Last Thoughts

            Vietnam had always been this elusive third world country to me. Full of…well, even that I didn’t know. Honestly, I couldn’t even find it on a globe until a few months ago when I took the biggest plunge of my life and enrolled in this program. It just seemed to be such a divergence from the comfortable monotony of Union, and I knew I’d never have such an opportunity again. So that was that, I signed the papers, got the visa, and looked it up on the globe.

            Ever since I took off from JFK my life has completely flipped and unraveled. During my stay in Vietnam, I was able to learn about the engrossing, resilient and thickly woven culture of Vietnam. My interactions with beloved friends, teachers and strangers have shown me the inescapable kindness and beauty within the Vietnamese people. It was the culmination of my studies and my interactions that led me on my own path of discovery and fulfillment. It was in seemingly insignificant moments—walking through alleys in the pouring rain and being ushered in to play jax with six year olds, and sitting down at Hoan Kiem lake and being joined by a Vietnamese war victim, with only one leg—that I learned about the true Vietnam, and what really mattered to me.

            Many Americans go through days counting paper cuts, cursing WIFI connections, and complaining of drizzle, while many Vietnamese smile at a bowl of rice or a friendly wave. Vietnamese standards differ from Americans standards in a multitude of ways. Not only do the Vietnamese have little sense of embarrassment when picking their nose or urinating in public, and little shame when littering anywhere, but also, they have few worries as long as they have a roof and a bowl of rice. Vietnamese people, for having as ‘little’ as they do, financially, are extremely wealthy in terms of happiness. They have taught me to appreciate family above all else, share meals with those you love, hold the hand of someone you care for, and take a rest with a cup of tea. So few Westerners apply these tenets and miss the common happiness found here. Life isn’t about being the wealthiest, the smartest, or the most respected; rather it is about holding your grandchild, helping your father, and supporting your neighbor.

            When I returned to America I was a little tanner, a little chubbier, and a lot happier. In America, for the price of your sanity, your tranquility and your soul you can have ‘freedom’ and luxury. In return for wrinkles, back pains and depression, you can have all of the glory that capitalism can provide. Where do I find the balance between the two extremes of poverty and gluttony? Is it even possible to live tranquilly in America? 

I worried that upon my return I would be repressed and packaged into a duplicate copy of “A Good College Student”. What is wrong with that, you ask? After my stay in Vietnam, I simply cannot carry on as I had before. I cannot unlearn and I cannot forget. I have this burning desire to see more, hear more, and learn more. I feel a need to explore other nations and customs, and learn as much from experience as possible. The question now remains, how do I combine this life, of wonder and alienation, with my collegiate life of obedience and uniformity?

My trip to Vietnam did not answer any questions nor clear any confusion, rather, it threw a Wainwright curveball in the mix. Of course, I am not enlightened nor edified; I am just a young adult opening my eyes to something new. I cannot say which way of life is superior. I can only say that Vietnam is a chaotic wonder that mystified me, broadened my perspectives, and gave me a whole album full of photos and a lifetime full of memories.