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A Waiting Game.

A Waiting Game.

Stephanie Morrow, World Traveler…well not yet…it is more like Stephanie Morrow, American Mid-West Traveler; BUT that title is too long so I am going to stick with the first.

I have spent the majority of my life in the mid-west region of the United States, living in a secure Kansas City suburb.  Most of my preteen travels included vacations to Colorado and Iowa to visit the grandparents and to partake in many family bonding activities.  In my teen years, I began to branch out to the far ends of our country, California and Washington D.C. to name a few, for mission experiences. As college approached, I boldly chose what very few choose to do from my high school and that was to go out of state for Undergraduate school.  So, my recent college years have involved bus, plane, and train rides from Chicago to Kansas City and back again; wherever I could find the cheapest deal.

On August 23rd, 2012 I will begin the international chapter in my life and ignite my Fall 2012 semester in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.  Many inquiring minds have asked, “Why Vietnam?”  I just tell them, “Why not!” or if it is a close friend or relative I say sarcastically with confidence, “Because I CAN!”  But in reality I was encouraged by a high school teacher (Mr. Gatewood I hope you are reading this) to go ANYWHERE in your undergraduate experience if you get the opportunity.  This is my opportunity and I have very few expectations.

I know when my plane takes off and lands.  I know what classes I will take.  I know where I will be living.  I can look at other student photos and imagine the surroundings.  I know I will become accustomed to the cockroaches (thanks Anthony for the heads up).  But, as I know all of these things I really have no idea how I will feel or react to a drastically different environment and culture.  I am anxious and excited and COMPLETELY freaked out.

The game of waiting has begun.  It is the slowest game I have ever played.

Stephanie

The Night Before…

The Night Before…

I am packing.  I despise packing, but i guess the fact that i’m packing for something awesome makes it okay.  I’ve always been a notorious over-packer, and so packing light for China (and traveling once i’m China) has proven to be somewhat of a struggle.  okay, that was a lie.  it’s been a huge struggle, and the fact that i’ve left most of my packing to the day before doesn’t make it really any better.  I’m quite sure i’m going to forget something, but at this point, worrying probably won’t make anything better.  Not that that will stop me…

I have a 13 hour flight which leaves tomorrow at 1pm and lands in China at 3pm the next day.  Beijing (and all of China, since they only have one official time zone) is 13 hours ahead of us, so i suppose it all makes sense.  This is the airport (of which i haven’t seen yet…but i’ll take some pictures of it with my camera when i’m there):

Look at all the pretty lights!!!

And that airport looks pretty freaking cool.  I’m excited to be landing in it soon.  This program i’m going with (ChinaGreen) is on it’s maiden voyage!  not that it’s a ship.  or a boat.  or a plane.  but you get my gist, no?  It’ll be cool to see all the sites and meet all the people and eat ALL the food.  I still don’t know exactly who i’m going with, since i think i’m the only one from LUC, but i’ll be fun to meet my classmates.  although, if they get in the way of me and my food, my opinion of them might go down.

just saying.

Okay, i really must needs return to finishing packing and getting myself together for my imminent departure!  I just wanted to test out this blogging site and stuff before i find myself back in the motherland (of sorts).

See ya’ll on the flip side.

平安!

Hit the Ground Running

Hit the Ground Running

After a good night sleep post 3 5 hour energy drinks (and others…) and 20 hours of continual flight across the world wide awake, I was ready to hit the ground running in Vietnam! I woke my roommate and we ventured out of the dorm into the streets. The night before they had been dormant with almost nothing but our little taxi, but now there was a bustle reminiscent of the Indian roads that I loved sans camels, donkeys, and little green auto rickshaws. However like India there were definitely lots of little mopeds, bicycles, and motorcycles. Differing from India was the large amount of cars, especially nice new cars. There were cars every once in a while in India, but here the streets are clogged with brand new sedans, lots of taxis, and an excess of black S class Mercedes. I’ve seen five brand new Bentleys and on our first night on the town a tough white Ferrari prowled by followed by a silver Bentley. This blew my mind, especially after Fr. Julio told me that cars here are taxed between 70-100% to support the communist party. Wow. Take that Ferrari and double the price. There a definitely some high rollers here in Vietnam.
What surprised me is that these cars are not driven by communist party card holders (otherwise the license plate would be blue) or by white expatriate investors who seem to be abounding here, but are rather driven by Vietnamese citizens, most of whom are entrepreneurs who have made successful businesses after the country opened up the economy and loosened it from centralized government control. YAY CAPITALISM! While on the subject of cars, there are lots of Mercedes buses around here that seem to hold a special cargo: Nuns. I’ve seen so many vans full of nuns. It makes me smile to see so many little nuns being shuttled around first class. I live by two convents, so that might be why… Also, unlike the huge trucks that I saw in India that were monolithic transporters, the little Toyotas here could probably fit inside the minivan my family owns volume wise. They are quite a sight to see.
To finish my little tangent on cars- there is quite the variety here. I can be walking on the street to Loyola’s office and be passed by Bentleys, BMWs, Mercedes, strange three wheeled contraptions (opposite of India, because here the third wheel is in the back), old woman in conical palm hats on bicycles, nun vans, every strata of society on mopeds, and even Buddhist monks whizzing by on their dinky old motorcycles with robes flying in the air. If cars in Vietnam interest you, I suggest you check out my buddy Robby DeGraff’s blog. He has a special section on cars in Vietnam, and he’ll be a good resource. His area of expertise is in cars whereas mine is religion, so check it out!

http://www.robbyaroundtheworld.com/

Anyway back to my story. So we crossed the street, which is a little adventure here in itself. In America if you tried to cross the street with oncoming traffic you would be pulverized. In India you had to time your crossing between the spurts of animals and vehicles jostling for control of the road. In Vietnam if there a no heavy cars coming which you usually have to wait for and the road is full of just motorbikes, you can take the Moses approach and part the Red Sea. I can cross and a path will pop up. Motorbikes and cars if they come will swerve around me like water moving in a clear path. It is simply amazing. At first it was kind of intimidating but now I can do it in confidence, but my iPod definitely stays off during crossing. A phenomena of Vietnam is that motorbikes like to take shortcuts on the sidewalks during rush hour and that even though there may be four lanes clearly marked, these can be arbitrary and as before, water finds a path and motorbikes go anywhere there is an open path. So you have to be constantly aware of your surroundings during those busy times of the day.
For example once I was crossing a street and had looked both ways. I was good and began to walk because the cars coming from the left had stopped and were waving me on. I began to cross when a motorbike turned a corner (going the wrong way) and clipped my arm. I yelled out and looked up in surprise. The bike sat three teenage girls and they all said ‘sorry sorry sorry’ with worried expressions and continued swerving between cars still going the wrong way. I was not expecting anything to come around the corner which was supposed to be empty because the cars on the other side of me had stopped. But hey its not as bad as the Forth of July this past summer when a car in India hit me and knocked me over. I actually probably did more damage to the car than it did to me, but that’s an entirely different story and I have to get back to my story of the first morning that I keep veering from!
So we crossed the street and headed down a few back alleys filled with small vendors and little children playing. My roommate Nghiem decided on a little restaurant and we sat down to eat. I looked around and saw a Christmas tree in the back adorned with tinsel and a bright yellow star on top. There was also a large red banner reading Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! A third interesting thing was a large mother of pearl looking Icon of the Madonna and Christ Child prominently displayed behind the register and gazing out lovingly over the dining area. This restaurant was one of the many Catholic establishments in the city. Being about 10 percent of Vietnam as a whole, Catholics form a large minority in Ho Chi Minh/Saigon itself and their presence is definitely felt.
I didn’t know what to order so my roommate ordered a simple noodle dish for me and I attempted to use chopsticks. It was quite funny, even for myself. I have rapidly improved in my short time here and hope to be a chopstick master by the time I’m back stateside. The food was delicious and as I digested then, I’ll let you do so now… with my blog. I’ve thrown a lot at you, and before I go into my day proper I think I’ll let you mull over what I’ve written. It’s a lot and I apologize, but there is just so much to say. More soon!

Namashkar,

Jimmy

Xin Jao! Hello from Viet Nam!

Xin Jao! Hello from Viet Nam!

Xin Jao!

Greetings from Vietnam! So here are some interesting things about my trip so far (for the day I’ve been here). The country of Vietnam is SO CLEAN! When I left Indira Gandhi International in New Delhi this past summer, I was met with the stench of stale urine and auto exhaust thick enough to be soup and confronted with masses of people lying in the street dead, dying, somewhere in-between… Here, I was met with a warm blast of beach air and lots of people on mopeds…. and CARS! There are so many cars. Also nice cars too. If I had a dollar for every sleek black Mercedes I saw, we’ll lets just say I could get three meals a day from that here in Vietnam. Compared to India where there were no cars and a lot of rikshas, bikes, mopeds, donkeys, and camels. I keep comparing little things between our culture, India, and Vietnam. Like India, it is impolite to point fingers at someone, so to call someone you put your hand out flat palm down and pump your fingers toward yourself. However unlike India where smiling at people can be a very forward gesture, in Vietnam it is a great way to say hello, and lots of people have been smiling at me. So that’s good.

I met a few interesting characters on my connection flights to Ho Chi Minh. At the Chicago aiport, an asian guy who I presumed to be Chinese was sitting next to me. He looked at my hoodie and said, “Go Ramblers!”. I smiled and asked if he was a graduate, to which he responded yes. So I found a fellow rambler for my flight, even though he was an alum of several years. We were talking about the school and he also introduced me to his wife and son, Martin, who had gone to get food. It turned out he was not Chinese, but Filipino and was heading to Manila through Hong Kong.

It was also here that I met Vi, who was actually Vietnamese and had been staying in the US for some time to visit her boyfriend. She said, “When you are close to someone you love, your mouth gets tired from talking. When you live far away from someone, your legs get tired from walking. I would rather my legs get tired than my mouth. ” I thought that was very clever. Vi then went on to teach me some Vietnamese, Xin Jao (Hello) and several other words. She said my pronunciation was very good for a white person and asked if I had ever been to Asia before. I replied that I had been to India and see smiled and said, ‘very funny, Indians are not REALLY Asian’. Vi and I played with Martin, the 9 month old baby until our plane pulled up to the gate, a giant white and blue 747. This was my first time on a 747 as I had flow on Airbus to India. This Jet felt truly epic. After waiting for some time we boarded and I said bye to Vi who was seated farther up than me.

It was then that I met KiKi, a 36 year old merchant who devided her time between Hong Kong and China town in Chicago. She was really friendly and we talked a lot about the differences between Asia and the US. We even shared a bottle of Jack Daniel’s which I found appropriate because I had just listened to Kesha’s Tik Tok on the in-flight radio which mentions that brand. After a few rounds I was nice and toasty and snuggled in my blanket as we crossed through Siberia and we watched the movie Charlie Saint Cloud which was really cool because a Saint Jude medal plays a prominent role in the film (I wear a Saint Jude medal). Pretty cool.
Before getting off the jet, KiKi told me that she spent her youth working hard to make money to pay for school and come to America and while she doesn’t regret the success she has now, she sometimes wishes for her youth back, so she told me to tone down my hectic life a little and just live it up. I plan to do that in Vietnam.

I got off in Hong Kong to leave the Jet, go through security, and get back on the same Jet in pretty much the same seat. I was not too happy about being frisked by Chinese security because I wasn’t even going into China, I wasn’t even changing aircraft! Hong Kong at night was really pretty though. The lights of islands made little orange rings, and there were lots of freighters and smaller boats milling about. It was just like in the movie. There were also seven really bright almost crystal looking towers by the airport. It was breathtaking.

After Hong Kong we flew over the South China Sea for some time and what I saw reminded me of Genesis. Just Ocean, black sky, and clouds swirling over the water like the mist mentioned in the Bible before the creation story. I felt very awed and humbled at the same time.
On our arrival in Saigon, the city from above looked like a computer chip, if the lights were green I seriousy could have mistaken the city for an oversized motherboard. Closer to the airport, a large array of bright blue lights appeared all over the ground, a blue light similar to the towers in Hong Kong. It looked almost like pale snow flakes of LED Christmas lights. The sight filled me with mirth and I couldn’t help but smile. On a side note, while all of this looked amazing, I dont think any of it compares to the Hindu Kush (which is Persian for Hindu slayer) mountains dividing India, Pakistan, and Afghanistan. Those were simply breath taking! Now back to the airport…

I reconnected with Vi and I waited for her baggage because she was all by herself and most people had gone. When she finally got her bags she offered me her number, which I was about to ask because she had already been a great help. She reached in her wallet and I thought she was grabbing some loose paper but instead pulled out a business card. It turns out Vi owns the largest driving range in Saigon. Score, or should I say Fore?! (That joke was for you Dad). She said stop by whenever because the range includes a top notch restaurant. I think I’ll be taking her up on her offer soon.

I passed through customs which equaled putting my bag on a screening desk. They didn’t even check the screen, nor was I pat down! I just walked though into Vietnam! If I was to smuggle goods into any country, it would be Vietnam! (totally kidding, but really)

There were hundreds of people waiting with signs just outside of the airport with signs waiting for family. It is interesting to think that lots of them are waiting for expat Viet people who came to the US as boat people and are now returning to Vietnam to see their family after so many years. Pulls at your heart a little bit. I saw people running to the crowd and crying. Very powerful. I actually met a guy on the plane who flew sorties for the Americans during the war and had to flee during the fall of Saigon. He was wearing a baseball hat with a bald eagle and an American flag. I told him I liked the hat a lot and he told me the story of how the eagle is so important to him because he was a pilot. I’m wondering how many veterans I’m going to meet during my trip. My roomate said that in a few weeks that he will take me to his mountain village for Tet, the Viet/Chinese New Year. (Yes there wil be a giant paper dragon and lots of noodles). He said I will be the first white person to visit since the ‘Great American War’, which is the local name for the Vietnam war. Quite the honor? I’m not sure what I should do… just be myself I guess.

He also said that nobody speaks English, which is no different from here in Saigon where the only English I’ve heard is ‘motorbike?’ ‘thank you’ and ‘have nice day ok?’. I’m trying to pick up Vietnamese but the tone are throwing me through a loop. Makes me miss Hindi. At least they use the Latin alphabet.
Speaking of my roomate, I found him in the crowd thanks to his distinctive oval glasses and we got in a taxi to our dorm. His English is great, so I feel a bit guilty for not learning Vietnamese in advance. Oh well! On our arrival the driver got out and put his hand very close to me and said, “You give me tip now!” I was really tired, and if I hadn’t just flown 20 hours I could have said piss off you got your fare, but I remembered my friends denying a tip at a mosque in India and being chased by a mob, so I got out a few dollars and my best glare and cussed the guy out in Hindi since he knew English fairly well. Now that I’m somewhat rested and have my barings, my money is staying in my wallet.

This is a lot and I haven’t even got to my first (and now second, 3rd, 4th, etc) day in Vietnam. Gosh I am always playing catch up! So take care of yourself and look forward to my next email where I discover the American Embassy, the largest church ever built in the French Colonial Empire (named Notre Dame of course), get to know my roomate, run into my program director on a moped, eat my first mystery meat at a food stand which I’m really hoping wasn’t dog, and test out the hospital due to a nasty little viral infection. So in the meanwhile when you are shoveling snow up in Chi, think of me on the beach with a bunch of Viet friends drinking a mango shake and eating all the fried shrimp (wrapped in bacon which is absolutely amazing) I can get my hands on. Cheers!

Namashkar,

Jimmy