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Vol. 3 & 4 9 / 2001 |
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TEARS for HUE
Nguyen Thuy
Duong
I was blessed with the opportunity to go to Vietnam, My
motherland, and the place from which I originated to help out with flood
victims. Whenever I tell anyone about the trip, I always say, "I went home
to Viet Nam," even though it was my very first time on the physical land
itself; I still felt it was a homecoming. Twenty years ago my parents fled
their homeland because of the communist oppression, and unexpectedly after two
decades, I, a foreign daughter of the land had the opportunity to "shamefully"
call it my home. I used The word "shamefully" probably in the wrong
senses, but I mean say: "I wanted so badly to be a part of Vietnam and
have it truly be my home although I know the selfish part of me is very much
America." Nevertheless, Vietnam's beautiful scenery and heartbreaking
images of flood victims will forever be a part of who I am and where come from.
Our mission for the relief was to bring victims money because
they were facing desperate time after the flood. To reach the villages that
were most devastated, we had to go by small-motorized canoes up the rivers of
the central region of Vietnam; that was the best part. Aside from the rustic
puttering of the canoe's engine, the entire river was peaceful. Along the
riverbanks, the greenery of nature remained untouched except for the occasional
shacks that doted the scenery and dared
to withstand the vicious floods. Hu+o+ng River is the lifeline of the villages
near by and it was also the only means of transportation and communication.
Each time I went down the river I can't help but gasp at the majestic mountain
range in the background that knows to be backbone of my country. I say my
country with an air of arrogance because I'm so proud of its beauty.
As we pass the handful of families that live their boats, I
noticed they were by far the poorest people I've ever met. Each time I see an
old lady on one of those canoe houses I can't but help to get teary eyes
thinking about how hard their lives must be. People of the same flesh and blood
as myself, the same root and history as me, yet without the stable house much
less a real roofs or walls for protection. After the floods, these were the
people that suffered the most because they did not have a permanent address and
did not get official relief. These families that float along the river are the
equivalents of the homeless in America that can't get a job because the don't
have an address. As we went up the river, we met one such person. During the flood, the man lost a young
child, he was also taking care of a
family and an old grandma on his small canoe. He had come by to ask for a
little money seeing that we were "Vie^.t Kie^`u." He modestly ask for
20 or 30 thousand "ddo^`ng," but we joking told him we will give him
1.4 million "ddo^`ng" which is equivalent to $100 USD. He repeatedly
asked for the modest amount without imagining that we would help him out that
much. When he opened the envelope, which we presented with both hands out of
respect and tradition of Vietnamese way, he trembled with surprise. He was
shocked to see s much money. His hand shook to reveal the excitement he felt as
he thanked us and ask "why so much!" He had never seen that amount of
before in his whole entire life. Never before have I receive such a joy myself
for being able to see someone else so happy.
Upon arriving at the villages, I finally witnessed for myself
the destruction of the flood. The flood victims had nothing, when I say they
had nothing, they really had nothing; most families lost their entire
house. The only thing remaining of the
house is the cement ground surround by debris while the whole structure had
been swept away by the water. Everything people owned, saved, and used was
washed away by the devastating flood.
Being the poorest region of Viet Nam, these people had very little to
start with and this disaster made it even harder. One lady retold her
horrifying story of how she had to cling on to a post with her face barely
sticking out of the water as she watches all her worldly possession flow away.
Victims after victims, they all have tragic stories to tell; some people the
few things they had while other people lost love ones.
We went to each house to deliver our gift of prepared envelopes
containing that same amount money. We tried to help all the families in the
village without discrimination. It was so sad to watch as we called out each
family by their sur-names to discover that two or three families had to share a
single room house. The house are roughly put together from the coverable scrap
that scattered the village. Most of the homes hardly qualified as houses
because they were just really shacks. As we went through the village there were
more shacks than true structures. I can't imagine these houses can even keep
people dry, let alone keep out the cold. I can't understand how they can
survive and continue living under such harsh conditions because it can get very
cold.
I remember we spent Christmas Eve in the village called DDa`
Ha`n. it was freezing. It was so cold, I can almost swear that it was colder
than America. It might have not have been temperature wise, but that was how
cold it felt. Being guests, we got to sleep in the priest's house, which
actually still had walls; but all night, I curled up in a ball and wrapped
myself in a blanket to wait for the morning because it was so cold. In the
middle of the night around two or three o'clock, I got up and saw patches of
light from small campfires dot the darkness. Around the fire people huddled to
keep warm as they're casual conversations drifted in the icy cold night. I
wasn't the only one that couldn't bare the cold. It was much worst for the
villagers because they have never experienced this kind of coldness before,
especially in the tropical climate of Viet Nam. I think I will always remember
that Christmas Eve as one of the coldest night of my life. Once again, it's
amazing to me that these people who hardly got sleep can have enough energy for
the next day's work.
I marvel at how these people can survive. Although I am unable
express my awe in words, I know in my heart how much I respect and acknowledge
their strength. Evens through these people are very poor, they have a beautiful
loving spirit and do everything in their own power to support each other. In the tradition of an old saying, "La'
la`nh ddu`m la' ra'ch". They are epitome of the simple spirit of the
Vietnamese people. I am honored to have met and associated with such wonderful
and caring people. I was even more overwhelmed by my experience and utterly
blessed to have been able to help out own people a small way.