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| | Email this article • Print this article | The children of Vietnam
by Connie Bickman
Saving the children of Vietnam is hard work.
I watched as a two-year-old boy reached his tiny hand up to his mother's face to trace the tears flowing from her eyes. He cupped his hand and gently patted her cheek. She could no longer hold back her emotions. "Please save my little boy," she pleaded, as she told her story to the Children of Vietnam (COV) staff. The boy needed heart surgery, a $1,400 operation in Danang. They had traveled 60 miles by bus for a doctor's appointment and the young mother was anxiously awaiting to see if COV was going to pay for the surgery.
Three more mothers told their stories. A nine year old boy who also needed heart surgery, cradled his head in his arms and sobbed while he listened to his weeping mother.
Even though I couldn't understand Vietnamese, I cried with them. The cases of these two boys and two other girls, 8 and 14, were true matters of life and death.
But the news was good. COV told them they were going to pay for medical expenses and surgery for all four children. Arrangements were also made for transportation, lodging and food for those who had to travel far. Some of this money was donated by two of our volunteers. It was part of a process of decisions made every day at COV offices in Danang, saving lives, one by one.
And this was only our first day in Vietnam.
Dina Fesler and I were part of a team of volunteers from Minnesota, North Carolina, Washington D.C. and Massachusetts, observing the work of Children of Vietnam. Our itinerary was full each day, traveling miles from province to province, connecting the dots of orphanages, housing projects, hospitals, kindergartens, tutoring and street children programs, and food and educational subsidies. The incredible COV staff generously hands out random acts of kindness every day to the poor and needy of Vietnam.
Children of Vietnam, which celebrates its 10th anniversary this year, was started by Ben Wilson as he was facing retirement after a long corporate career. According to Ben, he didn't play golf and was worried he wouldn't have enough to do to keep busy. So, at age 65, he started COV. There's no such thing as boredom in Ben's life these days. He travels to Vietnam several times each year to work with his staff there. When he's back home in North Carolina, he keeps busy raising funds, a job that will never end.
Dina and I traveled to Vietnam for Children's Culture Connection, (www.childrenscultureconnection.org) a non-profit that raises funds for 12 children's charities, including Children of Vietnam. In less than a week, we visited orphanages and kindergartens where COV provides everything from new buildings and structural renovations to food and milk programs. We visited sick and disabled children who suffer from blindness, missing limbs, deformities, and the effects of Agent Orange used in the Vietnam War, and saw how COV is providing them with medical assistance and limb prothesis. We visited schools funded by COV, witnessed their tutoring programs that help high school kids get into college. We gave new bicycles to 20 kids in a village school so they won't have to drop out, because now they can get to and from school faster and spend more time helping support their family farms.
And we visited children living with their families in tin-roofed shacks, wrapped in plastic bag siding, that COV will replace with permanent cement block houses. Out of the seven houses we inspected, one was turned down. That was hard, but COV said they wanted to see if there was a family in that area, with children, who needed the house more before they made their final decision. Their focus is on the children.
We toured a one-room, dirt-floor house with three young children who slept with their parents on a wood-slat bed, covered by a woven grass mat. Their 93-year-old grandmother slept in the bed next to them. She was crippled and transferred from her wheelchair to bed by her son, who could barely lift her. The mother had been hit by a car recently and while she was in the hospital, her husband was also in an accident on his way to visit her. Neither of them could work because of their injuries. Their house was patched together with old tin, boards and plastic. It rained through the cracks in the tin ceiling and water seeped through holes in the walls. The kitchen was a lean-to, added on to the back of the house. A fire pit with two kettles resting on ashes, was outside. The family was dressed in their best clothes and the house was clean with the few items they possessed orderly in place. A wood pole, about three feet long with half a dozen hangers, along with a plastic basket, held all of the family's clothing.
Old women and men with deep wrinkles in their weathered faces, along with neighborhood children, gathered to see what this delegation of people was doing in their community. We gathered the family in front of the house and the COV staff told them they were going to build them a new house. Before the words were out, the mother broke down and began to cry. She held her children near her and tried to smile amidst her tears.
There was constant chatter from the neighbors, combined with smiles and nods of approval. When we walked to the local "store" and signed a waiver to have rice and cooking oil allocated to the family each month, the husband quickly wiped his tears away as he hoisted the bag of rice on his shoulder, trying to hide his emotion and relief.
On behalf of Children's Culture Connection, Dina and I pledged to raise money to pay for a house for this family. It only costs $1,000 to build a cement structure house. COV determined this an urgent case so construction has already begun and the house will be completed by the end of March. Funds will be replaced into their building fund as soon as we raise the money. Imagine - only $1,000 for a new house and how that will affect the lives of this entire family, physically and emotionally.
Before I left on my trip I asked my brother in Phoenix, AZ, if he had any suggestions for me while in Vietnam. He was stationed there during the war and he replied that his memories were not pleasant and he had no interest in ever returning. In the 35 years since the war he's never talked about his experiences in Vietnam, but he wanted to see photographs when I got back. I did photograph a couple of abandoned airplane hangars and bunkers, but other than that I found the countryside to be beautiful and peaceful. The people are friendly and hospitable, and they are working hard to improve their lives despite the hardships of life in the Third World and the lingering after-effects of the war. I felt safe and welcomed everywhere we went.
Although most of our time was with COV in Danang and the surrounding countryside, Dina and I spent a day in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) where we rented motorbikes and, with another volunteer who was born in Vietnam but now lives in Boston, wove our way through insane traffic while seeing the sights. In most cases there are no traffic lights or even stop signs, so when you arrive at an intersection, you literally weave your way through the maze of motorbikes and cars. I don't think even "Minnesota nice" could compare with the politeness of these drivers as traffic filtered through the busy streets. I think my brother would see a much different Vietnam if he ever chose to return, and I know he approves of the compassionate work of Ben Wilson and his staff.
Dina summed up our trip nicely by saying, "Honestly, I can't begin to describe the impact this organization is having on the lives of so many children. I am truly humbled. It's a privilege for Children's Culture Connection to support Children of Vietnam in their efforts and I can't imagine a week more well spent."
I couldn't agree more.
It's a good thing Ben Wilson never played golf.
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