Last Thanksgiving I was in Kampala, Uganda, trying to hang on to the last days of my HNGR internship before Mother Africa whispered it was time to go home. If I knew then that before a year passed I would be in Viet Nam, I think I might have hid myself away somewhere deep in the African bush. But here I am in another capital city and on this Thanksgiving find myself grateful for many things:
1) Host Family. While our communication is limited to my stuttering Vietnamese, I always look forward to going home after a long day of work. My host mom has realized that I love orange juice, so when I got back late last night, there was a full cup of freshly-squeezed juice waiting for me. Host mom, I love you. Em Ngoc (younger sister, 15) is especially patient in helping me with language. Em Thuy (older sister, 19) is fluent in English and fun to talk with, but she's currently away at a training course.
2) Co-workers. Both at MCC and Action for the City, my co-workers have become good friends whom I can talk to about language, family, development work, and various cultural issues. The MCC reps, Lowell & Ruth, are open, hopitable, and encouraging. Brent, Rachel (fellow SALTers), and I have had many fun experiences together. :-)
3) Bamboo flute. I've been taking lessons every week on this traditional Vietnamese instrument and thoroughly enjoy both the lessons and the practicing. I have taken to practicing in what is the closest I could find to a conserv practice cubicle--the (toilet-less) bathroom next to my room. The acoustics are great and I can shut the door and just bury myself in the music. This may surprise some of you, but practicing here is a kind of therapy for me--it's the one time that I don't have to think about language, don't worry about offending people with some cultural faux pas, and actually have that rare, rare thing called Privacy. And I think the people who hear me enjoy that this foreigner is playing their traditional music.
4) Traffic. Biking to work and back home in crowded Hanoi traffic is one of the highlights of my day. I just love it when a motorbike cuts me off and gives me the opportunity to quicken my reflexes, or when a bus behind me blasts the horn for 10 seconds straight and lets me practice solfege using its pitch as the tonic, or when the motorbike in front of me puffs its exhaust straight into my face, or when my tire goes flat for the fourth time that day. But oh wait, this was supposed to be a post on giving thanks, not on sarcasm (well, the solfege part wasn't sarcasm, I really do that). So moving on...
5) Street life. Hanoi is one of those cities that is lived outside on the sidewalks and spills into the streets. While this makes bicycling through narrow alleys a maze between fruit stands, roasting beef, racks of scarves, and pigs feet taunting passerbys, it gives a certain dynamism that keeps life exciting. There's always something new to see! Just yesterday, I saw a motorbike carrying a cage with five large pigs stacked together. Not a bike I want to have an accident with...
6) You. Getting an email from a friend at home, hearing my cell phone ring in the middle of the night from those in far-flung time zones, or seeing a real letter in my box from my family totally makes my day. Thanks for keeping me connected.
I hope you also are finding much to give thanks for this day. Happy Thanksgiving!
22 November 2007
19 November 2007
on indigenous spirituality
I had the opportunity to travel to Medan, Indonesia last month for a conference on Indigenous Spirituality. Over 20 participants from around Asia gathered together to discuss spirituality, the environment, and conflict/peace issues from the perspective of indigenous communities. While there is much that I could write about my time there, let me share with you one story of the Chepang people of Nepal.
While there are about 60 indigenous people groups in Nepal, the Chepang are one of the most deprived and discriminated against. Traditionally, they lived nomadic lives deep in the jungle in central Nepal, sustained by the fruit of the land. As they say, "The jungle is our supermarket." They believe in supernatural powers that inhabit the forest and rivers, and worship at the base of old sacred trees as a symbol of God's power. They don't cut these old trees because that is their worship place. They live harmoniously with the earth--she sustains them and they respect her.
The Chepang believe that land is not an entity to be bought or sold, and because of this belief the government can easily give ownership of the land to outside groups without legal battles. In fact, 85% of Chepangs don't even have citizenship, so they have no way to defend themselves. The outsiders come in and cut the forest down for exporting profits. The natural rights of the Chepang are gradually stripped away as deforestation increases, as the rivers becomes too polluted to fish, and as construction constricts their nomadic lifestyle. The government has declared slash-and-burn agriculture illegal and the Chepang are blamed for destroying the forest, while this is how they have survived for years and it is the outside companies that are actually destroying the land. Essentially they have become displaced in their own homeland in the name of development.
This is the kind of story that we in the West rarely hear about. When you buy something that says, "Made in Nepal" or "Made in Vietnam," the stories behind that item are shut up. The tears of the people run dry and their weeping is silent. I wonder when the drive of consumerism will listen and feel? I wonder when development will be more than economics? There is certainly a deep richness in the lives and cultures of indigenous peoples.
While there are about 60 indigenous people groups in Nepal, the Chepang are one of the most deprived and discriminated against. Traditionally, they lived nomadic lives deep in the jungle in central Nepal, sustained by the fruit of the land. As they say, "The jungle is our supermarket." They believe in supernatural powers that inhabit the forest and rivers, and worship at the base of old sacred trees as a symbol of God's power. They don't cut these old trees because that is their worship place. They live harmoniously with the earth--she sustains them and they respect her.
The Chepang believe that land is not an entity to be bought or sold, and because of this belief the government can easily give ownership of the land to outside groups without legal battles. In fact, 85% of Chepangs don't even have citizenship, so they have no way to defend themselves. The outsiders come in and cut the forest down for exporting profits. The natural rights of the Chepang are gradually stripped away as deforestation increases, as the rivers becomes too polluted to fish, and as construction constricts their nomadic lifestyle. The government has declared slash-and-burn agriculture illegal and the Chepang are blamed for destroying the forest, while this is how they have survived for years and it is the outside companies that are actually destroying the land. Essentially they have become displaced in their own homeland in the name of development.
This is the kind of story that we in the West rarely hear about. When you buy something that says, "Made in Nepal" or "Made in Vietnam," the stories behind that item are shut up. The tears of the people run dry and their weeping is silent. I wonder when the drive of consumerism will listen and feel? I wonder when development will be more than economics? There is certainly a deep richness in the lives and cultures of indigenous peoples.
16 November 2007
"America America" Indian movie
Here's a video I got in Indonesia, made in India. I'm not (necessarily) posting it here to make some political commentary, but rather to show how some (many?) people view America.
09 November 2007
Tok Spanluvietish
So I've decided to invent a new language. It's called Tok Spanluvietish and includes a select mishmash of Tok Pisin, Spanish, Luganda, Vietnamese, and English. It goes something like this:
"Hola amigos, ogamba ki?"
"Chúng tôi khỏe. And you?"
"Mi amamas tru. Dispela tok está rât dẹp."
Tok Spanluvietish will come in very useful whenever I'm speaking to a group consisting of Papua New Guineans, Latinos, Ugandans, Vietnamese, and Americans. Too bad that will likely, um... never happen. hm. Instead it mostly confuses. The other day I was eating lunch (phỏ gà, mmm!) at a little restaurant near Hanoi University when I saw a girl pull out a Spanish dictionary. A Vietnamese learning Spanish! Super! We talked in a mix of Spanish, English, and Vietnamese, but then a Luganda word would pop out of my mouth and it was only her confused look that made me realize I was speaking another language. Thus the need to invent and promote Tok Spanluvietish. It may very well solve the world's problems by bringing people from multiple continents together. I think I'm on to something. '-)
(ps--more to come soon on my recent trip to Indonesia as well as pictures from October)
"Hola amigos, ogamba ki?"
"Chúng tôi khỏe. And you?"
"Mi amamas tru. Dispela tok está rât dẹp."
Tok Spanluvietish will come in very useful whenever I'm speaking to a group consisting of Papua New Guineans, Latinos, Ugandans, Vietnamese, and Americans. Too bad that will likely, um... never happen. hm. Instead it mostly confuses. The other day I was eating lunch (phỏ gà, mmm!) at a little restaurant near Hanoi University when I saw a girl pull out a Spanish dictionary. A Vietnamese learning Spanish! Super! We talked in a mix of Spanish, English, and Vietnamese, but then a Luganda word would pop out of my mouth and it was only her confused look that made me realize I was speaking another language. Thus the need to invent and promote Tok Spanluvietish. It may very well solve the world's problems by bringing people from multiple continents together. I think I'm on to something. '-)
(ps--more to come soon on my recent trip to Indonesia as well as pictures from October)
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