Interviewed and written by Thai Hai Yen, the RMIT Alumni Association Coordinator
In this issue, we would like to share with you the “career search journey” of RMIT Vietnam Career Counsellor and RMIT Vietnam alumna, Ms. Phoenix Ho. Phoenix is amongst RMIT Vietnam’s Acclaimed Alumni, having won the TNT Award for Outstanding Graduate in 2004. Phoenix is an experienced counsellor who received her Masters of Educational Leadership and Management in 2004 and Masters of Arts in Career Development Counselling from Santa Clara University in the US.
Her career pathway
Having taken many detours in finding her current career path, Phoenix believes that long “self-searching” journeys help make her a good career counsellor.
The first detour that she took was selecting a major, mathematics, which she was good at rather than passionate about. She chose a college rather than a university because “it’s easier, more fun and because [her] friends were there”. She got A’s in almost everything she studied but was confused about what her real strengths were. The confusion went on until one day when she spoke to a girl studying the same major; she saw the girl’s eyes shine with passion when talking about math… and asked herself “What am I doing?” She knew she needed a change.
Her “strength and passion” journey went on and at times it seemed never-ending. She switched to business; again not the right choice. It took Phoenix a very long time to discover what it was she really liked doing; and what it was that also matched her values. She returned to Vietnam and worked in a couple of organizations. She then decided to switch to the non-profit sector. However overseas Vietnamese, like her, were required to have a Masters degree. As she didn’t have a Masters Degree, Phoenix enrolled in the Masters of Education program at RMIT International University Vietnam. This was one of the biggest turning points in her life, and she believes this degree helped her a lot in strategic thinking.
According to Phoenix, many people can gain from getting broader life experience first before they move onto a Masters degree “so that they have enough experience and background to use and reflect upon” during these further studies.
Her career path includes flights back and forth from Vietnam to America. It includes job trials and several position changes until one day, when teaching a small group of students, she realized the light of hope at the end of the tunnel. Her heart told her she was born to become a counsellor. From the moment she stepped into her “Masters of Counselling class”, she knew her dream had come true - she had found the “real person” in her. It’s no surprise that the 2 years she has worked for RMIT Vietnam as a Career Counsellor is the time she has learned most about herself. Through student, parent, alumni and staff consultations, she found the beauty in her job was to enlighten people’s hearts and help them realise their real strengths, so that they could make up their mind on their own career decisions.
Most important factors affecting one’s career path
In her opinion, for different people there are different important factors that affect their career paths. There are people from a very young age who know exactly what they are good at. There are people who are good at many things, but don’t know what they are very good at. She used the example of her own sister, who is really talented in arts. Her sister realised her talent as a child and focused on it; everything was so easy for her. Phoenix thinks she belongs to the second group of people; those who find it really hard to recognise their real strengths. Culture also plays an instrumental role in helping find your strengths. If for example you live in a culture where only strengths in math and science are acknowledged, it’s hard if you excel at sports or have great interpersonal skills, because these strong points may not be considered strengths. It’s similar when students talk more than others because they’re extrovert; others tend to say they’re talkative. Therefore, it’s not always easy for people to learn about their strengths.
“My suggestion is to try every single thing you like. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. If you make a mistake, consider it something that you learn from. Whenever you hear a voice in your head telling you that you cannot do something, or it’s not your strength, then question, why. Did it come from your parents, did it come from society, culture or someone else you met in life that made you think you were not good at something. Always question, why we think the way we think. In short, I think the more you try, the more courageous you are; the better it is. You will never know what your strengths are until you discover them from trial.” According to Phoenix, “your strengths will come out naturally and most clearly when you suffer from obstacles and difficulties in life, because that’s when you realize your strong nature”. In this self-searching journey, good friends are very important. “You need friends who you can trust, who support and motivate you but dare to criticize you to make you better.”
Phoenix strongly believes in two things: First, before you know your career, you have to know who you are in terms of what you are good at, what your personality is, and what the values are in your life. Treat what you value most as the core and be comfortable with it. You need to love yourself before you can find out about your career dream. Otherwise, you will be continuously searching. At different stages in life, we have different priorities for our values and interests.
Second is to be open to happenstances in life, which are unpredictable happenings in your life. When they happen, instead of feeling sad, angry or afraid; what you should do is to embrace them and turn them into opportunities. For example, if you lose a job that you really like, instead of locking yourself in your room and crying, blaming yourself; I suggest you take a chance to travel, meet new people, talk with a career counsellor and let everybody know you are available for a new job.
For Phoenix, finding a career is a lifelong learning process.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Sharing from Vietnam - The Art of Lending
Living in Vietnam is full of joy and challenges. One of the biggest difficulties that I just recently learned how to effectively cope with is the art of lending.
After three months living in Vietnam, I learned that people from all paths of life could easily come to borrow money from me. They could range from a distant relative, a 'xe om' rider to the massage technician, students and their families, or a random neighbor. I was shocked and overwhelmed by their requests and did not know how to deal with it appropriately.
After many trial and errors, I came up with the system that worked so well for me. I set aside a monthly 'micro-loan fund,' which I use for scholarships for my economically disadvantaged students or others whom I happen to know in hardship for school tuition. The unused portion of the fund is used for 'micro-loan' purpose. I do not discriminate who comes to borrow money, I would lend it to her/him half the amount of what they originally asked for, tell them not to worry about returning it until they are ready to, and never talk about it afterward.
Reasons are: People must be so desperate to borrow money from me, so that factor itself is a good reason to lend them. I never give them a full amount because first I cannot afford it, second I want them to come up with the rest of the amount from somewhere else. I know they would never have the ability to return the fund to me, so I treat it as a give-away rather than a loan. By not talking about it afterward I save their face, and if they never return the fund to me, they would never dare to ask to borrow again.
Because it is a monthly fund, I can deny lending requests if my fund for the month was exhausted and asked them to wait for the following month. That way I can keep my budget in control and not feel guilty by saying no. If they are reasonable, they could wait, and that is another proof that I am lending the right person.
All of this sounds illogical and irrational from Western perspective, but it makes perfect sense for me. I am making decent salary and living a comfortable life. I am not saving a lot, or not saving at all, but being able to help one and two person in desperate needs here and there, I believe, is saving my son lots of love for his future. I believe in 'what goes around comes around' and hope that the people who borrowed would some day give back to another person in need. And that is all that counts for me.
I have been implementing this new system for two months and felt so peaceful. I feel like I could balance between my emotional side and logical side. Now people can come to borrow money and I can either lend or postpone the act without hurting them or our relationship. For those who borrowed and did not return, they knew their chance was used and would never ask again.
Wish you all a peaceful time. Halloween is around the corner, and I do not know where to get Ian his costume. Being a mom is so challenging sometimes!
Saigon, Vietnam.
October 6th, 2010
P.S. This piece of writing is not intended to encourage its reader to come forward and borrow money from me :)
After three months living in Vietnam, I learned that people from all paths of life could easily come to borrow money from me. They could range from a distant relative, a 'xe om' rider to the massage technician, students and their families, or a random neighbor. I was shocked and overwhelmed by their requests and did not know how to deal with it appropriately.
After many trial and errors, I came up with the system that worked so well for me. I set aside a monthly 'micro-loan fund,' which I use for scholarships for my economically disadvantaged students or others whom I happen to know in hardship for school tuition. The unused portion of the fund is used for 'micro-loan' purpose. I do not discriminate who comes to borrow money, I would lend it to her/him half the amount of what they originally asked for, tell them not to worry about returning it until they are ready to, and never talk about it afterward.
Reasons are: People must be so desperate to borrow money from me, so that factor itself is a good reason to lend them. I never give them a full amount because first I cannot afford it, second I want them to come up with the rest of the amount from somewhere else. I know they would never have the ability to return the fund to me, so I treat it as a give-away rather than a loan. By not talking about it afterward I save their face, and if they never return the fund to me, they would never dare to ask to borrow again.
Because it is a monthly fund, I can deny lending requests if my fund for the month was exhausted and asked them to wait for the following month. That way I can keep my budget in control and not feel guilty by saying no. If they are reasonable, they could wait, and that is another proof that I am lending the right person.
All of this sounds illogical and irrational from Western perspective, but it makes perfect sense for me. I am making decent salary and living a comfortable life. I am not saving a lot, or not saving at all, but being able to help one and two person in desperate needs here and there, I believe, is saving my son lots of love for his future. I believe in 'what goes around comes around' and hope that the people who borrowed would some day give back to another person in need. And that is all that counts for me.
I have been implementing this new system for two months and felt so peaceful. I feel like I could balance between my emotional side and logical side. Now people can come to borrow money and I can either lend or postpone the act without hurting them or our relationship. For those who borrowed and did not return, they knew their chance was used and would never ask again.
Wish you all a peaceful time. Halloween is around the corner, and I do not know where to get Ian his costume. Being a mom is so challenging sometimes!
Saigon, Vietnam.
October 6th, 2010
P.S. This piece of writing is not intended to encourage its reader to come forward and borrow money from me :)
Sharing from Vietnam - Fortune Teller #3
My close friends and colleagues have learned of my recent wish, which is to meet 100 fortune tellers in Vietnam. Goal? Not sure yet and I'll let it evolve itself. Turning 34, I think it is fun to do things just for the sake of doing and worry less about the end results.
So I met the fortune teller number 3 on a Sunday morning, with a close colleague, before I headed out to spend time with the lovely kids in an HIV Orphanage in Thu Duc District. On the phone Ms. H sounded rude, short-tempered, and arrogant; therefore, I was surprised by her kind words, open-mindedness, and understanding manner when we met in person. I was charmed after five minutes of listening to her, and I thought to myself 'This is someone I'd like to know as a friend.'
During the conversation, my career counseling instinct came up several times, and I must try really hard to control the urge of asking her to quit her current job and take a Masters degree in Counseling to join our field of work. This lady is a natural counselor and psychologist! She does not try to be mysterious; instead, she often follows her statement with logical explanation. She uses precise language to articulate her ideas and would repeat herself until the client shows their comprehension. She has kindness in her heart, and she really enjoys her work. She is also among the few fortune tellers who only see clients on appointment bases and set boundary to enjoy her personal life. Again, I would like to become this woman's friend.
I almost laughed aloud when she frankly stated, 'You cannot reveal your forehead like that. Do something with your hair to cover it. And you must fix your nose. Otherwise, men look at you and they are intimidated. You must fool them by covering your intelligence and ugly feature.' My God! Mom has always been proud of my forehead although she teases me all the time. And I never worried about my flat nose, which feature I think makes me look authentically Vietnamese. Sadly I secretly agreed about the 'intimidation part' but had no desire to cover my intelligence for any reason. She kindly explained that such a flat nose is not good for a woman's love life, and fixing it would bring good luck to my romantic relationship.
Beside that 'odd' advice, the rest of the conversation was meaningful, I think. She talked about my personality type and how it impacted my lifestyle and life quality. She mentioned career failures and successes and analyzed the few men in my life. She talked about the sadness and joy of a woman, the role of a mother, and how unfair life could be. Most importantly, I felt good because she made me feel she liked me as a person, and she gave me her full attention the whole time. In addition to that, this lady did not act like she knew everything (except the flat nose part). She gave her advice carefully, showed respect for her clients, and genuinely cared about them. I came to that conclusion because I could hear her conversation with the guys before me and the girlfriend after me. I like this woman a lot.
In conclusion, the third fortune teller has been the best experience so far. Since I am open about my wish of seeing 100 fortune tellers, acquaintances and friends have given me lots of suggestions. For budgeting and timing purpose, this project may take a long time to complete. And without a research question, I really don't know where I am heading. But hey, life is more fun that way, so why not take the risk, right?
I wish you all a good time. It's autumn time in the US, and I miss California, Dad and Mom, brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces, and crazy friends terribly. I am starting a new semester in two weeks, with lots of changes and joyful projects. Oh, one more thing, my students converted me to a facebooker, so you can connect to me now using facebook :)
With lots of love,
Saigon, Vietnam
October 2010
So I met the fortune teller number 3 on a Sunday morning, with a close colleague, before I headed out to spend time with the lovely kids in an HIV Orphanage in Thu Duc District. On the phone Ms. H sounded rude, short-tempered, and arrogant; therefore, I was surprised by her kind words, open-mindedness, and understanding manner when we met in person. I was charmed after five minutes of listening to her, and I thought to myself 'This is someone I'd like to know as a friend.'
During the conversation, my career counseling instinct came up several times, and I must try really hard to control the urge of asking her to quit her current job and take a Masters degree in Counseling to join our field of work. This lady is a natural counselor and psychologist! She does not try to be mysterious; instead, she often follows her statement with logical explanation. She uses precise language to articulate her ideas and would repeat herself until the client shows their comprehension. She has kindness in her heart, and she really enjoys her work. She is also among the few fortune tellers who only see clients on appointment bases and set boundary to enjoy her personal life. Again, I would like to become this woman's friend.
I almost laughed aloud when she frankly stated, 'You cannot reveal your forehead like that. Do something with your hair to cover it. And you must fix your nose. Otherwise, men look at you and they are intimidated. You must fool them by covering your intelligence and ugly feature.' My God! Mom has always been proud of my forehead although she teases me all the time. And I never worried about my flat nose, which feature I think makes me look authentically Vietnamese. Sadly I secretly agreed about the 'intimidation part' but had no desire to cover my intelligence for any reason. She kindly explained that such a flat nose is not good for a woman's love life, and fixing it would bring good luck to my romantic relationship.
Beside that 'odd' advice, the rest of the conversation was meaningful, I think. She talked about my personality type and how it impacted my lifestyle and life quality. She mentioned career failures and successes and analyzed the few men in my life. She talked about the sadness and joy of a woman, the role of a mother, and how unfair life could be. Most importantly, I felt good because she made me feel she liked me as a person, and she gave me her full attention the whole time. In addition to that, this lady did not act like she knew everything (except the flat nose part). She gave her advice carefully, showed respect for her clients, and genuinely cared about them. I came to that conclusion because I could hear her conversation with the guys before me and the girlfriend after me. I like this woman a lot.
In conclusion, the third fortune teller has been the best experience so far. Since I am open about my wish of seeing 100 fortune tellers, acquaintances and friends have given me lots of suggestions. For budgeting and timing purpose, this project may take a long time to complete. And without a research question, I really don't know where I am heading. But hey, life is more fun that way, so why not take the risk, right?
I wish you all a good time. It's autumn time in the US, and I miss California, Dad and Mom, brothers and sisters, nephews and nieces, and crazy friends terribly. I am starting a new semester in two weeks, with lots of changes and joyful projects. Oh, one more thing, my students converted me to a facebooker, so you can connect to me now using facebook :)
With lots of love,
Saigon, Vietnam
October 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Designing My Own Destiny
I would like to dedicate this piece of writing to the RMIT English Club students. I am honoured to be one of the two guest speakers in their Storytelling Contest, which allowed me to share this personal experience of mine with others. Thank you.
When I turned 20 years old, I decided to have my astrology chart interpreted by a Vietnamese astrologer. You know the thing about providing him your birth hour and date and he would tell you everything about your life. In Vietnamese it is called ‘Lá Số Tử Vi.’ So I received this small notebook which described in details all aspects of my life, from career, family, to wealth, love, and marriage. In short, I was born under unlucky stars! I read it, and was unconsciously haunted by it for the following thirteen years, especially by the statement that I was predestined to have a sorrowful love life.
Of course being a Vietnamese American, I pretended that I did not care about the astrology. Yeah right – like I could really do it! I even hunted for scientific answers and research about the Sciences of Eastern Astrology, how accurate it is, and how to understand it better. My American side told me not to believe in it, that it was all crap, and that I was in charge of my life. Yet my Vietnamese identity convinced me that there must be some truth in it. After all, Eastern Astrology had been around for thousand years, right? No matter how hard I tried, the astrologer’s interpretation that I would have a sorrowful love life negatively impacted all my relationship decision making, from getting in love, being committed, to getting out of love. In the end, when my marriage shattered after six years of effort, I decided to confront myself, ‘Why did I let myself end up in this situation?’ It was so much easier to blame my ex-husband, but I believed that I was at least 50% responsible for my marriage's failure.
After sleepless nights of thinking, reflecting, and also crying, one day it suddenly daunted to me that the hidden belief that I was predestined to be unhappy in love was the main reason for my unhappy marriage. Despite the astrologer’s statement that I was born under unlucky stars, never once in my life did I doubt about my ability, intelligence, and talents. Despite the long, laborious 12-year searching journey, I never once thought about giving up my career dream. That was the key to my current happy career. I love my job! However, when it came to love relationship, not only did I have no clue about it, I also believed I was predestined to be unhappy. The result was inevitable – I got myself into unhealthy relationships that led to unhappy ending.
In short, from now on I am determined to be happy in love. I completely stopped believing in my astrology chart. Well, I went to a fortune teller just for fun because that was the only way to meet my girl friends. You know, just a short message ‘Hey, đi coi bói không?’ and all of them would respond to me yes! And I do occasionally read the daily horoscope messages in my mailbox because I am curious of what they might say. However, I no longer let ‘the destiny’ impacts my life. Regarding being happy in love, I don’t know how I will do it, you know, dating or loving properly. I learn as I go. I just know one thing surely. I will be happy in love. That’s all. Just like Adam Khoo had name one of his bestselling books, ‘Master Your Mind, Design Your Destiny,’ from now on I start designing my own destiny.
Saigon,
August 25th, 2010
When I turned 20 years old, I decided to have my astrology chart interpreted by a Vietnamese astrologer. You know the thing about providing him your birth hour and date and he would tell you everything about your life. In Vietnamese it is called ‘Lá Số Tử Vi.’ So I received this small notebook which described in details all aspects of my life, from career, family, to wealth, love, and marriage. In short, I was born under unlucky stars! I read it, and was unconsciously haunted by it for the following thirteen years, especially by the statement that I was predestined to have a sorrowful love life.
Of course being a Vietnamese American, I pretended that I did not care about the astrology. Yeah right – like I could really do it! I even hunted for scientific answers and research about the Sciences of Eastern Astrology, how accurate it is, and how to understand it better. My American side told me not to believe in it, that it was all crap, and that I was in charge of my life. Yet my Vietnamese identity convinced me that there must be some truth in it. After all, Eastern Astrology had been around for thousand years, right? No matter how hard I tried, the astrologer’s interpretation that I would have a sorrowful love life negatively impacted all my relationship decision making, from getting in love, being committed, to getting out of love. In the end, when my marriage shattered after six years of effort, I decided to confront myself, ‘Why did I let myself end up in this situation?’ It was so much easier to blame my ex-husband, but I believed that I was at least 50% responsible for my marriage's failure.
After sleepless nights of thinking, reflecting, and also crying, one day it suddenly daunted to me that the hidden belief that I was predestined to be unhappy in love was the main reason for my unhappy marriage. Despite the astrologer’s statement that I was born under unlucky stars, never once in my life did I doubt about my ability, intelligence, and talents. Despite the long, laborious 12-year searching journey, I never once thought about giving up my career dream. That was the key to my current happy career. I love my job! However, when it came to love relationship, not only did I have no clue about it, I also believed I was predestined to be unhappy. The result was inevitable – I got myself into unhealthy relationships that led to unhappy ending.
In short, from now on I am determined to be happy in love. I completely stopped believing in my astrology chart. Well, I went to a fortune teller just for fun because that was the only way to meet my girl friends. You know, just a short message ‘Hey, đi coi bói không?’ and all of them would respond to me yes! And I do occasionally read the daily horoscope messages in my mailbox because I am curious of what they might say. However, I no longer let ‘the destiny’ impacts my life. Regarding being happy in love, I don’t know how I will do it, you know, dating or loving properly. I learn as I go. I just know one thing surely. I will be happy in love. That’s all. Just like Adam Khoo had name one of his bestselling books, ‘Master Your Mind, Design Your Destiny,’ from now on I start designing my own destiny.
Saigon,
August 25th, 2010
"I Love My Life"
One of my students spoke in my workshop today, 'I love my life.' That statement brought tears to my eyes. It was such a lovely thing to hear from a young person. Today's workshop discussed about luck or happenstance in one's life and how that impacted a person's happiness. For two hours, the students shared in pairs and in big group about their experience regarding luck, and at the end everyone opened their heart and mind to disclosure the most intimate though to everyone. That was the reason why I loved running workshops.
Every time I finished running a workshop, my spirit was kindled, and I felt both refreshed and re-energized. I enjoyed every single minute in my workshop, from the beginning when I usually did a visualization exercise until the end when we shared our thought and emotion in one big circle. I would easily get goosebumps just from listening to my students' sharing, and sometimes I remained high for the rest of the day that people who didn't know me would suspect that I smoked weed or something.
I guessed it was not an usual thing for young people in this community and culture to experience an environment where they felt safe enough to share their emotions and perspectives without the fear of being judged, nor did they often had a chance to sit down and reflect deeply about their lives with others. As a result, they were often caught by surprised when they joined my workshop, and at the end always promised to come back for the next one if their schedules permitted.
My colleagues told me that I was fortunate to have students who came to me voluntarily. Because they were not forced to, they came with an open mind and an open heart. My heart leaped when I saw how relaxed and enlightened they became at the end of the two hours, especially during the mid-term time when they were so stressed out with studying and procrastination. Sometimes I wonder how long the impact would last, and how far could my spirit reach into their souls. Of course there were no way I could evaluate the effectiveness of my work beside receiving feedback here and there from my students. I just simply had to believe that what I was doing was bringing good changes to my students, their families, and consequently the local community where they resided. After all I am an INFP, how else could I function if I did not believe so :)
Lately I learned to focus on my achievements rather than on what I have not accomplished. Life started to become more beautiful because of that thinking habit. Instead of wishing something would or could happen, I smiled and congratulated myself on 'this project' or 'that workshop.' I guessed in a way I was practicing 'focusing on my strengths,' one of the skill that I was trying to motivate my students to integrate into their daily function. And now, at the end of a beautiful day, I am writing to remind myself how much I love my life.
July 29, 2010
Saigon, Vietnam
Every time I finished running a workshop, my spirit was kindled, and I felt both refreshed and re-energized. I enjoyed every single minute in my workshop, from the beginning when I usually did a visualization exercise until the end when we shared our thought and emotion in one big circle. I would easily get goosebumps just from listening to my students' sharing, and sometimes I remained high for the rest of the day that people who didn't know me would suspect that I smoked weed or something.
I guessed it was not an usual thing for young people in this community and culture to experience an environment where they felt safe enough to share their emotions and perspectives without the fear of being judged, nor did they often had a chance to sit down and reflect deeply about their lives with others. As a result, they were often caught by surprised when they joined my workshop, and at the end always promised to come back for the next one if their schedules permitted.
My colleagues told me that I was fortunate to have students who came to me voluntarily. Because they were not forced to, they came with an open mind and an open heart. My heart leaped when I saw how relaxed and enlightened they became at the end of the two hours, especially during the mid-term time when they were so stressed out with studying and procrastination. Sometimes I wonder how long the impact would last, and how far could my spirit reach into their souls. Of course there were no way I could evaluate the effectiveness of my work beside receiving feedback here and there from my students. I just simply had to believe that what I was doing was bringing good changes to my students, their families, and consequently the local community where they resided. After all I am an INFP, how else could I function if I did not believe so :)
Lately I learned to focus on my achievements rather than on what I have not accomplished. Life started to become more beautiful because of that thinking habit. Instead of wishing something would or could happen, I smiled and congratulated myself on 'this project' or 'that workshop.' I guessed in a way I was practicing 'focusing on my strengths,' one of the skill that I was trying to motivate my students to integrate into their daily function. And now, at the end of a beautiful day, I am writing to remind myself how much I love my life.
July 29, 2010
Saigon, Vietnam
The Woman in My Life - Mommy
It is ridiculous that the woman who influences me the most in my life is my mom and I have not written much about her! Actually writing about her is scary because it confirms to me how similar we are, and I do not, I emphasize, I DO NOT like it a bit!
First, mommy is a writer. She writes as easily as she breaths. It is more like a desire than a task she does everyday. And the same for me. If I do not write, I don't think I could overcome all the obstacles in my life. Writing is my therapy, my stress reliever, my friend, my mentor, and my love.
Second, mommy is a teacher at heart. She is passionate about teaching. Her students adored her, loved her, spoiled her, and remembered her although they studied with her years ago for a short period of only one or two years. Don't know how she did it, but her students genuinely adored her.
Third, mommy is a feminist in so many ways. She does not cook, nor does she force me cook or do housework well. This is very strange for a Vietnamese woman to do! She encourages me to read, perform well academically, think, show off my intellectual ability, and grow as much as I could. She always makes me feel that I am so special and that I do not need to worry much about men. Let them worry about me instead. As a result, I am ignorant, naive, arrogant, and clueless when it comes to men and romantic love! Mom never trained me well in that area.
Fourth, we share common values. Mom's heart is very soft and she cares so much for the disadvantaged people. Every year she raises money for the orphanage here and there. Her pension, savings, and those of her retired friends go toward charity organizations. Because of this reason, mommy easily understands the way I lead my life although I am sure there are so many times she disagrees and wish that I would do otherwise.
I grew up with mom for ten years because dad was in America. I did not know until recently how much she influenced me. Unlike other moms, when I was young I was allowed to play with children in very "bad neighborhood." This helped me tremendously in my social skills. I have learned to interact, talk, work, and joke with people from many backgrounds because of this. The good thing was I understood them but I never copied their language, their behavior, or their way of thinking. Since very young age, mom enabled me to expose myself to different cultures and yet hang on to my core values.
Our neighbors respected mom greatly although she rarely stepped out of the door to interact with them. In their eyes, she was a highly educated woman who was busy reading, painting, and writing. Every time we moved, and we moved quite a few number of times, we brought with us hundred of books. That was our main treasure. Although we may not have enough money for food, school tuition, and clothing, mommy always put aside budget for book purchase.
Mom's door was always open to visitors. My older sisters' and brothers' friends loved to drop by for a visit because they always felt welcome by her. She would laugh at their jokes, joined in the conversations, gave comments here and there, and just simply enjoyed their presence. I was born an introvert, yet because of mom's way of living, I liked to be surrounded by other people. Whenever I needed time on my own, I just ran to a lake somewhere, sat and read, and then came back to the my crowded home.
Mom is very determined despite her feminine look and her lack of ability to defend her wants and needs vocally. Whatever she wanted, she just did it. It took her seven times to pass her driving test, yet she did not give up. It took her seven years to pass her A.A. degree, yet she kept trying. It was funny to see how painful it was for her to pass her last required course, math, and it was a sweating labor for her. I admired her so much for her perseverance.
Mom and I did not get along that well. I think none of her kids, except my older brother who loved her unconditionally and ignored everything she did, quite appreciated and understood mom the way she was. Main reason, I think, is probably because we view her as our friend more than as our mom. However, the older I become, the more experience I earned, and the more wisdom I accumulated, the more I loved mom. It was scary from times to times to realize how similar we are. Yet I am so proud of her that the fear slowly subside.
Mommy is the best thing that happened in my life. I can proudly state that I am everything I am because of her love, her support, and her blind trust in who I am.
Mom, I love you.
July 23, 2010.
Saigon, Vietnam.
First, mommy is a writer. She writes as easily as she breaths. It is more like a desire than a task she does everyday. And the same for me. If I do not write, I don't think I could overcome all the obstacles in my life. Writing is my therapy, my stress reliever, my friend, my mentor, and my love.
Second, mommy is a teacher at heart. She is passionate about teaching. Her students adored her, loved her, spoiled her, and remembered her although they studied with her years ago for a short period of only one or two years. Don't know how she did it, but her students genuinely adored her.
Third, mommy is a feminist in so many ways. She does not cook, nor does she force me cook or do housework well. This is very strange for a Vietnamese woman to do! She encourages me to read, perform well academically, think, show off my intellectual ability, and grow as much as I could. She always makes me feel that I am so special and that I do not need to worry much about men. Let them worry about me instead. As a result, I am ignorant, naive, arrogant, and clueless when it comes to men and romantic love! Mom never trained me well in that area.
Fourth, we share common values. Mom's heart is very soft and she cares so much for the disadvantaged people. Every year she raises money for the orphanage here and there. Her pension, savings, and those of her retired friends go toward charity organizations. Because of this reason, mommy easily understands the way I lead my life although I am sure there are so many times she disagrees and wish that I would do otherwise.
I grew up with mom for ten years because dad was in America. I did not know until recently how much she influenced me. Unlike other moms, when I was young I was allowed to play with children in very "bad neighborhood." This helped me tremendously in my social skills. I have learned to interact, talk, work, and joke with people from many backgrounds because of this. The good thing was I understood them but I never copied their language, their behavior, or their way of thinking. Since very young age, mom enabled me to expose myself to different cultures and yet hang on to my core values.
Our neighbors respected mom greatly although she rarely stepped out of the door to interact with them. In their eyes, she was a highly educated woman who was busy reading, painting, and writing. Every time we moved, and we moved quite a few number of times, we brought with us hundred of books. That was our main treasure. Although we may not have enough money for food, school tuition, and clothing, mommy always put aside budget for book purchase.
Mom's door was always open to visitors. My older sisters' and brothers' friends loved to drop by for a visit because they always felt welcome by her. She would laugh at their jokes, joined in the conversations, gave comments here and there, and just simply enjoyed their presence. I was born an introvert, yet because of mom's way of living, I liked to be surrounded by other people. Whenever I needed time on my own, I just ran to a lake somewhere, sat and read, and then came back to the my crowded home.
Mom is very determined despite her feminine look and her lack of ability to defend her wants and needs vocally. Whatever she wanted, she just did it. It took her seven times to pass her driving test, yet she did not give up. It took her seven years to pass her A.A. degree, yet she kept trying. It was funny to see how painful it was for her to pass her last required course, math, and it was a sweating labor for her. I admired her so much for her perseverance.
Mom and I did not get along that well. I think none of her kids, except my older brother who loved her unconditionally and ignored everything she did, quite appreciated and understood mom the way she was. Main reason, I think, is probably because we view her as our friend more than as our mom. However, the older I become, the more experience I earned, and the more wisdom I accumulated, the more I loved mom. It was scary from times to times to realize how similar we are. Yet I am so proud of her that the fear slowly subside.
Mommy is the best thing that happened in my life. I can proudly state that I am everything I am because of her love, her support, and her blind trust in who I am.
Mom, I love you.
July 23, 2010.
Saigon, Vietnam.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Sharing from Vietnam - Fortune Telling
Monday afternoon is our unit's Veggie-and-Dip Day, when one staff chops the veggies and the other prepares the dip for the whole office to eat and chat. We gather around the round table in our Career Centre and talk about fortune telling! Reason is I just came back from seeing one last Saturday afternoon.
This is my first trip to a Vietnamese fortune teller, and it was so fun for many reasons. One, I have tried desperately to meet my close lady friends, who are extremely busy with work and family that our date kept being postponed. However, the moment my email of 'fortune teller visit' was sent out, we quickly set up a date and everybody showed up on time with enthusiasm. Two, I felt as if we returned to the high school days, when girls giggled about guys they fell in love with and talked about things that mattered in their life. It was such a special feeling sitting among them, talking about relationship, family, work, and giggled at silly things with them. Third, it was really cool observing how the fortune teller did her job. Listening to her soothing words and skillful questions, I admired her ability and told myself that she would be a very good counselor. I did not tell her exactly what I did for a living, for I knew she would stop talking if she knew I was working as a counselor. Fourth, listening and sharing with the girlfriends about what the fortune teller told us was so fun. None of us could stop laughing. We kept talking over each other and felt so good afterward. Finally, I sincerely understood why people went to see a fortune teller that often. It did not matter if she could really predict the future or not. It did not also matter that she could fix your problems at all. A fortune teller in Vietnam, after all, functions as a mental counselor in the Western culture. People come for advice, guidance, confirmation, and support. A burden is lifted after you left their door, and until the next trip life is a little bit easier to handle.
When I left, the two young ladies were nervously waiting for their turn. I guessed they came there to ask about their upcoming university entrance chances. Outside two young, fashionable men waiting on their expensive motorbikes. One of them asked me, 'Older sister, please tell me if she is good. I'd like to know if I should open my fashion shop or not!' And then he went on marketing his fashion shop with my lady friends, whom probably appeared like shoppers than I did. I took one last look at the scene to absorb everything into my writer's mind and left, feeling so happy about the experience that I knew I had enough energy for the long, busy weekend ahead of me.
I do not know if I ever feel the needs to visit one again, but I am sure if that is the only way to meet my girlfriends, I would not hesitate to do so! Um, maybe one of those days when I retire, I should do a quantitative research about fortune tellers and their positive impact on their clients. For now, if you ever come to Vietnam and want to visit one, I am willing to bond with you over a fortune teller visit.
Saigon, Vietnam.
April 19th, 2010
This is my first trip to a Vietnamese fortune teller, and it was so fun for many reasons. One, I have tried desperately to meet my close lady friends, who are extremely busy with work and family that our date kept being postponed. However, the moment my email of 'fortune teller visit' was sent out, we quickly set up a date and everybody showed up on time with enthusiasm. Two, I felt as if we returned to the high school days, when girls giggled about guys they fell in love with and talked about things that mattered in their life. It was such a special feeling sitting among them, talking about relationship, family, work, and giggled at silly things with them. Third, it was really cool observing how the fortune teller did her job. Listening to her soothing words and skillful questions, I admired her ability and told myself that she would be a very good counselor. I did not tell her exactly what I did for a living, for I knew she would stop talking if she knew I was working as a counselor. Fourth, listening and sharing with the girlfriends about what the fortune teller told us was so fun. None of us could stop laughing. We kept talking over each other and felt so good afterward. Finally, I sincerely understood why people went to see a fortune teller that often. It did not matter if she could really predict the future or not. It did not also matter that she could fix your problems at all. A fortune teller in Vietnam, after all, functions as a mental counselor in the Western culture. People come for advice, guidance, confirmation, and support. A burden is lifted after you left their door, and until the next trip life is a little bit easier to handle.
When I left, the two young ladies were nervously waiting for their turn. I guessed they came there to ask about their upcoming university entrance chances. Outside two young, fashionable men waiting on their expensive motorbikes. One of them asked me, 'Older sister, please tell me if she is good. I'd like to know if I should open my fashion shop or not!' And then he went on marketing his fashion shop with my lady friends, whom probably appeared like shoppers than I did. I took one last look at the scene to absorb everything into my writer's mind and left, feeling so happy about the experience that I knew I had enough energy for the long, busy weekend ahead of me.
I do not know if I ever feel the needs to visit one again, but I am sure if that is the only way to meet my girlfriends, I would not hesitate to do so! Um, maybe one of those days when I retire, I should do a quantitative research about fortune tellers and their positive impact on their clients. For now, if you ever come to Vietnam and want to visit one, I am willing to bond with you over a fortune teller visit.
Saigon, Vietnam.
April 19th, 2010
Sharing from Vietnam - Hanoi Campus Students
Whenever I am in Hanoi Campus, I am thankful to our university's 'English Speaking Campus' policy. The reason is that the Northern accent always bring up bad memories which create unconscious mental block toward my students. The use of English enables me to see them for who they are, young men and women with eagerness to discover life, career, and love. English language acts as the bridge that narrows the gap between me, the daughter of the South, with them, the children of the North, the two parts of one country that were torn apart by war, stereotypes, and even hatred.
This is my fourth trip to Hanoi Campus, during which I work intensively from 8am to 11pm everyday. My schedule includes running workshop and providing individual counseling in school, as well as acting as students' spiritual mentor after work hours. The impact therefore is also more obvious than in the Saigon South Campus. Students know I am only here for a limited of time, so they try their best to utilize me, attend my workshops with committed participation, and chase me whenever they could to share, talk, and laugh. Conversations range from career development (of course) to love, youth, and sex! The latter part may sound inappropriate for career counselors who are trained in the Western world; however, I have learned that in Vietnam, the American Psychological Association's definition of dual relationship is not necessarily applicable. I have learned that going out with students after work hours provides much more benefits to their mental and spiritual well being. Of course, the confidentiality rule and the ability to keep a boundary between me and my students, especially male, are extraordinarily important. I can proudly say that I have mastered these two skills well. Thanks to Santa Clara University' Counseling Professors and my three older brothers' training.
For the last several days in Hanoi, I have had so many high moments. Students who were so depressed and hopeless two or three semesters ago came back with bright smiles, confident attitude, numerous hope, and clearer direction in life. Just one small push from me helped them start their journey of self-actualization, which created the needed trickle effect to their love life, their relationship with their parents, and their career development. I still remember the tears I had in my first trip to Hanoi, during which I doubted if my services could make any differences in the lives. And now, four semesters later the results slowly show.
Often in my workshops I am surprised by the deep sharing from my students, whose parents are working in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Education, or the Ministry of whatever one can think of. And then I suddenly realize that these young men and women, one day, will be the leaders of this country. I find myself challenging their critical thinking more than ever, pushing them to question the authority and the habits that are created by what they called 'our culture says so.' I find myself looking in their eyes, giving them my energy, passion, and the ability to carry on the 'impossible dreams.' I want them to kindle that fire of motivation inside their heart because the moment they let that dream die, their spirit would die too! I don't want to see them becoming corporate leaders whose main goal is to make as much money as possible, who would forget that there was a period in their youth when they dreamed of music composing, fashion designing, charity working, and more. I don't want to see them becoming the national political leaders, whose main goal is to have as much power as possible despite the suffering of the nation's citizens and natural resources. I believe that if I (and others) could plan a seed now, regardless how tiny that seed is, then this country someday somehow may become a better place for the next generations.
Students - I have learned - are lovely regardless of where they come from, whose their parents are, and what position they will have after their graduation. They all share similar concerns of the Millennium Generation: Who do I become in the future? What if I fail at what I like to do? How do I know if my life is fulfilling or not?
My goal is to enable them to discover the answers on their own without losing their childhood dreams.
Hanoi, Vietnam.
March 19, 2010
This is my fourth trip to Hanoi Campus, during which I work intensively from 8am to 11pm everyday. My schedule includes running workshop and providing individual counseling in school, as well as acting as students' spiritual mentor after work hours. The impact therefore is also more obvious than in the Saigon South Campus. Students know I am only here for a limited of time, so they try their best to utilize me, attend my workshops with committed participation, and chase me whenever they could to share, talk, and laugh. Conversations range from career development (of course) to love, youth, and sex! The latter part may sound inappropriate for career counselors who are trained in the Western world; however, I have learned that in Vietnam, the American Psychological Association's definition of dual relationship is not necessarily applicable. I have learned that going out with students after work hours provides much more benefits to their mental and spiritual well being. Of course, the confidentiality rule and the ability to keep a boundary between me and my students, especially male, are extraordinarily important. I can proudly say that I have mastered these two skills well. Thanks to Santa Clara University' Counseling Professors and my three older brothers' training.
For the last several days in Hanoi, I have had so many high moments. Students who were so depressed and hopeless two or three semesters ago came back with bright smiles, confident attitude, numerous hope, and clearer direction in life. Just one small push from me helped them start their journey of self-actualization, which created the needed trickle effect to their love life, their relationship with their parents, and their career development. I still remember the tears I had in my first trip to Hanoi, during which I doubted if my services could make any differences in the lives. And now, four semesters later the results slowly show.
Often in my workshops I am surprised by the deep sharing from my students, whose parents are working in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Education, or the Ministry of whatever one can think of. And then I suddenly realize that these young men and women, one day, will be the leaders of this country. I find myself challenging their critical thinking more than ever, pushing them to question the authority and the habits that are created by what they called 'our culture says so.' I find myself looking in their eyes, giving them my energy, passion, and the ability to carry on the 'impossible dreams.' I want them to kindle that fire of motivation inside their heart because the moment they let that dream die, their spirit would die too! I don't want to see them becoming corporate leaders whose main goal is to make as much money as possible, who would forget that there was a period in their youth when they dreamed of music composing, fashion designing, charity working, and more. I don't want to see them becoming the national political leaders, whose main goal is to have as much power as possible despite the suffering of the nation's citizens and natural resources. I believe that if I (and others) could plan a seed now, regardless how tiny that seed is, then this country someday somehow may become a better place for the next generations.
Students - I have learned - are lovely regardless of where they come from, whose their parents are, and what position they will have after their graduation. They all share similar concerns of the Millennium Generation: Who do I become in the future? What if I fail at what I like to do? How do I know if my life is fulfilling or not?
My goal is to enable them to discover the answers on their own without losing their childhood dreams.
Hanoi, Vietnam.
March 19, 2010
Sharing from Vietnam - The Students
My students often teased me when we happened to meet in the hallway, 'So, Phoenix, do you still love your work?' And the response would always be, 'Of course! How could I not love it? Look at who I meet everyday!' Then they walked away with a satisfied glance to their friends who were walking with them at the moment. Vietnamese students - It had been strange how they tested me and respected me for simple, little things.
One time a student sat down at lunch with me and shared with me, 'We have split opinion about you. Half of us just adore and love you. The other half think you are too strict.' I said, 'Oh, really,' and then smiled. At the moment I had the urge to ask him more about the story, but I let it go, and I was glad I did that because the conversation might turn into a gossip which I never enjoyed.
The other time a student emailed me, 'Phoenix, all we talked about today on our Facebook was you. You are very popular among us now. Hanoi students are jealous of us because we have you here full time and they only have you for one week.' I emailed my appreciation to the student and nervously waited for something to happen. As I predicted, the following days I had student visitors who came to talk just for the sake of talking. They did not have any real career concern. I finally realized that they came to know who I was, tested my ability, and observed me secretly. 'This was not going to work,' I annoyingly told myself, and then I used the key skill of counseling - just smile and listen. The trick worked, and several days later I received normal career questions. It was a such a relief. I think I kind of understand how the pop stars feel everyday now! This is an exaggerated statement, but being idolized was something I did not expect when I decided to work in Vietnam.
The toughest experience was lecturing the MBA students, whose age was only several years younger than mine, whose experience was several years shorter than mine, and whose attitude was full of pride and ego that were common among MBA students - the future leaders of the local business sector. It was twelve long weeks of labor, when I practiced skillful pedagogy, appropriate flexibility, and needed firmness. It was hard-earned respect, but that was worth my time and effort. I was glad that I could plan a seed in their heart that profit should not be the only priority in life. That was very anti-MBA, but who cared! I was a counselor after all :)
Students in Vietnam, I still have to learn about them greatly to serve them better, but the surprises that they have brought to me so far are pleasant. I think things can only get better from here.
Saigon, Vietnam
February 19, 2010
One time a student sat down at lunch with me and shared with me, 'We have split opinion about you. Half of us just adore and love you. The other half think you are too strict.' I said, 'Oh, really,' and then smiled. At the moment I had the urge to ask him more about the story, but I let it go, and I was glad I did that because the conversation might turn into a gossip which I never enjoyed.
The other time a student emailed me, 'Phoenix, all we talked about today on our Facebook was you. You are very popular among us now. Hanoi students are jealous of us because we have you here full time and they only have you for one week.' I emailed my appreciation to the student and nervously waited for something to happen. As I predicted, the following days I had student visitors who came to talk just for the sake of talking. They did not have any real career concern. I finally realized that they came to know who I was, tested my ability, and observed me secretly. 'This was not going to work,' I annoyingly told myself, and then I used the key skill of counseling - just smile and listen. The trick worked, and several days later I received normal career questions. It was a such a relief. I think I kind of understand how the pop stars feel everyday now! This is an exaggerated statement, but being idolized was something I did not expect when I decided to work in Vietnam.
The toughest experience was lecturing the MBA students, whose age was only several years younger than mine, whose experience was several years shorter than mine, and whose attitude was full of pride and ego that were common among MBA students - the future leaders of the local business sector. It was twelve long weeks of labor, when I practiced skillful pedagogy, appropriate flexibility, and needed firmness. It was hard-earned respect, but that was worth my time and effort. I was glad that I could plan a seed in their heart that profit should not be the only priority in life. That was very anti-MBA, but who cared! I was a counselor after all :)
Students in Vietnam, I still have to learn about them greatly to serve them better, but the surprises that they have brought to me so far are pleasant. I think things can only get better from here.
Saigon, Vietnam
February 19, 2010
Sharing from Vietnam - Hot Noel
I woke up and found the morning of December 24th exceptionally hot and bright. After one o'clock, only one guy and I remained in the office. I had appointments with students until 4pm, and my colleague was finishing his Christmas gifts for family and friends. I left the university at 4:20pm, felt weird and excited at the same time for the night ahead of me. First a small party for Ian and his friends, then a full adventurous night with my students and others for a gift giving mission to the homeless of Saigon City.
Traffic was horrible at 10pm. It seemed like all Saigon residents who were under thirty got out of their houses to raid the city streets. I felt as if I could physically sense the air, which was a combination of heat, bike and taxi's emission, cigarette smokes, and human body's scent. And God, the noise was almost unbearable!
Eighty young people left the meeting place at 12am, with bags of gifts, used clothes, and some cash for special cases. We went in team of eight motorbikes that carry sixteen people, stopped together whenever spotted a homeless person on the sidewalk, distributed the gift silently if he/she was sleeping, or held a small conversation with them if they were awake. Several incidents marked my memory for the night.
1. A woman with a small child wrapped in blanket sat on the sidewalk as if she was waiting for us. The moment the group leader jumped off her motorbike, the woman wept. Just one look at the scene, the woman, and the child, my theatre experience screamed out, 'fake, something's wrong, don't give the cash to her.' Yet I waited silently with others. Pain stabbed my heart as I saw that the baby was awake yet very quiet; my anger rose up as I speculated, 'A woman who paid the baby's mom some cash to borrow her for the night's act. How many more hours would this baby suffer in that blanket in this heat? How many more people would stop to help her and felt so happy with themselves afterward. This is ridiculous!'
2. A middle-age woman hysterically cried the moment she saw me approaching her, pulling her pants down to show an imaginary surgery's scar on her stomach. My head quickly diagnosed, 'mental health, probably schizophrenia, not dangerous, but no cash or long attention should be given.' I politely put the gifts next to her, smiled and listened for two minutes, then waved the others off when they became worried and started to assist because of the noise. As I left, she had a small crowd of audience including several other youth in Santa Clause custom, who were probably doing the same thing as we did, and some local neighbors who went out to make sure the woman was not harmed. A question remained with me until now, 'What happened to her? How come she was not hospitalized? What other thing I could do beside walking away? Where could I refer her to for further help?''
3. An elder woman sweeping the sidewalk, cleaning up what looked like a food stall in the big yet dark alley. My student and I came to offer the gift and was angrily refused by her. We later figured out she must be the owner of the big house where she stepped into after sweeping us away. My novel brain immediately imagined, 'old grandmother who did lots of house chores to feel useful by their wealthy son and daughter in law; she must feel embarrassed by our offer; I wonder why such a elder lady got out of her house at this time of the night.' My student laughed the incident away, yet somehow the small, unhappy elder woman could not escape my mind.
4. A young man jumped from his sleep and screamed angry words at me when I tried to put the gift bag next to his bundle of clothes. He was a very light sleeper, and I must scare him to death. I took several steps back and gave him time to see my face, then bowed deeply to apologize and handed him the gifts. A shy smile pull his mouth's corner up, and I genuinely felt content for the first time in the night.
5. A middle-age man sat in front of a house's locked door with his head bowed between his knees. Hearing my foot steps he turned up to look at me. His eyes bright with intelligence and fierceness, which softened when I ask for permission to give him the gift bag. He nodded with dignity as I bowed to say good bye and wish him a peaceful time. I could feel his look as I turned to walk away, yet it was a safe feeling, and I turned to smile one more time. Then that was when I suddenly discovered who he looked like - Jesus. My heart leaped, and all the sad, irritating questions were swept away. Everything suddenly made sense when I thought about the Person because of Him I did this mission.
Our group went out of gifts at 3am. We returned to the meeting place to meet the other group members for the closure ceremony. I was disappointed to see the lack of spirit among the members as well as leaders of this youth's group. Comments here and there showed egocentric and disrespectful attitude. Sharing showed that many did the trip to collect a 'strange' ornament for their non-academic experience. The emotions were shallow, and the atmosphere was insecure. There was not harmony, inner peace, or love present in the room full of eighty bodies. I was simply sad. These young friends need to learn a lot from their international peers for servant leadership skills.
Despite all the hard feelings, I was happy that I spent my Christmas Eve this way.
Maybe it is time to start caring and giving more than once a year.
December 25th, 2009.
Saigon, Vietnam.
Traffic was horrible at 10pm. It seemed like all Saigon residents who were under thirty got out of their houses to raid the city streets. I felt as if I could physically sense the air, which was a combination of heat, bike and taxi's emission, cigarette smokes, and human body's scent. And God, the noise was almost unbearable!
Eighty young people left the meeting place at 12am, with bags of gifts, used clothes, and some cash for special cases. We went in team of eight motorbikes that carry sixteen people, stopped together whenever spotted a homeless person on the sidewalk, distributed the gift silently if he/she was sleeping, or held a small conversation with them if they were awake. Several incidents marked my memory for the night.
1. A woman with a small child wrapped in blanket sat on the sidewalk as if she was waiting for us. The moment the group leader jumped off her motorbike, the woman wept. Just one look at the scene, the woman, and the child, my theatre experience screamed out, 'fake, something's wrong, don't give the cash to her.' Yet I waited silently with others. Pain stabbed my heart as I saw that the baby was awake yet very quiet; my anger rose up as I speculated, 'A woman who paid the baby's mom some cash to borrow her for the night's act. How many more hours would this baby suffer in that blanket in this heat? How many more people would stop to help her and felt so happy with themselves afterward. This is ridiculous!'
2. A middle-age woman hysterically cried the moment she saw me approaching her, pulling her pants down to show an imaginary surgery's scar on her stomach. My head quickly diagnosed, 'mental health, probably schizophrenia, not dangerous, but no cash or long attention should be given.' I politely put the gifts next to her, smiled and listened for two minutes, then waved the others off when they became worried and started to assist because of the noise. As I left, she had a small crowd of audience including several other youth in Santa Clause custom, who were probably doing the same thing as we did, and some local neighbors who went out to make sure the woman was not harmed. A question remained with me until now, 'What happened to her? How come she was not hospitalized? What other thing I could do beside walking away? Where could I refer her to for further help?''
3. An elder woman sweeping the sidewalk, cleaning up what looked like a food stall in the big yet dark alley. My student and I came to offer the gift and was angrily refused by her. We later figured out she must be the owner of the big house where she stepped into after sweeping us away. My novel brain immediately imagined, 'old grandmother who did lots of house chores to feel useful by their wealthy son and daughter in law; she must feel embarrassed by our offer; I wonder why such a elder lady got out of her house at this time of the night.' My student laughed the incident away, yet somehow the small, unhappy elder woman could not escape my mind.
4. A young man jumped from his sleep and screamed angry words at me when I tried to put the gift bag next to his bundle of clothes. He was a very light sleeper, and I must scare him to death. I took several steps back and gave him time to see my face, then bowed deeply to apologize and handed him the gifts. A shy smile pull his mouth's corner up, and I genuinely felt content for the first time in the night.
5. A middle-age man sat in front of a house's locked door with his head bowed between his knees. Hearing my foot steps he turned up to look at me. His eyes bright with intelligence and fierceness, which softened when I ask for permission to give him the gift bag. He nodded with dignity as I bowed to say good bye and wish him a peaceful time. I could feel his look as I turned to walk away, yet it was a safe feeling, and I turned to smile one more time. Then that was when I suddenly discovered who he looked like - Jesus. My heart leaped, and all the sad, irritating questions were swept away. Everything suddenly made sense when I thought about the Person because of Him I did this mission.
Our group went out of gifts at 3am. We returned to the meeting place to meet the other group members for the closure ceremony. I was disappointed to see the lack of spirit among the members as well as leaders of this youth's group. Comments here and there showed egocentric and disrespectful attitude. Sharing showed that many did the trip to collect a 'strange' ornament for their non-academic experience. The emotions were shallow, and the atmosphere was insecure. There was not harmony, inner peace, or love present in the room full of eighty bodies. I was simply sad. These young friends need to learn a lot from their international peers for servant leadership skills.
Despite all the hard feelings, I was happy that I spent my Christmas Eve this way.
Maybe it is time to start caring and giving more than once a year.
December 25th, 2009.
Saigon, Vietnam.
Sharing from Vietnam - The Spirit of Love
Ian woke up at midnight and cried, 'Mommy, mommy.'
'Yes, baby, mommy here.' I responded.
'No blanket. Itchy, mommy.'
I softly massaged his legs where the mosquitoes bite caused the itch and sang him back to sleep. Five minutes later, he called out, 'Milk, mommy' and slept peacefully after sucking his bottle.
Then I suddenly thought of the kids born with HIV whom I visited in the Tam Binh Orphanage this afternoon, and strong emotions rose up in my chest. I remember the little ones who were older than three yet much smaller in size compared to Ian who was now two years eight months. I remember the curious looks in their eyes, the sparkles that lightened up theirl faces when each came forward to received their Christmas gifts, and the contagious laugh that shook their whole bodies when the guy in Santa Clause's costume laughed 'Ho Ho Ho' here and there. I thought of them and asked myself the question, 'Who would comfort them in the middle of the night when they cried? Who would softly sing a song for them to sleep at bed time? Who would hold them and let them cry their stresses out when they need to?' The answer is probably none. Although the caregivers were loving and caring, the ratio of caregivers to the kids is too low to allow individual attention. Fortunately for the kids, the ladies who worked there showed genuine love for them. I also saw the pride in the eyes of the centre's director when he looked at the kids. According to Dr. Moretti, one of my former professors at Santa Clara University, that was the main ingredient for the development of kids in the orphanage: love.
Tam, my counselor friend, organized this trip for us. The director gave her a wish list from the kids, then we asked friends and colleagues for help, and within two weeks we raised about one and a half thousand USD to fulfill their wish, with some leftover for another HIV centre and next year's project. Some of my RMIT colleagues and fourteen ABC school teachers accompanied Tam to the centre for the event. At the end, I am not sure who were the givers and who were the receivers. Everyone was so happy; the joy from the kids when they opened their gifts quickly got to the adults, and soon we all sat down among the kids to play with the toys.
Taking a final look at the chaotic but fun scene, where laughter and loud talking mixed with the controlled car's engine, and pieces of the gifts' colorful wrappers scattered on the ground, I again experienced the genuine joy of Christmas. It was a rare feeling that one only experienced as a child during Christmas time: checking the gifts under the Christmas tree and opening them in Christmas Day.
On the back of the motorbike trip back to home, I prayed that there was enough food for everyone in our world, that small children were properly cared off, and that love was abundant so that despite the darkness of wars, conflicts, hatred, and pain, there would always be hope for a better life.
December 17th, 2009
Saigon, Vietnam
'Yes, baby, mommy here.' I responded.
'No blanket. Itchy, mommy.'
I softly massaged his legs where the mosquitoes bite caused the itch and sang him back to sleep. Five minutes later, he called out, 'Milk, mommy' and slept peacefully after sucking his bottle.
Then I suddenly thought of the kids born with HIV whom I visited in the Tam Binh Orphanage this afternoon, and strong emotions rose up in my chest. I remember the little ones who were older than three yet much smaller in size compared to Ian who was now two years eight months. I remember the curious looks in their eyes, the sparkles that lightened up theirl faces when each came forward to received their Christmas gifts, and the contagious laugh that shook their whole bodies when the guy in Santa Clause's costume laughed 'Ho Ho Ho' here and there. I thought of them and asked myself the question, 'Who would comfort them in the middle of the night when they cried? Who would softly sing a song for them to sleep at bed time? Who would hold them and let them cry their stresses out when they need to?' The answer is probably none. Although the caregivers were loving and caring, the ratio of caregivers to the kids is too low to allow individual attention. Fortunately for the kids, the ladies who worked there showed genuine love for them. I also saw the pride in the eyes of the centre's director when he looked at the kids. According to Dr. Moretti, one of my former professors at Santa Clara University, that was the main ingredient for the development of kids in the orphanage: love.
Tam, my counselor friend, organized this trip for us. The director gave her a wish list from the kids, then we asked friends and colleagues for help, and within two weeks we raised about one and a half thousand USD to fulfill their wish, with some leftover for another HIV centre and next year's project. Some of my RMIT colleagues and fourteen ABC school teachers accompanied Tam to the centre for the event. At the end, I am not sure who were the givers and who were the receivers. Everyone was so happy; the joy from the kids when they opened their gifts quickly got to the adults, and soon we all sat down among the kids to play with the toys.
Taking a final look at the chaotic but fun scene, where laughter and loud talking mixed with the controlled car's engine, and pieces of the gifts' colorful wrappers scattered on the ground, I again experienced the genuine joy of Christmas. It was a rare feeling that one only experienced as a child during Christmas time: checking the gifts under the Christmas tree and opening them in Christmas Day.
On the back of the motorbike trip back to home, I prayed that there was enough food for everyone in our world, that small children were properly cared off, and that love was abundant so that despite the darkness of wars, conflicts, hatred, and pain, there would always be hope for a better life.
December 17th, 2009
Saigon, Vietnam
Sharing from Vietnam - Thanksgiving
Two more hours and it will be the first Thanksgiving I spend in Vietnam with Ian. Saigon's weather has cooled down significantly for the last five days, yet in the absence of the commercialization that often associates with the Holidays in the US, I have not felt that it's Thanksgiving Day until this afternoon, when some of my American colleagues gather in the Career Centre to discuss their plan for tomorrow night.
Nineteen years and two days ago, I first landed my feet on the US land one day after Thanksgiving Day, feeling sick and lonely in a country that differs from language, weather, food, to all other cultural aspects. The dreams that I had those days were 1) I woke up and spoke English fluently, 2) I could quickly finish high school, college, work and save enough money to visit Vietnam, and 3) I could act as confidently and friendly as Anna, the only white girl who spoke to me in the History class. Nineteen years later, all of those dreams came true, and I am sitting here, in a nice, comfortable apartment in Vietnam, craving Wienerschitzel's Chili Dog and McDonald's Kid Cone. How contradictory yet only when I live and work in Vietnam that I discover how deeply I miss America, how Americanized I have become over the years, and how patriotic I have grown toward my adopted country. The country that not only allows me to become a strong woman, but also enables me to transform into an independent and educated Vietnamese American woman, one who defines herself in both nationality: Vietnamese and American. I am not a complete, whole person otherwise.
Friends and strangers often question me why I refer to myself as Vietnamese American when I did not arrive in the US until fourteen years old, an age that would categorize myself into the one and a half generation of the Viet immigration population. I simply answer, 'Because I cannot be either or. ' I am both, and that is the beauty of it. Yes, I eat rice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Yes, I speak Vietnamese at home, celebrate Lunar New Year, and bow when meet elder people. Also yes, I speak my mind when I'd like to, and I expect others to respect me disregard my gender, race, or nationality. And also yes, I think my brothers should know how to do house chores as well as I should learn how to change my own car's oil, assemble my own IKEA's furniture, and refill the 20-liter water container.
My brother in law, a lovely Caucasian American gentleman, once laughed and irritated at the same time when I used the term 'foreigner' to refer to him. It was probably ridiculous to him that I was living in America and yet called a native American a foreigner. It was difficult for me to articulate to my brother in law at the moment why I said what I said. Because I did not (dare to) see myself as an American, I thought of all non-Vietnamese as foreigners. It had nothing to do with 'I hate America, or I don't want to be Americanized, or American is only my temporary place to live.' No, it was simply because I did not think I could refer to myself as American after arriving in the US for only several years, not to mention did not even master the English language.
Now, at age 33, I no longer use the third person pronoun when refer to the Americans. I truly believe in the Constitution that holds this beautiful country together. I strongly believe that I among the five percentage of other Americans who live and work abroad are our country's quiet diplomats. In the Thanksgiving Day, once I again I appreciate the opportunity that God has granted me - being able to integrate the best of the two rich cultures: Vietnamese and American.
Saigon, Vietnam, 11:13 pm, November 25, 2009
Nineteen years and two days ago, I first landed my feet on the US land one day after Thanksgiving Day, feeling sick and lonely in a country that differs from language, weather, food, to all other cultural aspects. The dreams that I had those days were 1) I woke up and spoke English fluently, 2) I could quickly finish high school, college, work and save enough money to visit Vietnam, and 3) I could act as confidently and friendly as Anna, the only white girl who spoke to me in the History class. Nineteen years later, all of those dreams came true, and I am sitting here, in a nice, comfortable apartment in Vietnam, craving Wienerschitzel's Chili Dog and McDonald's Kid Cone. How contradictory yet only when I live and work in Vietnam that I discover how deeply I miss America, how Americanized I have become over the years, and how patriotic I have grown toward my adopted country. The country that not only allows me to become a strong woman, but also enables me to transform into an independent and educated Vietnamese American woman, one who defines herself in both nationality: Vietnamese and American. I am not a complete, whole person otherwise.
Friends and strangers often question me why I refer to myself as Vietnamese American when I did not arrive in the US until fourteen years old, an age that would categorize myself into the one and a half generation of the Viet immigration population. I simply answer, 'Because I cannot be either or. ' I am both, and that is the beauty of it. Yes, I eat rice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Yes, I speak Vietnamese at home, celebrate Lunar New Year, and bow when meet elder people. Also yes, I speak my mind when I'd like to, and I expect others to respect me disregard my gender, race, or nationality. And also yes, I think my brothers should know how to do house chores as well as I should learn how to change my own car's oil, assemble my own IKEA's furniture, and refill the 20-liter water container.
My brother in law, a lovely Caucasian American gentleman, once laughed and irritated at the same time when I used the term 'foreigner' to refer to him. It was probably ridiculous to him that I was living in America and yet called a native American a foreigner. It was difficult for me to articulate to my brother in law at the moment why I said what I said. Because I did not (dare to) see myself as an American, I thought of all non-Vietnamese as foreigners. It had nothing to do with 'I hate America, or I don't want to be Americanized, or American is only my temporary place to live.' No, it was simply because I did not think I could refer to myself as American after arriving in the US for only several years, not to mention did not even master the English language.
Now, at age 33, I no longer use the third person pronoun when refer to the Americans. I truly believe in the Constitution that holds this beautiful country together. I strongly believe that I among the five percentage of other Americans who live and work abroad are our country's quiet diplomats. In the Thanksgiving Day, once I again I appreciate the opportunity that God has granted me - being able to integrate the best of the two rich cultures: Vietnamese and American.
Saigon, Vietnam, 11:13 pm, November 25, 2009
Sharing from Vietnam - The Beauty of Diversity
My first impression of Kuala Lumpur (KL) is that I feel fit in immediately. Only after one night did I discover the reason – it is because the population here is so diverse that nobody would even give me a second look despite that fact that I dress and look very different from the local women. It seems as if I can be whatever and still easily accepted by the Malay.
Coming to KL for a four day MBTI certification program, it has been an exceptional experience for me to sit among the classmates including Thai women, Muslim Malay women, Muslim Malay men, and Chinese Singaporean women. The learning I got from our Indian look, British named, Malay born, and Singapore resident facilitator is equal to that from my classmates. We discussed, laughed, asked questions, argued, agreed, and teased each other continuously. I have never experienced such level of comfort in a new group that quickly before, including in Vietnam, my motherland.
In our group, people speak English with various accents, yet nobody doubts each other’s intellectual ability. The women in traditional Malay dress and turban are as outspoken are the men, if not more. I feel empowered just by looking at them and hearing them express their ideas and opinion in such confidence. When the exam time comes, it was fun to see everyone giggled and whispered as if we were in high school time again.
Four days have come to an end, and I feel as if I am leaving my comrades behind. I truly believe that these classmates would go back to their organizations and make their working environment a better place regardless the fact that it is a huge hierarchical corporate, the Ministry of Education, or a nonprofit organization.
Vietnamese proverb has a saying, which I would translate into English as ‘One day of travel teaches one a bucket of wisdom.’ For the last four days, my eyes and ears opened all they could to absorb information from this vigorous environment. I think I have fallen in love with KL, especially with the women in KL. However, one female classmate told me, ‘Phoenix – you seem like you can easily fall in love everywhere!’ Maybe that is true, maybe I easily fall in love with places that have such diverse, high tolerant, peaceful, and friendly people like KL.
Good-bye Kuala Lumpur, and I will surely come back.
October 1, 2009
Saigon, Vietnam
Coming to KL for a four day MBTI certification program, it has been an exceptional experience for me to sit among the classmates including Thai women, Muslim Malay women, Muslim Malay men, and Chinese Singaporean women. The learning I got from our Indian look, British named, Malay born, and Singapore resident facilitator is equal to that from my classmates. We discussed, laughed, asked questions, argued, agreed, and teased each other continuously. I have never experienced such level of comfort in a new group that quickly before, including in Vietnam, my motherland.
In our group, people speak English with various accents, yet nobody doubts each other’s intellectual ability. The women in traditional Malay dress and turban are as outspoken are the men, if not more. I feel empowered just by looking at them and hearing them express their ideas and opinion in such confidence. When the exam time comes, it was fun to see everyone giggled and whispered as if we were in high school time again.
Four days have come to an end, and I feel as if I am leaving my comrades behind. I truly believe that these classmates would go back to their organizations and make their working environment a better place regardless the fact that it is a huge hierarchical corporate, the Ministry of Education, or a nonprofit organization.
Vietnamese proverb has a saying, which I would translate into English as ‘One day of travel teaches one a bucket of wisdom.’ For the last four days, my eyes and ears opened all they could to absorb information from this vigorous environment. I think I have fallen in love with KL, especially with the women in KL. However, one female classmate told me, ‘Phoenix – you seem like you can easily fall in love everywhere!’ Maybe that is true, maybe I easily fall in love with places that have such diverse, high tolerant, peaceful, and friendly people like KL.
Good-bye Kuala Lumpur, and I will surely come back.
October 1, 2009
Saigon, Vietnam
Sharing from Vietnam - The Beauty of Teaching
This morning was the last meeting of my first class at RMIT, teaching Work Place Preparation course to students who are preparing for their internship before graduating from the university. I used the last hour for closing ceremony, when we sat in circle to share our thoughts, learning, and emotions to each other about the last eleven weeks we spent together. One student turned off the light, and the candle was passed from one student to the next in warm atmosphere.
Moment like this reinforced my passion in teaching, where I could see the immediate impact I left on my students. Students shared about how much they enjoyed my daily theatre exercises for ice breaker, how friendly and comfortable they felt in this class, how much learning they got from their classmates, and the growth that they have acquired in just eleven weeks. I looked around the fresh, young, energetic, thoughtful, and beautiful faces around me, and I knew why God brought me to this place in this work at this time.
And when they took turn to thank themselves, their friends, and me, inside I was grateful to mentors who helped to shape me. Brother Phong, who always made his workshop fun by personal sharing. Victoria Rue, who taught me that theatre was the best way to bring out the positive side of a human being. Diane Tillman, who taught me that the best way to teach is to live your living values in the classroom. Karen Anton, who showed me that by respecting and caring for others, I would receive the same thing in return. And many others who had left many lessons in my life that helped me to be an effective teacher today.
Since the day I worked in RMIT VIetnam, I started to see my dream career rolling out in front of me. The last twelve years of painful exploring, searching, and redefining prepared me for this new role very well. Without them I do not think I could fulfill my tasks in such a confident and effective manner.
I love my work, and I wish that many people can say the same thing about theirs. There are moments when the politics in my workplace scared the heck out of me, dampened my enthusiasm, and caused me to doubt about my abilities. And then when I saw the sparkles of understanding in my students' eyes, their enlightened face after a counseling session, all the obstacles seemed so small compared to the joy they brought to my life.
September 8, 2009
Saigon, Vietnam
Moment like this reinforced my passion in teaching, where I could see the immediate impact I left on my students. Students shared about how much they enjoyed my daily theatre exercises for ice breaker, how friendly and comfortable they felt in this class, how much learning they got from their classmates, and the growth that they have acquired in just eleven weeks. I looked around the fresh, young, energetic, thoughtful, and beautiful faces around me, and I knew why God brought me to this place in this work at this time.
And when they took turn to thank themselves, their friends, and me, inside I was grateful to mentors who helped to shape me. Brother Phong, who always made his workshop fun by personal sharing. Victoria Rue, who taught me that theatre was the best way to bring out the positive side of a human being. Diane Tillman, who taught me that the best way to teach is to live your living values in the classroom. Karen Anton, who showed me that by respecting and caring for others, I would receive the same thing in return. And many others who had left many lessons in my life that helped me to be an effective teacher today.
Since the day I worked in RMIT VIetnam, I started to see my dream career rolling out in front of me. The last twelve years of painful exploring, searching, and redefining prepared me for this new role very well. Without them I do not think I could fulfill my tasks in such a confident and effective manner.
I love my work, and I wish that many people can say the same thing about theirs. There are moments when the politics in my workplace scared the heck out of me, dampened my enthusiasm, and caused me to doubt about my abilities. And then when I saw the sparkles of understanding in my students' eyes, their enlightened face after a counseling session, all the obstacles seemed so small compared to the joy they brought to my life.
September 8, 2009
Saigon, Vietnam
Sharing from Vietnam - The Weird Things
I remember in the first ESL class with Gail at West Valley College we talked about different adjectives. When I insisted that 'weird' is a positive one, she did not disregard my opinion and wrote it under the positive column.
First thing, I was admitted to the ER of the French Viet Hospital because of stomach problem. I had unbearable pains for more than one week, so I finally gave up and seek for help. The following day I went in for a follow up appointment with a French doctor, who asked some short routine questions about where I came from, my employment status, my family life, etc. Then suddenly he glared at me and asked, 'Phoenix - Do you know who you are?' My reaction at the moment was 'What in the world is this doctor talking about?' I have been spending the last 12 years searching for my identity and thought that I was pretty good at knowing who I was. Now this French, robust, funny looking guy asked me this question. I was too tired to give him my Masters' Final Paper Speech. Yet after about five minutes listening to his speech, I was somewhat convinced by him that there was nothing wrong with my stomach or the digestive system. He referred me for endoscopy just to ease my fear, but his philosophy was that I was my own problem. Before I left, he gently told me 'Don't worry about being American; don't worry about being Vietnamese; just be Phoenix, eh.' I was very polite but honestly I just wanted to shout, 'Give me some medication - the pain is real.' Now three weeks have passed, the results came back, and I have not even the smallest problem with either my stomach or the colon. Oh, French doctors!!! I love them so.
We talked so much about culture shock in social studies, communication studies, cross cultural studies, but the reality of it is scary for me. After the honeymoon period, I felt like I was attacked from all directions, and it was so difficult to hang on to my core. I thought of quitting my job, returning to the US, going back to my previous safe and supportive environment. It was like hell. And, on top of that was being a mom, a daughter in law, a wife, a teacher, and a friend. I had no time for myself. Talking about self-caring in the field of counseling. I have been hunting yet couldn't find any qualified therapist. The only one I like I prefer him to stay a friend, so I am not going to break the relationship by becoming his client. During this time, one comment from my previous mentor, Dianne, rang in my ears, 'Perseverance, Phoenix, perseverance. You learned the most from experiences like that.' Yes, I have learned so much in the last four weeks.
The good news, to me, is that we will have a new female leader in July, yeah!!! Let's see how things turn out under her leadership. (Oops, I cannot help but show my feminism.)
The Vietnamese people are so sensitive. The older, the poorer, the male are the more sensitive persons. So I just generously smile to them, treat them with great respect, and expect a stare for reaction but learn not to be offended. A smile wins everything! Do not depend on the excellent customer service in this country. I am treated nicely only when I earn it - through being respectful, friendly but not to invasive. (That means a smile without direct eye contact - just like Princess Diana's smile. Oh please don't laugh - I am speaking the truth).
Ok, I guess this is it for this report. Ah, one more thing, for some reason Mother's Day was adopted as a holiday in Vietnam but not the Father's Day, so I forgot to send the fathers in my family and circle of friends the greetings. Shame on me! Happy belated Father's Day to you, my friends.
June 23, 2010
Saigon, Vietnam
First thing, I was admitted to the ER of the French Viet Hospital because of stomach problem. I had unbearable pains for more than one week, so I finally gave up and seek for help. The following day I went in for a follow up appointment with a French doctor, who asked some short routine questions about where I came from, my employment status, my family life, etc. Then suddenly he glared at me and asked, 'Phoenix - Do you know who you are?' My reaction at the moment was 'What in the world is this doctor talking about?' I have been spending the last 12 years searching for my identity and thought that I was pretty good at knowing who I was. Now this French, robust, funny looking guy asked me this question. I was too tired to give him my Masters' Final Paper Speech. Yet after about five minutes listening to his speech, I was somewhat convinced by him that there was nothing wrong with my stomach or the digestive system. He referred me for endoscopy just to ease my fear, but his philosophy was that I was my own problem. Before I left, he gently told me 'Don't worry about being American; don't worry about being Vietnamese; just be Phoenix, eh.' I was very polite but honestly I just wanted to shout, 'Give me some medication - the pain is real.' Now three weeks have passed, the results came back, and I have not even the smallest problem with either my stomach or the colon. Oh, French doctors!!! I love them so.
We talked so much about culture shock in social studies, communication studies, cross cultural studies, but the reality of it is scary for me. After the honeymoon period, I felt like I was attacked from all directions, and it was so difficult to hang on to my core. I thought of quitting my job, returning to the US, going back to my previous safe and supportive environment. It was like hell. And, on top of that was being a mom, a daughter in law, a wife, a teacher, and a friend. I had no time for myself. Talking about self-caring in the field of counseling. I have been hunting yet couldn't find any qualified therapist. The only one I like I prefer him to stay a friend, so I am not going to break the relationship by becoming his client. During this time, one comment from my previous mentor, Dianne, rang in my ears, 'Perseverance, Phoenix, perseverance. You learned the most from experiences like that.' Yes, I have learned so much in the last four weeks.
The good news, to me, is that we will have a new female leader in July, yeah!!! Let's see how things turn out under her leadership. (Oops, I cannot help but show my feminism.)
The Vietnamese people are so sensitive. The older, the poorer, the male are the more sensitive persons. So I just generously smile to them, treat them with great respect, and expect a stare for reaction but learn not to be offended. A smile wins everything! Do not depend on the excellent customer service in this country. I am treated nicely only when I earn it - through being respectful, friendly but not to invasive. (That means a smile without direct eye contact - just like Princess Diana's smile. Oh please don't laugh - I am speaking the truth).
Ok, I guess this is it for this report. Ah, one more thing, for some reason Mother's Day was adopted as a holiday in Vietnam but not the Father's Day, so I forgot to send the fathers in my family and circle of friends the greetings. Shame on me! Happy belated Father's Day to you, my friends.
June 23, 2010
Saigon, Vietnam
Sharing from Vietnam – The Big Things
I started the first career development workshop series with the RMIT students. The series' topics include interests, strength, and values and their relevance to an individual's career decision. I got 6 participants for the first day, 15 for the second, and expect about 15 for the last one which is tomorrow afternoon.
The students were very polite, respectful, active, and motivated. They were a little bit scared by my facilitating style, which uses a lot of theatre techniques that I learned from years of participation in the Viet Cali Theatre Group. Thanks to Victoria for her great advice, 'Theatre works everywhere, Phoenix.' Yet I could feel their presence in the room, their eagerness to learn more about themselves, and their desire to challenge everything I shared with them. It was great to see how their eyes sparkled with interest and respect when I did not take any of their challenges personally. The students confirmed my passion of teaching and knowledge transferring. They are so young and full of energy. I just love spending time with my students.
National Holidays are coming. In the US, the Viet Kieu community call this day 'The National Ashamed Day,' and in Vietnam everyone celebrates the 'National Freedom Day.' Four days weekend looks good, but it again reminds me of how torn a country could be as a result of a civil war. I bet the younger generation no longer remembers what the day represents; they just celebrate and have fun. The elder generation, both oversea and in Vietnam, I wonder how they feel.
Vietnam seems to celebrate all the US and other countries' big days. Advertisement everywhere reminds me of the Mother's Day coming up. I am glad that happens. Otherwise, mom will be upset if I don't shoot her an email on that day. Consumerism is big in Saigon city. Currency feels like monopoly money, so I must do the calculation in my head to convert Vietnam Dong to US dollar before making any spending decision.
It's almost 2 months in Vietnam. Ian turned two on Sunday. Seeing life through his eyes help me stay grounded and happy everyday. 'Mommy, it's raining. Mommy, wawa. Mommy, let's swim.' And, he speaks to his nanny in English then turns to mommy and speak Vietnamese. How amazing!
I miss California so much.
April 28, 2009
Saigon, Vietnam
The students were very polite, respectful, active, and motivated. They were a little bit scared by my facilitating style, which uses a lot of theatre techniques that I learned from years of participation in the Viet Cali Theatre Group. Thanks to Victoria for her great advice, 'Theatre works everywhere, Phoenix.' Yet I could feel their presence in the room, their eagerness to learn more about themselves, and their desire to challenge everything I shared with them. It was great to see how their eyes sparkled with interest and respect when I did not take any of their challenges personally. The students confirmed my passion of teaching and knowledge transferring. They are so young and full of energy. I just love spending time with my students.
National Holidays are coming. In the US, the Viet Kieu community call this day 'The National Ashamed Day,' and in Vietnam everyone celebrates the 'National Freedom Day.' Four days weekend looks good, but it again reminds me of how torn a country could be as a result of a civil war. I bet the younger generation no longer remembers what the day represents; they just celebrate and have fun. The elder generation, both oversea and in Vietnam, I wonder how they feel.
Vietnam seems to celebrate all the US and other countries' big days. Advertisement everywhere reminds me of the Mother's Day coming up. I am glad that happens. Otherwise, mom will be upset if I don't shoot her an email on that day. Consumerism is big in Saigon city. Currency feels like monopoly money, so I must do the calculation in my head to convert Vietnam Dong to US dollar before making any spending decision.
It's almost 2 months in Vietnam. Ian turned two on Sunday. Seeing life through his eyes help me stay grounded and happy everyday. 'Mommy, it's raining. Mommy, wawa. Mommy, let's swim.' And, he speaks to his nanny in English then turns to mommy and speak Vietnamese. How amazing!
I miss California so much.
April 28, 2009
Saigon, Vietnam
Sharing from Vietnam - The Small Things
Life in Vietnam is unique because of the small things that happen daily.
This morning, the janitor lady asked me if 'Obama' was my husband. I have his plate/picture on my desk next to my PC. I told her, 'No, he is the President of America.' She said, 'Wow, he looks handsome, and how come he looks so Asian?' Cool reaction hah :)
I went out to eat lunch at the students' cafeteria, and this janitor man came to clear the plates away. I smiled to him, and he returned with a warm, welcome smile. Then when I said thank you in Vietnamese, he exclaimed, 'Oh, I thought you were Korean.' The next time we met, he did not return my smile. It seems like only Korean ladies deserve his smile. Too bad I am not one.
Last night I came down with Ian to let him run and play with the water after the rain. I saw a young boy who looked about 10 years old working as a tennis ball collector. I figured he worked for the tennis coach because I met them several times. The coach taught tennis, and the boy walked around collecting balls. I learned from the swimming guard that the boy was kicked out of school because he fought, and now he worked as a ball collector for about 30 USD/month. WHen the match ended, the big-belly coach walked out with empty hand, while the little boy carried the heavy bag of balls, the tennis rackets, and the chair. The guard exclaimed, 'Do you know that he is 15 years old. How could he grow if he carried that heavy backpack every day.' However, the guard did not come to offer to help with the chair, neither did I. I am very worried that eventually I will consider matters like these normal and looked with uninteresting eyes. I am extremely worried!
It is an art to know how to talk, interact, and request service in RMIT Vietnam. To the expat staff, I look Vietnamese. To the local staff, I am Viet Kieu (oversea). To the local people like bike keepers, xe om, I am Vietnamese. I must learn how to act intelligently and skillfully in each different situation in order to get the best result. Sometimes, I feel exhausted from the effort. But with time, I think my skills improve and I do it quite naturally. The challenge is to maintain who I am - you know, not becoming cynical, bitter, smart mouth, etc. I need to join a meditation group soon.
April 10. 2009
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