SPRING 2010 Synergy 9
and eat bánh xèo at his house--a giant bright yellow pancake filled with seafood that is a Vietnamese specialty. Though these treats were tasty, a tinge of guilt always colored my consumption, for I knew that we were taking away resources from those who had few. Yet, we were contributing time and money to their village, and for their pride they needed to reciprocate in some manner. The children will also remain prominent in my memory--their enthusiasm and uplifted spirits will stay in my heart and mind. I learned that sometimes the most important moments are the ordinary ones. Everyday in between our early mornings of manual labor (we rose before the roosters at 530) and our afternoons of teaching we had a break. After an exhausting morning of carting heavy bags of cement under the hot sun all we wanted to do was take a nap or dazedly caffeinate at the local café. Yet, the local children began to establish a tradition. They knew that we frequented the local café, and they would spend this time with us. Interacting with them was often challenging given that most of us lacked sufficient language skills. Yet, we were able to communicate with only a few words. In these moments I felt like I truly connected with the children. My notebooks are filled with drawings they did for us-drawing I will always treasure. Before we left, one child gave each of us a small canister filled with paper stars and glitter with a label saying “good lucky” on the outside of the canister. One activity that greatly amused these children was picking colorful and fragrant local flowers and placing them in all of our hair. Almost anyone looks elegant with one flower in his or her hair, but when you have upwards of 15 flowers (which for sure happened to me once ... I counted!) the effect tends to be more ridiculous than elegant. At the end of the day, the children
would follow us on their bikes as we began our ride home. I would ride home with piles of flowers in my bicycle basket and flowers streaming out of my hair into the wind. Back at our hotel I would gather up these precious tokens and press them between the pages of my journal so as not to forget these wonderful children. When I reflect upon my experience in Ho Chi Minh City and in Mo Cày, a string of questions always runs in a loop in my head. Was the cost of our participation worth the change that we enacted? Would the money have been better spent as a lump sum sent to the community? Is the impact we made on the people worth the pain of our separation? Do we teach these children to aim for something they can never achieve? Did we show our roommates a way of life that few of them will ever attain? These are questions that I can only begin to try and answer. For one, our presence there is what motivated Duke to donate the money. Furthermore, we were on site to ensure that the money was spent in the manner that was proposed. I also like to think that beyond the concrete changes such as the road we built we also left a somewhat more personal imprint --- that as the children ride down the road they will think of our time together in a positive light. Also, western-oriented as it may be, I like to think that the program makes an impact on its Duke participants. This experience has deeply affected me, and I hope to use it in the future. In fact, I’m contemplating applying for funding after graduation to return to the same shelter and make more of a positive change. If the program can inspire Duke students to promote change in their futures, then perhaps it’s worth it. To make a pop culture reference, the web of our actions’ impact is hard to analyze, you just never know which strand will save the cheerleader and save world. •