The Journey Home
After more than a quarter of a century, the long awaited trip back to my birth home was filled with excitement and expectations. Ever since I can remember, it has been my goal and dream to return home. The land where I was born and the place from where my family had to flee for a better life. With my backpack filled with medicines, a first aid kit, medical books and a stethoscope, I was ready to go. Hundreds of thoughts ran through my mind. After years of hard work, preparation and plenty of luck, I was now a Medical Doctor. How many people can I treat and how many lives can I alter? How much can I do for all the orphanages I have read about? The intentions were good and the plans were endless.
Unfortunately, there were hurricanes and floods in Danang the moment I arrived in Saigon. It was unsafe for me to go to the area. I was unable to find a hospital in Saigon to volunteer in, but I was fortunate enough to find an Acupressure Medicine Master who was willing to take me under his wings and share with me what he could during our limited time. This was not evidence-based medicine and did not have any statistical data support. But, I did witness its ability to treat difficult medical issues that we deal with on a regular basis like migraine and chronic pain. I met people that traveled from Hue and Hanoi to be treated by him. Speaking to them, they have tried everything else (Western medicine and acupuncture) and this was the only thing that gave them relief. It was fascinating to see a majority of the patients responded very well to the treatment. I am used to fumbling over multiple medications with very limited response in similar cases. The foundation of this practice is based on the use of pressure, heat, vibration and blood flow. The pressure point patterns were as or more complicated than anything I have learned in medical school. There is no use of medicine or needles; therefore side effects are essentially nonexistent. I am not 100 % convinced but I am very impressed and will continue to study this form of practice.
I have traveled to many places in my life and have met many different people from all over the world. There were two kinds of people I met in Vietnam, the rich and the poor. The rich lived very, very well. But the majority of the people were poor and those were the hardest working people I had ever seen in my life. I had thought working 80 to 100 hours a week during medical residency was difficult until I met these people. The majority of the working class worked seven days a week, twelve hours a day, and 365 days a year. There were a few days off to visit their families during the year, but otherwise, there were no weekends and holidays for them. They didn’t have much of an option; if they were not happy, there were still hundreds of other people waiting right behind them to take their job.
On one of my tour days, I decided to go to Cho Lon (the ethnic Chinese “grand market”). The place was filled with thousands of people trying to make literally a few pennies. The minute I stepped into the area, I was solicited by hundreds of people trying to sell me everything from food, clothing to souvenirs. I sat down and had a nice bowl of soup for lunch that cost less than one dollar. Then I started walking through the crowds of people, some had a stand to put their stuff on and others only had a simple blanket on the floor. I pictured in my head my pregnant mother with two sons, approximately 30 years ago, sitting in the same spot trying to make a few dollars. It was extremely difficult for me to walk through these areas without stopping and buying something. It was not that I wanted any of these things, but it was rather because I wanted to find a reason to buy some of them. I kept these emotions inside and my traveling colleagues were not aware of my mental distress. I myself did not fully realize what was going on.
That afternoon, I met two teenagers who were fleeing the flood up north and were trying to shine shoes for some food money in Saigon. I offered to buy them lunch, and they were ecstatic. Both of them looked emaciated, soiled and lost. To my surprise, they offered to show me a much cheaper place to eat, a ten-minute walk away. It was on the side street where people cooked and sold meals out of a small pot, using whatever utensils they could carry on their back. I would have easily paid for whatever meals they wanted. But they did not want to abuse my generosity and waste my money. I asked myself what I would have done if I were in their shoes. If my parents had not risked their lives so many years ago to bring me to the United States, I could have been in their position. Would I have the integrity that they had or would I try to take as much as I could? I was so touched I prepaid their meals and gave them some money for the road. I left them with some encouragement to try and study hard in school to find a better future, knowing very well that attending school without money for books and food was almost impossible when they were happy enough with just having something to eat for the day and a place to sleep at night.
There are still a lot of poor children in Vietnam. I don't think there is an official curfew. Therefore, they are always wandering around trying to make a dollar. The law prohibits them from soliciting. But, they are allowed to sell things for a dollar or two (lottery tickets, fruits, roses, candy). Some full time laborers only make a dollar a day and this allows for another source of income for a poor family. A large number of these children don't have a home to go to or they share a small room with five to six other children. And with the money they save, they send home to their families in the countryside.
On my walk home to the hotel that evening at approximately 1-2 AM, a little nine-year-old girl selling roses approached me. Each rose cost less than 60 cents. I asked her why she was out so late and what her parents were doing? She was helping her parents work to support the family. She worked every single day until 2-3 AM and went home, fed herself with whatever was available and slept until the next day. She stated that her parents both work until 4 AM every morning. I assume they worked for the city picking up trash or they must be one of those people going through the trashcans looking for whatever they could reuse. The little girl also informed me that her siblings were still in Hue (my father’s hometown) and that she was the eldest. She and her parents rented a little place to sleep in while they are trying to make money to send home. I was used to seeing girls her age playing with dolls, attending school, and worrying about what to wear to school the next day, not walking around in a city by herself at 2 o’clock in the morning trying to make less than a dollar. I gave her some money and asked her to just keep her roses to sell them the next day. She gracefully accepted the money, but insisted that I took the rose. Again, I was shocked by this little girl’s sense of pride, integrity and lack of greed. How was it possible that someone with so little carried herself so well? I was so touched I took a large amount of what was in my pocket and gave it to her. She walked away with a beautiful smile and I turned into the dark corner of the hotel and broke down and cried. The amazing strength that those people showed in handling such hardship so well throughout the whole day brought tears to my eyes. This time, I did not have to ask myself if I could do what she did if I were in her shoes, I know I could not.
My motherland, the land where I was born, the land that gave me life. When I first came, I was hoping to give back after more than a quarter of a century, but instead I received. In my short time there, I learned about a new form of medicine, the true nature of hard work, and an unexpected kind of honesty and integrity. The people of Vietnam have taught me much more than I could have ever imagined, the true appreciation of money, food, humanity and life in general.
My motherland, like my loving mother and my caring father, after decades, continues to give and help mold me into a better person. It nurtured and fed me when I was born and continues to feed my mind, soul, and body. Hopefully, one day I will be able to give back to my fascinating homeland and the amazing people that live there.
Hieu V. Ho
Photo credit: http://moggymekongmadness.blogspot.com/2013/03/xo-toursyouve-done-it-again.html
