to depend on tourists, what happens when the tourists stop coming? That's when I realized what I once realized before - education. Education not on ABC's, but the importance of clean water. But not just that, of how to build things to clean water. And so that was when I started looking around the village and realized that there were NGOs there doing just that. It wasn't a relief but a direction, a realization that hey, when I get back to Canada, I am either going to donate my time or money to these NGOs to help this country devastated by war.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
I am too tall and too white to be in Vietnam
I thought I could fit in - but it it is proving to be difficult.
First story comes when we are entering Cu Chi min tunnels. The price for entering is lower for locals and the driver helped my family buy local tickets thinking that we could pass as locals. We begin walking up to the entrance with the tickets - my dad hands them over, speaking in Viet. Now let me paint the picture - my aunt, dad, and mom, CAN speak Viet. My two cousins LOOK Viet, in fact, one is so tan he looks like he grew up there all his life, and the other is wearing a typical farmer's cone hat. And then there is me - pasty white and sweating.
I know enough Viet to get by - I can listen and understand but can rarely respond. So the guard looks around at everyone and says "it looks like you are not all locals."
Dad, in viet: "what are you talking about, of course we are."
My tan cousin - who knows absolutely no Viet is freaking out and thinking - don't ask me any questions.
Guard: " what about this one." points to me, "where are you from?"
Me: oh my god, my heart is beating like a rabbit's, and you can feel everyone around me holding their breath saying oh no. Thank god I understand what he is asking and I know I can respond: "I'm from here" - I say, glaring at him. Everyone sighs a breath of relief.
Eventually - we get let in, and our family tells us only to speak in Cantonese because there are many Chinese -Vietnamese in Vietnam. So, conversation among the younger generation, i.e. me, is limited throughout the tour. AND since he thinks we are 'locals' - we get the whole thing in Vietnamese.
In the end, he let us in -
First story comes when we are entering Cu Chi min tunnels. The price for entering is lower for locals and the driver helped my family buy local tickets thinking that we could pass as locals. We begin walking up to the entrance with the tickets - my dad hands them over, speaking in Viet. Now let me paint the picture - my aunt, dad, and mom, CAN speak Viet. My two cousins LOOK Viet, in fact, one is so tan he looks like he grew up there all his life, and the other is wearing a typical farmer's cone hat. And then there is me - pasty white and sweating.
I know enough Viet to get by - I can listen and understand but can rarely respond. So the guard looks around at everyone and says "it looks like you are not all locals."
Dad, in viet: "what are you talking about, of course we are."
My tan cousin - who knows absolutely no Viet is freaking out and thinking - don't ask me any questions.
Guard: " what about this one." points to me, "where are you from?"
Me: oh my god, my heart is beating like a rabbit's, and you can feel everyone around me holding their breath saying oh no. Thank god I understand what he is asking and I know I can respond: "I'm from here" - I say, glaring at him. Everyone sighs a breath of relief.
Eventually - we get let in, and our family tells us only to speak in Cantonese because there are many Chinese -Vietnamese in Vietnam. So, conversation among the younger generation, i.e. me, is limited throughout the tour. AND since he thinks we are 'locals' - we get the whole thing in Vietnamese.
In the end, he let us in -
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