off to a wedding.

driving through rural vietnam early in the morning is something everyone should experience. the recently awakened sun reflects off pools of water between rows of rice and other vegetables. farmers are out in the fields with water buffalos, plows and hoes. women walk along streets with baskets balanced on bamboo poles and everything seems peaceful.

the road, on the other hand, is a nightmare. it is full of ruts and holes and bumps and ambling dogs. we were traveling to a wedding in a van. our driver was either racing to put out a fire or qualifying for some vietnamese version of nascar. he seemed to be an amiable fellow, it's just that none of us could really communicate with him.
the wedding was of one of alan and louise's former english students. (alan and louise are my country representatives, my bosses) this young vietnamese lady was marrying a handsome police officer and i was just full of excitement. or, maybe i was just anxious to leave the van.

after picking up some friends, we went directly to the home of the bride. it was decorated with a blue tent full of very small tables and very small chairs. people were everywhere. i had no idea what to expect seeing as how i had never experienced a vietnamese wedding and had not bothered to research it. when a group of americans and canadians walk into a wedding, relatively nicely dressed, they draw a crowd and a throng of stares. the heads of everyone gracefully and casually turn to gaze and the foreigners. i have never been stared at so much in my life. it’s unnerving. we were first ushered into a very nice room where we met everyone. i met a lot of people and have a terrible time remembering their names. i only shake their hand, smile and try to remember to look happy and content. we sat down and drank some green tea. whenever one visits anyone else and they bother to sit down, they are required receive green tea.

we were then herded into another room where there were tables full of food. oh, was i ever hungry and we ate and ate. there were succulent piles of pork, very small birds that were cut in half, piles of chicken and a plate full of very small eggs. i tried most everything, except for the eggs. they looked like they came directly from the nest of a sparrow. it was a strange meal for 10:00 in the morning.

we were then moved into the main tent area where we sat in the front row to watch the family of the groom enter. they file in together to collect the new couple. i had no idea what was happening. evidently, the bride and groom have a little party at the home of the bride and then are taken to the house of the groom for the final party. normally, the new couple, after saying all of the sacred vows and solemnly swearing not to part until they are torn from each other by death, moves into the house of the groom. this first party is, as it was explained to me, a kind of second birth for the bride. her family had to give her up. she was born once to her biological family and now will be born again to this new family. the mother and father of the bride must stay at their house while the rest of the party moves to the grooms house. hundreds of people left immediately from the bride's house. they left like there was something dangerous in the air. they ran out upon motorbikes and in vans happily following the new pair. the mother and father of the bride must remain defiant and stand strong in the threshold of their home. they must watch their daughter walk away into a new life. it's not the same as what our culture dictates.

we saw this happen. we decided it would be a good idea to say goodbye to the bride's family and tell them thanks for everything and congrats. we walked into the room and their faces were red and swollen. they were both walking around aimlessly. i could only imagine what was going through their heads. their little daughter being brought into this home for the first time. her playing around the front steps. running, yelling and laughing. her growing up and her questions. all the fun times they must have had together and all the difficult times. they had raised a successful daughter. now they were giving her up. i wanted to stand there and cry with them. the enormity of the event hit me like a wall of ice cold water.

we moved to the house of the groom. this was a much larger party than the first. there were tents and music and one guy that kept talking into a microphone. we all sat around very small tables eating pumpkin seeds and drinking green tea. now, this is another side of this whole event: i've never been asked so many times when i'm getting married and if, perchance, i would like to marry, say, this girl right over here. what on earth was happening. this was a cultural difference that no one had prepped me for. i sat at a table and the sister of the bride was placed (literally placed) next to me. we engaged in a terribly awkward conversation in terrible english and even worse vietnamese about the most insignificant things. then someone else on the other side of the table needed to know when i was getting married. on the drive over to the grooms house someone insisted that i sit next to them. another terribly awkward conversation. a guy gave me a bouquet of flowers. what on earth. i was told many times that i should have my wedding in the south and that maybe i would invite everyone there. it would be fun. one girl said, "i hope fate cross our path". i got the message. i don't do well with situations like that. i lock up and blush. smile.

then there was the actual party. there were people that sang. songs that were slow and too high and off pitch. the keyboard, all the time, playing a terribly corny backbeat. um-pa ta ta um-pa ta ta. all day long. we were told that we could take pictures of the bride and groom practicing a form of ancestral veneration. i quickly grabbed my camera and headed off to the upper room where the shrine was. most homes have shrines to ancestors. people place things on the shrine like incense, food and pictures. i asked someone what the couple was doing (it appeared they were praying with incense) and they said that they were basically telling the ancestors that they were getting married. interesting. while we were back there we were shown the room where the marriage would be consummated. it was a small dark room with a bed that took up 4/5ths of it. there was a mosquito netting that was tied up to look pretty and pillows with the bride and groom's names embroidered on them. at least i believe so. i didn't really get their names.

we finally left. breath. what an exhausting day. we drove home and ate and visited people on the way but none were as interesting as the wedding. what a mixture of emotions. what a different and fascinating culture.

tomorrow i go to ho chi minh city to start my language training. i need to understand the language to understand the culture more clearly. i'm sure this was full of misconceptions and poorly interpreted events. it is, truly, the world through my eyes.

nothing to report. just another day living in hanoi and getting ready to transition to ho chi minh city. tomorrow we go to a wedding in some rural province. it should be interesting and i should have much to report. today i spent floating around writing and reading. a day well spent.

it's very easy to pass people in the night. when it's a hot and muggy night in hanoi, it's very easy to pass people. the man about my age rooting through the garbage in the dimly lit street. the lady sitting on the street corner. the group of young boys walking together. the dog barking in the distance. a ten minute walk can seem like an eternity and every stare can seem threatening. walk quickly. sweat.

i tend to let my mind wander when i'm walking alone in the dark. especially in hanoi. i let my mind wander and every stare is taken into consideration. the motorcycles on the road become white noise and my steps all take a life of their own. one step to the left of that crack. one beyond that dirty puddle. now to turn right. that step was a little awkward. each step takes me closer to home but they each feel endless.

it's also too easy to not notice the beauty around me. the beauty in diversity and the beauty in the night. i could get lost in my steps but try not to let it happen. i try to look at the faces that i pass but they all stare dirrectly into my eyes. there's something difficult about making eye contact with a citizen of hanoi on a muggy, sweaty night. there's something wonderful in their eyes.

i guess i'm just getting used to traveling around this new culture. there's nothing much to be afraid of and maybe i just like the feeling of being out of control. i really love being here and a quick walk in the night does me a bit of good. a night walk in a dark part of town down musty alleys makes me think. it makes my mind wander.

just shut your eyes.

water puppets.

exactly what they sound like: puppets frolicking in the water. strange puppets with oddly wooden smirks on their pale faces dancing and splashing in the water. the puppets stand about 1.5 feet high and are from all different walks of life. there are waterbuffalo puppets, peasant puppets, king puppets, dragon puppets and, of course, the ubiquitous golden turtle (long life). tonight i had the pleasure of attending the thang long water puppet theater located on 57 dinh tien hang street in hanoi.

we entered the theater (me and some lutheran missionaries, long story, don't ask) and we were greeted by a large, murky pool. (the only time that americans sit in stadium seeting next to a large murky pool is at sea world) (i had my misconceptions) the band started to play in a very stoic fashion. the drummers were very serious and the beautiful women who played a variety of stringed instruments had concerned looks on their faces the whole time. no one seemed to be enjoying themselves. they appeared to be constantly solving some very intense logic problem. it was piercing and delicate. to be very culturally insensitive, the music sounded like i was at a chinese buffet. (how horrible!)

the puppets would appear and, to give a sense of the show, i will cite some of the movements from the program: catching frogs. on a buffalo with a flute. rearing ducks and catching foxes. triumphant return of a new graduate to his native village aim at expressing his gratitude to the ancestors. children playing in water. legend of the restored sword: king le loi after triumphing over invaders ming, gave the magic sword back to a giant turtle. fairy dancing. if you wish to use one video camera, please pay 50000 vnd (about 2.50usd).

i couldn't figure out why this was such an art form. sure, the puppets had to be engineered to look relatively lively in the water. sure, the music was wonderful and sure, there were some fireworks but what made this wonderful? why did people love it? i believe that it was just so culturally confusing that the foreign audience felt obligated to clap at all interludes. i wondered why the vietnamese liked it. i wondered what i could relate it to in my mennonite culture. i realized that there was nothing.

maybe i'm being too cynical. the puppets were wonderful. now, see, it doesn't even feel right to say! the puppets were interesting. now, i can honestly say that. they were interesting and confusing, delicate and piercing, ornate and simple. It, for me, is best described: "sea world meets confucianism".

"before he knew it, (mai van) on was in the water, clinging to a bamboo pole and paddling toward the injured pilot, who was tangled in, and weighted down by, his heavy gear and was in danger of drowning. (mai van) on, with several others, pulled (senator john) mccain to shore. an angry crowd poured out of the small brick homes... and beat mccain with rifle butts and dticks. 'please don't kill him,' (mai van) on pleaded with the mob. 'he is nearly dead already. we must turn him in.' the crowd backed away and the police arrived to cart mccain to prison, where he would spend five years as a pow." vietnam, now. david lamb.

today, i visited the infamous 'hanoi hilton'. i didn't know what to expect but felt uneasy and excited. i thought, because of my heritage, that it would be full of stories of downed american pilots. i imagined room after room of american pictures and vietnamese torture devices. these pilots were heroes. it turns out that the museum focused on the torture of vietnamese anti-colonialists at the hands of the french. every room displayed torture devices and starkly pale mannequins. the suffering was somehow fresh. suffering that furrows the brow and spoils the soul.

there was one picture that caught my attention, though. it was senator john mccain. he looked disgruntled, as only one could look after being shot down in enemy territory. now i had finally found the american suffering. the suffering for freedom and the blood shed for liberty. he did not look like the 'compassionate conservative' statesman we all know and love.

i returned home and flipped on cnn. there's something strange about living in hanoi and watching cnn and mtv. no matter where i go, i'm not out of the icy grasp of western culture. anyway, there was john mccain talking to lary king. what a day: hanoi, the hanoi hilton and john mccain. it turns out that he was hawking the war with iraq. now this put me over the edge. i thought that surly he, if anyone, would not be hawking a war to which there were obvious diplomatic solutions. surely he, who's life was saved by a vietnamese peasant, would want to find other solutions to these problems that did not involve more death. didn't he remember how it felt when his plane smashed into the lake? couldn't he feel the thick air and smell the smoke? didn't the safety harness dig into his ribs?

had he forgotten the death and pain that he witnessed? maybe he needs to visit hanoi again. maybe the flight over the city would trigger memories of bombs slowly gliding to their final resting place. maybe he needs to look a poor vietnamese woman in the eyes as she tries to sell him an apple. maybe he would remember. his life was spared because of the compassion of the weak. his life was spared. the least he could do is attempt to spare the lives of others. diplomacy is still a viable option.

i am confused. john mccain was shown ultimate grace and mercy. he suffered, undoubtedly, but was sparred. surely he must have learned about mercy, grace and peace. surely he must understand that there are other options.

"'what's done is done' (mai van) on said... 'i never hated americans, only the american government. but the war's past now. it belonged to my generation, not my sons'. i never regretted saving mr. mccain, though a lot of people wanted to kill your pilot that day.'"

compassion, grace and mercy.

what adventures have i had while you have been sleeping?


today we left early for some traveling in rural vietnam. we drove hours before finally arriving at the provincial capital where we had a meeting with the head of the investment and planning committee or department or something. we sat in this large room on large seats drinking bottled water and feeling important. we were just trying to find out how interested they were in further development of handi-crafts in some of these really rural areas. it was quite a lesson for me.

we left the huge office building. it was ornate. we headed towards the countryside where we were to meet with some local artisans. we met one in a run down row of houses. he was making some wonderful stone carvings. there were about 20 people running around and they all stopped to look. the next place we stopped was in a more rural area. we traveled about 1.5 hours over dirt roads, honking and swerving all the wile, until we arrived at the next stop. this was another group of stone cutters but there was something very different: they seemed wealthier. we stopped and had lunch which consisted of a bunch of plates placed in front of us and everyone diving for everything with chopsticks. i held my own and, while in mid chomp of some mystery meat, someone informed me that what i was eating was only pig stomach. it was cold and tough. hard to swallow. there's something about putting some animal's stomach in your own stomach that is unnerving. stomachs don't seem like they should be eaten. from vegetarian to rural vietnamese cold pig stomach tester. whew.

well, we finally determined that these other artisans were rather wealthy cause they owned the mining rights to a mountain. so much for helping the least of these. we left that town confused. everyone was still coming to the bazaar thought.

we also had to stop at a ceramics village while we were passing out these flyers. we visited some people's home and saw their work. it was truly incredible seeing where all this product comes from. they are just families with their own ideas and their own desires all working at making traditional art. we watched them and listened to their stories. one was about 4'10" and had funny facial hair and the other was skinny and wore the hugest square glasses that made him look like a comic book character.

the're also coming to the bazaar.

on the way home, we stopped at an 11th century buddhist temple. it had a tower in front of it that dated to the 12th century and was about 60 feet tall. it was refurbished but still displayed many original bricks. this is not a tourist attraction. it's in the middle of the rice paddy with no one around. we went in the temple and the old monk showed us around. our translator burned incense and prayed. i left money. my only gift. the gift of privilege. we left after all of these children were following me around laughing. there's something unnerving about having 8 middleschool kids following you on bikes giggling. just isn't right.

well, we got some people to come to this crazy bazaar, we talked to political leaders and we visited an 11th century buddhist temple. not bad for a day in hanoi. i could have done without the pig's stomach though.

buoi, buoi. buoi buoi.

if you say it with one intonation it means grapefruit. if you say it with another intonation, it means something that makes all the women blush and say "no, no, no!" make sure to say it with a downward accent. if you say it with the slightest upward accent it means something.

we have afternoon snacks here at the mcc house in hanoi. they consist mainly of grapefruit and apples with dipping salt. dipping salt? yes, dipping salt. this salt is just regular coarse salt with chopped up spicy red peppers. one must take the buoi (pronounced correctly...) and dip it into the spicy salt. then one must eat it. grapefruit with spicy salt. who would have ever thought. we were going about our buoi dipping and chatting when i picked up an apple slice (tao. say it with an upward accent and, to my best knowledge, as much as i butcher the pronunciation, it can't mean anything too terrible). i dipped the apple slice in the spicy salt. oh, no my naive american friend. the dipping salt, laced with enough spicy red peppers to kill a small phonician army, is only, and i repeat only, for the buoi. everyone laughs and i blush bright red. something like the women's faces earlier.

also, an important event takes place: one of the ladies, a miz ang, or something, peals an apple. she does it with the knife facing away from her body. for homework, i would like all of us to try to peal an apple with a knife and have the knife facing directly away from our bodies. it's impossible. oh, and the skin can't tear. it must be pealed away as to end up in one continuous piece. we would naturally peal it towards us. when we bring this to miz ang's attention, she says, politely, "no, no, that is dangerous!" so, i show them how it "is done" and they are all shocked. i even go on to split the apple with the knife cutting towards me. they are appalled! they go on to quarter the apple much more safely, with the knife slicing away from the body. go home and try it yourself. it's all a matter of perspective. it's all a matter of culture. it's beautiful.

what warmth the vietnamese have!

oh, to be in hanoi on a sunday morning. a sticky sunday morning riding along in a cab watching all the people move swiftly through the chaotic traffic. the looks on their faces, in my estimation, are a combination of callousness and innocence. the world through their eyes would be a mighty strange place. a place i would like to more fully understand.

we were going to church. this is the hanoi international church or something like that and it's located in one room at the bottom of some type of convention center. i didn't pay too much attention to where we were going. i was fascinated with the faces.

this church is lead by no one in particular to my best judgement. it is ecumenical and the service is made up of singing, reading of scripture and then the interpretation of scripture by some person. today we learned about fairness. what an interesting topic in church full of very wealthy foreigners in socialist vietnam. my mind was rarely at rest.

we left from there to have lunch. it was good and i began to notice that hanoi was less and less a dream. i'm beginning to become frustrated with the language but find it very difficult to learn it because i'm not completely immersed. there are too many english speakers around. it's difficult to learn anything without practical application. i'll have a much more rewarding time learning the langauge in ho chi minh city.

i was then left at the mcc house to go about my business for the afternoon. i spent that time reading, writing and reflecting. i am not busy enough to allow time to take hold of my life so it leads to a lot of time reflecting on the duration of my stay. two years is beginning to seem like a long time as much as i would convince myself otherwise. don't get me wrong, i'm very excited about spending this time here, it's just that not seeing certain people for two years will be very difficult. i will come to terms with it and if i don't, i'll lose some valuable time learning about the culture because of it. better to come to terms with it now.

tomorrow is full of nothing. i'm supposed to go out and buy a surge protector because my old one went up in smoke and i have a letter to send out. more time learning about the culture and figure out this confusing language.

good-bye all. do all things out of love. nothing out of fear. this is how we are taught to live.

i've been in hanoi for two days. it feels longer. the city is incredible.

we went around today and had coffee and met with some people that are working for other ngos. they were interesting but some of their stories seemed over-glorified. they talked of huge stacks of money and every other fact seemed a little to unbelievable.

we went from there to "watch street" cause i am in need of a watch. there were many different watch vendors and they all had something to say. i looked at acouple of watches and found one i really liked. i tried it on and found it to be much too small. i really feel like a giant in this land. at home i feel skinny, here i feel tall and fat. i finally found a watch that was suitable to all (the vendor thought a couple of the watches that i had picked out were too girly). it is a plain grey watch with the word cool! etched digitally above the time. it also has a light that lights up like a green butterfly when you need to read it in the dark. i talked to the vendor for a bit but find my vietnamese to be atrocious. i really am going to put a lot of effort into learning it. he wanted 150000 dong for it and i said "no, no, 100000 dong! he made a counter offer of 140000 dong and i finally gave up. not too persistent. that's only 9.50 for a watch with the words cool! on it and a glowing butterfly (still satisfies my girly side).

well, i must tell you all about my driving experiences. because i don't have a motorcycle and because the epps have their own cycle and it only fits two, i have to hire xe oms where iver i go. a xe om is a motorcycle for hire that will take you where you want to for a price. you must haggle beforehand. these people are not official employees but they do regularly sit at corners waiting for customers. you only ahve to say your street name and discuss a price. it's about 10000 dong for a ride from the mcc house to the center of hanoi, about a 15 minute drive. riding on the back of these things is incredible. the're only about 100-150cc and the traffic is crazy. there are really no lights and people are always merging. if you want to cross the road you must amble across (even on motorcycle) and everyone will move accordingly. there are no lanes. if there is room, pass (even if there isnt'). also, the horn is the choosen tool for distinguishing dirrection. if i think you're heading too close to me i beep. if i want you to go faster i beep. if anything appears to be wrong, beep. beep. all the beeps become white noise.

tommorrow i'm going to some x-pat church. it should be interesting. i leave at about 830am. mom and dad: you guys can call the mcc house whenever. it doesn't cost them a thing.

good bye and may we all experience and embrace the world for what it is. embrace it, but don't ignore it's problems.

hanoi, hanoi.

flying over northern vietnam was an experience in itself. the war was not my war. the vietnam i konw is a peaceful vietnam. still, flying over northern vietnam watching brown mud rivers snake and amble mindlessly through jungle and watching small village after village pass below i couldn't help thinking about being a b-52 pilot. the clouds bellow appeared as small puffs of smoke. i could imagine the bombs falling to the ground and impacting, slowly, growing larger and larger and engulfing more and more life. all for what.

so i landed. i recovered from my vietnam flash-back and moved on. i went through customs with out so much as a crooked glance and moved into the throng of people awaiting travelers. i found alan with a sign that said mcc vietnam. i was pretty sure it was him. we boarded a taxi and sped off into the traffic of hanoi towards mcc's home base.

traffic in vietnam is like nothing i've ever seen in my life. cyclos scoot past everything and the whole world is trying to get a couple of inches in front of someone else. there are few cars but there are enough to block large sections of travel. i will have to digest this situation and explain it in more depth later.

i spent the day at the mcc house and ambling around hanoi. this city is incredible. i don't quite know what to make of it all and i will need time to report on everything. right now i'm tired as anything. it's almost 800 at night, friday night, and i'm almost asleep. my eyes are heavy and my fingers are clumsy. i havn't slept well since last tuesday night. it's friday. i already said that.

well, i'm safe and sweating. i'm excited and tired. i also keep trying to speak spanish to these vietnamese people.

i'm still at the hong kong airport and i still have an hour untill i leave for hanoi.

time to describe this place:

i see newness and crazy designs everywhere. this building is designed to look as busy as possible. there are no squares or logical corners. there are only strange curves and diagonal lines that seem to have no function. the roof is huge and covered in odd triangles that make squares that are set against arching celings and windows. there is a large bay window segmented into very small windows all adding to the confusion. there are pictures and chinese characters everywhere. there are strange names too like super bbq and young boy sushi. outside there is a moutian now illuminated in the morning sun. the mist has lifted and it is the perfect backdrop for the huge planes that seem to be strewen about randomly like large play insects. people scurry around. some amble but all are moving. there is also light everywhere but in strange places. everything is designed to confuse the eye and befuddle the mind. my opinion of course. maybe i'm easily confused! i hear mumbling and carts rolling about. not much talking. sounds like a hospital. i smell nothing at all. i feel my weight pressing against my feet as i have to stand at this internet cafe. my legs are weighted due to long hours traveling. my hands are also weary. i feel tired. i feel emotionally drained after saying good bye to everyone. two years is a long time at moments. other times it feels like a brief moment.

what ever it is, i'm in a new place and as with all new places, some of it feels like a dream. i like to dream but it's also pleasant to experience reality.

well, at least i know i'm not at home anymore.

hong kong airport. what a crazy place. it's a little after six in the morning and i'm at a free internet cafe staring out of a huge bay window at some moutians. the sun has turned all the clouds pink and the air inside the building is cool and clean. i'm not from here but am doing my best to fit in.

the flight from philly to los angeles was 5.5 hours and the flight from la to hong kong was a dreary 14. on my first flight, i sat next to a classic california girl. she was about 50, wrinkles, fake-bake tan and lipstick that burned the eyes it was so bright. she talked to me and told me what a wonderful thing i was doing. she was one of those people that always finds a way to turn what the other person is saying around so that it focuses on them. for instance: "i studied international business" "oh, wow, my niece got her masters degree in international finance and now she works for disney and it's a great job. that's neat. my other nephew worked internationaly too" thanks. she also had a dog in a bag with her. it must have been pretty drugged up cause it didn't move for the whole flight. "oh, he loves to fly" i'm sure he does. who wouldn't like to be trapped in a small bag with airholes underneath of a seat for six hours?

the next flight pitted me next to a small lady who spoke no english. there is nothing to tell about her except she smiled and i smiled back and it was great.

this airport is incredible. there are signs everywhere telling everyone what they should and should not be doing. there is a fire exit sign with some chinese characters and a picture. i would have had no idea what it was except it is a picture of a man running with his hands above his head away from some flames. i couldn't stop laughing.

i'm off to hanoi in a couple of hours and i really don't have any idea what to expect. i go through stages: excited/hesitant/nervouse/normal/excited... i wonder what the future will hold. i wonder what i will learn. i wonder who i will meet.

enjoy the mystery of the world. it's a crazy place if you let it be.

i don't quite feel complete. i do feel ready.

this is my last possible entry from akron and tomorrow i leave for hanoi. i'm not really sure what to expect and i really don't know what i'm feeling. i'm awash with new sensations and responsibilities. it comes with growing up. at least that's what i've been told.

these two weeks have turned out to be very memorable weeks. i've met some incredible people and forged some friendships that will last for a very long time. at least i expect them to. i also spoke a lot of spanish here. translating for people and engaging the six or seven latin americans who didn't speak a work of english was difficult at times but it turned out to be a very rewarding experience. my language skills were reinforced and it didn't' take long for me to feel comfortable again. by the end, i felt like a very competent speaker.

i'm going home now. i don't really know how to feel about home, but i'm going anyway. i know that i love my family and that they love me no matter what i do. i also know that my home is very transient. living in southern vietnam for two years will be the longest that i will have been in one place for about five years. that will be an adjustment.

well, i'm sure this isn't my last entry before vietnam but the experience is truly coming to fruition. it feels much more real. i still remain free from any angst but i'm sure it will one day overwhelm me. i go abroad not knowing fully who i am or why i'm going. i know that this orientation process has given me more questions than answers. for that i'm grateful.

i stammer and ramble and don't make too much sense.

life in akron is one beautiful day after another. the sky has been blue and empty. this environment is beginning to feel somewhat like home but i know the feeling will be short-lived. it's Saturday and i fly out Wednesday night. it seems closer than it really is.

all of the people here are wonderful and i have nothing but positive things exude from my mind when i think of them. we are all colleagues. we are friends. we are all putting a part of ourselves here and then moving all around the world. there's something very comforting about knowing that there are others in my shoes.

well, today my parents are coming out here. my dad just got off the phone with me and he was already crying. i don't know if this will be difficult or hard. either way, it is necessary.

at akron sitting, sipping coffee:

yesterday we took our personality tests and i know everyone is dying to find out which box i fit into. initially, we all had to determine where we thought we fit. i thought i was right in the middle of the ex int scale leaning slightly more towards the extraverted side. i also thought that i was more intuitive then sensing. much more so. then i thought that i would be more thinking, much more thinking than feeling. finally, thought i was a perceiver. i wasn't really sure where i would fall completely but we did go through a thorough process in determining where we thought we would fall. it turned out that i was exactly right in the extravert/introvert part: slightly more extraverted, but not much. i'm also right in the middle of the intuitive/sensing part. exactly in the middle. it also said that i was more of a feeler than a thinker. this shocked me. i was pretty sure that i was much more analytical. finally, i was right in the middle of the perceiving/judging scale. it turns out that i'm pretty much in the middle of everything and that where i thought i would be and where i am is not at all the same. none of the descriptions were really accurate. it was pretty frustrating and i felt that the whole test was pretty hyped for nothing.

my time here has been really rewarding. there's another kid here who everyone confuses for me. i'm continually called will. (his name) and once, after i was given two tums by a lady named theresa, will was approached by her asking about his stomach. he was very confused and finally realized that she was looking for me.

what else. oh.

i went out to a vietnamese restaurant with jim amstutz. that's the closest that i've been to vietnam this whole time. it's pretty pathetiuc but that's not the point. we engaged in a lively discussion and ate with broad grins. finally, our fortune cookies came. konwing that they are not prophetic, i opened mine with much sarcasm. (i know what you're thinking dad, "jon, sarcastic?") it said "there is an immediate adventure in your future". i couldn't believe it. somehow god had entered my cookie and written my future on a piece of paper. i stammered and stuttered but finally showed jim. he was also impressed and i am now coinvinced that vietnam will be wonderful. what a wonderful dessert god we have.

i will leave you all now. do everything in love and remove fear from your decision making.

i have returned to akron pa for orientation.

today we resumed our normal schedule: devotions in the morning followed by a session regarding some topic that is evidently extremely interesting and important. today the interesting topic was gender. we reviewed case studies which i really don't find too helpful. case studies, to me, are mostly ways or reaffirming the fact that there are some instances in life that do not provide us with clear direction. i can see how they are helpful but i tend to become frustrated.

i'm also hobbling around on my ankle. i'm sure my mother would like to know if i'm ok so i'll tell her so. anything else would be silly for to make a mother worry for no specific reason is barbaric. this fact alone might make my mother worry so i must add the disclaimer "i'll of course tell you, mom, if it's really important". that makes it vague enough.

the next session is focusing on racism. this group does not appear to be a really racist group and i don't know where the leaders will take us. hopefully to some profound land where all the answers are sugar coated and all the questions are full of rhetoric. now is when my father would tell me not to be sarcastic. right.

well, thanks to all who have followed me on this journey to vietnam. i have not set foot in any plane and have not seen anything that has completely changed the way that i perceive the world. i'm in akron pa. this is the longest preparation for a trip ever. i wonder if it will be worth the wait.

never do anything out of fear.

i will eventually end up in a town called long xuyen after about two months of langauge training in ho chi minh city. i was reading in "the rough guide to vietnam" about long xuyen. "vietnamese towns don't come much duller than this..." and "hurry past long xuyen's unsightly market..." and "dominating the town is the spire of the ugly concrete cathedral... numerous tiny portals shed light on the anaemic interior, illuminating gilt stations of the cross..."

i'm still absurdly excited.

earlier, i spoke of ancestral veneration. today, i went to respect my dead relatives.

the day was perfect: blue sky that was flawless, parents that were happy and the sun warming everyone at once.

i took the picture of great aunt ella, sarah and mary's grave stone. it is a plane stone that looks unfinished. i didn't know mary but i have fond memories of ella and sarah. they were the most loving people that i have ever meet. ella was plump and happy. sarah was skinny and serious. they all lived beautifuly humble lives. the grass around the stone is tidy and stiff. i lowered myself to the ground to take the picture. my camera "ka-chunked" and i wound the film along. i moved to the right to take a picture of my great grandparents. my grandmother's parents. my father's mother's parents. i took another picture/ "ka-chunk" i asked dad if he could get in the next picture and he obliged. i decided that i would find a new, fresh angle to snap this picture and i balanced myslef on a sturdy gravestone about a foot and a half above the ground. i began to fall forward, slowly. i was focusing the camera. i landed hard and my ankel twisted and poped. the hole was right above where my great grandmother rests. the pain caused me to roll around on their gravesite yelling in frusteration. we have not venerated our ancestors at all and i konw nothing about the lives of my great grandparents on my father's side. i'm heading off to a new place and i'm not even sure what i'm leaving behind.

she really did hurt me though. i wonder if she meant it? do you think she's floating around and laughing, or crying? or ambivilant? or maybe she's not floating around, maybe she's reincarnated as a beautiful tree. or, do you think she might be a tomatoe plant? or maybe even a slimy frog? what if she's up in a pure white place with blonde streets and a icy blue sky. everyone is dressed in white and a white light explodes from their chests. maybe. what if she's trapped in the ground just listening to what's going on above her, muffled, through six feet of solid dirt? what if it's all bigger than i can possibly immagine. what if it's all for me. what if it's not. what if all she sees is nothing. she might just be in the void.

i konw that this ankle thing is not a big deal and that life moves on and that a million of people have had the same thoughts that i'm having but the pain is still real. the swelling is still there and i'm still immoble. right now, things are real. my reality is infinite and my experiences are fresh. i go forward as an emisary. i'm the product of my great grandparents and i respect that. i promise to learn more about them so as to not twist my ankle again.

do all things out of love.

hello.

i have returned home for the weekend because i haven’t finished packing and i haven’t finished saying goodbye to my parents. i'm not sure which will be harder. (i have a lot to pack)

my time in akron is really rewarding. the people there all have motivations that are similar to mine and that makes for some refreshing conversations. i'm meeting people there that i hope to be life-long friends with.

my grandparents came out to akron to pick me up and that was very nice. it is always good to touch bases with them. they are my foundation. the trunk of my family tree. in going to a country where ancestral veneration is the common practice, i tend to imagine what it would be like to venerate my ancestors. i wonder if i will return thinking that we do not know enough about our past. if we knew more about yesterday, we might make less mistakes tomorrow.

i will go now and leave the world alone. let it sleep and rest. let it grow.

i really should write something here.

i'm in akron pa for mcc orientation. they keep us very busy and the rest of the time is spent getting to know people that are just like you in many different ways. we're all brought here because of similar reasons.

we begin our day with devotions. that involves a lot of reflecting and thinking and feeling about what god means. passages and poems and prayres are all incorporated and the lady that leads it is very flexible. she is very inclusive and does not hold to any rigid definition of who or what god is. we have a fairly diverse definition of what god is among the group. i got into a discussion with some guy and he kept talking about the blood of christ, the suffering of chirst, the death, the suffering, the blood, the suffering and the blood. i find myself at quite a different place. i find myself working through a myriad of problems and understanding what god means to me in a number of different ways. initially, i learned, or rather, came to realize that the ways in which we all perceive god are very different. i have learned that this group of people, while they are similar, feel god in many different ways. in the end, devotions is much more rewarding that previously expected.

we then have someone speak. yesterday it was people speaking about the structure of mcc. it felt like i was really getting involved with an organization that has had much history and is well organized and not too centralized. the phrase mennonite central committee should be rephrased to mennonite decentralized committee. but then you would have to change all of the shirts and pot-holders. today we heard from mrs. amstutz (spelled horribly i believe). she talked about non-violent protest. she talked about peopel being non-violent warriors and fighting with non-violence. it's not about being passive but it's about activly engaging injustice and pushing it. violence says that we will make you suffer more than us and you will therefore cry "uncle" and we will have won. that is the basis of war. non-violent action is saying that we can suffer more than you and that your violent ways are not effective/affective at all.

the food is great. haha.

my roommate is a guy named lenny who is from cleveland. there goes dad's theory of it being the meat canner guy. (by the way, the meat canner drivers are a strange breed) lenny is going back to work with a community center of some sort. he's a really good guy. the way that mcc has their buildings set up is also incredible. the showers are just like a barn. there's no barrier between the shower and the bathroom floor. there is just a drain in the floor and a squeegee with which to move all of the water. the bathroom door is large and it slides back and forth suspended above the ground like a sliding barn door.

i'm doing well and will have a hard time leaving orientation. i'm meeting people that i really resonate with. most of us are very very very similar adn we are also getting to know each other very quickly. i'm very excited.