Lost in Translation - Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Some of the women made great things from coconut palm leaves. It was very like working with harakeke (flax)

The woman on the right is my "counterpart" Ms Thuy

Tuan (my interpreter) thought it was funny to take this picture of me in part of the workshop that had gone completely wrong. He said this is what Robyn looks like when it is a disaster! The sandwich in front of me is the one that made me sick. Yummy!

One of the fans on the back wall came to bits and was scattered all over the back of the room while I was talking- fortunately nobody was killed. Do you like the special chairs?

Lost in Translation - Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Warning – in this blog I blather on and on about my teaching tribulations – stop reading now if you do not have a high boredom threshold!!!


On Monday and Tuesday I taught my first three workshop sessions at our first three day gathering for a ‘core group’ of teachers, principals and academics who will be supporting the development of other teachers in the future. My workshops could aptly be described as like the proverbial curate’s egg -“good in parts”. I had worked hard on them, trying to ensure that they were much more interactive and practical than my conference presentations but unfortunately my inexperience in Vietnamese culture and education methods, as well as the difficulties of presenting through an interpreter, resulted in some significant problems.

My first workshop was on the adults’ role in creativity. I was reasonably pleased with some aspects of this one. The teachers were responsive to some of the ideas and particpated well in most of the activities. On Tuesday I presented workshops on Multiple Intelligences and Scaffolding which were a bit of a disaster. Despite my misgivings I had been directed to present these two theory heavy workshops in one three hour session. I had too much content and rushed to finish the first one so I could cram in the second – a bad decision! I think that I totally confused many of the participants. I was very disappointed in myself and quite despondent afterwards.

There is always an element of dissonance between what I think I am teaching and what is actually being received by the participants, but in this situation, compounded by cultural differences in philosophy and experience, as well as translation difficulties, this became extreme. I fear that at times I was talking absolute gibberish. Not having the ability to participate effectively in the discussions, to listen in to conversations between groups of students or to pick up the nuances of their verbal and non-verbal communication drives me crazy. Sometimes, when the participants’ responses make it apparent that vital concepts have been misunderstood it seems impossible to find a path to clarity. At this stage I am not at all confident that my contributions have even achieved a level of neutral impact – I am concerned that by causing confusion or misunderstanding of the core concepts they may have actually been detrimental for the participants. I need to discover ways to handle this aspect better.

One of my disappointments is that I receive absolutely no feedback from my counterpart. At no point after my presentations has she offered any comment whatsoever. Efforts to find out how she feels about them have been largely unproductive. I have a horrible feeling that this might be a case of “if you can’t think of something nice to say then don’t say anything at all” but perhaps I am being paranoid. This lack of comment is disconcerting and at times isolating. It certainly has not helped my feelings of confidence of contributed to any sense of partnership. I sorely miss my Wintec colleagues who care enough about our programme and each other to provide useful comments and suggestions.

During the workshops I tried a range of strategies to get the participants actively involved. Some of these were quite successful. They were responsive to activities that involved video and photographs, structured group discussions, role plays, quizzes, creative movement activities and to some extent, ones that involved individual writing but anything that required informal discussion in pairs or with the whole group failed miserably. They seem very resistant to anything where they are required to speak off the cuff preferring instead to have time to prepare written answers. When reporting back on these they are confident and effusive, sometimes to the point of verbosity – when they have the microphone they are not going to give it up for anyone! This can create real problems. As one woman spoke on and on Tuan was whispering to me that she was talking "rubbish about a completely different topic" but it was impossible for me to break into her stream or to use elements of it to bring it back to the subject.

Humor is another problem. My attempts at jokes and asides, translated through Tuan were met with blank silence but I did get some laughs by acting the goat during role plays and creative movement activities. I don’t think (I hope!) that they were hostile to me but I do think that they find me strange and at times incomprehensible. Apparently past workshops have consisted almost entirely of “chalk and talk” methods where the leader reads lengthy sections of directives from the curriculum so I guess that it is not surprising that they found some of my style challenging and unfathomable.

Sometimes my work here feels like a process of ‘Chinese whispers’. The message that I am trying to convey comes back to me a in a way that I can identify some of the content but the meaning has changed so much that it is unrecognizable. For example I supported my counterpart in the development of her workshop on questioning. She presented some interesting material on questioning techniques and, with encouragement from me, included some active learning elements. During the workshop she appeared to be successfully challenging the predominant teaching practice here in which teachers almost exclusively use teacher directed question and answer sessions to test children’s knowledge. She spoke of things such as using questions to encourage children to explore ideas, analyze and think creatively. I was therefore very surprised when during participants reports back from their activities it became apparent that not only had the students almost universally ignored the theory that she had presented, reverting to their familiar directive approach, but that she herself was supporting their beliefs. For example a teacher in a video clip was asking children questions about flowers. One of the questions was “what is your favorite flower?” to which the children answered “red ones” and “blue ones”. This was sharply criticized. Apparently she should have corrected the children and told them they must answer with the name of the flower. At this point I felt despairing. It seems that despite all of our discussions the material that she presented was only rhetoric. When it came to application in practice the traditional methods of teacher controlled, preplanned and directed lessons was strongly upheld.

My role here is to “assist not insist”. I am aiming to expose the teachers to new ideas and to provoke discussion and debate but I am not sure whether I will ultimately be in successful. It seems that the concepts I bring with me are so foreign that they are inaccessible. It feels like when the ideas I speak of are filtered through their experiences and beliefs the resulting understanding is changed unrecognizably. Perhaps someone else with different skills than me would be more successful but at this stage I feel somewhat out-of-my-depth and unsure on how to proceed. I am to repeat these workshops six more times so hopefully I will be able to make them more successful but I am struggling to feel optimistic about the possibility.

I have for a long time intellectually known that knowledge is socially constructed but living here as an “outsider” I am having the opportunity to experience this in a very real way. I am acutely aware that all I believe is a construction of ideas that fits within my culture. I knew when I came here that I would learn far more than I would teach – this is proving to be very true. Despite all of my misgivings and worries I am still very glad that I came. Living and working in a culture that is so different from those in New Zealand brings rewards that could not be gained in any other way. I do believe that it will make me more aware and stronger.

On top of all that I have contracted a nasty stomach bug (probably related to the warm luncheon meat sandwiches that I felt obliged to eat at the workshop yesterday) that has kept me home close to the bathroom all day today but I am recovering quickly. I am sorry to write such a long rave about my tribulations with teaching but, in the absence of people to talk with, it gives me a place to reflect on my experiences. I also aim for this to be a real account of the ups and downs of living this life rather than just a cheerful travelogue but I promise to write a more interesting entry about my recent travels with Donna soon. It was great having her here for a couple of days.

Getting to Know the Neighborhood and the Neighbors.- July 13, 2008

Anne was surprised to find Vietnamese wine on the shelf but it was a little early in the day to sample it!

Yes - I know another haircut is overdue but I am working up the courage to try again

Getting to Know the Neighborhood and the Neighbors.- July 13, 2008

I had another lovely day today. Anne and I decided it was time for a decent bike ride so after a Vietnamese sleep-in (6:30) I biked to her house and we set off to ride over the bridge to the other side of the harbor. This relatively new bridge, built at considerable cost, is one of the longest in Vietnam. There is not yet much on the other side apart from quarries and sand hills but enormous billboards promise much more to come. It is destined to be an area of resorts and industry.

On the other side we rode down rutted tracks to visit a small village. It is great to get out of the city because in the rural areas life is so different. People in this village were living in tiny wooden houses and had sandy yards surrounded by rough stick fences. They seemed astonished to see us on their road and called out “foreigner” in Vietnamese to each other and “hello” to us as we made our way through the village. I would have loved to take photographs but it did not seem appropriate.

We considered riding back around the harbor but fortunately good sense prevailed and we went back the way we had come. The day became very hot and a strong wind made getting back quite a challenge. Our ride covered about 20 km which was plenty in the heat. My bike went really well handling the rough terrain with ease. I really like my hydraulically sprung seat! Thanks Chris, Anita, Tim and Laree – the bike is fantastic.

On the Quy Nhon side of the bridge there is a large area where the harbor is divided into fish farms. Small islands with houses, cemeteries and restaurants are linked with paths on narrow raised dykes and flimsy bridges. On the way back we stopped at one of the delightful little restaurants for a drink. We would like to have explored the area more but were unsure about which parts are private property. We decided that we will return to the restaurant a few times so we become known and hopefully we will get permission to have a good look around.

From the bridge we had good views of the fishing nets. They are an amazing sight. I have not yet been able to capture the essence of them with my camera. Suspended above the water, delicately colored with green and golden tones they have an ethereal quality that seems to get lost in every picture I attempt. I am hoping that one day I will have the opportunity to photograph them from the water – maybe that will be more successful.

After a great lunch of more fresh spring rolls I returned home to discover that the power which went off early in the morning was still not working. I think that this time it was because of some work they are doing to remove poles as part of the beautification project. It was not turned on again until well after dark. Not being able to turn on the fans made for a sweltering afternoon and cooking by candlelight was an adventure.

I have been trying to become more integrated with my neighborhood and to this end have been leaving my gate open whenever I am able to over the last few days. Most of the neighbors spend a lot of time sitting on their stoops chatting with one another. I feel that our habit of keeping the gate locked at times puts up an insurmountable barrier and has prevented me from getting to know people. Today I left it open as I washed my bike, watered the plants and disposed of another smelly dead rat. It worked like a charm. I noticed the woman from across the road lurking about the gate and went and asked her with sign language if she knew when the power would return. She soon invited me over to her house and when I asked her what work she did she showed me, in her lounge, a mysterious collection of dozens of plastic bags with a grey damp grey substance inside. I could not even begin to imagine what they were for. She disappeared into the back of her house and returned with large bags of dried fungus. She is growing and drying edible mushrooms.

She then led me by the hand upstairs to admire her extensive orchid collection. We had reached the limits of our sign language conversation but fortunately her daughter, who speaks some English arrived, and we were able to converse more. The daughter, a young teacher, and I have arranged to meet regularly to help each other with language. I am so pleased because I am very keen to get to know more Vietnamese people. It is lovely having the other volunteers to socialize with but I certainly don’t want to go back to New Zealand having only spent time with kiwis.

My Sai Gon Delta Trip – 15th June 2008

I was grateful that this was not our ferry

The coconut palms that have their fruit "downstairs"

Coconuts for sale

A shrimp farmer's hut

and a shrimp farmer's house

Fresh fish is delivered through the window into the market

A temple for a whale

Not my favorite beach!

Houses in one of the villages - I particularly enjoyed the bridges

Mr Minh on one of the more exciting bridges we crossed - those planks were very flexible!

Lunch for the road workers. These are the sort of little fish that I have eaten several times.

My Sai Gon Delta Trip – 15th June 2008

When I was in HCMC I went for a day trip down to the Sai Gon Delta. Apart from an entry about Monkey Island I have not written up my notes about the day and have decided to belatedly do so. I choose to go to the Sai Gon delta rather than the more popular Mekong for several reasons. It seemed with only a day to spare that it might be a better bet than a rushed bus trip down to the Mekong and back. I was also attracted to the idea of getting away from the tourist crowds and having an individual tour with Mr Minh. Aspects of the day turned out to be interesting but I am not sure that I would make the same decision again.

We set off early in the morning on Mr Minh’s trusty little motorbike heading south-east from the city. For a long way we traveled through an area where a new city is being built. Multitudes of new high-rise apartments are clustered together in groups. Each group had up to a dozen identical buildings. This area is being created for the affluent and looked much more like Singapore than what I have seen of Viet Nam. The immaculate, sterile streets did not really appeal to me but Mr Minh clearly saw this as evidence of the great strides towards modernization that are being made by Viet Nam.

We caught a car ferry over a broad section of the river as we made our way south. When I took a photo of a woman wearing a conical hat on the ferry Mr Minh told me why they are still so popular. As well as being cool and shady they are effective rain shelters, useful as a fan and can be turned into a vessel for carrying water or produce from the market. They are still commonly worn by many people and are very much part of the fabric of Viet Nam. I have (so far) resisted buying one for myself. Sometimes I see busloads of tourists wearing them but somehow they just look a bit too silly on western heads.

The landscape changed as we made our way down the islands of the delta. For a long way we traveled through swampy land that was divided between shrimp farms and a type of coconut that grows in water. Tiny huts built of palm fronds were dotted about on small islands in the shrimp farms. I thought that these people must be making only making a subsistence living but Mr Minh assured me that the farmers are very rich. The huts are so they can sleep beside the ponds to protect them from thieves. The frond houses are also preferred by many people because they let the breeze through and are cooler than the concrete houses. Every time we passed a big house, some of which are quite palatial, he declared that it would be owned by a shrimp farmer.

The coconuts are grown for the fronds and the fruit. I was confused by Minh’s description – ordinary coconuts have the fruit “upstairs” but these ones have them “downstairs”. At first I thought that he was talking about the roots but he meant that the fruit grows near the water level. We stopped to see some of the coconuts being sold beside the road. They are clustered together in spheres about two feet in diameter. The milk and flesh are consumed and the husks are used for the cooking burners.

As we neared the mangrove jungle the road became increasingly rough and potholed. I think they have given up on maintaining this road because a new one is in the process of being built alongside it. At times the potholes were so numerous that they became the road. By the time we got to Monkey Island my bum was certainly ready for a rest from the motorbike seat. I have no idea how you spent three days on the back of a bike Nick. I have already described Monkey Island – apart from being a welcome relief from sitting on the unsprung seat it does not have a lot to recommend it. I dutifully admired all of the dusty exhibits in a small museum. I have now seen enough tatty stuffed animals to last me several lifetimes. The toilet behind the museum was certainly the most daunting that I have had to face yet but “when you have got to go ….”

The mangrove jungle was pretty amazing. They are tall trees, 30 – 40 feet high with densely tangled aerial root systems. Looking at them bought to mind the war movies of soldiers struggling through the swamps with the rifles held over their heads and small wooden canoes silently wending through little channels. Apparently many prisoners were held here during the war and afterwards it was used for re-education camps. There are still prisons in the area. Given the terrain and the crocodiles and snakes it would be a very difficult place to escape from.

As we neared Can Gio we passed through a desolate area of salt farms. The people live in long, low frond huts amongst the murky evaporation ponds. It was easy to see why most of the salt that we buy here is quite brown with a lot of grit included. It looked like a very hard way to make a living.

Near to a fishing village we passed a modern temple where fishermen seek protection from the sea gods. In the village there was another temple complete with the skeleton of a large sea creature. I think from the skeleton and photos that it was some sort of a whale but Mr Minh’s explanation was much more mystical. Apparently when it was beached it created a great deal of interest and a temple was built in its honor. I found the story a little difficult to follow but I think that it is now worshipped in some way.

The fish market in the village was fascinating. The boats unloaded directly into the market – you certainly could not get fresher fish! Some of the locals seemed a bit annoyed as Mr Minh grabbed various flapping or scuttling creatures from their bowls for me to admire.

We made our way down to the beach. I think that this was expected to be the highlight of my day so I tried hard to be appreciative but it was pretty horrible. A long stretch of grubby, rubbish strewn, sand led to the murky brown sea. I was very pleased that I had already said that I did not want to swim – it looked positively toxic. Hundreds of Vietnamese people were enjoying a day at the beach. Despite the vast area they were all crammed into a small space with tightly packed umbrellas, tables and chairs. In this space they were happily talking, sleeping, eating and drinking copious amounts of beer. All of the rubbish from their activities was thrown around their feet. It was a most insalubrious place; hot, smelly, filthy and expensive. It costs 100 VND for a chair. I am afraid that I chose not to even sit down so we headed back to HCMC earlier than we had planned.

On the way back we stopped to look at some of the villages built in the jungle and on the edges of the river. I was fascinated by the inventive little wooden bridges built over the canals. At first I was reluctant to cross over them concerned that they were made for people of Vietnamese stature but Mr Minh urged me to give it a try so, deciding that the worst that could happen was a fall into the muddy brown water, I made it safely across and back. The people in the villages seemed very poor. Some of their little stick and frond houses seemed so insubstantial that it was hard to imagine them surviving any rough weather. I felt a bit uncomfortable having a tourist’s look at their lives but they responded warmly and were keen for me to photograph their children.

We also spent some time watching two of the road workers catching fish in the drain beside the road. One waded along extracting little fish from a long net which he then tossed for the other to catch in a bucket. Apparently they do this every day and get enough fish to feed themselves well.

I would not describe most of this area as beautiful but it was an interesting day which gave me an opportunity to see another aspect of this fascinating country.

The Real Fountain City - July 11, 2008

This dot in the distance is my fish kite when it was half-way up

Some of my enthusiastic helpers

The Real Fountain City - July 11, 2008

We now have in Quy Nhon a truly amazing fountain. It has been built as part of the city’s beautification for the festival at the beginning of August. Like many others in the city I have been down to watch it for the last two evenings and it is a sight to behold.

A pool almost as big as an Olympic swimming pool has been constructed in a nearby park. In it are hundreds of jets that display a seemingly endless array of synchronized fountains which are brightly lit with many colors. Last night on my own, and this evening with Anne and Adeline, I have joined the large crowd of sightseers admiring this creation. I have particularly enjoyed the reaction of the crowds – in unison people gasp and exclaim oohs and aahs in response to the changing display. It is great fun. Some people have been complaining about the expense but it has certainly proven to be a great entertainment for the locals and will probably become a tourist attraction. I tried to take some photos but without a tripod they were not particularly successful.

In the park there were also people letting off big white paper lanterns lit with a flame. These glowed brightly as they rose high into the sky. I would love to have a try with one. In he festival I am particularly looking forward a flower and lantern show at the lagoon. One of the advantages of being so much taller than almost everyone here is that it is easy for me to get a good view even in a crowd!

Yesterday evening I also decided to join the kite flying crowd. Most evenings in the park 40 or 50 people fly kites. I have been hesitant to join in because I was worried that I would get tangled with the others and create absolute chaos but I finally decided to give it a go. Unfortunately these are not the beautiful handcrafted kites of Kite Runner fame. Almost all are commercially made from bright nylon but they do look great massed in the sky. My kite is a large blue and orange shark. I found a place in the field with as much space as possible and got it to fly without any problems. I was soon joined by a large group of children. They were keen to help me and to have turns holding the string. I had in my pocket a smiley face stamp that Jenny had given me and this proved a great hit too. Within a few minutes dozens of kids, from babies to teens were running around with green smiley faces decorating their hands and forearms.

Before long some adults came to join me too. I was flying my kite with only half of the very long string out because I didn’t want to spend ages winding it up but this was not good enough for one woman who clearly decided that I didn’t know what I was doing. She took it from me and insisted on letting it out to its full length before returning it triumphantly to me. It was a lovely time – even though I could not converse beyond the usual “Hello, what’s you name?, where you from?, how old are you?” conversation it felt great to be joining in a communal activity. All of the kites are only of the single string variety – it would be great to see their reaction to a two string kite.

This evening we went to a different small restaurant for ban xeo (yummy prawn pancakes). I picked up the tab for all four people, 20,000 VND (about 40 cents each). We then went for sinh to and a bike ride along the beach front. It was a lovely way to spend a warm, balmy evening – I cannot even imagine being in the cold of New Zealand.