As I walked home yesterday in flood waters (you’ll be happy to know the sun is out today and the typhoon heading south) I reflected on the remarkable day I was soon to complete.
I’d started out early, capturing in words the early scenes of a city waking up (to come in a later post). I headed off to say morning to my friend Quan, and mentioned that I was going to visit the Christina Noble Children’s Foundation. To come to Ho Chi Minh, you cannot fail to have your heart softened by the street beggars and lost innocence found on every corner. So having read Christina’s biography, Bridge across my Sorrows and follow-up book, Mama Tina, I decided to go out and learn a little more about what the organisation does for the children of Vietnam.
Quan suggested I might like to also visit Education for Development, an organisation supporting Vietnamese social organisations and institutions that deliver direct educational services to disadvantaged children in Vietnam. Uninvited, I rang the doorbell and was welcomed in by the country director, Abegail Schwartz. Originally from Namibia, Abegail has just commenced her two year contract with EFD and she kindly spent half an hour of her valuable time educating me about the work they do throughout the country.
It was then my day changed. Abegail gave me an address somewhere in the corner recesses of district 3 and said I might be interested in meeting the nun who resides there. Some would say I could do with a little divine intervention, but I was intrigued by the referral and jumped back on my bike, dodging the rush hour traffic and found myself once again ringing a door bell, uninvited.
As the gate opened an inch, the first thing that struck me about Sister Marie Le Thi Thao was her smile. It was a smile that could melt the blackest heart and I instantly felt a deep sense of compassion and generosity in everything Sister Marie did. Explaining why I was there, although not really sure why myself, Sister Marie welcomed me in to her humble home. 140/4 Vo Thi Sau Street is just another house and Sister Marie is but one in a city of over 12 million people. But from this hub, Sister Marie manages nine centres around Ho Chi Minh, assisting 1500 street children and their families. At eight of the centres, they teach the children and mothers, quite often deserted by the father, to embroider, sew, draw and quilt.
As I found myself intently listening to Sister Marie’s stories, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was there. I had plenty to do, and yet felt drawn to finish the journey that had led me to her door. It was a meeting of minds and hearts, and what may have been an idea before leaving Australia, Sister Marie and her 1500 street children may now be the catalyst for a new colourful weave in my rug.
Waving goodbye to Sister Marie and promising to come back tomorrow to purchase some gifts, I headed back to see Quan and thank him for starting my day off so well. He then said he thought I’d like to meet a young woman sitting in the restaurant next door. I then spent the next three hours with Mua Nguyen, and knew that somehow, it wouldn’t be our last chat.
Mua is Vietnamese born. Her family fled, as boat people, in the early 80s during the communist revolution. She covers her disfigured hand, a constant reminder of the journey they endured, before settling in Sydney. At 15, Mua spoke no English, had little education having quit school at a young age, and had arrived in a foreign country with little money or support. Yet, after 12 months, Mua was fluent enough to commence Year 9.
A few years ago, Mua decided she wanted to come back to her birthland for three months and travelled the length of the country. While attending a conference, she noticed a young boy separate from the other large group of children, unsmiling with sorrow in his eyes. The memory stays with her to this day. When she returned back to Australia, Mua shared her memoirs about her journey with friends, colleagues and family. One of her friends sent her a joke email, saying if he gave her $1 000 000, what would she do with it. Her response: to bring a smile to the boy. Not quite ready to hand over $1million, her friend gave her $150, and from there, One Heart Education Foundation was founded.
The Mekong Delta is one of the most beautiful parts of Vietnam, and also one of the poorest. During our time together, Mua shared with me many stories about the families and children of the rivers, all of which would soften the heart. One Heart has been established as a legal entity in Vietnam, and is supporting financial sponsorship for 70 children in the Delta, allowing them to have an education they otherwise would not be able to afford.
On the flight over, I watched Evan Almighty. Exaggerated, as all Hollywood blockbusters tend to be, its storyline really exemplifies the work Mua is doing. In the film, Evan asks God to help him create change. God hands him the timber, the hammers and the animals to build an ark. God just didn’t hand Evan the change he had asked for, but rather, gave him the opportunity to create the change himself.
For $4000 a year, Mua and her team of local volunteers are providing 70 children with an opportunity for a future and most importantly, are providing them with dignity and pride in themselves.
Le is 9. Her mother and father abandoned her as a baby and she has been brought up by her grandmother. When Mua first met Le, her face was covered by a conical hat, a scarf wrapped around her jaw and there was no eye contact. After looking under the hat, Mua was shocked to see Le’s skin peeling from her face, abscesses forming. Mua asked the grandmother if she could take Le for medical treatment: ïf you can feed her, take her”. Över the next four days, Mua spent hours talking with Le. As a psychologist, she wanted to understand the impact the young girls life had had on her. Extremely shy, Le finally opened up about her work as a ’sales woman’. From 6-11am each morning, she would walk the dusty village paths selling cakes. She would then go to school for two hours, falling asleep at the desk as a result of exhaustion and malnutrition. On Sundays, she would do a second job of minding the boats, for a total of 10000 dong, approximately 70c’. Not per hour, per day.
Le is one of the children now supported through One Heart. By providing financial support, Le no longer needs to do her Sunday job and has more energy to commit to a longer school day. Her grades have improved, the hat has now lifted, and her lips now curl into smiles where sorrow once was.
I asked Mua why she does this? When first arriving in Australia, she had nothing. Through the support of one her teachers, Mua was provided with an opportunity. She believes that education is the only hope some of these children will ever have of breaking the cycle of poverty. Meeting with the families is quite often extremely difficult, with the poverty levels extremely low in this part of Vietnam. Many of the families do not want their children to go to school. Why, when they can be earning money? They also do not believe they deserve the right to be educated, as they are poor. Mua’s philosophy is to not only provide financial support, but to educate the families that although they may be poor, they can create their own change. And for me, it was also about creating hope. Many poor families, no matter where they are in the world, are accepting of their situation. The children will work from a young age, with no education, fall pregnant and so the cycle will continue. One Heart is providing these children and their families with an opportunity to break the cycle of poverty.
Taking her own personal experiences and those of exemplary role models in her life, Mua’s model for One Heart is exceptional, as it ensures all resources are local and older children are encouraged to tutor the younger children. 27 of the children have completed junior school and are now in senior high school. And yet, a few years ago, like Le, they had no hope.
So as I walked home, again up to my calves in water, I reflected on my extraordinary day. Requiring no big banners, no huge marketing team, nor asking for recognition or thanks, Sister Marie and Mua are remarkable examples of how change can be created through passion, compassion and commitment.
As Mua and I reflected, we agreed that life is all about challenging one self and being afraid. This is what stretches us as human beings and what makes us realise our potential – that which is hidden inside us, but so few ever achieve.
Not being religious, I don’t think God was giving me what I wanted, but I certainly feel the universe has provided me with an opportunity, and now it is up to me to do something with it.
Opportunity – grab it and run. You never know where the next uninvited doorbell ring may lead you.
Tina,
What a most empowering and moving account of what one person can do to change the world.
Thank you!
Carol
bandana says : I absolutely agree with this !