Early Adventures by Francisco Luzania

 [This year, some students travelled to Vietnam when they finished exams and were able to join me in Saigon for a few days before the beginning of the program.  ~ buske]

Another international children's rights study abroad program. Another multiple day of travel itineraries to our destination. Another chance to see this great wide world that we live in from another perspective, immersed in another culture. At some point one would think that the novelty of traveling to new places on the planet would lessen or, at the very least, become less impactful. But right at the outset of my third ICR program, I can attest that could not be further from the truth. Of all the countries that I have visited, I think Vietnam is the one country that I thought I was the most prepared for. Every American is at least somewhat familiar with the nearly 30-year conflict here that spanned across five American presidents. The effects of America's involvement in Vietnam are still felt in our own country, and in Vietnam itself, decades after the last US helicopter left Saigon. Yet here I am with a group of aspiring attorneys, and a Professor to gain a deeper and more meaningful understanding of the plight of children in Vietnam.  

After nearly a full day of flights and transfers, finally landing in Ho Chi Minh City airport was about as anticlimactic as one can imagine. My first interaction with this country was with the dreaded symbol of government bureaucracy: lines. Going through customs in Vietnam was  one of those experiences that reminds you that, regardless of where you are in the world, humans and processes don't really change. It took an exorbitant amount of time to pass through customs, but once I did, I located our driver and headed to the hotel. After a full night's rest, I hit the ground running and took on the streets of Saigon. Indiscriminately walking in different directions, up alleys, down side streets, and across parks; I did everything I could on my first day to immerse myself. With a newly purchased baseball cap, my headphones, and a pre-selected playlist, I walked blocks to see this new environment that myself and the other students would be in for the next few weeks. In doing so, I made my first observation about this very busy country. And by busy, I mean busy. Everywhere I went, even for the people that weren't necessarily doing any sort of recognizable work, nobody was idle. The city and its people were constantly in motion. Everybody was doing something with intent, everybody was going somewhere with a purpose, and everything was moving in a symmetrical, but chaotic fashion. The thought and prospect of having to drive in a city such as this is daunting. But as a pedestrian who is able to observe as a simple foreigner, it was like watching an orchestra of chaos, beautiful and chaotic.  

While I was walking, I stumbled upon a tour center that offered a litany of different options to explore Vietnamese culture and the surrounding region. Being an ardent fan of history, I decided to do a tour of the Viet Cong tunnels that had existed during the Vietnam War. The price was a bargain, and the purpose was profound. We can read dozens of books about the conflict that many of our countrymen, and even more Vietnamese, fought and died in, but having the opportunity to see the conflict area was something that I could not pass up. So, as the only American on our tour, I began the two hour bus ride journey to the Chu Chi tunnel system. On the way there, our tour guide, a young Vietnamese girl who said her grandfather was a loyal Vietcong fighter, gave us a very in-depth perspective on what the conflict looked like from the eyes of the Vietnamese people. This is when I got my first dose of reality: in this country, it is not known as the Vietnam War, but the War of American Aggression. For the next two hours our tour guide gave us both personal and national stories about the toll that the war had on the country and its people. I learned how the United States military purposefully bombed and poisoned rice paddies. I learned how Vietnamese people built tunnels underneath their own homes to protect themselves from napalm bombs, and I heard how the end of the war was not the beginning of tranquility in this country, but the beginning of a period of resilience Vietnam continues to display. That America left behind scars, a shattered government, and a broken populace is well known. But learning that we also left behind the conditions created for famine and economic despair, incited feelings of sorrow and shame in me. Story after story was told about the atrocities committed by the combatants against each other and against civilians. This made me as an American slink down in my chair and pull the brim of my hat just a little bit lower. For all the extraordinary qualities that the United States of America has, we still engaged in some incredibly dark moments and actions in the goal of “freedom”.

 

Finally, arriving at the tunnel system, my feelings of reflection did not change, but they did amplify. For the next two hours we searched huts, walked through tunnels, watched traps being used in the way that they were intended. The next two hours were up close and personal lessons on how the Vietnamese people defended themselves against foreign incursions. Once again, as an American, I felt a striking sadness for the people of Vietnam, who fought for their homeland, and for the young men of the United States military, who faced these conditions. Bamboo traps that were poisoned, trap doors with bombs, and extensive tunnel systems with sniper holes created an environment of absolute horror for all those involved in the conflict. This lesson in history was one of the most beneficial things I think I could've done upon arriving in Vietnam. Again, we Americans are so privileged in that we can simply read about history, but other people  experienced the trials and tribulations first hand.  But something will always stick with me as I was going to the tour was that the workers and the tour guide did not have any sense of anger or resentment; instead, they had was a sense of national pride and joy in showing people from all over the world how the Vietnamese people fight against empires from far-reaching places. There was a feeling of resilience to everything that they were saying, a feeling of pride, and how they spoke about the conflict and their country today, and, most surprising to me, a ton of appreciation for those of us who would take time to come see firsthand what it took for the people of Vietnam to fight for their freedom. 

 

On the two-hour trip back to the city, I stared out the window, looking at the streets and watching the people.  I had the same feeling that I had at the start of the tour. The people of this country have pride. The people of this country have purpose. Even those people who are toiling around the streets seem to be walking and doing things with the same intent as the most active shopkeepers. In this country there does not seem to be any desire to be idle. There does not seem to be a desire to remain in the past.  There does not seem to be a feeling of resentment or regret. There only seems to be a feeling of excitement for building a bigger and better society. And engaging with the rest of the  world on the terms of the Vietnamese people. Something that I think they had always wanted, but foreign powers refuse to accept. As we in the program start barreling towards our academic curriculum while in the country, I am incredibly grateful to have done this tour on in my first day in Vietnam. Going into this tour, with a sense of not trying to justify the events of the past, but understanding them, and using them as a building block in my understanding of this complex country is something that I think will serve me greatly. Never has my perspective been changed so much from what I’ve read to what I’ve seen.  I really look forward to growing my appreciation for the Vietnamese people, and the plight of all those who still feel the reverberating consequences of the war of foreign aggression. So here I am on my third ICR program ready to continue to immerse myself and see how people from across the planet address the same issues that the men, women and children of my country, the United States of America, address the issues of human rights.