Other states, other lives, other souls

by Phil Deering

This is chapter three of a three-part post.

In Chapter 1, I told the story of a 2007 trek during which I encountered a one-room school in the highlands of the north of Vietnam. When I learned the school had been destroyed in a landslide I decided to raise the money and ensure it would be used for a new school.

In Chapter 2 I told how, once we had raised the money, we ran into difficulties with Vietnamese authorities, who seemed to be blocking our efforts to build a school. That episode ended with a wild end-of-year party with teachers in a remote village.

Chapter 3 

2008 was an amazing year. By the end Obama was elected president and the world-wide economy was in free-fall.

For me, it got worse in 2009. A week after Obama’s inauguration the three owners of the small firm I worked for came into my office looking grim. Profits were way down. They needed to save money, and so I was fired. Easy for them, tough on me.

The first couple of months were awful; I pursued jobs fulltime: “networking” and “having coffee”. Everyone was friendly, and they offered plenty of advice, but no jobs. Caffeine anxiety and gut burn were the new norm.

By late spring, I realized we weren’t going to go broke (Carol was still working, and the unemployment benefit checks made a big difference). I flipped my mindset: To hell with being unemployed…I was on sabbatical!  A perfect sabbatical project would be to complete the school in Vietnam.

So much to do: raise more money, become an official non-profit, get NGO (Non-Governmental Organization – an international name for non-profit) status so the Vietnamese government would allow us to do a project in their country, and, most important, learn from others about how to do it right. Pro tip: when working in a foreign country, find people who have tried a similar thing and talk to them.

The NGO thing was a complex maze. After a bunch of flailing about, I hooked up with the Sunflower Mission, founded by Vietnamese who had prospered in the US and dedicated to building schools. They’d never done a project in the North, but they were willing to serve as my fiscal agent and provide the paperwork required by the Vietnamese government.

Most important, I met Chuck Theusch, a guy who served as a GI in Vietnam. Chuck built an amazing organization named Children’s Library International. Children’s Library helped Vietnam War veterans to return to Vietnam and to build projects (libraries, schools, even parts of hospitals) in the provinces where they had served. Great therapy for PTSD and soul fuel of anyone who has lived through a war. More than anyone, Chuck helped me realize the project.

Slowly all the pieces fell into place. We had the money, the backing, the paperwork. But one more thing was still missing: a local official who would accept the project.

In around late November Carol and I met up in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon).  Quick aside. This was my first time in this sprawling, over-stimulated, historic city. (Over 10 million people, and seemingly twice as many motorbikes.) All my previous trips were to the North and all previous experiences were with friendly, honest people. Now I’m not saying the HCMC folks all bad, but Carol and I were both ripped off by cab drivers, the shoe-shine boys were beyond obnoxious, and the number of “massage parlors” screamed exploitation. However, if you were to go, the War Museum and the Cu chi Tunnels are must-see. Also for folks who are of a “certain age”, cocktails at the Rex Hotel (famous for the Five O’clock Follies) provides a glimpse of a past of war correspondents, CIA spies and corrupt US and ARVN generals. Aside: If you think lying to the public started with Trump, check out the history of the Five O’clock Follies.

After some great adventures with Carol, I ended up on the night train to Lao Cai. (Hokie video here.) Just in case you believe the video’s romantic sheen, you should know that my partner in this project, Elizabeth, once found herself in a four-bed compartment with two prostitutes who were planning on turning the Night Train into the Blow-Job Express. After a lot of shouting and fighting over the door lock, they left to pursue business elsewhere.

This trip was less dramatic. I was accompanied by one of Chuck Theusch’s team, a super competent young woman named Le Nguyen, who served as translator, fixer, and fearless motorbike driver. She would have personally kicked the asses of any miscreants who got near our compartment.

From left, Thanh, Le, Chuck and a teacher from Nam Det.

Our guide and Vietnamese partner, Thanh, met us at the station with good news. He had a “wink and nod” agreement with a party official from a commune named Song Hai to allow us to build a new school.

The next day, Thanh showed up at my hotel and we took off for the market. We needed a gift for the party official. The proper gift required great discretion; one that was too gaudy or expensive would indicate we thought he was corrupt, but one too cheap would signal disrespect. Thanh settled on a tea set that cost about $45 and we headed off on the back of his motorbike.

This guy was friendly and a bit (to my mind) quirky. Behind his house he showed us a shed with caged SE Asian porcupines. Wow! Who knew?

Read about these creatures here.

These creatures are considered delicacies by the Hill Tribe people but were illegal to hunt. But it’s legal to farm them, I guess…

The school project was fine with him. However, his condition was that there could be no “U.S. money”. The way around it was for me to give the money to Thanh, and Thanh would pay for the school.

So here was my dilemma; the deal sounded fishy, but I trusted Thanh. Should I go for it, or was this some complex scheme to defraud us and all our donors? I consulted with Le. She thought it made sense. “If you trust Thanh, you have to go for it. I’ll help you draw up the contracts.”

The three days were a blur of writing contracts, translating back and forth between Vietnamese and English, and emailing back and forth to Sunflower Mission folks, who had to agree to release the money. Other complications included restrictions on wiring more than $10,000 to Vietnam (money laundering/terrorist fighting regulations). Looking back, I’m amazed it all got done. Thanks again to Le Nguyen and Tran Chi Thanh and to Sunflower Mission folks who all brought skills required to navigate bureaucracies, both US and Vietnamese.

The project was to replace a kindergarten that was in a shabby old hut. Also, this schoolhouse was located just above a big fish pond. Parents were afraid kids would slip into the pond and drown, so many kept them home.

There were all sorts of side agreements. The village donated the land and the local Dept. of Education signed documents agreeing to provide teachers, desks, etc. When everything was in place I met once more with the party official, exchanged documents and shook hands.

 

From here on, things got fun. The day the construction began started with a shaman blessing the project (and me).This video gives you a taste of what it was like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8I6eFK-1yB8

 

Then the teachers burned fake money for good luck:

Then everyone headed off for a banquet. By the way, in addition to fresh goat in fresh goat blood, there was porcupine on the menu. I had no idea who most of the people were, and of course I paid the bill. More than $150, which was huge for that time and place. However, if it bought good will, so much the better!

One of Thanh’s eight older brothers (of course) had a construction company. This bugged me (nepotism!). Le told me, “No that’s the way we do it in Vietnam. Thanh trusts his brother so he’s the best person to do the job.”

 

Every day either Thanh or Le would pick me up from my hotel in Lao Cai. I’d hang on the back of a motorbike for the harrowing one-hour ride to the village. Le, a city girl from Hanoi, would dress appropriately:

 

 

 

When I got to the site, I joined the grandmas and young moms, dogs and kids who would assemble to watch the goings-on (left). These two women (upper right) were the chairs of the Village Women’s Committee. They came every day to make sure everything was going well. The teachers also took a keen interest (lower right) and made sure the plans would meet the needs of the children.

I had to leave before it was completed. But I did get to see this much. Two school rooms, a bathroom with flush toilets and a kitchen.

And the kids were plenty happy.

In the end, I spent three years and more than $10K of my own money on this project which cost $18K. It’s a small thing, really, a kindergarten that serves about 30 kids a year. However, the project pushed me far out of my comfort zone and engaged my brain in solving many complex problems. Best of all it was good for my heart: when you are unemployed and worried about the future, a project like this is much better than Prozac.

One more thing: writing this makes me want to go back. Vietnam, December, 2018 anyone?