The Second Last Word- Editor-in-Chief’s Address

By Abeer Yusuf

Photos by the Photography Team

Love.

If there was one word to sum the entire trip up, this would be it.

This trip began with most of us in our somewhat knitted groups embarking on an expedition that was to bring us to the land with no Facebook access. Through our prep meetings we knew more or less the faces we were expecting on the trip, but none of us knew what the faces would mean by the end of it.

Most of us were actually anxious about leaving our native soil, as that fated day on the 9th of July, Malaysia and her people were to be put under a tremendous test- it was the day of the Bersih rally. But by the end of the day, the 19 travellers would have undergone their very own tests - walking endlessly from place to place, tired, sleepy and perhaps already ruing the decision of coming on the trip – a taste of things to come in following days. 

Spending 24 hours with 19 strangers was going to be a task- imagine walking, sleeping, eating, shopping and living with them.Everyday was as peculiar and fascinating as could be. The first two days devoted to doing ‘the tourist thing’ – visiting the Chu Chi tunnels, War Remnants museum, water puppetry show among others- allowed travellers to bond with and know each other better. Having been on two previous trips I was wary of the work ethic that was about to be displayed on this trip; while the previous year (Chiang Mai) we operated from the confines of the hotel thanks to WiFi, Indonesia (in 2009) was where I had bonded most with my peers because we had to commune at the cybercafés just a walk away from the hotel. Luckily for me, this year one room became Command Central- Room 501, where everyone would be calling for information, checking up on whereabouts of others to even sending messages to other people and generally hanging out. The itinerary design and setup therefore lead to smooth functioning when the weekdays came with its official trips to various institutions. 

A little guest we encountered during one of our many photocalls.

They say that it is only at our worst that we get to know someone the best- and I say this without the slightest hint of exaggeration that conditions indeed became very tough for us. Waters were as testy and murky as the Mekong Delta- through minimal hours of sleep, tough editorial deadlines and tons of activities, it was truly a test for us all to see what could be the resulting end of this. And it gives me immense pride in being able to say that this year’s travellers have gone beyond all sorts of hurdles, even risking their health at times, to bring forth their personal pieces, reflections and love affairs with the city that is Saigon. It is no easy task to come home after a long, endlessly tiring day only to plop yourself in front of the computer to produce words- and words that make legible sense to an unacquainted reader at that. Yet grammatical and logical sense prevailed, and thanks to the likes of Andrea, WuiJia and John (all members of the Blog team) the blog was updated, without fail, every night, making the rest of us look good!

Despite being rained on, spirits remained high on the trip.

Another very important cog in the wheel that is the ‘In Search of Saigon’ excursion is the role of the student guides. Perhaps the most resounding understanding of what the student guides meant came inadvertently in one of our formal sessions, at Doi Rat Dep, where we, able bodied individuals were shown how even the most easiest of things that we take for granted, like navigating city streets or basic access amenities, are a challenge for those with disabilities. Having come to a country where even communicating in English was a challenge, our student guides were nothing less than God sent. Signage, roads, customs, foodways all so different from a country that we are neighbours to opened our eyes as to how crippled we would be had our guides not been there. To them we owe pretty much our entire trip, which would have otherwise gone down with extreme difficulty and made Saigon all the more foreign, rather than the home it came to be.

One of the reasons why we fell in love with Saigon was the culture. Our evenings were spent walking around parks, some travellers even bonding with locals over a game ofda cau (the local shuttlecock game), eating street food, packing off to Ben Thanh market for spots of shopping and so on. I in particular won’t forget the ‘Paddle Pop song’ blaring from every alternate motorbike vendor on the roads. Transportation was another thing that caught our fancy. Having thought that we had seen the worst of the rempits and motorcycle stunts in Malaysia, Vietnam served as a reminder that we hadn’t seen anything yet. Francesca, herself a capable biker, enjoyed the many thrills and near-death experiences of the easy-going, vicarious lives motorcyclists in Vietnam live. I find it important too, to remark that the mark Vietnamese roadways left on us was quite literal- within 10 days of our time there, students were beginning to looking left to right while crossing roads-  the American road system, rather than the right to left we more commonly favour in Commonwealth countries.

Unequivocally we all admired the close-knit community that makes the Vietnamese people – people come out huddling on tiny chairs and tables, sitting and talking as days and tourists go by. We replicated much the same- huddling around our laptops in the hotel’s computer area, talking, giggling and chatting with our work tapping itself away. We formed a little community over time, the Saigonners- each with our little roles in place. Our hotel provided quite a lot in terms of making this possible- from the sweet Uncle who would open the doors to those coming back from late night travails of Saigon (at 2am no less) to Son, the building’s handyman who was ever ready to help provide us with whatever it was we needed. The hospitality offered by Vy and her mother (owners of the hotel) is one that deserves extra mention not only because they bore a young adult racket like ours, but also because they went out of their way in making us feel welcome. Seeing that some of us were staying up late at night to finish work, we were coerced into eating biscuits and bananas to keep us going, and despite having no obligation to do so, Vy’s mother came out to our bus on the day we were leaving for our overnight trip to the Mekong Delta only to see us off (it warmed my heart that she said ‘see you later’ to Dr.Yeoh by touching her palm to his and saying “Goodbye teacher”). On our last night in Saigon, we were given a farewell party in the hotel lobby, replete with lychees, French bread and drinks. If this doesn’t show the love of the people for us, I don’t know what does. 

The fruits of friendship: Christyna Fong and Sabrina Kamaruddin at the Mekong Delta

They say it’s the people that make a journey worthwhile. There is no ‘In Search Of’ trip where this testament has stood true-r. From Jia Wei the bun producing video-man to John (who unleashed his inner Mona) the man that was always there, ready to lend a helping hand whenever one asked for it to WuiJia, the woman who went beyond the call of duty only to help others in every which way possible. Nate (Audrey) the thoughtful and caring one to Joanna the maternal figure, who along with Farah, forms one half of the Medical Mary Poppins team; Farah without whom the trip wouldn’t have been half as interesting and lively (you must have her on EVERY one of the forthcoming In Search Of trips). Fei the eternal nonchalant dude to Cyren the lepidopterist who can churn articles in minutes; Sabrina the most dedicated Video Head and culturally aware personality. Francesca the hopelessly addicted Saigon-lover to Mumbi the bestest ‘bestie’ who made an amazing bus seat buddy, Christyna the lovely dainty friendly soul. Andrea the one with a voice which seems like it has been copy-pasted from a Disney animation to Nadia the child-like Korean doll. Bonnie without whose critical inputs during sessions we’d probably fall asleep, to Lochna the tireless and sweet Bhangra choreographer-cum-editor, this trip contained the most vibrant and personality-diverse melting pot one could ever ask for. From mere acquaintances to fast friends, this trip did what it set out to do- make us stronger, wiser and knowledgeable in the various ways of the world and its people. It ought to be known that this trip also had the largest concentration of LGBT community members, a feat I assume would be hard to replicate in the future study trips.

Awkwards-R-Us.

Unfortunately with love comes heartbreak, and at the end of our remarkable 10 days here, we had to bid Saigon adieu. To say that tears were shed would be an understatement. The trip came to an end with a feeling of morbidity, that this camaraderie, chemistry would never be found again, no matter how hard we attempted to recreate it back home- it wouldn’t be the same. Promises made to meet each other and stay in touch, we said our last goodbyes to the city that became our second home, and will forever more be referred to as the city where we found love. Adele’s lyrics come to mind:

Nothing compares, no worries or cares

Regrets and mistakes they’re memories made

Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

Personally this marks the end of my official sojourn on board the ‘In Search Of’ series, having now been a part of three. If I can attribute my altered life perspective to anything, it would be this series, which showed me the bounty and difficulty both of teamwork, the beauty one can find in the smallest of places and meekest of people, and the open-mindedness and tolerance which I feel I lacked prior to undertaking these trips. I can now walk incredibly long distances without giving in to fatigue all the while actually taking in sights and sounds and having a whale of time with peers. For the incredible journey this has been, thank you. To the editors aboard this trip, thank you. Had it not been for your dedication and motivation to see the best of the articles featured on the blog, this blog would have been fundamentally lacking. To Bats, the chaperone for this year, thank you for taking such good care (and with such good demeanour) of us despite being ill. You’ve been the coolest chaperone! To Dr Yeoh, thank you for undertaking this trip year after year tirelessly, to educate and enlighten us, put up with us and bear us. If it weren’t for you and your brainchild, we’d literally not be here. And to you, my peers- you ought to applaud yourselves. This year’s blog has beaten all past years’ with a record 44 entries minutely describing everything you have come to learn and love about Saigon. And lastly, to Saigon, thank you. You were happiness- amplified.

Abeer Yusuf is currently midway through her fourth year in Honours, researching on South Asian Third Culture Kids, and would one day like to be credited with making the term ‘desi’ more commonplace in Malaysia.

Technology Lent- A Technophile’s Daring Experiment

By Abeer Yusuf

Photos by Farah Zulkefly & various sources

16 Twitter mentions.

62 Facebook notifications.

6 friend requests.

15 event invites.

8 private messages.

9 days.

One test.

To say that I am connected with the times would be an understatement. If someone were to ask me how often I ‘Facebook’ or ‘Twitter’, the answer would follow a snort from some or the other friend of mine - I. Am. Always. Online. It’s not something I ever paid attention to, my virtual attachment to the Internet, but off late I began to realise a disturbing trend that had begun to take shape in both me and my immediate society. 

Virtual presence has become so important, taken over such a pertinent aspect of our lives, it seems absolutely blasphemous that one would consider it a luxury, and not a glaring necessity of our times. No one can get away with dismissing the Internet as just a fad; it has become an existence in which our presence is vital. 

Whereas once you could keep in touch through email and the phone, if you’re not on Facebook or Twitter 24-7, you pretty much miss out on some or the other ‘major’ news. There is today, a need to be connected with each other all the time. Getting away from the networks is akin to religiously following a television series, disappearing for a few days, and returning only to find that the entire plotline has changed shape. 

The same dilemma applies for technology. Photo credit: Mahoneyjoe.com

But that is only one of the many grouses that I maintain with the online world. The other involves the quicksilver vortex that is the addiction to this technology. Devices being continually introduced to aid this addiction don’t make life any easier (be it your new Android smartphone or Apple iPad), nor does the knowledge that free WiFi access is adding fuel to the fire. Too many times I have been in conversations with my friends over lunch where I find them periodically distracted by ‘pings’ and ‘whatsapps’ and whatnots. Frustrated beyond imagination is one way of putting what I feel - you are physically with me, talking to me, kindly pay attention to me! The other thing I don’t comprehend is how people need to update their virtual lives about their physical lives. Rather than telling me how awesome it is to see me, I go home to find that I’ve been tagged as the ‘splendid person I always love spending time with HOMG it was so awesome to see you again Abeer!’ This need to be in two worlds at the same time is one that, I feel will lead to plenty of problems in the future.

While I must address here that my addiction is different from the conventional Twitter/Facebook-user sense, it is an addiction nevertheless. I post endless news links on my Facebook page, update my status with disturbing frequency detailing minutely amusing co-incidences (I have a need to be funny, a need that has left me highly unpopular due to my apparent ‘lameness’) and post senseless updates about how satisfying a hot shower or a Cadbury bar is at the end of the day. While it could be worse- I could be the person who tweets her thoughts out virtually or updates followers constantly about her whereabouts or even be the person who details mundane activities about her life and love on Facebook- I fear the addict that I have become. It is a habit of mine to constantly go over to the Facebook page, only to see if the amber sign has flagged off, if even for one notification that has nothing to do with me. The moment I remove the page, I must put it back on, because it has become such a habit. When something remotely upsets me, I began mentally jotting ways in which I can cryptically address it on either Facebook or Twitter. If I don’t Facebook at least twice a day, I feel an uncontrollable desire to head back home and plop myself in front of my computer screen only to see how everyone else is living their lives on a busy Friday night. I have, scarily enough, begun spending time thinking about what my next Twitter update should be.¬¬

Lamebook ought to have been the real name of Facebook. Picture credit: Google Images

It was at this juncture that I decided I needed to get away from all sorts of technology. While the ubiquitous mobile phone was necessary to communicate with my parents and friends in Saigon, I decided that it was time that I went on a virtual cleansing trip. The trip to Ho Chi Minh offered me the opportunity to do just that. I decided I would see how long I could last before succumbing to the great tool that is Mark Zuckerbergs’ creation and also, just how others online would take my virtual death (and dearth of activity). I decided for that reason to try to limit as far as possible the number of people whom I told about my impending trip, only so that the lack of Facebook/Twitter activity would make them wonder where I was; I wanted to see how far they would go, or be concerned even, that possibly something was not right with me. 

It was with this medley of feelings that I plunged to my virtual death, my very own Technology Lent.

This post/experimentalso comes at a time when yet anothersocial networking platformhas launched- set to redefine social networking, many have claimed this will take over Facebook in a swipe with its easy-to-use interface and increased privacy controls. Once again, existing social media platforms are overtaken by vapid discussions raving about THE best technological invasion to preside the Internet, consuming individuals like a child takes to a new toy - all excited and unable to fault a single feature of it. In the time I was ‘dead’, I received countless invitations to Google+, which was “just the coolest thing ever- now we can group video chat!” and of course, the replacement for a leaky Facebook- “it’s got waaay better privacy control options”.

Dreams of a more topographical nature. Picture courtesy: Postsecret

The first few days were brilliant. Saigon completely usurped me. No actually, obligations to my position and Saigon completely usurped me. With so much to do, I barely had the time to be concerned about what was going on in the virtual world. 

I got my much needed respite from refreshing my Facebook page every 5 minutes waiting for an amber sign to flag and it was amazing to not be connected or to have to constantly keep up with e-etiquette by replying to posts and commenting endlessly. It was a huge relief to not have to post anything and worry about how many ‘liked’ it, how welcome or critical my statement about something profligate by the amount of comments or retweets it received, or if a photo I posted made anyone’s day. Within days however, as work piled on and hurdles began presenting themselves rather unsightly, I started missing my old venting outlet- the Internet. I began thinking again in 140 keystrokes- that if I were with access to Twitter, I’d have already written about 10-15 status updates cynically ruing my situation. Therein began agony at not being able to vent passive-aggressively. 

Going on this Lent also meant a huge sacrifice when it came to friends. One of my best friends lives in a country completely geographically removed from Asia- in the UK. And this is a best friend with whom I must communicate everyday- even if it is to talk about how I squished a snail unintentionally. While the friend did know I was going for a sojourn to Vietnam, he did not know how long for and wasn’t told about my imminent disappearing act. As situations in Vietnam got tedious for me, my one respite- my best friend, wasn’t there for me - all because I rely on technology to connect with him. I found myself unable to communicate with him or any of my other best friends because I’d have to employ the aid of email or Facebook or Twitter to get in touch with them, and having sworn off it, I was in a pickle. I got through my problems somehow (and barely), but I managed to. It was then too I realised just how involved my friends were in my life- I don’t go two days without updating them about what the scene in my life is like (in my defence, dramatic events take place with rapid succession in my life) which made me reflect; just how healthy was this? Rather than being able to update someone conventionally and tell them everything of substance that had taken place over time, I’d become so used to friends deducing conclusions from my blog, Twitter and Facebook page, that it never really gave me a chance to either take a breather, deal with my stuff on my own, nor give me the pleasure of informing/updating my friends on my own, without them having known 4 hours earlier thanks to Facebook. Of course, it also meant not being able to respond to serious incidences as well- during the course of the 10 day trip, one of my other best friends was almost evicted from her flat, causing me much panic about what was happening back home. 

Perhaps what helped in making the Lent easier on me was the fact that Facebook is blocked in Vietnam. Yes, fellow technophiles will probably gasp at this, but the communist state maintains a stronghold on its denizens by restricting this portal as a site that would otherwise allow for freedom of expression (proxy servers however have provided the sneaky way out for those who simply can’t do with it). That is perhaps also why the Vietnamese have this sustained feeling of community, though this is merely me venturing a guess. Time and again I noticed how close-knit and community-based the Vietnamese are, no doubt helped by the lack of technology infiltration. Should Facebook have been more readily accessible to the masses, perhaps the people wouldn’t come out to parks and squares in throngs and meet up as sociably as they presently do. I was also thankful for escape from the ‘Blackberry culture’ in Vietnam. The previous two study trip destinations that I’ve been on, namely Thailand and Indonesia, both have a prevailing Blackberry culture where the younger generations use the smartphone to ‘BBM’ (Blackberry Message) each other. This added to the hope that in a region where smartphones, Blackberries and WiFi access is the only way to go, there may be hope for Vietnam in holding off. 

Towards the end of the trip, I felt as though I had been happily rehabilitated from the Internet. In fact, I began contemplating going off Facebook permanently, a thought that uptil Vietnam, would have sent me into cold shivers. Not only that; we managed to attain a communication network that, though exclusive to those staying on one side of the hotel, worked like a charm- our bathrooms at the Mai Vy hotel were without ventilators, in place of which were windows with curtains. While this would alarm just about anyone as to how private the bathrooms really were (and indeed a Peeping Tom’s dream), the one positive that came out of it was that all the bathroom windows lead to a little abyss, hole-like tunnel through which sound travelled. Communication became effective two-fold, having discovered that almost anyone was just a bathroom call away (provided they were near or in the bathroom at the time), be it to rush them to get down to the lobby quickly or ask a question. I christened it the Windowbook, and it comes with a unique feature neither Facebook nor Google+ have- synchronised singing. As almost everyone would head to the bathroom the moment we got back home, we realised we could capitalise on the ‘X-factor’ that were our sweet bathroom singing nodes. Thus began an epic tale of singing Disney favourites like Mulan and Aladdin, also enjoying the likes of the Bee Gees, Beatles and ABBA. 

A blurry shot of the Windowbook and its inhabitants. Picture courtesy: Farah Z

As for me, all my plans of going off Facebook and Twitter were futile. I returned home to find myself inundated by private messages asking me where I had disappeared, what on Earth had happened to me and why I wasn’t responding to any messages. I thought I had been successfully rehabilitated but I wasn’t really- within two days, it was back to the daily grind of answering endless posts, liking every remotely funny update, listlessly staring all day at the LCD computer screen and waiting in vain for that addictive amber flag to glow. Sigh.

Author’s Note- I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to one person in particular, Ayesha, who got quite upset with my disappearing act. Never again.

Abeer Yusuf is currently midway through her fourth year in Honours, researching on South Asian Third Culture Kids, and would one day like to be credited with making the term ‘desi’ more commonplace in Malaysia.

Able In A Disabled Society- Ho Chi Minh’s Very Beautiful People

By Abeer Yusuf

Photographs by Audrey Samuel

For the second last session of the Saigon chapter, students took a short taxi ride to the suburbs of Ho Chi Minh City to meet with an organization called DRD, short for Doi Rat Dep, which means ‘life is very beautiful’ in Vietnamese. The acronym in English also conveniently expands to Disability Resource and Development Centre, which was the discourse of discussion for the session. Upon entering the premises, students were given the chance to witness one of DRD’s activities in action - a group of children with disabilities doing their homework in what is billed as the clubhouse of the organization.

Learning a foreign language also took on a unique meaning when all those present were asked to introduce themselves in sign language (as not all at the Centre can communicate in English/Vietnamese), keeping the students occupied for some time in the endeavours of perfecting a new-found language, taught as courtesy of Eunice and her mother, Susan. The end results were not disappointing, each student having gained the ability to spell their own name in sign language, some even going the creative mile and using flower signs. 

Stepping into the world of sign language.

The meet was jointly hosted by Ms. Vo Thi Hoang Yen, director and founder of the organization and Ms. Nguyen Thuy Diem Huong, coordinator of the scholarship and mentoring programme. Ms. Vo, 45, explained the organization’s role and two main aims, calling it a disability-friendly place that was founded in 2005 to raise awareness of disabilities in Vietnam, as well as to ‘build capacity’- first for those with disabilities to empower themselves through employment and internship opportunities and second, for other organizations with similar agendas to collaborate, network and aid each other in terms of support and resources. While there is no account for the number of members or collaborating NGOs, people of all ages with all kinds of disabilities are part of the organization.

One of the points raised was how the term “disability” has etymologically changed over time, progressing from being a distinguishing obvious trait in individuals to a word that contemporarily signals a negative connotation. It is for this reason that Ms. Vo emphasized the need to address those with disabilities as People With Disabilities (PWDs) rather than the more commonly applied term ‘disabled people’- “they are people first, disabled later”, humanizing the context, adding that, “society tends to forget that we are all disabled in some ways, just that some disabilities are more prominent than others”.

Society in terms of Ho Chi Minh City was called out by Ms. Vo as a largely non-PWD friendly space, which she cited as the main reason why so many issues persist for those with disabilities. Obvious communication problems aside, PWDs are unable to integrate into society because of the general assumption that such people are ‘problematic’ and incapable of doing anything significant.

Some of the PWDs at the clubhouse taking time out from homework to pose for the cameras.

When asked about society’s perception of such people, Ms. Vo answered that a major part of the problem with the local community was the role faith played in how people perceive the PWDs. In the Buddhist faith, those with disabilities are seen as repenting or paying for past sins in previous lives, or afflicted as so because of sins other family members may have committed. Despite the emergence of PWDs as a result of the Vietnam War, Ms. Vo regretfully said that people still hold onto the belief that karma (what goes around comes around) is the main agent of the conditions of people with disabilities.

As these strongly-held beliefs penetrate the mindset of society, those with disabilities are shunned in the name of embarrassment and forced into corners, invisible to the people who have little or no awareness of such situations, ultimately creating a vicious cycle of the repressed being more repressed and the uneducated remaining unaware. Statistics state that almost 15.3 percent of the population are people living with disabilities, which makes knowledge of this all the more hard to digest.

Most disturbingly however, PWDs learn to believe that they are in fact incapable of doing anything on their own, instead relegated to the ethos that they must always rely on someone, and have no viable skills/abilities that can help anyone in any way, a misconception, according to Ms. Vo

Ms. Vo explaining the ropes of DRD.

Indeed, that is precisely why DRD has come about- to not only make society aware of an important capable segment of society, but also to help make the PWDs realize that they are in fact, despite everything society says about them, able. It is in these efforts that DRD aids the PWDs, by helping them develop social skills and independent living skills. Among social skills, PWDs come to the Centre every Friday and embark on cooking excursions, buying produce from local markets, interacting with local vendors and cooking food at the Centre, simultaneously learning how to integrate into society and how to live independently. Recognizing that all PWDs have different aptitudes, the clubhouse even hosts open mic sessions for the musically inclined, participation open to all members of the public. Among other interesting activities, PWDs also practice martial arts and the Centre is about to introduce a speed dating service to be hosted at the clubhouse. PWDs at the clubhouse are also encouraged to make handicrafts that are sold as souvenirs.

The Centre has also conceptualized a pilot programme that helps facilitate interaction between the PWDs and volunteer groups to help them learn social skills. DRD also helps co-ordinate efforts between potential headhunters open to accepting PWDs into their setup as part of their employment programme, having placed individuals at British Council Vietnam and HSBC. Internship opportunities are also coordinated by DRD.

Mentoring and scholarship programmes have also been set up to ensure that PWDs are able to exercise their rights to a proper education. Of all the PWDs in Vietnam, only 0.1 percent have been enrolled in universities, many also having to pull out due to lack of sufficient funds, an issue DRD helps the PWDs out with. To date, 30 PWDs have been financially supported by generous individuals. The organization also provides counseling services to young aged PWDs, recognizing that dealing with their unique life trajectories requires an understanding of how they are different from the other ‘normal’ members of society and how it is important to develop integration skills at a young age. DRD has also gone to the extent of taking into account parents of children with disabilities who need to be educated and enlightened on how to provide holistic care for their children. It is no surprise then that having seen the progress of the various programmes, the Atlantic Philantrophies group from the United States of America have granted a 1 billion USD award to DRD to aid the PWDs financially for the further undertakings.

It is no wonder that after five years since its inception, the organization is considered the best on dealing with disabilities in the south of Vietnam. But the work is far from complete. Ms. Vo recognizes that society’s traditional motto in contributing to the PWDs has historically been to keep a safe distance while providing financial aid and physical rehabilitation all in the name of charity, and feels that this needs to evolve into a social motto that acknowledges that “society needs to be changed to accommodate citizens with disabilities”.

For someone who personally is a PWD and faced employment discrimination despite holding two BAs, Ms. Vo understands what it is like not to have a voice, and not be represented. This is the main reason Doi Rat Dep was founded. Seeing as Ms. Vo has just won the President Call to Service Award from the President of the Unites States (for service to Vietnam), the voices may just have been heard far beyond where she would have imagined.


Abeer Yusuf is currently midway through her fourth year in Honours, researching on South Asian Third Culture Kids, and would one day like to be credited with making the term ‘desi’ more commonplace in Malaysia.