Perhaps
the ending of my last entry raised expectations too high about the eventfulness of
the time I have left here. After living here for 2 months I should’ve known
that because of the language barrier and the way things work here, being
spontaneous doesn’t always give good results. In other words, I didn’t get to
visit all the places I had hoped.
Neither
could I use pictures of the HIV-positive for publicity purposes. Because the
discrimination against them is so bad here, they literally shrink from fear if
they see a photo camera. This is because most of them live in secrecy.
For
example, one family (a single mother and her daughter) I visited that lived in
one of Saigon’s biggest industrial region had kept their HIV-status a secret
for many years already. Even though they share a 4x4m room with 2 other women
to make the rent as small as possible (about 7.7 EUR per month) and take a
bunch of pills 6:20 AM and PM sharp every day, they have managed to cover up
their secret. Because if they failed to do that, they would be persecuted. The
mom works in a textile factory 20 days a month because her health won’t allow
her more. She admitted she’s having problems covering the rent money.
The mother and her daughter lived in a rent room in Di An, Binh Duong - one of the biggest industrial regions in the country. |
The interns sitting and talking with the family. I had to blur their faces to keep their privacy. |
After
learning about her work conditions and it’s implications, I started to have flashbacks of all my clothes that had a “made in Vietnam” label on them. Yet I felt good that
I had bought them, since I was contributing to the demand for these products
and that’s why women like her have a job. However, the image of her working in a
megafactory, exceeding the health limits imposed on her by HIV and living
in one of the grimiest and industralised regions in Vietnam will remain in my
heart.
Besides learning about just the HIV-positive, we
have visited several orphanages that host kids (and adults) from various
backrounds and with various conditions. One of them, called Chua Dieu Giac
(which is at the same time a pagoda), was a very memorable experience. The
children there were mainly from poor families, so the orphanage’s mission was
to feed them and give them education. The staff consisted of monks.
Boys' dormitory |
This kind of a lunch comes to life every month here. Not bad. |
I have to lead the train ?? |
The
Ky Quang orphanage (pagoda) was another world alltogether. All the children I
saw there were disabled in some way (often both mentally and physically) and
seeing such a big congregation of handicapped people was not uplifting. There
were, however, some positive moments when a kid would come, take your hand, and
lead you into his/her own world without any criticism, discrimination or
prejudices that usually pave the way of everyday social interactions. The staff
there consist of monks and other volunteers. As opposed to the friendly image that
are usually attributed to monks, I’ve read some gruesome perspectives about how
they enjoy much better conditions than the orphans do and how badly they treat them.
Some of the staff have been documented to treat the blind orphans violently. I
can’t imagine where such behavior comes from, but another thing I can’t imagine
is working there every day. It could be an alienating experience, as you have
to spend so much time with people that are physically there, but mentally give
you little in return. The physical needs in particular caught my attention, as
in many rooms there were stockpiles of diapers. One could only imagine what the
volunteers there must go through. I met an British girl who had worked there
for 2 months. Her university major was English literature. She said that she
wanted to exceed her boundraries and test herself. Very admirable indeed.
A 2-year old baby with hydrocephalus. She is waiting for a donation to get surgery. |
A room of blind boys |
The work of volunteers |
Alongside the orphans in Saigon there is a population of “street children”. I’ve come to
understood this term signifies children who grow up in extreme poverty and who
can be seen on streets selling lottery tickets and doing other menial jobs from
a very early age. I had some contact with them a few days ago when I gave my first English class. The lesson began in Vietnamese style - many people were very late or didn't show up at all. But the ones who showed up were like pearls in the sense that they were really enthusiastic and hard-working. They were so into learning, in fact, that they wouldn't let me finish on time and as a result I gave a 2,5-hour lesson. What is the reason behind their motivation ? Firstly they were street children who wanted to make something of themselves and therefore appreciated the opportunity of practicing English. Secondly, they valued the lesson because they didn't have to pay for it. In Vietnam, education is a business. I've had a lot of hostile stares here when I've told people that I've never payed a penny for education (excluding the money spent on books and small donations). The fact that education costs in a 3rd world country is really bad. The impact of this policy was evident in the story of one of the pupils I met in my class: even though he was 19 years old, he was still in 10th grade because he had to skip school for years to work and earn money for tuition. Despite the time he lost to educate himself, he still speaks English better than most of the people I've met here. The fruits of the hard labor are evident.
After the lovely experience of teaching English, I returned to the chaos that reigns Saigon. I almost got robbed of my wallet, phone and iPod that day and it felt like an ordinary event. (Some guy snuck behind my back and started playing with the zipper of my backpack. Luckily I realized early that something was going on, and as I reached my hand towards that pocket, our hands met for a brief second, and the next instance he was gone.) This would not be the first time though. Once a motorbike passed by me and one of the people on it tried to grab my whole backpack. But at that moment I was just moving it to the front to take out my phone, so the only thing that the thief could grab was my shirt. Moving on in the series of robbery, my computer charger got stolen (this time for real) because I left it alone onto the table for too long. This little mistake cost me 96 EUR. Apple is very expensive here. In general, one should always hold on to his/her belongings with all four limbs at all times in Saigon.
Some more positive highlights:
Another workshop. Odin, an intern from Hong Kong, is leading a discussion after the debate to question some of the core beliefs about sex workers in the Vietnamese society. |
I'll be going on the plane towards Helsinki tomorrow, so I guess this is my last post from here ! The summer passed by in the blink of an eye. I'll write to you again soon !
Wow this was a really great post! Can't believe I am just now reading it. Your commentary is so well written and thoughtfully put. It also made me really nostalgic for our time there. Hope you're doing well!
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