Vietnamese Girl in Ao Dai - the traditional costume of Vietnamese women
Appreciation for the minor things
International travel is a great way to remind yourself of all the things you take for granted back home. Whether it's ice in your tea, reliable sanitation, or a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a frosty beverage, you will have a whole new appreciation for the small things in your culture.
I should know. I've just returned from a two-week trip through Vietnam with my classmates in the Kansas Agricultural and Rural Leadership program.
We started our tour in the south, with a visit to Ho Chi Minh City, followed by a stop in the Mekong Delta. Then, we drove up Highway 1A to Hue, along the coast where we saw towering mountains and cliffs, amazing fishing villages, and all sorts of rice production.
We drove through the town of Dalat, where we saw fields of vegetables and greenhouses of flowers clinging to the hillsides. We spoke with fish farmers, a farm family that raises sugarcane, and furniture makers. In Nha Trang we experienced a Buddhist temple and the beauty of the beach. And, we even spent one night on a boat in the middle of Halong Bay, a UNESCO World Heritage Site that is simply breathtaking.
The countryside is beautiful in its own way, the culture is so amazing, and the people are some of the friendliest you'll find anywhere. Really friendly and very open, which nearly threw this modest Midwestern girl for a loop.
You see, I'm a pretty big deal in Southeast Asia, if I do say so.
No, really, I'm pretty big in Vietnam. Who would have thought a 5-foot, 5-inch, pudgy, pale and blonde American woman would be a hit with Vietnamese of all ages? Certainly not me. It's just one of those cultural quirks you run into on your travels.
Now, I say this because in the course of 12 days in country, I counted no less than 30 random encounters with strangers who would just brush against, tweak, grab, pat or otherwise touch me--all with similar chuckles and grins. The first was a grandma who grabbed my upper arm and gave it a healthy pinch on the docks of the Mekong River.
Yeah, I was speechless, but I managed to smile back at her and chuckle too. What else could I do?
According to our tour guide, in the Vietnamese culture, paler skin is highly prized. Women wear long sleeves and facial masks and gloves just to protect their skin from the sun's rays. Darker skin is a sign of someone who works in a field while pale skin signifies the woman has some means.
Also, with a diet of mostly rice, fresh vegetables, and few proteins other than fish and seafood, Vietnamese people are a touch more petite than us Westerners with our high fat and sugar diets. Exercise and physical labor are also emphasized in their daily lives. So, in their culture, someone who has a few extra pounds or who is taller and more muscular is considered to be an affluent person--someone of high status who can be idle.
So, in theory, I was the closest thing to Britney Spears they'd seen.
I wasn't the only celebrity in our group, though. We had a few others who were treated to the "Happy Buddha" experience. And, our tallest classmate drew stares from children and adults wherever he happened to stroll. We all found it flattering to some degree.
I mean, how many times have you been stopped at a Buddhist temple to pose for a picture with some random tourist?
Now, in Western cultures, of course, this sort of behavior would be considered rude, and at best odd. But, you have to understand the Vietnamese are very open as a people. They are very inquisitive, and truly see no harm in pointing out differences or oddities.
The whole experience made me rethink my choices here at home, though. I mean, I'll never take my humble bungalow with its humble little yard for granted after seeing families survive within their limited means on the banks of the Mekong Delta. I'll never look at ice cubes without remembering that much of the country of Vietnam doesn't have reliable refrigeration and has to shop twice a day for their family meals.
And, I won't ever fully appreciate a bacon cheeseburger and fries again without remembering that grandma on the banks of the Mekong River.
Jennifer M. Latzke
Source: www.hpj.com
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