March 7, 2007

Hanoi - Hai Phong, Vietnam

Hanoi beckons early. Rolling out of bed just after sunrise, I grab my cameras and start walking. Already, the city is buzzing. The aroma of noodle soup, called pho, steams out of the local street cafes. Somewhere I've read that around 95% of the Vietnamese eat their meals out. They huddle at these simple stalls, slurping savory noodles on tiny plastic chairs. On this unusually chilly morning, it's the perfect way to start the day. Hoan Kiem lake is my first destination, a popular urban tai chi and exercise spot. Think Greenlake, Hanoi-style. Legend has it that if you spot a turtle in the lake, you will see some very good luck. Turtle or not, I'm already lucky, just being in this incredible city. Adjoining the lake is Hanoi's historic Old Quarter, a charming jumble of shops, narrow streets, crumbling facades, and deep secrets. Skinny row houses line up shoulder to shoulder, each more unique than the next. I can't snap enough pictures of arched windows, ornate ironwork, romantic leuvered doors. What mysteries might lie behind these quaint facades? The area has been designated a World Heritage Site so thankfully, it will never be bulldozed for a mall or apartment complex. It's easy to get lost in the meandering spider-web layout of the place. You'll notice each street features a speciality. For example, there's "banner street" where shops sell only festive flags and wall hangings, and "tombstone street," and "lacquered bowls street" and...well, you get the idea. At least the shopkeepers know what their competitors are doing.

Son Michael Pham doesn't believe in letting too much grass grow under our feet, so we're off again by mid-morning, heading for our next destination: Haiphong. Haiphong is one of Seattle's sister cities. It's an important northern port that exports rice, maize, tin, garments, and other goods. More about the city in tomorrow's blog. Today, no time to look around. We toss our lugguge into our hotel rooms and head straight for the first orphanage Son Michael visited on his first return to Vietnam eight years ago. A room of precious toddlers is awaiting our arrival at Hoa Phuong orphanage. Even when the bubbles and goodies come out, the children are amazingly well behaved and polite. This place has a wonderful feel to it. The kids look happy, the grounds are spacious, the dorms of ten are cozy, supervised by an attentive house mom or dad. Orphanages outside of the main cities of Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City get very little attention but Son Michael and his Kids Without Borders organization is putting this out-of-the-way facility on the map. Several Seattle-area people sponsor kids here through KWB's "Teach Me 2 Fish" program. A sponsor commits to about $300 a year to help an older child as he or she leaves the orphanage, usually at age 18. Although these kids grow up in a nurturing environment, they are still heavily institutionalized, and lack the know-how, confidence, and money to launch into the cold, cruel world. That's where Son Michael steps in. He's cheerleader. Education advisor. Santa Claus. Instigator. He's the conduit for connecting the needy to opportunity. It's obvious when you meet "his kids" as he calls them, that all their potential would be a terrible thing to lose. Take the story of Thao, for example. When she was just three, her mother died, and with no father around, she went to live with an aunt. But at age 7, the aunt could no longer take care of Thao and put her in the orphanage. Now she's a graceful young woman of 21, incredibly intelligent and capable, and attending culinary school in Hanoi. And there's Tam, now 23, who landed a great job as a prep chef at one of the fanciest hotels in Haiphong. It was Son Michael who encouraged, cajoled, opened the doors for these talented young people and so many others. He's the kind of guy who makes things happen, then figures out how to pay for it later. He has a hard time saying no. Son tirelessly listens, fusses over every kid's issues, feels deeply about saving them all. When he tells me about Thao losing her family at such a young age, his eyes well up with tears. But in the next room, the little ones are laughing. They're playing with a new toy dug out of Son's suitcase. As one of the orphanage directors told me, "Uncle Son visit us each time he come to Vietnam. And always, he bring smiles and happiness to the children." Yes, happiness and bright futures.

For more information on Kids Without Borders go to www.kidswithnoborders.org.