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Mai's Travel Journal: Chapter 11 - Kon Tum

Monday 4 October 2004

I was certain about the road from the three-way intersection of Vĩnh Điện (Quảng Nam) to get from Hội An (Quảng Nam) to Kon Tum. Not until getting on the bus would I would realize how much information I actually missed on that road.

I should have gone back to Đà Nẵng from Hội An so I could reach Kon Tum first. In fact, I had started from Vĩnh Điện, which meant that I reached Gia Lai first and then I had to catch another bus from Pleiku (Gia Lai) to Kon Tum city. Is this too complicated? Anyway, that’s what happens when the information you have is vague.

I was wavering, worried and a little bit discouraged because I did not know how and when I could reach Kon Tum. If I was lucky, I would reach Pleiku at about 7pm then there would still be a bus to Kon Tum, but this chance was small. I even thought about going to Gia Lai first instead of Kon Tum. But my determination had taken me to Kon Tum just as I’d planned. I tried to learn another lesson about courage.

Pleiku city, at 8:30pm. The weather was cold and I did not have any warm clothes. I was debating whether to stop or to continue. Finally I won, because I found the courage to continue my journey as planned. I think so.

I chose to put my trust in a motorcycle taxi and was on my way to Kon Tum. I went in the cold and dark without even realizing about the risk I was taking until I had safely reached Kon Tum.

The driver went around looking for the provincial youth hostel to find me a safe place to rest. Unfortunately, the hostel was full; the next day was the United Youth Conference for Kon Tum Province!

I got more directions and was sent to the motel for the Commerce Ministry. Thus, I had a safe place to rest.

I believed this was one of the luck and miracles that I could not imagine at the beginning. I had read a phrase somewhere: “there are some results that you would not expect, and you just need to give it trust.” I had applied that principle.

But, remember not to be foolhardy, I reminded myself.

Tuesday 5 October 2004

I woke up with the worry that, as I had come at the same time as the United Youth Conference was on, it would be hard to make contact with the locals to “come down” to visit. But, everything was the opposite. Ánh, the secretary of the Provincial Youth Union for Kon Tum, had contacted me and come all the way to the village to introduce a young volunteer scholar there to me. Everything was smooth and quick.

I came to Đăk Xao village, Đắk Tô district with Tân, who was born in 1980. Like in the northwest, the distance in kilometers had no meaning in predicting how fast you could reach it. The time it takes depends on each road segment, the weather and your health.

I was lucky again because there was almost no rain so the road was dry and much easier to travel. The road to Đăk Xao had different stages. The even asphalt road; red dirt roads which were being leveled and bulldozed; to roads with gravel. Then, there were roads with concrete, sometimes broken and curved by underground water. There were also roads slimy with mud. Rocky roads. You could experience a whole range of feelings: going up, going down, hovering, going over, going under, wading across a stream, even swinging on a hanging bridge.

I had learned about the experience of wading across a stream from a Chinese proverb: “skipping over each small rock will get you across a wide river.” But, where the water was too swift, the rocks were too slippery or there was moss, then don’t be fooled. In fact, swift water was easy to spot, but with rocks that were half in and half out of the water, or all in the water, then the only way to know whether it was slippery or had moss was by trying to “skip over it” or by “catching a frog” (there were a lot of them! ;-)) I had crossed the stream that way. At first I was worried about getting swept up by the water, but then I started having fun (the water was very cooling!).

I came to Đắc Xao when the sun was about to say good-bye. Passing by the gate to the village office, Tân showed me the house for volunteers (which include Tân and Thụ).

The temporary look of the house was countered by the trellises of sweet peas and the green vegetable garden in front of the door. They provided the main food for the two friends everyday. Sometimes, if there was a grocery truck coming by then they would supplement their diet with fresh meat and fish, but mainly it was dried fish. “In the rainy season, nobody can come or go, we eat dry fish all the time, it was very boring but then we got used to it”, Thụ told me.

After dinner, the three of us visited the house of Old Pin, the secretary of the Youth Union. In the main house, the children were studying; some were on chairs, some on the floor, or bed. Sometimes, they shouted and quarreled with each other. We came to the kitchen; everyone was clustering around the stove. Old Pin and some other people were calculating the area of reclaiming virgin soil to see who were good farmers. From time to time, there were some jokes. I did not understand anything so I had to ask people to translate for me.

The tradition of the Xê ethnic people here was that the kitchen had to be big enough for the whole family and guests to gather and eat, chat and socialize after a day on the farm or the forest. The community of the village was maintained and developed from there. It was the thread to tie each member and each generation to each other.

Wednesday 6 October 2004

I was woken up by the local radio program, but wasn’t fully awake until the school bells started ringing, rushing the children to school.

The school is directly across from the commune People’s office. Although the signs indicated that the school is an elementary school, in reality the space is shared with senior secondary students, and they all study, and participate in activities with their teachers together.

The students performed their morning exercise drills to a drumbeat, then lined up for classes. I was reminded of myself sometime long long ago- it is as though a snapshot from my life is being re-enacted here at Dat Xao, only it’s so distant in time and space.

Thu, Tan and I went to the three hamlets, Nang Lon 1, 2 and 3.

Just going down the slope from the People’s office, I met a young boy chopping cassava roots. That’s A Dac, a 4th grade student. His family has many children and experienced economic difficulties so Dac left home and came here. The storeowner helped him with school and boarding in exchange for his help. In the morning, he helps her and in the afternoon he goes to school. Looking at the dark-skinned boy, sitting on the pile of cassava roots and rapidly chopping away, sporting a kind face and a bright smile, I felt like he has the innate potential to bring opportunities to himself and bring hope to others as well.

The entire hamlet of Nang Lon 1 is scattered with tree stumps, grass, hay and so on, all being utilized to build the Rong House and the Neu tree to celebrate the New Crop Festival. Because of the shortage of people in the hamlet, the job of building the communal house is more difficult and slower than in other hamlets. Everyone has his or her own duties, from getting the supplies ready to the actual construction itself, but that’s the cooperative spirit of the community culture, and the sharing of tasks and experiences between the generations, between men and women.

The Rong House is a cultural symbol and is the hamlet community centre. The bonding and intertwining of individuals and hamlets is born from this place. Usually, if the Rong house and the Neu tree are not finished, then the locals will not celebrate the New Crop Festival. I arrived during their breaks so I had the opportunity to chat and ask more about the hamlet. The hamlet chief introduced a few barely subsisting families to me. They are mainly families where the women are the sole breadwinners.

The family of Ms. Y Van is an example. Her husband died early, leaving her with two children. Her daughter, Y Phe, is about 15 years old but has only finished grade four. Her son A Nhoi is 18 but is of little help to her. He does not like physical labour so all the household work, and the farming falls on Y Van’s and Y Phe’s shoulders. When I arrived, Y Van still hasn’t returned from the field. Y Phe is home alone, cooking dinner, a pot full of purple and yellow corn in place of white rice. I sat with Y Phe next to the fire and observed the house, which has numerous holes but lacks light. Even the roof itself is quite unique, it’s a combination of alternating halves of the Lo O plant, one right-side up, one down, evenly and uniformly just like the lives of the inhabitants of this house. The instability one felt when sitting or standing in this house and the crouching when walking about in the house, all seem to be tied to the difficulties and shortages of this family. I don’t dare to say much, I just quietly sat there and observed and reflected. I think sooner or later, Y Phe will quit school, despite the countless social policies and support to encourage people like her to stay in school. When will I be able to hear Y Phe talk about the basic minimum qualities of life, like a cosy family life with enough food?

I went to Ms. Y Hnoi’s home and I encountered an image of a woman sun-bathing in the warm sunlight in the front yard. I discovered that she’s experiencing fever and chills and it is too cold for her to stay indoors and so she had to go outside to keep warm. She didn’t want to go to the local health clinic because she believes she will get over it herself. I felt sorry for her and for all the people living there. There isn’t just a shortage of food and of clothing, but also of information and basic understanding.

Circling back to hamlet Nang Lon 2, the entire hamlet is busy building the Rong House. Nang Lon 2 hamlet is more populated so the atmosphere is more energetic and enthusiastic than Nang Lon 1. Children, women soaked the Day branches in water so they’ll be soft, flexible and more pliable. Young people, with more strength, are busy doing the construction of the frame and the roof. The Rong House, little by little, is inching toward completion.

Going through a winding road and several rice fields, I met a woman carrying around 40 kg of manioc on her back. I was wondering where people get the energy from to do such heavy work; what motivates them to work. And I found the answer: the will to be rid of poverty. People living here explained me about the women’s workload: due to traditional custom, women here have to work hard at jobs like carrying bamboo; carrying food from the rice fields, chopping wood and the like.

When we were walking, Thu and Tan turned back and told me: There’s someone carrying bamboo. Don’t you hear the wind in the bamboo?”. That’s really interesting! How come they could guess this from such a far distance?

As anticipated, in few minutes, we saw a woman carrying bamboo heading toward us. She was walking, no, it seemed like she was running to the bottom of the mountain. I could not believe my own eyes. How amazing their abilities are!

The three of us arrived home at 12:30 pm. I had the chance to take photos of the two sisters when they were busy cooking.

I went to the neighboring school during the beak. Luckily, A No’s classes were on. I asked him for permission to take photos of the whole class. All the teachers here live in at the school, sharing rooms like students in a dormitory. The majority of them have been teaching here for nearly 10 years. There are only 7 female teachers out of 38. To take an example, if 100 children enroll in grade 1, only 70 pupils make it to grade 3 and only 30 to grade 9.

When I was in the schoolyard, I heard someone calling my name. It was A Dac. Dac was happily playing football with his peers. He is a person who can bring happiness to himself and others around him.

The bell rang. All the pupils and teachers came to class. I went on to the two furthest communes: Dac Gia and Kon Cung.

It was hard to go to these communes, as there were many bamboo bridges and streams. However, it was a beautiful scenery. I was forced to learn how to walk across a bamboo bridge. When the bridge swayed, it was really nerve racking. I was so frightened, but it was worth trying. Now I reckon that I also have the ability to play scary sports like other people!

The two villages were quite close together, none of them yet had electricity from the grid; their only source was power from water streams that they made themselves. When I arrived it was getting dark, it was right when everyone was returning from the fields and was busy with work around the house. So I tried to just watch and take a few photos for my friends to see, and compared it to the daily work of my friends. I keep thinking about the images of women. I’ve met so many women who are vital laborers: from the fields to the home, whether children, young girls or older women.

I was returning with Thu when the last of the sun’s rays gave way to the moon and stars. The road was pitch black; the batteries in my flashlight were unreliable. Oh no, I don’t dare believe that I will be able to cross all the streams I crossed in the afternoon, and all the bamboo bridges that seem like they’re taking off. What’s more, I’m afraid of snakes, really terrified, they’ve already threatened me this afternoon. The two of us put each foot in front of the other, but felt like someone was behind us all the way; like this we went on, quickly, step by step, guiding each other, one behind the other, until we could see the ‘town’ (the committee’s electric light) finally before us. There was still one more bamboo bridge, and then we finally saw the trellises of beans before us. I've learnt many things, but a more important thing I've learnt is to "just try our best" and ultimately we will succeed … and try to find new friends in the process.

Thursday 7 October 2004

I was to leave Dac Xao feeling fondness for the people and some hesitation at going alone on foot. All the people there tried to persuade me to stay till the afternoon, then to catch a trade motorbike – a motorbike with a basket on each side that carries food to sell in the village. “Anyway, it will be alright” – that was what I said to them but indeed I was worried, and terribly frightened. Go alone, my goodness!

I was nervous of wading across the big stream that I fell into one day, of crossing the chain bridge with all my nerves rattling, of running into a snake, of being unable to cover the bad road, and of the silence of the forest. In short, I was foolishly fearful of many silly things. I was terribly frightened.
Anyway, it was time to go. Down to the slope before the Committee Office, I shouted goodbye to the women of the Medical clinic. Before me was a picture of a boy lying in the sun with a pile of cassava. Do you remember A Dac? It was that boy, scorchingly black, bright eyes, bright smile also, cutting cassava plants as quick as lighting. It was difficult to say goodbye to him. It was as if the words were stuck in my throat. Someone as talkative as me, not knowing what to say for a time. Is that believable?

At last I got to the chain bridge. I stood still for a long time, just looking at it, feeling afraid, trembling and trying to find courage. I stuck my hands on the bridge and felt my way, step by step. The fear seemed to go with the current until my determination to get to the other side won. A milestone was achieved.

I kept on going, all by myself, feeling so lonely and tired. I put my backpack down, feeling relieved. How fresh the breeze was. I sat down on the ground, enjoying the air, the breeze, and bird’s songs, all together. Everything is beautiful, wild and so desolate. My feeling of fear seemed far away. It was a memorable moment. I was able to be independent, wasn’t I?

Lifting up my backpack, I continued marching along on the red soil. Then I met an old woman: “Be quick, girl. There’s a coach before you”. I happily thanked her and eagerly strode forward. But I didn’t see any coach. “It has gone away, hasn’t it?” – I wondered anxiously. At last, my worry disappeared when I met a family from Dac Kao who had just got off the coach. Then the coach appeared. I no longer had to go on foot. How good that was! So, all roads come to an end, just keep on going and we reach our destination. So wonderful, isn’t it?
Dac k’Tan was deserted. The villagers had gone to the fields. I arrived at Dac K’Tan’s school in the short break of the last lesson. The children were playing joyfully and I wished I could be like them. I was envious, wasn’t I?

The teachers of Dac K’Tan live in temporary houses, like those of university students, but I was sure that student boarding-houses in Hanoi were in better condition. However, the life of the teacher was better than ever before, and so were their meals, thanks to the trade motor bikes. Yet, during the rainy season it wasn’t so good; this place was very inaccessible.

It was time to leave. I said goodbye to the teachers and ran down to catch a coach. Oh, my goodness, the last one had left nearly 10 minutes earlier. So, I was going on foot again. “It doesn’t matter, I have just gone on foot.” I said to myself, but still felt sad. What a pity! I popped into a small inn near the school to buy a bottle of water and a pack of biscuits, and then I kept on going. I had been going for about half an hour when I saw a vehicle going in the opposite direction. They beeped their horn and I waved to say hello. It must have looked very funny. I thought if they turned back I would ask for a lift. But they didn’t… Oh, how I wish…

I kept on going, then a roadside-inn owner called to me and said: “why all the hard work going on foot? A vehicle just went in, it will be back out in a minute. Sit down and take a rest. I will stop it so that you can ask for a lift.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. I said: “but it’s gone that way. I’ve just meet it.” “Sure, it’s inspecting these roadworks”, he replied. Before I could take another sip of water, that vehicle did come back. In that way my walking ended. Surely, we should make a wish for something when we are in need, because we never know what miracles may happen!