As I write this blog post, I am sitting by the fire of my uncle’s home in Maine after a poor day’s effort to ski. Today was a high of 0 degrees Fahrenheit, mind you. A little bit different from the heat of Ho Chi Minh City.
I know I was absent for the final weeks of my semester in Vietnam. Work picked up in my internship and following that, I had my final paper and presentation. So the amount of time to write on top of my work was very limited.
Let me try to pick up where I left off.
The following Monday work continued as always. My research of tobacco policy expanded where I researched its effects in the hospitality industry. Not as fascinating as illicit tobacco and smuggling, but interesting nonetheless. My work then turned to migration, where I researched migration patterns, nationally and internationally, of countries around the world. It was very interesting learning about different migration patterns around the world and comparing them to what’s happening in Vietnam today. Hundreds of thousands of people are migrating from rural areas to the city, and it will be very important to see what it does to the infrastructure of the cities of Vietnam in the next few years.
On thursday the 7th, Mr. Phong invited me to a ceremony that was located hours outside the city. I was not exactly sure what I was taking part in, but arrived excited nonetheless.
I arrived at his house to be greeted by one of Mr. Phong’s comrades, named Mr. Manh. Me, Mr. Manh, Mr. Phong, my tanslator Main, and three other people took a car far away from Hanoi to a village where we were met by many of Mr. Phong’s other comrades. We entered a cemetery, where I learned that this was not only a celebration but an anniversary of the death of a man named Mr. Cho. We burned incense, said prayers in vietnamese, and gave thanks to the heroes in War. I felt unworthy to be in the presence of these men, but grateful they were so welcoming to me.
The men gave speeches of different subjects, but there was one thing that each of them explained just as Mr. Phong said to me on our initial meeting: that Vietnam is so strong, so peaceful, and so grateful of these men and women that sacrificed themselves in War. They kept making it clear to me that they no longer want war, or hostility, or grudges, but they want peace, love, and friendship with America.
The ceremony was followed by a big meal where we ate, drank, and celebrated both Mr. Cho and all of the lives lost in the war. What I learned from that meal through my translator Mai, is that they lost Mr. Cho during the War, but had not recovered his body until very recently. My heart nearly sank into the floor when I heard this. The agony and pain they must have felt, and obviously still feel, during those years and years of mystery must have been unbearable.
After the big meal ended, the men were seated in another room drinking their post meal tea. They called me over to have me sit with them. One of them pulled out his wallet and began a long speech to my translator. After sitting for about five minutes trying to act like I had any idea what he was saying, my translator turned to me and explained that this man that just spoke was Mr. Cho’s brother, and how he is very glad I was able to attend this ceremony with him. Having a relationship with Vietnam is very important because Vietnam and America need each other. He then opened his walled, and pulled out a photograph. It was a picture of Mr. Cho. He handed me the photo and told me that it is very important that I have it because it is very important to him and the photo has traveled the world and now it needs to go to America, so Americans can learn about the North Vietnamese, and how they are not bad or violent people. He made me promise to him that I will take care of the photo and also tell people about my journeys in Vietnam. I felt so undeserving of this gift, but he was adamant on me keeping it safe and close to me.
Anything that I write will no longer hold a flame to what I just talked about. So I will continue later onto another blog post, because this day is worthy of its own post. What I ask of you is to take a minute, take a brief second of your busy life, and think about the men and women that were our enemy. Think about them, take any anger you have for them, for the war, for the American government, for communism, and for a short moment, just let it go. Don’t feel sad, or guilty, or angry. It will bring you a brief moment of peace that you deserve.