the highway that leads out of Saigon is a sight to behold. six lanes wide and newly paved, it appears to be a vestige from a modern metropolis. and yet as we drove the highway south and into the Mekong Delta last night, like many previous Sundays, we passed scenes reminiscent of other decades-- even other cultures.
the first, and most striking sight, was the proliferation of kites in the sky, silhouetted by the setting sun. on evenings kids seem to come from all over to fly their kites (many of them in the shape of sharks) in the dusty fields along the highway. of course this image immediately reminded me of the innocent kite-flying of Kabul and the competitions described in Khaled Hosseini's Kite Runner. the kites in Vietnam, however, are flown just for fun, not as a competitive sport. literally a thousand kites dotted the sky, just miles outside the bustling city. beyond the soaring kites the next marvel can be seen: cranes and construction. Saigon seems to be growing rapidly. this does not mean construction practices are advanced nor "modern" in their technique (they are far from it). but still, tall buildings and and wide roads are making headway, preceding any rational thought of civic planning or infrastructure. (for example: the cities have tons and tons of electrical wires above the streets-- clearly to meet the need of a growing "connected" population. but instead of taking a step back and thinking about how the city can grow and adapt to the modern advances it so desires, they throw up wires everywhere in a haphazard, bundled fashion! the growth outpaces the thought!) also visible en route to the Delta are corrugated metal shacks, plots of land with construction debris, and lean-tos with tables and plastic chairs touting "Co'm Ga" and "Pho" (chicken and rice, and the country's popular soup "pho") with neon flashing signs. in one second you pass hope and the future and in the next instant you pass poverty, dirt, and dust.
the warring attributes Hope and Sadness were also at the site with us this morning as we began work our new house. the recipient of the new house is a woman in her 70's, maybe 80's, who has been living in that house for 50 years. she had all us into her house with wooden 1x8's as her only separation between inside and out--and the existence of the wooden siding was not even everywhere; many places of the exterior wall had boards missing and gaping holes to outdoors. the corrugated metal roof was in even worse disrepair, it's rusted metal sheeting letting sun in at places as thinned and delicate as lace.
while we were all looking forward to having a hand at demolition (or a foot that matter!.. i couldn't help myself from saying "back up boys" and doing a karate kick to one wall!) it was with mixed feelings that we leveled the house. sure we were offering her hope and the future (and health and safety!) with a new brick house, but at the same time we were also destroying her emotional safety of "home" and familiarity. i cannot imagine having lived somewhere for 50 years and then standing by to watch it be torn down. but, she did request this new house, and so she knew what emotional challenge she was taking on (and what wonderful gift she would be getting).
although the house was certainly old, dirty, and deteriorating, there were still elements of it that i found quite charming, and for that reason i felt even further sympathy for the woman's loss. over the front door and one of the interior doors there were panels of carved wood, a decorative element that many of the houses have to encourage air circulation (though in the better houses they are stone or concrete, not wood). these panels (and walls) were my favorite verde color, like patina'd copper, hinting at ages long ago of paint and money. one of the interior walls will remain intact, and the air vent with it, but the front wall was to be demo'd and met the eager eyes of the testosterone-high guys. because i was too saddened to see her home razed and because i like those sort of architectural details, i asked jimmy (who was on site with us for the "opening ceremony") if he would ask the home owner if i could keep it instead of destroy it. (ideally i would have encouraged them to build that element back into the front of her new house, but since design creativity is not a luxury the volunteer construction agencies exercise and since translation would have been too cumbersome i instead selfishly thought that i would keep it if she couldn't!) so with her blessing (translated, "she would be very happy for you to have it, sweetheart") i now have a favorite souvenir from my time here. i hope to have it put into metal channels for a frame and plan to put it in my first home, preferably near a door if not built into the wall over a door, so i will forever remember my work here and her 50 years of comings and goings under that threshold.
this reminds me of another quote i tagged in Shantaram! (i had to run back to the house to get my book so i can share this!!!) i'll leave yall with it since this has been long enough already! enjoy:
Every door is a portal leading through time as well as space. The same doorway that leads us into and out of a room also leads us into the past of the room and its ceaseless unfolding future. People knew that once, deep within the ur-mind, the ur-imagination. You can still find those who decorate doorways, and reverently salute them, in every culture, from Ireland to Japan. I stepped up one, two steps, and reached out with my right hand to touch the doorjamb and then touch my chest, over the heart, in a salaam to fate and an homage to the dead friends and enemies who entered with me...