First Day Fears by Samantha Clements

 

Our first day of instruction in Ubud started with my worst fear – a trip to Monkey Forest. I have a very real, and very reasonable, fear of monkeys. I really did not want to come face to face with my fears. But alas, Professor Buske had scheduled a tour with the monkeys, and Buske gets what Buske wants. 

As soon as we walked in, I had the other students make a bubble around me, so that monkeys could reach out and touch them, but I was insulated. If I had to confront my fear, I’d do it as minimally as possible with my eyes to the ground and holding someone’s hand. I had no interest in being brave. I came to Bali to learn about children’s rights, not monkeys. 

We walked all through monkey forest, seeing families huddled together, young monkeys rough housing, and older monkeys feeding their young. The more I saw, the more comfortable I became. Not enough to look them in the eye or walk right up to them, but enough to not be in a total bubble. I could walk on my own and walk past the monkeys. I didn’t need to hold someone’s hand anymore. 

As we were walking to the exit, a baby monkey walked right up to me. I felt okay. I stood still, as instructed, and let it play with my skirt. It was little, cute, and curious about me. I would be okay with a baby monkey near me. That was until its mama jumped onto my shoulders. Yes, ONTO MY SHOULDERS. To say I was terrified was an understatement, I was petrified. A monkey was literally on my back. The mama monkey was protecting her young. By jumping on my back, she reminded me that this was her home and that was her baby. I held my breath and let her sit, and then she jumped away. 

I lived. My worst fear happened and I lived. 

After Monkey Forest, we headed to Sari Hati. An Indonesian school for children with physical and developmental disabilities. Sari Hati is an NGO that gets its funding from private donations. They have 78 students between the ages of six and fifty five, and have a waitlist of another thirty-five students. Through small classes, dance, and art, Sari Hati teaches their students how to eat on their own and to communicate their needs. They also educate the community about developmental disabilities. According to the program leader, many people in Bali believe that developmental disabilities come from black magic, a punishment from God, or that the disability is a transferable disease. 

At Sari Hati, those misconceptions are gone. The volunteers see these children through a lens of unconditional love. They seek to help all of their students lead normal lives and become fully functioning members of society. As one of the volunteers, Thony, explained, “education is to liberate human beings.” At Sari Hati, the students become integrated into their communities. The shame many families feel about their children is removed. Community engagement helps these students to flourish, to find themselves, to grow.  

We had the opportunity to interact with the students and join their dance and meditation class. These students were vibrant with joy, dancing and smiling the whole time.  One of them latched on to one of my colleague’s, Natalia’s, hands and did not let go. They were seen and celebrated, and what a wonderful experience to be a part of.  

Through both Monkey Forest and dancing with the students at Sari Hati, Thony’s words rang true. This educational experience was liberating. Through this class, I was able to face my fears and celebrate those around me.

 

It's December -- We're in Bali

 It's December 2025 and I'm in Bali with another fantastic group of students:  Kirby Nix, Alexa Bascon, Samantha Clements, Emery Greenwood, Kendrick Myers, and Natalia Gama-Gomez.  This year, we're spending two weeks on the island learning about Education in Indonesia generally, and Bali more specifically.  We're meeting with schools of all kinds, NGOs, and government officials.  We'll also be helping to build a school garden at a local primary school and taking in as much Balinese culture and food as possible.  We hope you'll follow along!   ~ Professor Buske

Days Nine & Ten: Final Days by Andrew Yuan

 

I'm sitting here in the Hoi An Historic Hotel lobby. Starting with Friday, December 20th, the programming had reached the in-country conclusion (with the exception of finals assignments, but more on that later). The majority of the day had been relatively uneventful. Many people spent time resting in their rooms or going on simple walks. A few people visited tailors in their downtime. I know I did.

Our group's activities truly picked up that evening around 7:15 P.M.. This time for dinner, we wandered the streets of Old Town Ha Noi. This dinner was spent eating street food from local vendors. Our selections included frog, octopus tentacle, chicken and vegetable kabobs, grilled rice paper (with toppings), mango ice cream, mango sticky rice, fried potatoes, grilled cheese, and corn.

To me this act was important. Not only was it amongst the last that we did as a group, but it held cultural weight in Vietnam. There are street food vendors all over Hoi An (and Saigon as well!), and was a method of earning income for many locals. From this angle it seemed fitting that we participate in this activity, at least in some capacity. We ended the evening by sitting riverside and enjoying one another's company.

The next morning, in my view, was another simple cultural activity. After our breakfast at the hotel we meet with a local tour guide who gave us each a set of keys to scooters. After a quick lesson, we rode the scooters from location to location. Riding the scooters, was a simple act. However, scooters are extremely prominent in Vietnam. By learning to ride, we participated in a significant cultural activity. An act similar in spirit to eating the street food the the night before.

The first stop was a small local Buddhist temple. The tour guides showed us statues of unicorns and pointed out the significant symbols of Yin & Yang which are important spiritual symbols in Vietnamese culture. We could not enter the temple because it was closed for visits during most of the year - it is typically only open during the Lunar New Year.

We stopped at a local shoe making factory which had to be located outside of Old Town due to the noise of the machines. They showed us the process of making shoes there, which was interestingly made from paper.

After this we enjoyed some Bahn Mi and a light refreshment, nearby the river, where we got to enjoy the view of the river and Old Town from a different angle.  From here the group traveled to see where the fishing boats of Hoi An were docked.  Interestingly, the boats were boarded by way of a type of dock called a 'monkey bridge'.  Interestingly the boats had eyes painted on them, this is important to note because it protected the fishermen and warded off bad spirits.

The group then traveled to see where rice paper was made.   A process using the sun, to form the paper, which is then cooked into rice crackers of noodles. From there, our guide showed us where local herbs were grown in the vegetable garden. This was an important stop because it displayed the production process of food that is widely consumed here in Hoi An.

We ended this 4-hour tour of Hoi An by stopping at a lantern production shop where lanterns are made. These lanterns are culturally significant here. They were brought by Chinese traders centuries ago and serve to protect the lantern owners from bad spirits.

We then returned to the hotel for a few more hours of downtime before our final group meal.  Professor Buske suggested the Tok Restaurant. Everyone got to pick a place to eat thus far, and this was hers. It is quietly situated outside of Old Town, and served wonderful dishes fitting for our final meal as a group. One that would not be in this capacity together again. This meal marked the end of our time in Hoi An, and the end of our time in Vietnam. With only our final reflections, our final exam, and the road home ahead of us. It was truly the end of our adventure.

 

Day Nine:Exploring Hoi An Old Town and Visiting NGOs by Emily Almeida

 

We were given some free time the morning of our first full day in Hoi An, Viet Nam, which was very appreciated by our group of weary travelers. Having the opportunity to sleep in after our early wakeup call the morning prior was much appreciated, especially considering the busy day that we all had ahead of us. 

As I’m sure you’ve noticed through reading the blog posts about this trip, goods and services in Viet Nam are a fraction of the price that they’d typically be in the United States. From teeth cleanings for the equivalent of $20 USD to meals for about $2, everything seems to cost less that it’d be back home. As soon-to-be lawyers, many of us had our interest piqued in tailoring services, specifically in order to have a tailored suit made. With a few recommendations in our hands from locals and other hotel guests, some of us spent our Thursday morning hitting the town with this goal in mind. 

I ended up at a tailor called ‘Blue Chic’ in Old Town, joined by Andrew Y., and I went through the process of picking fabrics for my suit while he inquired about having some bowties made. 

After ordering everything, we received instructions to return the next morning, and we began to walk around together, talking about anything that came to mind as we peered down rows of shops and enjoyed the cooler weather. 

We ended our time in the city that morning with a coffee stop, where our conversations continued, interrupted occasionally by merchants ducking into the shop to try and sell their wares to the patrons inside. 

One of my favorite parts of these trips has to be the bonds that are made between students, and the opportunities that we have to process different things that we’ve experienced in our conversations with each other. Andrew Y. started at Willamette Law a year after me, and though I didn’t know him too well prior to setting off on this adventure together, getting to know him and learn with him- as well as all of our other classmates- has been one of the highlights of this trip for me. Those little moments that we get to connect with one another are so appreciated, especially knowing that we’ll be working alongside many of our peers before we know it, and those connections truly make the learning we do on these trips all the more impactful. 

With the afternoon quickly approaching, Andrew and I returned to the hotel in order to meet up with the rest of our classmates. We took a twenty-minute walk in some light rain to Noodle House by Streets. Streets is an NGO that provides culinary and hospitality training to disadvantaged and vulnerable youth living in poverty. The training process is 14 months, and while students complete the program, they are also provided housing, a budget for living, healthcare, and life skills training.  

Streets offers a restaurant, called Noodle House, and a cooking class, called ‘Oodles of Noodles’, where some of the students of the program teach tourists how to make the different noodle dishes that they offer. We were a bit short on time on Thursday, so we opted to just grab lunch at the restaurant while we learned about the NGO. Our food was delicious and knowing that we were giving back to such a fantastic organization simply by having lunch made the experience all the better. 

After lunch, we ordered some Grabs (the equivalent of Uber or Lyft here) and drove a few miles away to visit CHiA, Children’s Hope in Action. CHiA is an NGO solely funded by private donors, and they are dedicated to improving the lives of economically disadvantaged children and families in Hoi An. They provide multiple programs to meet different needs, including funds for utilities, home building services, supplementary funds for educational expenses, and- what ended up being the focus our visit- physical and occupational therapy for disabled youth in the neighborhood. 

We learned that CHiA serves 12 children currently, all different ages and with different needs. We were joined multiple times by these children throughout our conversation with the Director of CHiA, and we all enjoyed the opportunity to multitask between speaking with the Director and playing with the kids. CHiA has over 20 children still on the waitlist to receive their disability-focused services, we learned, and over 60 on the waitlist to receive benefits from other programs. 

The Director explained that disabled children still face incredible bias from their communities here in Viet Nam. She told us the story of one of their kids who was outright denied the opportunity to play with another girl in her neighborhood by the girl’s parent. CHiA allows these kids to play with each other while experiencing occupational and physical therapy, and the Director informed us that the volunteers also bring their children in so that the kids have the opportunity to play with other children outside of the program. 

When we organized the visit to CHiA, we were informed of the importance of us visiting their facility in-person during their hours of operation for the children’s program. They explained that having visitors would draw attention to their organization from others on the street, would hopefully work to combat the explicit bias still present in their community, and would also contribute to the occupational goals of the children in the program. Having the opportunity to visit with CHiA and meet all the kids was so important, and something that many of us felt was one of the most impactful experiences of the trip. 

That evening, we all gathered in one of the hotel meeting spaces to discuss some of the things we had seen on the trip so far, and some of our thoughts about the different programs we learned about on Thursday, as well as how they help to combat the trafficking epidemic in this country. Our class discussions are always appreciated, as they give us the time and space to verbally process some of the ways that our learning has impacted us. 

Our night ended at a French Café in Old Town, where we all enjoyed some fantastic meals and time together. It’s hard to believe that our program is over halfway done, but I think I speak for everyone when I say that this experience has been absolutely unmatched and educational in ways that none of us could have ever imagined.

 

Day Eight: Giving It Back to the Kids by Andrew Stephens

 We all woke up early today to fly out of Saigon and headed to Hoi An. There is always something sad about waking up on your last day in a city you’ve visited for the first time. It’s also difficult to leave when you have had an amazing time. Everyone in the group was excited for the next leg of the trip, but Saigon is a special place, and we all made great memories while here. I could go on about the coffee, the food, the people, and the energy the city has. It was so unexpectedly wonderful and I can’t wait to come back.

The airport was hectic. More so than we were expecting for a domestic flight. Lines move slowly. Everyone is in a rush. But once we checked our bags and got through security, it was an easy flight to Hoi An. When we first stepped outside of the Hoi An airport, it was cooler and noticeably quieter than Saigon. In many ways it was a refreshing feeling after being in the city for a couple of weeks.

We loaded into the van and made a stop before going to our hotel at an NGO called Giving it Back to Kids. We met with the Vice President Tham (didn’t get her last name) to learn more about how they got started and what they do. You could tell she has given this talk before and had lots of good information about their operation. Giving it back to kids is a non-profit organization helping the families and children of Vietnam through nutrition, housing, medical care and education

Giving it Back to Kids founder, Robert Kalatschan, and his wife Dorothea were unable to have children. In their desire to start a family, they began investigating fertility treatments and meeting with doctors. They ended up going to Saigon with hopes of adopting a child and in that process ended up adopting their daughter. After returning to the United States, they couldn’t stop thinking about the other children they saw while they were there. They felt like there was a reason they came to Vietnam and that was the beginning of the non-profit.

Tham told us that people ask what they do. She said “they help kids. It’s that simple.” I have never seen an NGO like this before. They do a lot of everything. If a child needs a bike to get to school, they’ll provide it. If that same child needs something else years later, they’ll help accommodate that too. They are not one dimensional. They do outreach to rural Vietnamese people that are most vulnerable to human trafficking and forced labor. They work with disabled children and those that have been orphaned. It was refreshing to hear their story and what they do.

We ended up talking to her for about an hour. It was a great way to start our time in Hoi An, knowing that there are organizations and people here in Vietnam doing amazing work. Their administrative costs are less than 5% of their annual budget. It’s rare to find an organization that is legitimate and more than a feel-good operation and I was happy to know they’re out here doing good things in the world.

Day Seven: Coffee, Wagon Wheel and SOS Village by Tori Sparks

 Honestly, as silly as this may sound, when I found out that we were required to write a blog post, I felt intimidated. It is a bit difficult for me to put an experience into words. I often feel that I am not vibrant enough in my writing to adequately describe the experience for a reader, let alone the energy and emotions that were felt during. I simply feel that I can’t do the moment justice. Grappling with that feeling is hard when the moment is a core memory or a crucial part of an overall journey. Nonetheless, I am excited to share my experience with you all. Come along for the journey. 

We started our day with the most important meal: coffee. While in Saigon – we were told by locals that many of them still refer to Ho Chi Minh City as Saigon – we had a centrally located hotel in the midst of a litany of businesses. One in particular caught our heart, stomach, and wallets. Nghe Coffee, which was ran by Manoel, quickly became a favorite. By the end of the trip, I am certain we tried every single thing that he had to offer. My personal favorite was either the egg coffee or the salt coffee. To be quite frank, I am terrified that I will never have a good cup of coffee again following this trip. When I say I could drink this stuff by the buckets, I am not exaggerating. 

This spot became ours. The hotel was about a 2–3-minute walk, depending on our confidence level when crossing the wonderfully chaotic street. Manoel would see us and instantly light up. He would yell out “my friends,” and wave at us enthusiastically. We all truly adored him, and I believe he adored us. His energy was inviting and felt genuine. The conversations had at our tables will forever be engrained in my mind and heart. A cup of coffee became much more meaningful. It was a place where we bonded, had deep conversations, shared our perspectives, experiences, and A LOT of laughter. If you ever find yourself in Saigon, go see our friend and try every single one of his coffee options. You will not regret it. 

Much to Professor Buske’s dismay, we found ourselves wanting to try Western food during our stay. While deciding lunch, we saw our opportunity and quickly went for it. We giddily walked to Wagon Wheel, which was a couple of blocks from our hotel. We were all very curious to try the food and experience Saigon’s take on our typical comfort food. Spoiler alert, it was delicious. Upon walking in, it was very western themed. Imagine a Cracker Barrel mixed with Texas Roadhouse, and you have Wagon Wheel. Modern country music was playing, and those old Coca-Cola signs were on the wall. I recall someone making the joke that we were transported back home upon entering the restaurant. 

The menu had the standard Western comfort foods. We, of course, ordered a round of onion rings and bacon balls for the table. When our waitress asked us what sauces we would like to dip our appetizers in, I do not think she expected our answer…. “All of them, please.” The first thing I noticed was the portion sizes. During our other dining experiences in Saigon, the portion sizes were moderate, but filling. It felt like just enough, but not too much or overly gluttonous. However, the burger that I ordered was the size of my head. This was a comfort stop for us. Speaking for myself, I started to feel homesick at this point of the trip. Not only homesick, but it was my turn to catch the bug that was being passed around our group. While this food was comforting, I will say that I much prefer the traditional dishes we were served at our other meal. I always felt a lot more energized and not… gross, following a traditional meal. As small as a dining experience may feel, I often thought about how I felt post-meal in Vietnam versus back home. Why do I always feel overly full after a meal back home? Why do I feel so sleepy after a meal back home? Why does the food back home not feel like I am fueling my body? Why did I not feel this way when I ate meals in Vietnam? It truly made me stop and consider what we put in our food back home and how it negatively impacts our overall health. I can go on a huge tangent about this topic in particular, but I have more things to write about! 

We had a small break between lunch and our planned site visit with SOS Village. I was really excited about this site visit, because I thought it was such a unique model, and I was looking forward to seeing the village and how it worked in-person. I was deeply moved by what I saw in the village. In my opinion, this organization is truly remarkable. Many people may not realize that the child welfare system in the United States often lacks consistency, leaving many children to fend for themselves once they age out of foster care. I can drone on about my thoughts and opinions on our system, however, that would quickly become a law review article. 

A bit of background on the organization: 

SOS was created after World War II by Hermann Gmeiner after noticing the significant number of children who lost their parental figures due to the war. Speculating, as I can’t say with 100% certainty, but Hermann must have witnessed a lot of first-hand accounts, as he was actually an Austrian soldier during this time. Nonetheless, he was moved and opened the first SOS Village in Imst. 

Today, SOS operates 17 villages across Vietnam, with many more around the world. The Saigon village is the largest in Vietnam, consisting of 20 homes, each led by a housemother who serves as the primary caregiver for 8 to 9 children. In addition to the housemothers, the children are also supported by “aunties” who help provide care and nurture. 

The village is home to two schools, and several SOS villages also include health centers. While this particular village did not have a health center, I think there was one in close proximity. The children not only live and learn here but are supported through their university education as well. Even after they grow up, they are always welcomed back into the community and encouraged to stay connected with their family. 

The village itself is absolutely beautiful, serene, and feels so warm. There are pathways lined with greenery and trees. It felt very peaceful walking throughout the village. We got plenty of waves and warm welcomes from the families that resided there. One family opened up their home to us and allowed us to come inside. It was full of books, photographs of the family, and genuine love. This home had a very small infant, and it was beautiful to see the older children taking care of their younger sibling. The bond the children had with each other and their mom was obvious and real. There is no other way to describe it other than the feeling of warmth and love. I am honestly getting emotional while writing this portion of the blog, because I can just feel it all over again. 

While we were there, we had the joy of meeting the children—who, though not pictured out of respect for their privacy, are bright, loving, and vibrant. We had a blast playing badminton, talking with them, taking photographs (at their request), and just learning more about their daily life. We were asked multiple times if we ate at Taco Bell, to which we responded “absolutely.” This one little boy in particular touched my heart. I think it is because he reminded me of my little brother. In the midst of the energy of the other children, he was very quiet and soft-spoken. At his request, I showed him pictures of my animals back home and we bonded over a shared love of cats. He told me all about his “fat and old cat,” whom he clearly loved. He was a very kind and thoughtful soul and truly touched my life. 

While touring, we learned that due to Vietnam reaching a certain status in regard to children being protected and being at a place where there is less of a risk, the organization is moving funding towards different countries that are considered to have a greater need. 

This decision has caused the village we visited to shut down some of the houses. In addition, there is also talk of the village actually shutting down in a few years. If this were to happen, SOS village would give the land back to the government, and the government would make the decision of what to do with the space and the children occupying the same. 

Of course, this prompted MANY questions. Where would the children go? Will they be able to stay with their families? Will they be separated? What will happen to the housemothers? None of these questions could be answered, and it left me feeling unsettled. The bond is so evident amongst these families, and it genuinely makes me incredibly emotional when I think about the fact that they could get separated and never see each other again. 

I truly hope there is some way to keep the children together. The SOS model fosters stability and creates a loving community that children statistically thrive in. They are supported, loved, nurtured, well-educated, and bright. What will happen to these children if that stability is taken away from them? Will it fundamentally change the trajectory of their life? I plan to keep up with SOS and hope that my questions will be answered in a positive way in the future. 

 

 

 

Day Six: Paint Stained Hands by Kylie Root

 

Today, we did the community service project. This was something that was very highly-anticipated by most everyone in the group. 

We did the service project for this organization called the Green Bamboo Children’s Center. After we learned about the work they did on day four, we understood the significance of the work we were to be doing. Our efforts on this day would be the beginnings of what would later become a room for children in an administrative building. The room would be used for classes for children in accordance with the services their administration offers. 

As soon as we got there, we got to work. The room in its organic state left a lot to be desired, but within an hour, we got almost the entire thing cleared out. The room was on the third floor, so many of us were exhausted, but we pushed through. It didn’t help that today felt like one of the hotter days, but that was perhaps due to the number of times we all went up and down those stairs. 

Once we got everything cleared out, some of us took a short water break, then we got back to work. We painted the window grates and had developed a well-oiled system between some of us where one team would go through with the initial coating, then another team would do the detailing. We got that done relatively quickly. All of us were covered near head-to-toe in paint that was extremely stubborn to get off. 

Finally, we sanded the walls and painted them with the first coat of primer. By this point, we were all absolutely exhausted, but we got the work done. By the time we had finished, we still had almost half a day to ourselves.

Once we finished, we got enough food to feed nearly a small army. I forget how many egg rolls I had but I know I inhaled them like a vacuum. I feel as though I can speak for most of the group with how absolutely starving we were afterwards. 

Although we did not get to see the entire room completed, we did a significant amount of work. Some people demolished cabinets, others moved them down the stairs, others swept, but we all contributed enough. We all had paint-stained hands by the end. 

Having even a small part in something to help make something better and increase accessibility to street children was really significant. Knowing that what we did will blossom into a room to help children in difficult circumstances meant a lot to myself, as well as many of my other colleagues. 

Once we were done, all of us took a much-needed shower and prepared for dinner after a long day of hard work.