First and Last Impressions

Sapa, Vietnam, where street gangs of Black Hmong ladies in full tribal costume harangue you the moment you descend from the minibus at 7 AM. They are selling bracelets and purses, which is very much what you are wanting after a mostly sleepless night on a train and before you've had a coffee. They are just trying to make an honest buck and have benefited greatly from the tourist influx. Aside from the hard sell, Sapa is stunning country in northern Vietnam and any visit would not, in my mind, be complete without seeing those mountains. The mountains themselves are not massive, but they are unusual, as mountains go, very green and pointy. Plus the area is so different from the hustle and bustle of Hanoi and Saigon, making it well worth the trip. The trails are not great and if it rains, which it did when I was there, it is very slippery. But with the rains come moody low clouds and very pretty fog. And there is a crazy mud slide thing you must cross and you feel like you'll plunge any minute into the gorge below. Which you might. The overnight train to Lao Cai is an experience itself--you don't get much sleep, as the train is noisy and bumpy, but then you have three strangers sleeping in the same small cabin, so maybe for the best?

Anyway, that was the end of my time in Vietnam and I am currently in Siem Reap, Cambodia, home of the famous Angkor Wat. The Temples-they are lovely, impressive, and amazing achievements. But I am afraid-and I hate to say this-that I have discovered I am not really a temple kind of girl. I liked them very much, but was more enthralled by the elephants galloping by. But I will surely be back during my time here and maybe a temple or two at sunrise will change my mind. I may have sightseeing fatigue. The town of Siem Reap itself is worth several visits, as so many good restaurants and great people watching. Some odd slightly off-putting sights as well: One street performer had a stunt where he placed his child, a two year old or so, on his shoulders and the baby stood unsupported for about ten seconds. Then the man took up a collection for this "trick". Stuff like this bothers me, but things are that way here. I intend on being a patient observer, at least for the time being. Place your bets for how long that lasts.

Tomorrow to Phnom Penh. Home.

A Day in Hue (this rhymes)

I've spent the past few days in Hue. Hue is remarkably hot and the heat is not interrupted, as it is in Saigon, by welcome afternoon rains. Thankfully, the cyclo guys are never far away and always happy to see me, as I think I overpay every time. In terms of sightseeing, while my guidebook touted the restaurants and history, the most interesting thing I saw was an outdoor market I discovered by chance when I got lost my first day. It is near or on An Duong Vuong, in the opposite direction from the Perfume River. Ladies selling every kind of fish, vegetable, and meat, all in the open air. While I think it spurred me to become a vegetarian while over here, it is how people grocery shop when there is no Tescos or Fresh Fields. These photos are the ladies at the market. They seemed flattered and mostly happy to have their photos taken, though a couple ladies wanted a dollar and one rather aggressively wanted my water bottle.

Perfume River

In Saigon, there is an art to crossing the streets, of walking slowly and deliberately, and not panicking at the sight of dozens of oncoming motorbikes bearing down on you. I had to watch people before I tried it myself. The key is not to run, the bikes go around you. But yesterday, I took a break from walking and instead toured the city's museums in a cyclo, similar to the one pictured here. My driver stayed awake most of the time, unlike this guy (that is not me). My driver's name was Nam. Aside from the guy in the photo, everyone here is very busy, making, cooking, or selling something. Or driving around on their motorbikes. My Mekong River tour guide explained that without a motorbike, you don't have much of a life in Saigon. 8 million people, 4 million motorbikes. And counting.

Today I am in Hue, which is a different world from Saigon. Sitting next to me on the plane here was a Vietnamese woman, Mrs. Tran, who was going home to visit her 89 year old mother. It's a small world, as Mrs. Tran lives in Leesburg, VA and has for the past 18 years. We had a nice chat, she works as a cashier in the Giant, she was tired as had been on the phone til 3 AM talking to her husband's sister. She got kind of teary eyed as we landed in Hue. I don't think she'd been home for three years and she had lost her husband in the meantime. She explained that last time she visited, he did all the work and she just did what he said. But this time, she is having to do everything herself and she is working very hard. Nice lady, Mrs. Tran. I hope she has a good visit.

Room in my heart

Contemplating my grown-up gap year in December 2008, I knew I wanted to do several things: Study a language, travel, and "give back", in some yet to be determined manner. Language study was easily sorted, as the options are endless, a trek in the Nepalese Himalaya took care of the travel bit, but the giving back required more careful thought. I wanted to do something meaningful but was not sure what.

I know people give back in many ways: Volunteer, donate money, clothes, etc. Some can create foundations, like Bill Gates; others give in more individual and emotionally enduring ways. I have a friend who many years ago adopted a failure to thrive little girl. One day over lunch, he explained to me why he and his wife had decided to do this. Both were a bit older, already had children by previous marriages, so there was no pressing need to adopt. But as he explained to me, after he learned about this little girl, he and his wife felt strongly: "We had room in our home for her...and room in our hearts."

Room in our hearts. That phrase has reverberated in me for years. How do we know if we have sufficient room in our hearts for something as hard as raising a troubled child? Caring for a sick parent? Easing someone's pain? Perhaps the oft-quoted, tired, but still relevant Beatles song: "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make" provides some guidance? Or maybe we can't know for sure. But we move forward and do our best.

As a start, a year ago, I volunteered for a charity in the UK, a woman's shelter that was in need of help getting its business in order. The program used a team-based approach, where I was teamed with three other business professionals assigned to this charity. This approach worked well, as everyone brought something different to the table. It was a great experience: I learned a bit about how charities run in the UK, I met other like-minded business people giving their time and expertise, and I helped (I think) the charity tackle some strategy challenges. Also, this was clearly the right direction for me.

So back to the question of how to give back during this time away from work? I knew I enjoyed helping charities in need of business skills but lacking funds to hire expensive consultants. As the time approached when I needed to commit to a volunteer project, serendipity led me to Cambodia. At the time I was merely gathering information, surfing the web researching my options, talking to different people, when the perfect opportunity landed in my lap. And, no fool, I took it.

And so has begun an extensive study of a country about which before I knew very little (sadly, as Cambodia is often eclipsed by its neighbor Vietnam in the minds of many Americans). And so too has begun a mental preparation for several months living in Phnom Penh, helping an organization that aids young girls, kids really, to leave the brothels and start better lives. I leave in two weeks, am ready to go, have already packed to within an inch of my life--my North Face bag is bursting at the seams. But there is plenty of room in my heart.