-^-for posterity-^-

i spent the last week in hanoi at the 50th anniversary celebration of mcc in vietnam. it was a week filled with good food and better conversation.

some of the conversations i had were with a man who had stayed in saigon after 1975. he and a few other mcc volunteers had decided that they wanted to stay and the new government said that all friendly people were welcome.

the population of saigon was on pins and needles after april of 1975 because rumors had spread all over that, when the soldiers would take the city, there would be a blood bath. when the soldiers came, there came unarmed.

they walked through the streets of saigon with out guns, only carrying flags. they would stop in public squares and talk to people. they would split off and talk about the war, talk about the north and the new government.

there were also many cultural events. i was told a story of one specific event presented by a music group that traveled around with soldiers in the jungle to keep moral up. he said that the crowd was fairly cynical when one of the first woman came to the stage and began to introduce the act. she talked and the audience mumbled. no one was very excited.

as she finished speaking, she turned to walk away. as she turned, the audience fell silent. her hair fell to her feet. her hair was vietnamese, truly traditional. that moment, that split second when she turned and her hair fell down and draped to her feet was a moment that seemed to shock the audience into a state of shock. they had been presented with western culture for so long that they seemed to have lost touch with their traditional culture.

he told fascinating stories and i do them no justice. he told stories about cultures interacting, about life after war in a place that no one understood and everyone judged to be wrong.