After asking her if everything was alright, she proceeded to tell me about her Italian lover who hadn’t responded to her emails in six months after leaving the city and proclaiming he would return in two weeks.

Broken love affairs are difficult at the best of times, but even in a town filled with promiscuity, one night stands and a string of broken hearts longer than the Ho Chi Minh trail, I couldn’t help but feel for this young girl who had simply been used for a little bit of fun. Thuy shared the following email with me, and was content when I asked her if I could share it.

Girls – bring out the kleenex

i have just one thing that made me happy honey
that is my realy love. I missing you so much. I want hear in your word.
i want you said to me the true that you are still in love in me or no?
i have feeling alone here in this city not because i have no friends
because i missing only you honey
I want to here what it your feeling
i have feeling that you want make me far away from you honey
not letter not call
so all the free times you are thinking not thing about me?
that ok tell me traid what it you want honey?
i want here really clear you want to do the true.
where is your love for me? i don’t think so!
The world is not always good and i very sad for you.
If I choice not be!
The true love never have the cost honey?
maybe it late to tell you
it realy true.
That i’m in love in you!
hug

After telling her everything would be alright, Thuy hurriedly packed her bags and thanked me for listening. Having been absorbed writing her email and listening to Westlife, she had forgotten the time and was running late for work at italian restaurant ‘Pendolassco’. As she jumped on her bike and pedalled into the distance, I felt certain this wouldn’t be her last bout of dust mask tears.

I then went to visit my friend Quan and told him about the young girl. After sharing a few stories of broken hearts and empty wallets (watch out guys), he likened love to instant noodles – millions of packets on offer, cheap, quick, tasteless and unfulfilling. He said that to really know love is to spend time preparing, making sure you have all the ingredients, everything goes together well and then not only will you enjoy it, but no matter how much it changes each time it is made, you will look forward to the same meal time and time again.

As I contemplate going back to a place I love, or perhaps a place I’m purely drawn to for personal reasons (pic from where my Dad was during the war and we visited on last year’s visit… we will remember them), I’m feeling a little excited. But it’s a different excitement from what I normally feel when I head back ‘home’.

I’m going to do some writing. Everyone knows I write, but it is a rare occasion that I have written while on a trip because I focus too much on what everyone else wants to do and not so much on myself. But this time it’s going to be a little different.

I’ve spent so much time in this part of the world, and the path I tread will be one I have done many times. So I’m going to take a little bit of a different focus this time, and calling it the ‘awaken the senses’ tour.

I’m going to focus each day on a different sense, and really absorb what is happening around me. I think most of us are so lucky that we sometimes get a little distracted and miss so much of what goes on around us – me included.

So I’m going to reawaken my senses – sight, sound, taste, touch and smell are going to take on a whole new meaning in crazy Asia. Some of those senses are already being irritated and I can quite honestly do without – durian, fish sauce and that musty urine stench after fresh rain (I know should have stopped there).

So you’ll be hearing about what I see, what I taste, what I hear, what I smell, what I touch - I’ll awaken your senses through culinary flavours, images of the bikes of burden that circle Ben Thanh, the hands of the Sunrise children as they receive the 30kg of gifts I have for them and the sounds of the Delta as it wakens from its slumber in the wee hours of the morning.

Enjoy being awakened. Asia has a way of making one feel alive. I’m just going to try and experience it in a whole new way. What better way than one sense at a time.

Enjoy the journey.

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.

Helmets are now compulsory in Vietnam, so I had a little protection when I headed into the district of Thu Duc – about a 45 minute one way trip from the centre of town. As if the helmet wasn´t enough, I was in the safe hands of Sr Marie Thao, Executive Director of the Friends for Street Children Association. So with a sister and a helmet, I was assured of some protection, divine or not, from the chaos of Ho Chi Minh´s traffic.

Now I wasn´t exactly on God´s mission, but I was on a mission of my own to see first hand the work being done by FFSC to improve the living conditions of children at risk. With a city growing so rapidly, there was bound to be cracks, and FFSC is assisting by catching those who fall through.

Rural immigrants from all over the country are heading to HCM as investment drives the economic development of the city. The majority of these immigrants arrive in HCM illiterate, with little capital, no job and no place to live. FFSC actively heads out into key areas of the city to offer children and their families warm shelter, development classes, recreational activities, vocational training courses, sponsorship, scolarships, healthcare and psycho-social protection.

Spending some time at the centre, speaking with the staff, mothers, children and volunteers, there was a common thread. It was the pride of independence, freedom from a life of scavenging and a life living in temporary shelters by railway trains and rivers.

Flipping through a project memory book, I spoke with one of the social workers about an image of some of the mothers standing at a blackboard with a whole heap of faces. The first face on the board had the biggest smile and as the faces went along, the faces got sadder and sadder. Each of the women were required to go along the board and had to place their name on the face they felt reflected themselves since being involved with FFSC. In the photo, every one of the women was smiling and waiting their turn to only put their name at the first face.

And it wasn´t only on the board, every child and adult I met during my short visit had a smile. The children were holding hands. The teachers were providing additional tutorials. The orphans were reading books. And young women who first went to the centre when they were children, were now managing the office or running their own business through the support of loan services provided by FFSC. It was obvious – this place was providing opportunity and changing lives.

Back we head to the hub of the organisation, which oversees nine centres, 55 staff and 1500 children and their families around the city.

After a quick prayer (I knew there was something I was supposed to do before taking that first spoonful) and lunch of pho and rambutans, Sr Marie thanked me for the visit, threw on her gloves and helmet and waved goodbye as she headed off to another meeting. As she flew into the sea of bikes, I knew this was one face that stood out in the crowd. And would never be without a smile.

I walked away with a heap of gifts and an order of 1500 pictures for an exhibition next year. Any interested supporters who´d like to support Sr Thao in a flying visit, please drop me a line.

As a final note, I´d just like to add how Sr Thao flew on the bandwagon of me and my marital status. Having met her last year, she asked me if I had a boyfriend this time around. At 37, it´s not looking too hopeful for me – the whole of Asia is starting to question my sanity. When I said that I didn´t, she nodded knowingly.

¨I understand why.¨

How could a nun I have met on two short occasions understand why I am single, when I don´t even understand it myself.

¨Because your heart is too big for one.¨

So hence lies the answer. It floored me. It´s kept me up until 12.00am when I´ve got to be up at 4.00am. And I guess it´s given me something to think about. I do have a big heart. I´ve let it get in the way too much in my life. But I think I´m finally using it the right way, and it´s working overtime on this current journey I am travelling.

I hope to find some more smiles as I head north to genetic disorder clinics… there´s still plenty more gloves to go around.

Ho Chi Minh no longer reflects the romantic Vietnamese imagery of bicycles, ao dais, and old women with betel stained teeth sitting on every corner. It´s been cleaned up, modernised, buildings have got taller, skirts have got shorter and the rickshaws have gone.

If you brave the hidden alleyways, you can still find the Ho Chi Minh of old. An old woman hunched over a steaming pot of pho, three small children playing marbles, rubbish collectors, fruit stands, clothing strung between white washed walls, a lone birdcage with a copycat minor whistling away: meander and you will certainly find pockets of yesteryear.

Some things never change. I still have the ice in my warm beer. My squatting thighs are back on track. I still have to throw the toilet paper in the rubbish bin. My ears are assured of the dulcet tones of Celine Dion as I wander down Bui Vien. I can hear the bells of the masseuses as they cycle their way through the streets. I can still hop on the portable scales and register ´overweight´ at 56kg. And best of all, I can still have a beer and a 45 minute massage and walk out with change from $3.

I am in awe of the speed of economic development in this city, appreciative of what has stayed and thankful I had the opportunity to watch it grow up into a vibrant, energetic and flourishing metropolis.

I don´t know whether my birth made the family happy or worried about my future life, happy or unhappy?

I heard that it was only my mother with me when she gave birth to me. My dad just dropped by sometimes to greet and to give my mum some money.

Time has slowly gone by. What has to come will come. When I was 14, she left me for her roomate without returning. I grew up with love and good care of father Minh and mother Phung. Luckily, I was able to be on school grade 2 even though the family had difficult circumstances. Then I became a foster child when I was in grade 2.

I try to study hard and well in order to make my parents and foster parents happy. If I have a wish, I would wish my parents good health, happiness. For myself, if I will be a successful person, I will help poor children and take good care of my parents.

I hope that everyone has own parents, friends, relatives, and is able to play and to study.

Simple wishes. Simple dreams.

When I wish upon a star, my dreams come true.