Xây đắp tương lai trên đất Thái

Xây đắp tương lai trên đất Thái
Ly khách ! Ly khách ! Con đường nhỏ
Chí lớn chưa về bàn tay không
Thì không bao giờ nói trở lại
Ba năm mẹ già cũng đừng mong. Tống Biệt Hành (Thâm Tâm)


Ngoài sân nhà thờ có chuyện đang xảy ra, có người lên tiếng: “Cảnh sát đến!” Tôi bỏ cái chổi quét nhà xuống để chạy ra xem sự cố. Cảnh sát đến thật. Một anh cảnh sát trong trang phục màu nâu sát người. Cha S. một linh mục Việt kiều Thái đến chận anh trước sân để nói chuyện. Phía sau mấy trăm bạn trẻ Việt Nam ùa vào bên trong nhà ăn, người đi người chạy. Một bạn gái bị té ngất xỉu. Mọi người cố gắng giữ bình tĩnh mặc dầu trên khuôn mặt nỗi lo âu hiện rõ.

- Có ai bị bắt không? – Ai đó hỏi.

- Không biết. Hình như có. – Có người trả lời.

Một lát sau anh cảnh sát lên xe quay đầu lái về hướng cổng nhà thờ, ở ghế sau có một bạn trẻ tên Phúc. Người bạn trẻ bị bắt chiều hôm ấy trước nhà thờ Don Bosco chỉ là một trong hàng ngìn bạn trẻ Việt Nam đến Thái Lan lao động bất hợp pháp đã từng bị cảnh sát Thái Lan bắt vì không có giấy tờ cư trú hợp lệ. Người bạn trẻ tên Phúc ấy cũng là một trong gần 600 bạn trẻ đi tham dự thánh lễ của cộng đoàn Việt Nam ngày 4 tháng 11 năm 2007 tại Bangkok.

Ở Thái Lan hiện nay số người Việt sang lao động không có giấy tờ hợp pháp lên đến hàng chục ngìn. Không ai biết số lượng chính xác là bao nhiêu. Dường như tất cả đều đến từ ba tỉnh Miền Trung Việt Nam là Thanh Hóa, Hà Tỉnh, và Nghệ An là một vùng có kinh tế kém phát triển ở Việt Nam. Vì nhu cầu mưu sinh trong khi cơ hội tìm việc làm trong nước ngày càng khó khăn, các bạn trẻ đành phải tìm cách vượt biên giới sang đất Thái để kiếm sống bằng những công việc như may áo quần, bán quán, hoặc những công việc lao động tay chân khác. Làm việc cực nhọc vất vả mỗi ngày 15-16 giờ đồng hồ cũng kiếm được một tháng vài trăm đô để gởi về cho gia đình. Nếu không bị cảnh sát bắt giam hoặc để tống tiền khi đang đi ngoài đường thì họ cũng sống tương đối bình yên. Mà hầu như bạn nào ở Thái Lan cũng đã từng bị cảnh sát chận một vài lần, đa số là để lấy tiền. Nếu không lấy tiền ngay lúc đó rồi thả cho đi, thì đem về đồn chờ bạn bè hoặc chủ thuê việc đưa tiền lên chuộc.

Cũng vì sợ bị cảnh sát phát hiện nên nhiều bạn trẻ không dám đi ra đường. Mà phát hiện người Việt cũng không mấy khó khăn đối với người làm trách nhiệm Thái. Từ cách ăn mặc đến cái kiểu đi đứng của các bạn xuất thân từ miền quê dễ nhận ra lắm. Mà quê Việt Nam nó lại không giống quê Thái tí nào nên lại càng dễ bị phát hiện hơn. Người Việt lại bị mắc một triệu chứng “có tật giật mình” nên nhiều khi thấy cảnh sát, chưa gì đã bỏ chạy. Ông công an nào dù chưa biết mô tê gì mà nhìn thấy cử chỉ khả nghi cũng phải chạy theo điều tra, vì là nhiệm vụ của họ. Thế là bị tóm cổ luôn. Cách đây không lâu một nhóm bạn trẻ mời tôi đến nhà chơi vào chiều Chúa Nhật. Cả nhóm làm thức ăn mua bia về đãi. Chỉ trong một buổi chiều mà các bạn đã nhận được hai cú điện thoại cầu cứu, mỗi lần có 3 người bị bắt. Tôi hỏi:

- Đi đâu mà bị bắt?

- Thưa cha đi chợ. – Tụi nó trả lời.

- Vậy giờ làm sao?

- Dạ giờ bạn bè góp tiền đem lên chuộc về.

- Đơn giản vậy à?

- Dạ nếu nó còn ở đồn thì đơn giản. Nhưng nếu bị chuyển qua sở di trú rồi thì hết giúp được.

Ra đường bị bắt như thế làm cho các bạn ngại đi đây đó cũng phải. Lần đầu tiên tôi được mời đến dâng thánh lễ cho cộng đoàn Việt Nam, tôi ngồi tòa giải tội gần 3 giờ đồng hồ. Có 10 người đi xưng tội thì hết 9 người xưng tội bỏ lễ ngày Chúa Nhật. Có bạn chỉ đợi đến khi nào có lễ tiếng Việt thì mới dám mạo hiểm đi. Mà lễ tiếng Việt thì một vài tháng mới có một lần. Lý do cũng chỉ vì không có nhà thờ để làm lễ. Có nơi từ chối không cho cộng đoàn Việt Nam làm lễ vì cho rằng các bạn trẻ Việt Nam thiếu trật tự quá. Mà nhận xét của họ cũng không sai đặc biệt vì nhiều bạn trẻ quá thiếu ý thức trong việc giữ dìn vệ sinh và tôn trọng khuôn viên nhà thờ. Vì thế làm lễ ở nhà thờ Fatima được một thời gian rồi bị “đuổi”. Sau đó qua nhà thờ St. John cũng chỉ được vài lần. Gần đây nhất là nhà thờ Don Bosco, làm lễ được 4 lần.

Gần đây cha Nguyễn Tiến Đức, một cha Dòng Đaminh đang theo học tại Thái Lan và các seour Dòng Mân Côi đang dạy học tại Bangkok giúp tổ chức cộng đoàn có trật tự hơn. Việc chia khu chia tổ được thực hiện. Khi tổ chức lễ có ban trật tự để đi quanh nhắc nhở các bạn đừng hút thuốc, xã rác. Có người đứng trước cổng nhà thờ để hướng dẫn người ra vào. Rồi cha Đức còn tổ chức ban “nhiệt tình” để dọn vệ sinh sau các buổi ăn sau lễ. Nói đến đây tôi xin nhắc lại tại sao khi cảnh sát đến nhà thờ tôi đang cầm cái chổi. Đó cũng là vì ngày hôm ấy, cha S. được ai đó tặng mấy thùng cam. Cha mang cam đến cho các bạn ăn. Nhưng nhiều bạn ăn cam, bóc võ, nhã hột quên….bỏ vào thùng rác mà thả thẳng xuống sàn nhà trong phòng ăn. Thế là tôi và một số bạn khác phải đi tìm chổi quét rác không thôi bị cha xứ khiển trách cũng nên.

Nói chung là thời gian gần đây các cha, các seour, và một số người lãnh đạo trong cộng đoàn cũng nỗ lức lắm trong việc tổ chức cộng đoàn cho có cấu trúc, có ban, có ngành. Dự định ngày 30 tháng 12 sẽ mừng lễ Giáng Sinh (ngày 25 các bạn phải làm việc không đi lễ được) một cách hoành tráng, và sẽ có nghi thức giới thiệu và tiếp nhận các thừa tác viên. Trong một buổi họp gần đây, ban trật tự hứa sẽ làm việc đắc lực hơn nữa để cho việc tổ chức thánh lễ được êm xuôi. Cái ca đoàn mới được thành lập cách đây hai thánh lễ dự định sẽ hát thánh ca Vọng Giáng Sinh, và hát đến hai bài trong phần hiệp lễ. Rồi cộng đoàn sẽ mời một số khách đến tham dự để làm quen với cộng đoàn. Và đặc biệt hôm ấy, cộng đoàn sẽ bày tỏ lòng tri ân với giáo xứ Don Bosco bằng cách mời cha xứ ra để cho cộng đoàn cám ơn và tặng một món quà nho nhỏ để làm kỷ niệm.

Ca đoàn chưa kịp tập hát, thiệp mời khách chưa kịp gởi đi, quà cho cha xứ chưa kịp mua thì tôi nhận được tin từ Phong:

- Cha ơi, mình bị đuổi nữa rồi.

- Hả? Sao bị đuổi? Mình đâu làm gì đâu mà bị đuổi? – Tôi hỏi lại.

- Con chưa biết hết thông tin. Nhưng con nghe nói là nhà thờ Don Bosco, họ họp và quyết định là họ không muốn cho mình làm lễ ở đó nữa vì họ không muốn bị luyên lụy trong việc chứa chấp người bất hợp pháp. – Phong trả lời.

- Vậy là do cái dụ có đứa bị bắt lần trước à?

- Đúng vậy.

Cha Đức và Bác Trọng, một Việt kiều Thái và cũng là người lăn lộn để tìm cho cộng đoàn có nơi làm lễ không kiềm nỗi sự bức xúc. Sự buồn bã của hại vị được thể hiện rõ trong bài báo đưa tin về hoàn cảnh của cộng đoàn được đăng trên trang Vietcatholic:

Về giấy phép làm việc đối với người Việt sang lao động ở Thái thì người có người không. Đây cũng là chuyện thường tình đối với những người sang Thái làm việc từ các quốc gia khác, và cũng là chuyện phổ biến ở xã hội Thái. Nếu có thiệt thòi một chút vì lợi ích lớn lao là được các linh hồn, sao họ lại không chọn ? Vậy lẽ nào vì thế mà từ chối việc mở cửa nhà thờ cho người Việt ở đây muốn đến với Chúa để mừng lễ Giáng Sinh??? Chúa ở trong nhà thờ đành chịu để cho người giữ cửa cho hoặc không cho Chúa được gặp con cái mình sao???

Lẽ nào vì thế mà nhu cầu tâm linh rất chính đáng của những người dân Việt xa xứ lại không được Giáo Hội địa phương đáp ứng. Không mượn được nhà thờ để mừng lễ Chúa Giáng Sinh cũng đồng nghĩa với việc người Việt tha hương không có lễ Giáng Sinh và không thể lãnh nhận bí tích Hòa Giải để dọn hang đá tâm hồn đón Chúa Hài Nhi. Không biết trách nhiệm này thuộc về ai? Chẳng lẽ đàn chiên phải chịu tội???

Bản chất của Giáo Hội là truyền giáo. Thế Giáo Hội địa phương này truyền giáo thế nào? Thay vì đi tìm chiên lạc đàn trở về, giờ có những 600 con chiên vượt gian khó, tìm đến nhà Chúa nhưng lại bị người giữ cửa từ chối không cho vào và đành phải bơ vơ, nghểnh đầu dáo dác! Thế có phải là truyền giáo hay không, hay là phản truyền giáo???

Trong Tin mừng, Đức Giêsu đã ví mình như người chăn chiên lành, người bỏ 99 con trong đàn chiên để đi tìm cho bằng được một con chiên lạc, đưa nó về đàn (Lc 15). Giờ đây có một đàn chiên Việt tha hương (600 con), đang bơ vơ lạc lõng ở xa xứ, vì không có chủ chăn hướng dẫn; đang hoang mang, dáo dác vì không biết đến đâu để mừng lễ Giáng Sinh; đang thiết tha mong mỏi có được chuồng chiên để trú ngụ khi gặp giông tố; đang nhiệt tình tìm kiếm hang đá Belem để đến thờ lạy Chúa Hài Nhi trong đêm Giáng Sinh!!!

Cuối cùng thì một nhà thờ khác cũng đã chấp nhận cho cộng đoàn Việt Nam mượn để làm lễ Giáng Sinh. Giờ đây mọi người đang truyền miệng cho nhau về địa điểm mới của thánh lễ sắp đến. Nhưng nhà thờ lại ở xa, ở một vùng không mấy quen thuộc với đa số các bạn, và không có phương tiện xe cộ công cộng đi lại dễ dàng. Mà đi lại chính là nỗi lo toan của những người trẻ không có trong mình những tờ giấy hợp pháp. Chắc chắn sẽ có một số bạn đến nhà thờ Don Bosco để dự lễ nhưng lại không thấy ai. Rồi sẽ có một số bạn tranh thủ đi đến địa điểm mới từ sáng sớm, trước lễ 4-5 giờ đồng hồ vì giờ đó an toàn hơn. Rồi cũng sẽ có người đi không đến nơi vì bị lạc đường, hoặc bị cảnh sát bắt giữ ngay trên đường đi. Và có lẽ cũng sẽ có bạn đi lễ xong không về đến nhà vì bị phát hiện và bắt giữ.

Tôi viết bài chia sẻ này khi chỉ còn ba ngày nữa là đến lễ Giáng Sinh. Đêm 24 ở nhiều nhà thờ sẽ đầy nhóc người. Nhà thờ Chánh Tòa tại Sài Gòn phải có vé mới vào tham dự lễ đêm được. Ở Hà Tỉnh, Nghệ An, Thanh Hóa, quê hương của các bạn trẻ giờ đây mọi người đang nô nức trông chờ lễ Noel. Và lễ Noel ở quê của các bạn cũng không thiếu sự trang trọng. Nhưng tại Bangkok giờ đây, các bạn đang cặm cụi với cái bàn may. Mặc dầu trong 63 triệu dân ở Thái Lan, chỉ có 300.000 ngìn người là Công giáo, nhưng ở các trung tâm thương mại, người ta trang hoàng cũng hoành tráng và rực rở lắm. Nhưng các bạn đâu dám ra đó để ngắm cảnh, mà có dám ra cũng không ra được vì phải làm việc đến khuya. Và đêm 24, khi cả thế giới hân hoan đón mừng Noel, cũng sẽ có nhiều bạn đang ngồi trước chiếc máy may để kiếm những đồng tiền được trả theo sản phẩm, hoặc chạy bàn ở trong các quán ăn trong thành phố - như thể không có chuyện gì khác thường đang xảy ra.

A high price to pay

Recently, a friend asked me, “Did you hear about a Vietnamese teenage TV star who made a video of herself and her boyfriend having sex and it ended up on the internet?” “Who?” I asked. “I can’t remember her name, but it’s all over the Vietnamese news websites,” he replied.

I went to read the news and sure enough, there were many articles about an actress by the name of Hoang Thuy Linh whose popular TV series “Nhat Ky Vang Anh” had to be canceled because of the scandal. What her video depicted was so different from her good girl image that neither she nor the show producers felt that it was appropriate to continue. As a result, an actress on the rise to stardom in Vietnam had to fall deep and hard. Thuy Linh had to go on TV, and in the midst of tears, apologized to her family and teachers for disgracing them, and to her fans, most of whom are high school girls, for disappointing them.

As a result of police investigations, it was discovered that the people who distributed Thuy Linh’s video over the internet were also teenagers like herself. In Vietnam because it is illegal to distribute pornography, these students have been arrested and will be prosecuted for their crimes.

I’m pretty sure this scandal with a 19-year-old Vietnamese actress reminds us of another girl much more famous and wealthy. That girl is no other than the infamous Paris Hilton. But although Paris Hilton survived her tragedy, no one thinks that Thuy Linh will make it through hers.

The video incidents remind us of serious issues with young people today. First of all, young people are having sex when they aren’t ready. And add to that, many are not careful and responsible with their actions. The fact that young people are not only having sex, but are making video tapes, taking pictures, and then somehow make them available for others to see, whether by accident or on purpose, is something we have to seriously think about and ask ourselves:

“Is this right?”

“Should we be doing this?”

“What are the consequences that we will have to face by these careless actions?”

If you’re a young person in the twenty-first century, you’d have to be living under some pretty big rocks if you’re not surfing the web regularly, or at least sending emails to friends occasionally. In fact, there are some high school students who use the internet so much that they’ve become experts. Those people will end up in great jobs as engineers, software designers, game designers, or internet entrepreneurs. They’ll end up inventing new kinds of hardwares that will make technology progress to new heights.

And yet, there’s a bunch of teenagers who, like the ones involved in the Thuy Linh incident, spend a lot of time looking at internet pornography, and even spend a lot of time distributing videos and pictures for others to see. These people get hold of pictures, webcam photos, or videos of others, no matter whether they are famous or just a regular no-name person, and put them all over the websites for others to download.

We can readily see that people who are doing this to others is doing something really really wrong. If you’re in school, you should be spending your time doing your homework, preparing for exams, and playing sports. You should be using the internet for beneficial entertainment such as keeping in touch with friends, listening to music, and researching for information. If most of your time on the internet is spent with things related to pornography, then it’s time to rethink about your priorities.

On the other hand, as much as we are upset with the young people who are so willing to ruin other people’s lives by their mean-spirited actions, we can’t help but also see that such an incident would never have taken place if Thuy Linh and her boyfriend, Paris Hilton, and other young people would think more about their behavior. It is time for us to think again about what is the meaning and purpose of sex in our lives.

As young people, should sex be a part of life when we are not even sure if we can handle all of the consequences that go with this act?

The Catholic church asks that everyone restrain from sexual intercourse before marriage. This isn’t just a law to make us not be able to enjoy something that everyone should be able to enjoy. The Church isn’t out to deprive us of things that are good for us. But in fact, the Church knows that sex is an extremely important part of human life, and wants to make sure that we use sex in a way that it was meant to be – as an act of greatest intimacy between two loving husband and wife, and as a way for them to extend that love through the act of having children. The Church wants us to realize how valuable and meaningful sex is, so that it just can’t be done in a manner that was careless, and served little more than instant gratification. When two loving married people have sex with one another, they are doing the very thing that they were meant to do. The Church fully supports and wishes all married couples the best in their emotional, spiritual, as well as sexual life.

Returning to the sex video incident, we can see that today, there is an even greater challenge for us in the issue of sex. Now, we not only have to remind each other about whether or not to engage in sex when we are not married and are not ready, we have to further remind each other that it is not at all smart to do what many of our peers are doing. That is, making videos, taking pictures, and distributing them to others. Something that we do in a moment of fun can cause severe consequences.

As young people, we have dreams about our careers and our personal lives. Careless actions like these can cause all those things we dream about to be severely affacted, as the actress Thuy Linh is finding out in a very painful way. In addition, whether we realize it or not, as young people, we are members of a family and of a community. Our actions will have an effect on others. We Vietnamese have a saying, “Một con sâu làm rầu nồi canh (A bug can spoil an entire pot of soup).” What this means is that one unthinking action by one person can bring the whole family or the whole community down. When Thuy Linh’s show was canceled, not only she lost her job, but all the other actors and actresses, as well as the show staff lost their jobs as well. Thuy Linh was not the only person who felt ashamed, her parents felt disgraced as much as she did.

As I was following this news story with Thuy Linh, I came across a number of blogs where people left their comments about the actress and about her video. I was shocked and saddened for her because of so many jarring comments that anonymous people on the internet wrote. I could not believe that so many people had such atrocious things to say about a 19-year-old girl who had made a mistake in her life. These comments make me realize that sometimes when we make mistakes, it is very difficult to find people to sympathize with us, to support us, and to give us a second chance. But the people who are ready to ridicule and bring us down is easy to find.

That’s why we should understand that our actions have consequences attached, consequences that can be very costly. Sometimes, it’s good to find out for ourselves what happens when we make mistakes and learn from them. But other times, such as in the issue of pre-marital sex and irresponsible behavior such as the one we are talking about, do we really need to find out for ourselves what those conseuquences will be?

Living in regret: reflections of a young drug addict

I met Duy Anh for the first time in 2003 when he walked into the office of a program in Saigon which helped young drug addicts get off heroin. He was tall and slim, with light skin. He dressed in a light blue shirt and cream slacks. His hair was neatly cut and parted in the middle. He spoke politely in nothern Vietnamese accent, and had a bright and ready smile. His appearance and demeanor were much different from many young addicts his age who often looked hard and tough. The only sign of his toughness was some scars on his forehand as a result of trying to erase a tattoo with a cheap chemical called “thuốc tím”. As I was observing him, I thought to myself, I’d never suspect that this kid would be a heroin addict just by looking at him. But I was wrong. Duy Anh had been addicted for over three years, and what was worse than that, he was already infected with the HIV virus as a result of sharing needles with his friends.

The drug rehabilitation program accepted Duy Anh and tried its best to help him quit. During those times, I also tried to accompany and counsel him in the hope that he would get off heroin once and for all, so that he can live a healthier life. But helping heroin addicts is never easy. My effort was barely enough. After leaving the program, Duy Anh found his way back to the thing that had brought him and his family nothing but pain and misery.

But an important incident in Duy Anh’s life affected him in a profound way. After his father’s death in June of 2004, Duy Anh decided that it was truly the right time to say good-bye to a life of lies, deception, and self-destructiveness. I was not sure if he could do it, and people around him were doubtful that he could. But in June 2007, when I met Duy Anh again in Vietnam, he told me that it had been exactly three years since he got off drugs. Now, he is taking medication everyday in order to push back the effect of HIV and to prolong his life as much as possible.

But being able to get off drugs doesn’t mean life would be easier for Duy Anh. He still has to live with the consequences of his mistakes. And he struggles to make the best out of his situation, even though he is faced with many obstacles. Recently, he decided to write down some of his spontaneous thoughts about his life and experience and shared them with me. I asked Duy Anh whether I could share his thoughts with others, and he said I could do whatever I wanted, if it would help others not to make the same mistakes as he did.

I hope that these words from a young person will help you to look at your life in a different way. Perhaps it will help you to appreciate your family and your health more. Perhaps it will encourage you to change your ways if you find that you are also heading down similar paths as Duy Anh. Perhaps it will help you to value the good things that others give you, but you never really considered it. And perhaps it will remind you that the things we do have consequences. Sometimes, the consequences are not great. They will not affect us or others a great deal. But sometimes, the consequences can be overwhelming and very painful. So let us always consider carefully about what we do before we even do it.

Taking things for granted

“I was born and grew up in a family that wasn’t rich, but I was the youngest boy, so my parents always gave me a lot of love and attention. When I was going to school, whatever I needed was always given me by my family. I was very proud to my friends that I lived in such a loving home. I always took this love for granted. Drugs came to me for the first time when I was offered some by a friend in high school. That first time turned into many times and soon enough I became addicted without knowing it. When my mom found out that I was addicted to drugs, she cried a lot, and encouraged me to go into rehab.

“I listened to my mother and went into rehab. I also took time to sort out between right and wrong. Even though I felt like the best years of my life had already passed by, somehow, love came to me during this time. And I began to have dreams such as having a happy family and a good life. But those dreams were not powerful enough for me to say “no” to drugs. And I relapsed into my old ways….
Mistakes and consequences

“In life, everyone falls down once in a while. We fall down when we first learn how to walk. We fall down when we try to make it through life. Each time we fall down, we get up and the steps after that become more confident and sure. But as for me, after falling down, each step that I take afterward seems to be painful, and more difficult than ever.
“Those days of playing without any care has brought to me a disease that everyone in society despises. It was that carelessness that caused me to lose everything, including the girl that I love. My heart becomes stricken by pain every time I think back on this relationship. In life, it seems that when we have something, we always take it for granted, until it’s gone….

“Sometimes I become too tired to think further, so I tell myself to forget everything. But that’s just a temporary solution. Even just a small incident, a passing word from someone, a song, or something that I see brings the pain back into my heart. Some people tell me to stop looking at the past, and to start looking forward into the future in order to live. They tell me I’m too weak when it comes to relationships. Perhaps they are right, but what can we do when we believe that we have already met the person whom we LOVE?...

Pain and regrets

“To my mother…These are probably the last words that I will be writing to you. At 25 years old, I live as if I’m already near death. Now I look back and remember that first time when I lied to you in order to get money for heroin. I sold my life over to drugs and brought to you unspeakable pain and grief. I was once your source of pride and joy, as I was able to go to the university and eventually would graduate with a college degree. But I didn’t want to take the straight path forward. Instead I chose to take the money that you made with your sweats and tears in order to get high. I know that you suffer much because of me, but your tears no longer run down your face but secretly back into your heart. I wish that I had never found my ways to drugs, so that now I don’t have to spend the rest of my life regretting.
And some hope…

“But the months and years that I have left, I promise you that I will live well. I will do whatever I can, even though I know that a lot hardships and obstacles lie ahead of me. But fortunately, you have taught me how to be enduring and patient. And you have continued to give me your love. So I will try to do all that I can. I only hope that you will not worry more about me, so that it would not make your health worse.”
Nowadays, Duy Anh is a willing volunteer whenever he is asked by doctors, priests, or sisters to go share about his experience to other young people in Saigon. Let us pray that Duy Anh and other people like him find the grace and the strength from God to change their lives and live each and everyday that they have with confidence and hope. And may they also find love and support from family, friends, and society.

Viết về Sơn

Tôi biết đến Sơn qua một người quen và chúng tôi hẹn nhau đi uống cà phê. Vì Sơn không có xe nên tôi tới đón tại nhà ở một con đường hẻm ở ngã tư Phú Nhuận, Sài Gòn. Khi tới nơi tôi mới phát hiện là địa chỉ tôi ghi xuống trên mảnh giấy không phải là địa chỉ của một căn nhà mà là một phòng kho bề ngang không quá một mét rưởi và bề dài chỉ khoảng 6 mét. Sơn sống ở trong căn phòng ẩm thấp, tối tăm, và chật chội này với người mẹ từ sáng tới khuya phải đi làm mướn cho nhà người ta.

Tôi thường xuyên gặp Sơn trong những ngày sau đó. Chúng tôi cùng nhau đi uống cà phê, đi lễ chiều, đi ăn... . Trong những cuộc hẹn này, tôi ngồi nói chuyện với Sơn và lắng nghe em chia sẻ về đời sống khó khăn của mình, cũng như những gì đã đưa em tới con đường ma tuý. Tôi ngỏ ý hỏi Sơn có muốn tự mình cắt cơn ở nhà không thì Sơn đồng ý. Và tôi hứa sẽ hỗ trợ em về tinh thần trong thời gian vật vã. Những ngày cắt cơn thật khó khăn. Sơn ăn không ngon, ngủ không yên, mấy ngày đầu toàn thân bị nhức nhối vì triệu chúng “dòi bò”. Nhưng rồi em cũng dần khoẻ ra.

Sau khoảng 10 ngày cắt cơn, tôi phải đi công tác vài ngày. Khi trở lại thành phố thì tôi liền tìm đến nhà Sơn để xem quá trình cai như thế nào? Lần đầu gõ cửa thì không thấy có người trả lời, nhưng lần thứ hai đến thì tôi gặp Sơn đứng chờ tôi đầu hẻm, với khuôn mặt tươi cười như Sơn thường hay tỏ lộ khi gặp gỡ tôi. Nhưng nhìn sắc mặt của Sơn trong lòng tôi biết có chuyện không ổn. Chúng tôi đi tới một quán cà phê gần nhà Sơn và bắt đầu trò chuyện.

Tôi nói:

- Sáng hôm nay anh có ghé qua nhưng không thấy em. Sơn trả lời:

- Dạ, lúc ấy em đang đi chơi với bạn em.

- Thế à, vậy nó đâu rồi?

- Trước khi anh tới em mới đưa nó ra đón xe về Biên Hoà.

- Nó ở tận dưới Biên Hoà lận à? Nó tới chơi lúc nào?

- Nó tới chiều hôm qua. Tụi em đi chơi suốt đêm.

- Sao đi chơi nhiều thế?

- Tại vì ngày hôm qua em buồn quá nên tụi em kéo nhau đi chơi. Em định không nói với anh, nhưng khi gặp anh, em cảm thấy có lỗi nên em muốn nói cho anh hay.

- Em có lỗi gì?

- Ngày hôm qua em buồn quá, nên em đã chơi lại. Luôn tiện thằng bạn em ở Biên Hoà lên nên tụi em chơi với nhau. Từ chiều hôm qua đến giờ, tụi em chơi hết năm lần. Em cảm thấy rất có lỗi với anh vì anh đang giúp em bỏ, mà em làm không được.

- (Tôi vẫn giữ thái độ bình thản) Anh thấy vấn đề này không phải là lỗi hay không lỗi đối với anh. Mà chỉ muốn biết tại sao em chơi lại thôi. Mà em chơi ở đâu?

- Tụi em chơi trong phòng karaoke. Trưa hôm qua, em đang cảm thấy phấn khởi, nên em quyết định dọn nhà cho sạch sẻ. Em thu dẹp bao thuốc lá, rác rưởi, rửa chén…Lúc đó ba em qua. Ông ta đang say rượu nên khi ông thấy em ông bắt đầu la lối. Ông kêu: “Mày là cái đồ xì-ke. Mày không làm gì nên người…” Hàng xóm kéo qua nghe ông chửi em, lúc đó em thấy xấu hổ lắm.

- Ông nói gì nữa không?

- Ông nói: “Tao nuôi mày lớn, chăm sóc cho mày mà mày không biết điều. Mày cứ làm khổ tao”. Mà anh biết, ông đâu có lo gì cho em với mẹ em đâu. Ông bỏ mẹ con em nghèo khổ. Ông đem tiền cho gái với cho vợ bé của ông. Mẹ con em không có nhà ở mà ông có thương em đâu.

Tôi không nói gì, chỉ ngồi thinh lặng. Những giọt nước mắt bắt đầu ứa ra và chảy xuống má Sơn.

- Ông nói ông lo cho em mà ông đâu có lo. Trong nhà em có cái TV với đầu máy là em tự sắm. Trước đây em đi giữ xe ở một quán ăn; em dành dụm mới mua được mấy thứ đó. Áo quần em, em cũng tự sắm. Mà em đâu có áo quần gì đâu. Trước đây em đi học, em chỉ có một bộ áo quần. Cái áo trắng ngày nào em cũng mặc nên nó vàng khè. Nó rách em phải vá đủ chỗ. Đi học, em mắc cỡ lắm vì mấy tụi ở trường chọc em, mà em cũng phải chịu. Em nhỏ con em đâu có dám làm gi tụi nó.

Tôi vẫn ngồi thinh lặng, để nghe Sơn tuôn ra những tâm sự không ngừng. Sơn chỉ dừng lại để đốt thêm một điếu thuốc.

- Ngày đầu tiên em đi giữ xe, sáng sớm em đi bộ lên đó mà trong túi em không có một đồng nào hết. Sáng đó em cũng chưa ăn sáng. Giờ nghĩ trưa, người ta đi ăn trưa, em không có tiền, phải ra ngoài ngồi đến hết giờ em quay trở lại. Ngày đầu tiên làm việc em đâu dám xin sếp ứng trước. Lúc đó em đói bụng lắm mà em đâu có đồng nào để ăn trưa. Em giữ xe tới 11 giờ đêm quán mới đóng cửa. Lúc đó em mới xin ít tiền trước để em ăn tối.

Ngừng một lúc, Sơn lại tiếp tục:

- Ba em nói ông lo cho em mà em không thấy ông làm gì cho em hết. Ông đâu có thương em. Hồi em còn nhỏ, ông thường đi chơi mấy ngày mới về một lần. Nhiều khi em nhớ ba em, em ra trước cổng ngồi chờ. Mấy lần trời tối em thấy có ông nào đang đi tới. Nhìn từ xa em thấy giông giống ba em, em nghĩ là ba về, em nhảy lên nhảy xuống mừng rỡ. Nhưng khi đến gần thì thấy không phải là ba em, nên em ngồi xuống khóc…Ông đi chơi, ông để mẹ con em nghèo khổ. Hồi nhỏ mỗi lần Tết Trung Thu đến, mấy đứa trong xóm chơi lồng đèn. Em đâu có tiền để mua. Em đi kiếm loong Coca, xẻ ra làm lồng đèn. Mà em cũng chẳng có tiền để mua đèn cầy. Em phải chờ mấy đứa trong xóm chơi xong, tụi nó vất khúc đèn cầy còn lại, em mới lấy để đốt đèn của em. Ông có bao giờ mua cho em áo quần, kẹo bánh gì đâu. Hồi trước ông hứa mua cho em cái này cái kia. Đến ngày mà ông nói ông sẽ mua cho em, em hồi hộp lắm. Nhưng rồi em không thấy gì hết… Không phải em muốn đổ thừa cho ông vì cái xấu của em, nhưng em cứ nghĩ nếu ông đã quan tâm đến em thì biết đâu em sẽ không đến nỗi như bây giờ….

Những giọt nước mắt vẫn tiếp tục lăn dài trên má Sơn. Nhìn người bạn trẻ bất hạnh đang ngồi trước mặt tôi, tôi chợt nhớ đến lời Chúa Giêsu trong Tin Mừng của thánh Luca:

“Phúc cho anh em là những kẻ nghèo khó,

Vì nước Thiên Chúa là của anh em.

Phúc cho anh em là những kẻ bây giờ đang phải đói,

Vì Thiên Chúa sẽ cho anh em được no lòng.

Phúc cho anh em là những kẻ bây giờ đang phải khóc,

Vì anh em sẽ được vui cười”.

Sau cuộc gặp gỡ ở quán cà phê không lâu, Sơn đã bị chính quyền địa phương bắt đi cai tập trung và tôi không còn gặp lại em nữa. Nhưng thỉnh thoảng, ánh mắt sợ hãi và bối rối của người bạn trẻ lâm vào ma tuý mà không biết cách nào để thoát ra khỏi vẫn hiện lên trong tâm trí tôi – một hình ảnh đau khổ và tuyệt vọng.

Hình ảnh đó luôn đối chọi với danh từ “con nghiện” mà gia đình, xóm giềng, và toàn xã hội đặt cho những người nghiện ma tuý như Sơn. Họ như những con vật, không còn là người đáng được xã hội màng tới. Tuy nhiên, trong những ngày tìm hiểu về đời sống và tâm sự của Sơn, tôi đã nhận ra rằng: đây là một người nghèo khó, phải đói, phải khóc, và bị người ta oán ghét, khai trừ, sỉ vả và bị coi như đồ xấu xa. Trong “con nghiện” này, tôi nhận ra đó là một tuyệt tác của Thiên Chúa mà những yếu đuối xuất phát từ bên trong, hay những cách nhục mạ đến từ bên ngoài không thể phủ nhận được. Một lúc chúng ta phủ nhận điều này và thuyết phục những người khác cũng đi theo lối suy nghĩ đó, lúc ấy chúng ta trở nên những người cứng rắn và vô cảm trước những hành động kỳ diệu của Thiên Chúa. Nếu chúng ta vẫn có thể biết thưởng thức ngắm nhìn “chim trời: chúng không gieo không gặt, không thu tích vào kho; thế mà Cha anh em trên trời vẫn nuôi chúng” (Mt 6, 26); không lẽ một người mắc căn bệnh nghiện ma tuý không thể quý giá hơn sao? “Anh em đừng xét đoán, để khỏi bị Thiên Chúa xét đoán, vì anh em xét đoán thế nào, thì anh em cũng sẽ bị Thiên Chúa xét đoán như vậy; và anh em đong đấu nào, thì Thiên Chúa cũng sẽ đong đấu ấy cho anh em” (Mt 7, 1-2).

Là những người thực hiện công tác mục vụ, tôi nghĩ rằng mục đích của chúng ta là luôn phải giúp cho những người chúng ta phục vụ nhận ra giá trị của họ mà không ai có thể cướp đi được. Chúng ta hiểu rằng: tội lỗi là hành động được thể hiện vì chúng ta không đáp trả tình yêu của Thiên Chúa; việc đánh mất nhân bản chính là hành động bao phủ chính mình với những thứ làm cho giá trị trong ta bị lu mờ đi; và hạnh phúc không phải là cái gì đó ta đi tìm đi kiếm, mà đã được Thiên Chúa ban cho ta từ khi Ngài tạo dựng nên ta. Nếu như vậy thì ta không bao giờ mất giá trị, mất hạnh phúc, mất sự thánh thiện…ta chỉ cần loại bỏ tất cả những gì lấn át nó khiến cho nó khó có thể nhận ra nơi ta.

Khác với một người làm công tác xã hội áp dụng những phương tiện trong xã hội để ảnh hưởng đến đời sống của một thân chủ đang gặp phải khó khăn; khác với một bác sĩ tâm thần áp dụng phương pháp khoa học để chữa bệnh tâm lý; làm việc mục vụ là để giúp những người chúng ta phục vụ nhận ra rằng: tình yêu, giá trị, hạnh phúc và sự thánh thiện mà Thiên Chúa đã ban cho họ từ khi họ lọt lòng mẹ vẫn đang còn trong họ. Họ chưa đánh mất những điều này, cho dù họ chơi ma tuý; cho dù họ cướp giật, cho dù họ là người nhiễm HIV/AIDS! Cái gì không đánh mất thì không phải đi tìm lại. Cái gì đã có thì không phải đi săn lùng. Công việc mục vụ có ý nghĩa và hiệu quả nhất là khi qua sự đồng hành của chúng ta, người chúng ta phục vụ có thể ngồi xuống một chỗ, nhắm mắt lại, thở thật nhẹ, để cho tâm hồn trầm lặng…và lúc đó họ có thể nhận ra rằng: tất cả những gì mà người ta cứ bảo mình đã đánh mất, thật sự vẫn còn đây, và dồi dào hơn bao giờ hết!

Speaking Vietnamese

Tommy Nguyen is a typical Vietnamese American teenager. He was born in Southern California. He goes to high school and likes to play basketball. He mostly hangs out with other Vietnamese Americans like him, but he also has some friends who are white, Chinese or Hispanic. But his close friends ultimately are other Vietnamese Americans.

“Why do you like to hang out with Vietnamese Americans?” I asked.

“I guess we just have more in common,” he answered after thinking a little.

“Like what?”

“I dunno,” Tommy shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just more comfortable to be around people who look like you and eat the same kind of food you do.”

“Do you and your friends speak in Vietnamese with one another?” I asked.

Tommy smiled, shaking his head. “Me and my friends don’t know much Vietnamese. When we talk, we throw in some Vietnamese words here and there, but mostly we stick with English.”

“Why don’t you learn?”

“I do. Every Sunday, I go to church to learn Vietnamese. So I like can read and write a little, but not that good.”

“What language do you use at home?”

“Both English and Vietnamese. Mostly, my parents speak to me in Vietnamese, and I answer then in English. Sometimes, I speak Vietnamese to them if I remember the words. But it’s not like I can speak whole sentences in Vietnamese,” Tommy explains.

“Do your parents speak English well?”

“They’re OK. Know enough to get by.”

“Then how do you have conversations with them?”

“It’s not like we talk that much. Usually, they just ask me about school or some normal stuff. It’s not hard for them to understand.”

“What if you have some serious problems that you want to discuss with your parents about?” I pressed.

Tommy shrugs. “I dunno. I think it’d be hard to explain so they can understand.”

“So you don’t talk to your folks that much?”

“I guess not a whole lot,” Tommy said, then took a big gulp of the soda can that he was holding in his hand.

Tommy’s problem with Vietnamese language and his parents is pretty much the same problem that many Vietnamese Americans who grow up in the States are having with theirs. Parents speak little or no English, and they speak little or no Vietnamese. As teenagers, it’s hard enough to face all the issues of growing up – having to deal with adults who don’t understand what it’s like to be young, but it’s worse when even if they try to understand you, they’re unable to speak with you because of the language barrier. It’s painful for the parents when children can’t understand them, and it’s frustrating for us when they don’t understand us. The generation gap is bad enough, but the language gap makes it even worse.

So what are we to do? The way I see it, parents can do something about trying to understand their children such as spending more time with them, and listening to them more; but as for the English bit, most are just too busy trying to find money to take care of the family to go learn English. And they’re too old now to try to remember vocabulary, past participles, and singular and plural nouns. They end up learning something new and forgetting some other things.
But that’s not our problem. We are young and smart. In school, all of us are required to learn a foreign language. Most of the time, it’s French or German, not Vietnamese. We learn for years but we can hardly speak because we don’t really practice using it in real life. But that’s not the case with Vietnamese because we can practice it everyday, speaking with parents, brothers, sisters, and friends. If we had as many opportunities to practice French or German as we did practicing Vietnamese, I guarantee we’d be pretty fluent. The problem is that with all the chances to speak Vietnamese, we choose not to. And that’s why we don’t speak as well as we should. And that’s a shame because here we are, in school, learning everyday some language that we might never even use, but refuse to learn and practice the language of our family and our roots.

Vietnamese isn’t just a language that we learn like a foreign language as a school requirement. It is a way for us to understand our identity and our history. And that means understanding what it’s like to be our grandparents, parents, uncles, aunts, and other people in the Vietnamese community who were born and grew up in this country. Since it’s difficult for these people to learn English, then it’s up to us to learn Vietnamese because we should want to know about our roots and having good relationships with the close people around us by being able to talk with them. Sometimes we get frustrated with our parents and say things like, “You’re in Australia, why don’t you speak what people here speak?” But think about it, with all the time they have to spend trying to put us and our brothers and sisters through school, buy us the clothes and the video games that we want, and paying for the house that we live in, do we really think they have the time to go learn English? And I wouldn’t even go there when it comes to our grandparents.

I realize that not all of us are just plain negative about Vietnamese. Many of us do care about being able to speak the language of our parents. And even though it’s difficult we try to do the best that we can. And I applaud you for it. Last week, I asked my ten year-old nephew Justin Le who lives in Garden Grove, California, why he wants to learn Vietnamese, he answered, “I think it’s important to learn Vietnamese because it is my native language and later in life, if I don't know how to speak this particular language, something will go wrong.” I think he meant not being able to appreciate about his culture and where his parents came from. And also his relationships with the people around him, like his grandparents who don’t speak a lot of English. That’s what his older sister Katarina said, when I asked her the same question. “I think it is unfortunate for other kids who don't want to learn or speak Vietnamese because it is part of your culture and you should talk to your family members in Vietnamese such as your grandparents,” she said.

I was curious what my niece Theresa Tran, a junior high school student in California, thought about learning Vietnamese, so I emailed her the question, and surprisingly she replied in Vietnamese. This is what she said:

“Cháu được 12 tuổi rồi, và cháu học tiếng Việt được 5 năm. Bây giờ cháu có thể viết luận văn và nói chuyện với người khác. Cứ mỗi Chúa Nhật cháu chỉ mong đến giờ để đi đến nhà thờ, tham dự lớp Việt ngữ, và học giáo lý.

Cháu nghĩ rằng việc học tiếng Việt rất quan trọng đối với cháu. Trước tiên, cháu có thể nói chuyện với ông bà ngoại và mọi người thân yêu. Hơn nữa cháu là người con gái Việt Nam nên cháu phải cần biết ngôn ngữ của quê hương mình.
Thật không may cho những người trẻ Việt Nam đã không cố gắng học tiếng mẹ. Cháu nghĩ sau này những bạn trẻ ấy sẽ cảm thấy lạc loài khi đến với cộng đồng người Việt. Và mất đi những cơ hội để biết về những điều hay trong văn hóa của dân tộc mình.”

After I read Theresa’s answer, I was impressed not only because she could write Vietnamese well, but also because she realized and understood what many people her age and even older fail to see. Still, Justin made a very true observation. “I think I know a few reasons why they don't want to learn Vietnamese,” he said. “It's too hard for them. The Vietnamese language has many tricks and ups and downs. The reason kids don't want to speak Vietnamese is because (like me) they are shy that they are speaking incorrectly.”

I sympathize with Justin. Right now, I work in Thailand and trying my best to learn how to speak Thai. It’s not easy. And like him, I often feel shy about speaking Thai to other people because I don’t know if I’m saying it right nor not. But believe me, when you practice enough, and once you start to understand, and people can understand you, it’s a wonderful feeling. As for us speaking Vietnamese, what else can be better than us understanding our parents and our parents understanding us?

Outside Our House

Saigon is a city unlike any other place in this world. Some people really like it, and some really hate it. It’s bustling, it’s chaotic, it’s full of noise and dust, it’s filled with motorbikes and cafés. People from all over Vietnam come to this city to make a living, to find opportunities, and to look for success. Some do, many don’t.

As a missionary, I have the opportunity to go to many places to witness the Good News of God to the people, especially those who are suffering from poverty, oppression, and illness. Five years ago, I was sent to Vietnam where I worked with young heroin addicts in this city. While in Saigon, I lived in a house facing a narrow but busy street in Phu Nhuan District. The roaring of motorbike engines starts early each day, about five in the morning, and lasts until late into the night. The house was 2.7 meters wide, 16 meters long, and three stories high. It was as narrow as the street on which I lived. From the livingroom, sometimes I would sit and look outside. Through the glass front door, in only ten minutes, the whole of humanity seemed to pass by.
A little boy made his way across the door, in his hand was a stick used for tapping on a piece of bamboo to create a rhythmic sound. That sound, everyone knew was the sound of hủ tiếu gõ. And the boy who produced that sound came from Quảng Ngãi Province in the Central Region. This area is one of the poorer areas of Vietnam, some families only make about 50 cents a day. Boys from such poor families would come to the city to sell hủ tiếu by wandering the alleyways, tapping on the bamboo piece to let the people know. If anyone called for a bowl of soup, he would bring it to them. Wandering the streets and alleyways from afternoon until late at night, he earned a mere 60 cents in wage each day.
Then a woman pushed a cart by – filled with glass bottles, plastics, cartons. She called out “Veee chaaai, bán”. Wandering the streets all day and late into the night collecting recyclable materials, she made about $1.30, which she would try to save to send back home in a faraway village in the North to raise her children.
Then a young man rode a cart selling vegetables; yet another selling mangoes, or durians, or bananas, or oranges – depending on what season it was. Then a crippled man made his way down the street pushing himself on a wooden board with wheels attached. He was going to a nearby church to beg as people came out of mass.
Then there was the endless parade of people, young and old passing by selling lottery tickets. One nine year old boy had been selling tickets for almost a year. One day, he asked me to buy some tickets. I told him I didn’t like to play lotto, but I’d give him some money instead. He refused, telling me that he wanted to sell lotto tickets, not beg for money. After all, as poor as he was, he still had his pride and dignity. One old woman making her way around the neighborhood with the help of a walking stick always had the same call: “Vé số độc đặc, chiều nay chiều nay” which meant: “Grand prize lottery happening this afternoon”.
Of course not everyone who passed by my front door was poor. There were plenty of people zooming down the chaotic street on high-priced motorbikes and expensive imported cars. There were tons of young people showing off trendy hairstyles and flashy clothes to match. They were on their way to cafés that sold drinks the price of a laborer’s daily wage. At night these same young people would be seen at clubs where Hennesy could be seen on virtually every table. But despite all the signs of people becoming more well-off, there were plenty to remind me that Vietnam still had a lot of poor folks.
I witnessed scenes of poverty without fail every time I looked out my door, and if anyone were to give any thought at all about what all this meant, they would feel pretty overwhelmed and helpless – so much poverty and hardship, and so little that we could do about it.
In the face of overwhelming amount of problems, it’s easier for us to lock our door, and pull the blinds so that we don’t have to deal with the relentless scene of poverty in front of our eyes. It’s a way for us to protect our sanity, living in this painful world.
This month, Dân Chúa Magazine invites us to look at the situation of the Catholic Church in Vietnam. I would like to take this even further for the readers of Modern Talkings. How about taking a look at our relationship with the poor people in our homeland, which is also the homeland of our mothers and fathers? For better or for worse, Vietnam is where it all started for us. It is where our fathers and mothers were born and raised. It is where many of us were born. And it is where many of us have visited, or heard stories about. Without this country and all that happened to the people who lived in it, we would not be where we are today.
We don’t live in a poor country now, although this doesn’t mean that around us there is no poverty. Yet, we are also asked to look further than we usually do. First we start by looking outside our front door. Then we look to our neighborhood, then to our homeland, and then to the entire world. If we don’t care to look, then we cannot see what it is that need our compassion and help. If we don’t care to look, then we cannot see where our energy and talent are needed and what is desired of us. Compassion for others begin with us being attentive to the need of others, especially those who are poorest and weakest. We are asked to share what we have with our brother and sisters, starting with the ones immediately around us.
Outside my front door in Vietnam, there was a sandwich stand. In the morning, I often saw a pair of college roommates from the countryside come there to buy sandwiches for breakfast. They always bought the cheapest one, with the least amount of meat. Then one morning towards the end of the month, I saw them as usual. One of them ordered his sandwich. But the other didn’t. So his friend asked him, “Why don’t you get your sandwich?”
He stammered, “I…uhh…I’m not hungry this morning.”
His friend understood and didn’t ask further. He took his sandwich, split it in two, and handed a half to him.
“Here, let’s share this,” the friend said, smiling.
The two friends, each took a portion, and ate their halves of the sandwich as they walked side by side to school.
I was very moved by how the friends treated one another. Perhaps this incident wouldn’t have been so memorable to me had the friend who could afford the sandwich gave away his sandwich, or simply taken out his money to buy another sandwich, so each of them would have one. I suppose I remember it because the poor college student took his small sandwich and broke it in two, so he could share with a friend. It is a beautiful gesture of sharing what we have with others even though we don’t have much to offer.
All of us are asked to share what we have with those around us. We share with the people in our family and in our school. We share with the people in our city and in our homeland. And we share with the people in our world. What we ought to do first is to take a long and hard look and what is around us, then after that take a long and hard look at what we have, whether it is energy, talent, money, or anything that God has given for us to use. When it comes to sharing with others, there are a million and one ways to do so if we are sincere enough, and creative enough.
Let us then start by not just sitting comfortably inside our livingroom looking out to the street, watching the world go by apathetically. Let us open the door of our house, the door of our heart, and run to the side of the suffering people outside our doorsteps, in our homeland, and for that matter all over the world.

The Exploitation of Vietnamese Girls

Let’s say you’re a man in your fourties or fifties from Malaysia, Singapore, Korea, or Taiwan. You’re single or have been divorced. You’re unemployed or don’t have a great job. You may even have a physical disability. You want to get married but the women in your country don’t want to marry you because you don’t meet their criteria. What do you do? The answer is easy. You look for a pretty girl from Vietnam, one who comes from a poor village and is willing to marry a foreign man twice her age because she is told to believe that this will help improve her life. She is living in a poor situation, so she easily believes that anything else will help change the present state of things.

Because of the need for men to find wives, in these countries there are dozens of services set up to assist them in finding a bride. On the streets of Korea, there are banners advertising Vietnamese brides for Korean men, even if they are handicapped! In Taiwan, Vietnamese brides are advertised on television. In Malaysia, Vietnamese girls are put on display at trade fairs. In Singapore, there are websites that advertise services assisting men in this country looking for a Vietnamese bride.

Lifepartnermatchmaker.com is one such website. It advertises young virgin Vietnamese girls from the village selected for men from Singapore to marry. According to the website, “Since Aug. 2004, we have started to bring in these young & decent Vietnamese girls for local guy to meet and marry. Visit us today you may surprise to see such pretty girls sitting there. Our girls all are from village; they were carefully selected, interviewed and tested (???) by our director personally. They are ready and sincere to marry.”

In Singapore, going to get a Vietnamese girl to marry seems not much different from going to the department store to purchase a household appliance because they have a “Walk-in Selection in the Office”! And if the men aren’t happy with the choices in the office, they can take a bride selection tour to Vietnam that starts at a bargain price of 388 dollars, which includes transportation, meals, accommodation, bride selection, and even virginity test!!

If you’re reading this far and you haven’t become shocked and horrified at what I’m saying, then you got some serious problems. In fact, there is much more to say about the situation with Vietnamese brides in these countries, but I would need a lot more than two pages in order to go into details the all sorts of things that bring about this reality. However, what I want to reflect in this article is to use the situation of Vietnamese brides in order to talk about how we treat other people, specifically women and the poor in our society. Because that’s exactly what Vietnamese brides are – girls who come from poor villages, and are told to believe that by marrying an older man from Taiwan, Korea, Singapore, or Malaysia, they can turn their life and the life of their family around. As a result, they are willing to allow themselves to be looked over, to be picked, to be tested for virginity, and to be transported to another country like merchandise. If they are lucky, they can actually become the wife of the man who picked them (even though life will certainly not be easy). But if they are not, they suffer all sorts of problems. Many turn out to be the second wife of the husband, are forced to live in their house like maids. Many are beaten, some are even duped and sold into bars and brothels to work as prostitutes. Living in a foreign land, not knowing the language, not having people around to defend them, young Vietnamese women become victims of emotional, physical, and sexual brutality at the hands of many men who married them. They also become victims of men who pretend to marry them but in fact bring them to their country for other purposes.

Reading about this, you may feel bad for these Vietnamese girls. But then you tell yourself: Wow! That’s really terrible. But what can I do? Vietnam is far away. This doesn’t really concern me. This is one problem that I have no idea how to help.

I can’t really say I blame you if you thought this way. The problem, in fact, is very complicated. And unless you are really interested in this issue and find out about what ways you can participate in fighting for the dignity of not only Vietnamese women but women all over the world, reading this article may not affect you much at all.

Why then is it important for us to know about this problem? I think there are several reasons why we want to highlight this issue:

1) This is an issue that involves our own fellow Vietnamese. From the villages where your mother or your aunt may once have lived, girls are being married off in undignified ways. Sure, these girls are voluntarily saying yes to marriage. They are not being taken away in chains. But then, how much do they know about what they are putting themselves into? Are they being explained clearly about everything involved? Once they go to these countries, are their rights protected? These girls look like your sisters, cousins, and friends. And if you’re a girl, they look like yourself! The only difference between you and them is that you are lucky enough to be living in a prosperous country where your human diginity is better protected, but these girls are not so lucky.

2) This is an issue that involves how the poor are treated in our world. Poor people are taken advantaged of in all sorts of ways. They are exploited in the work place, disadvantaged in the economic, political, and educational system. Poor people are often treated as means for other people to make a buck. And agreeing to marry in this way is one more way of being exploited by people who are stronger and richer and more clever than them.

3) Finally, this is an issue that involves women. In society, girls and women are often the ones who have to face all sorts of discrimination. For example, in Vietnam, if all the children in the family cannot go to school, most of the time, it’s the daughter who has to quit first while the boy is allowed to continue studying. Similarly, many girls who agree to marry foreign men do so as a sacrifice for their family. In the U.S. where society is supposed to be more advanced and equal, statistics indicate that women continue to make lower salary than men, even though they are not necessarily doing less work. And in many countries throughout the world, women are being mistreated in unimaginable ways.

In Australia where you are living, maybe the problem of Vietnamese brides is not easily seen. But we don’t have to see the problem of Vietnamese brides in order to see that there are many other problems, and many of them have to do with the way we treat our fellow human beings, the way we treat the poor, and the way we treat women.
In this article, I would like to address a challenge to you to look around you and see what ways other people are being exploited or mistreated simply because they are poor or weak. We may not be able to solve the problems of Vietnamese brides from where we are, but we can certainly do something about the problems that are immediately around us – in our family, in our neighborhood, and in our city. Anywhere we live, there are organizations set up to address the social issues in our world. We can even set up our own groups to tackle the problems. All it takes is looking around to see what group we can join to help.

We can also do something about our own heart and the way we look at other people. How do we feel about the poor people in our midst? When we walk on the street and see homeless people, is our heart filled with compassion or fear and disdain? Are we apathetic when we witness other people mistreated? If everyone starts out by changing our hearts and solving the problems closest to us, then eventually all the problems in the world can be taken care of. And that includes the problem of Vietnamese girls being put on display in stores for customers to browse and take their pick.

(Dân Chúa Úc Châu, số tháng 7.2007)

Log out of the chatroom and login to reality

It’s probably disturbing to hear, but nowadays many of us are having relationships not with people, but with machines! Sounds weird right? Well, you might be one of them. No, you say? Let me ask you this, when was the last time you yelled at your computer when it froze on you? Or when was the last time you thanked your computer because it did what you wanted it to do? I bet some of you even talk to your computer from time to time. No, I don’t mean using your computer to talk to a friend living in another city or country, but actually talking to your machine like it can really hear, understand, and sympathize with what you’re saying. The experts are finding out that many people relate to their computer like it has feelings, and are even afraid to make their computer upset!

Nowadays, it’s not at all uncommon that the computer is the one thing in our life that we spend the most time with. Forget about mothers, brothers, or friends, the computer has replaced our parents, our siblings, and our pals. Have a problem? Go on the internet and google an answer. Bored? Turn on the computer and play games. Need a friend to talk to? Join a chat room and talk to countless anonymous people all over the world.

The computer has become the main gateway to happiness and fun for so many of us. With that much time spent with something, it’s inevitable that we begin to form a bond with the machine. But of course, we don’t just have relationships with computers alone. There are plenty of other machines that we pay attention to as well. I mean, when you’re riding on the bus or the subway, you gotta leave the computer at home. So, now comes the Ipod. Ever since this little machine was invented, lots of things have changed. You get on the train for a ride and you’ll see about half of the people have their ears tuned in to what’s playing on their Ipod or some other MP3 player. The Ipod makes sure that no matter where we go, we’ll never be bored because we’ve got our favorite tunes playing at the press of a button. You can be sitting in a crowded bus for an hour ride and see that no one really talks to each other, but many have got their ears attached to headsets. And the ones who aren’t listening to music are staring unconsciously at signboards along the sides of the road.

I know. Some of you may argue that the computer and the internet “connect” people because you can send out an email to a friend on some remote island on the other side of the world in mere seconds, and you can Skype your pals in Europe for free, or get to know total strangers from Africa without having to ever set foot outside of your bedroom. All that’s true. And I grant you the internet is reaaaallly wonderful. I don’t know what I would do without it.

But let me ask you this. When was the last time you sat down and chat with your dad for an hour, even though you’d spend hours and hours at a time chatting with some total stranger who plays the same online game as you? When was the last time you played ball with your little brother, and used actual balls instead of the mouse or the joystick? When was the last time you made friends with a real person outside that you can see their whole face, body, and can shake hands with?

True. People on the internet are people too, even though a lot of times, they lie about their gender, their age, their height, where they live, and whether they’re axe murderers or not. But the way I see it, if you can’t see someone’s face and smell their perfume/cologne or their breath, then it’s still not the real thing. Maybe some of us prefer it that way. When we spend time with the computer and the people on the internet, we do it the way we like it. If we don’t like some one in chat room A, we click on to chat room B. We can be 15 years old and tell the other person we’re 25, and they’ll still believe us. We can do and say all sorts of things and get away with it. And if we don’t feel like talking anymore, just log out.

Spending time with the computer is way easier than spending time with our family or even our friends outside. When we talk to people that we know, we can’t be saying things that are obviously false. Outside, we deal with real people with real issues. We see them and they see us. We know them and they know us. When there’s something difficult, we can’t just log out and shut down. But that’s what life is about. That’s what’s real.

Unfortunately, nowadays too many of us don’t like the real thing. We prefer the artificial, uncomplicated, made up world on the internet. We laugh, cry, get angry, hug, and even give kisses to people online, using the various “emotion” icons on the computer. But at the end of the day, none of those things leave us a warm feeling inside that’s hard to describe as when two people are actually laughing with one another, hugging one another, and kissing one another. Poets write poems about a gentle hug or a romantic kiss, but you’ll never see them extolling the beauty of an online laugh, hug, or kiss. The fact is giving someone an online hug has sentimental value less than giving someone a piece of old chewing gum.

You’re probably saying you know this and you can separate the real world from the fake world. Still, the way I see it, most of us are really great at avoid having relationships with the people around us. When we’re at home, we lock ourselves in the bedroom, most likely doing something on the computer. When we’re in the car, we’ve got music blasting on the stereo. When we’re on the metro, we have our ears glued to Ipod.

But when we do this, we’re really missing out because we don’t let ourselves have the opportunity to enjoy the people all around us, and the random friendliness that may occur. Let’s say you ride on a bus and see a girl or guy that you think is really really cute. But if that person’s got his/her ears attached to headseats, how could you ever strike up a conversation and let that person know you like them? And if you happen to be the cute one, how can anyone tell you if you’re too busy listening to music. In the end, you might even miss out on a great boy/girlfriend. You’ll never get any of those feelings that come from holding hands or a hug, or a gentle kiss. All you have left are those silly Yahoo Messenger icons that represent supposedly what your emotions are.

If you don’t know by now, life is about having relationships with real people, the ones who live with you, who you see at school, on the street, in your neighborhoods, and at your work. If you cannot have good relationships with these people, then it’s useless to try having good relationships with people who live faraway or who you cannot even see. The peoples close to you should be the ones you invest your time and emotions in first. You find love and friendship through these people because you can get to know them the best and they also know you the best. They are the ones who make you feel the most pain, but also the greatest love. The people around you show real emotions with their face. And they also want to see the same from you. Life is not found in chat rooms. Friendship is not just about sharing an interest in the same online game. And love is not about YM icons.

There is much for all of us to discover. We can do it on the computer. Through the internet, we can go many places far and wide. But don’t forget that all around us, there are still so many things we have yet to see and understand, and there are many people for us to get to know. So you have to decide. Do you want to have real relationships with real people or are you happy spending your days and nights with just online games, chatrooms, and artificial hugs and kisses?

Mother Dearest

Every month, Dân Chúa Úc Châu magazine gives me space for an article written for English speaking readers, especially those in the teen and young adult age group. Every month before the deadline, I sift through ideas in my head and try my best to come up with something that might be of interest to those who care to read what I have to say. To be honest, it’s not an easy task. There are so many things I could talk about, and yet I wonder if any of it is worth reading. It’s not that the topics that come to my mind aren’t important or relevant, but I keep asking myself: “Are they going to say ‘Jeez, there’s another article on so and so…how boring!’”

But this month, the month of May, I’m going to risk it. I’m going to talk about something that’s been said over and over before. I’m going to talk about….mothers. Still if we think about it, it never really gets old talking about someone who is as important to our life as the one who gives us life. The more we talk about them, the more we are able to appreciate who they are and what they do for us.

A while back, a newspaper in Vietnam sponsored an essay writing contest on the topic of “My Mother”. They received 1,199 responses from all over Vietnam. When the judges read all the entries, to their surprise, they found that the vast majority of the sons and daughters who wrote about their mothers had one thing in common. In over 90 per cent of the essays, the author expressed some regret that they had never recognized, appreciated, or did enough to repay for all the love and sacrifices that their mothers had done for them…until it was too late. When they discovered the true value of a mother’s love, she was already gone.

In life, one thing is for sure. It doesn’t matter who you are – you can be the Pope, the President of the United States, a priest, a burger flipper at McDonald’s, or a drug addict – you have a mother. For some people who are unlucky, they have lost their mother early in life. Others have mothers who don’t know how to take care of their children very well. But for most people, they have mothers who love them, sacrifice themselves for them, and adore them. And if the mother is lucky in life, she has children who adore her back.

But in Vietnamese, there is a saying that goes like this: “Tears never flow upward”. What this proverb means is that it’s always the parents who worry over their children. They stay up at night trying to figure out the best ways to take care of their children. They lose sleep when their children become sick or get into trouble. They work two or three jobs to buy the things that their children need or want. But hardly is it ever the other way around. We children sleep soundly at night without knowing what our mothers and fathers are doing. When our parents get sick, we don’t sit and worry like the way they do for us. Tears always flow downward!

I still remember vividly a bittersweet memory that I have with my mother. When I was about 13 years old, my older brother got into a big argument with my father. My brother decided to take his clothes and move out of the house. My mother couldn’t stop him from doing this foolish thing. But her heart ached for him. And when her heart ached, she would sing. She sang songs about a mother’s love for her children.

Ever since I was small, I had heard my mum sing on many different occasions. She sang to lull me to sleep. She sang in church. She sang at wedding receptions. I remember my mother had a good voice. And whenever she sang “Lòng mẹ bao la như biển thái bình dạt dào,” from the sound of her voice, I could feel in my heart that she meant every word.

So when my brother left the house, my mother comforted herself by singing these same songs. One day, she asked me to give her a cassette recorder. Back then, we were still using cassette recorders, and CD players were just becoming popular. She told me to push the record button, and she started to sing. She poured her heart and soul into that tape recorder that afternoon, as I sat and quietly listened to how painful it was for a mother to have to stand and watch her son make mistakes in life.

I have no idea what I did with that cassette tape. We probably threw it out the trash when we did spring cleaning, or moved house. But sometimes when I think about that tape, I regret so much that at that time I did not see how valuable it would be for me.

There are many things that our mother offers us but we have a hard time seeing because we don’t think it’s really important. When she buys us clothes, we don’t wear it because it’s the wrong style and our friends would laugh at us. When she hugs us in public, we get embarrassed because we don’t want to be seen as mama’s boy or mommy’s little girl. When she reminds us to do our homework so that we will have a better future than her, we call it nagging. When she gives us advice with some problems we’re facing, we call it meddling in our business.

Last week, I received a letter from my mother in Orange County, California. It wasn’t just an email, or a Yahoo Messenger or MSN message, but an honest to goodness letter written by hand on white paper, sent through airmail with stamps on the envelope. In her letter, my mum wrote:

I wish that you will always learn good and right things from the people around you, because you are still young. You are new to living in the world, with little experience. So you have to try to learn from those who are above you. I share with you what is in my heart, but as I write this, I wonder if you would think…. ‘I already know, you don’t need to remind me….’ Still, it is a mother’s way to remind and give advice. Perhaps one day in the future, I will not be able to hold a pen…or will not have an opportunity to speak. So whenever I am able to speak I should do it, don’t you think?What my mom said in the letter is very true. It is something we don’t think about or don’t even like to think about, but there will be a day when there will not be any letter, any advice, any reminders from mum. And when that happens, even if we long for any word, even a little ‘nag’ we’re not going to get it.

If in over 1000 essays about mothers, over 90% of the author expressed regret at not having done enough to show appreciation for their mothers until it was too late, I think chances are very high that each of us will also be included in that number. In a way, it’s almost impossible to not have regret. After all, considering how much our mother do for us, can anything that we do ever be enough to repay her? It’s inevitable that we’ll end up wishing that we could have said something more or done something more.

Still, regrets don’t have to be absolute. For me that’s what I am trying to do. I live half the world away from my mother now, but daily I think about her. I pray for her, and whenever I can, I give her a call. Even now, as a priest, and as a missionary, the encouragement, the words of comfort, the prayers, and the advice from mum, they are all important to me. I don’t think it really matters in life who you are, you can’t go wrong if you’re willing to listen to your mother just a little bit more.

So, this is my take on what mothers are like and how we should be with our mothers. I hope this short article inspires you to give a little bit more thought about your relationship with the woman who gave you life. So the next time, when you see your mother wipe the sweat off her eyebrows, when you see her kneel on her knees and pray the rosary, when you see her pull into the driveway from grocery shopping at the supermarket, when she scolds you for not having done the dishes on time, when you see her crash down on the sofa after a full day working at the nail salon, you’ll see and know and understand that, she’s doing all of that for you. And then you’ll remember to thank God for having a mother like that in your life.

Young People Also Care

It was the eve of Tết Nguyên Đán 2007, and the major streets of Sài Gòn were full of people, especially the streets in District 1 like Đồng Khởi, Lê Lợi, and Nguyễn Huệ where the New Year Flower Festival was taking place. Even though many people living and working in Việt Nam’s largest city had already gone to their home provinces to celebrate Tết with their family, on this night, Sài Gòn still seemed as bustling as ever.

I had been assigned to mission in Thailand, but was fortunate enough to be able to drop by Việt Nam during this most sacred holiday to celebrate with relatives and friends. I could not resist joining the crowds of Saigonese, mostly young people, as they made their ways down the various streets to bring in the Year of the Pig. I took a friend on the back of a motorbike that I borrowed from my cousin and we navigated through the chaotic city streets to take in the festive air all around us. But our fun could only last until 11 o’clock. Because at this time, I had made an appointment with a group of young people to help them do something very important.

This group of young Saigonese knew that on a night like this, while most people were making merry with family and friends, there were in fact many people in the city who had to go hungry, who had no one to share the holiday joy with, and had no one to wish them a happy and prosperous new year. Through their connection with an overseas charity group, they managed to have the fund to buy gifts that they would distribute to people who were wandering the streets late at night because they had nowhere to go. It was hoped that these small gifts of food and sweets would bring a little bit of joy to these people who were so miserable.

At 11 o’clock, the members of the group gathered at Thảo’s house in Tân Bình District. The leader of the group distributed the gifts to everyone present and divided up the ‘territories’. One group would go to District 1, another to District 4, and so on. I was assigned to the group that would distribute the gifts to the people in Gò Vấp District. The young people, two for each motorbike, with bags of gifts in hand, started to take off to their assigned destinations.

From Lê Văn Sỹ street in Tân Bình District, I and my companions made our way out to Trường Sơn, then to Nguyễn Thái Sơn, then to Bến Hải. At first, we could not find anyone to give the gifts to. We rode around for nearly an hour and the two large bags I had on my motorbike were still full. Khiêm, who went with me on my motorbike said anxiously, “I hope we don’t have to take these gifts home.”

I myself became a bit impatient. It was nearly one o’clock and I was getting a backache from riding around. But just as our worries peaked, we spotted a man wandering aimlessly on the street, his head in bandage. He had just come out of a nearby hospital. We stopped and inquired what happened. He told us he had been selling vé số, but was stopped and beaten up by a gang of men, no doubt gamblers or drug addicts. They took his money. He had gone to the hospital emergency room. He was told that he needed a scan, but he had no money. So they bandaged him up haphazardly and let him go. But he had nowhere to go, and no money to treat his wound. In the pocket of his worn out shirt, a stack of lotto tickets remain unsold. We gave him two portions of the gifts and an extra 100.000 đồng, but that was hardly enough compared to what he really needed.

Just as we turned the corner, we spotted four elderly people walking one behind the other. From afar, we could tell that their clothes were torn and ragged. I made a U-turn and stopped by their side. We greeted them and they stopped to return the greetings. Their accent told us that they were not Vietnamese but belonged to one of the ethnic minorities. From faraway, they looked poor, but when we saw them close up, they were simply pitiful. Parts of their hands were missing, parts of their feet were missing, and parts of their faces were missing. They had bandages in numerous places. These people were stricken with leprosy. We did not have time to ask where they were going and why they were wandering the streets. But we offered each person our small gift, gift that they could not accept with their fingerless hands, but had to receive with their old nón lá.

After the ‘dry spell’ of not meeting any poor people on the streets for nearly an hour, we came upon one after another after another – people who had no place to go or wherever they were going was not much to look forward to. At two in the morning on the day of Tết, a blind man was still holding his hat out begging in front of a Buddhist temple. A group of people were sleeping on the cement steps of a store. An old cyclo rider was still on the street corner waiting to be hired. And there were many others just like them. Our fear of having to take the gifts home turned out to be our disappointment and sadness at not having enough packages to hand out.

I have now left Việt Nam for my mission in Thailand, but since then I have been thinking a lot about this New Year’s Eve night. Even though I related mostly about the poor people that we were looking for and trying to bring a bit of happiness to, these days I am not thinking so much about them. As I write this article for the young readers of Dân Chúa Magazine, I am thinking more of the young friends in Sài Gòn who spent their New Year’s Eve in a vastly different way than most people in the city.

On that night, while everywhere you went in the city, you can see people having parties, sharing in drinks, congregating in joyous places, there was a group of young people who set their priority somewhere else. And that place was the dark corners of the city where the homeless slept, the cold streets where the poor wandered with no particular place to go, and the cement benches where the downtrodden sat to rest but had nothing to wait for.

These young people of Sài Gòn could have easily gone out to have fun at one of the many places that their peers were congregating in the city. If they had, no one would have complained or questioned them. After all, it was the eve of Tết, the biggest holiday there was in Việt Nam. They could have easily chosen another day to distribute the gifts. After all, tomorrow the poor would still be with us. Or the next day, or the day after that. There would never be a shortage of poor people. Instead, these compassionate young people felt that it was most meaningful if they shared with the poor, even if only in a modest way, during the first minutes and hours of the New Year. They wanted to bring just a little bit of joy to these miserable people during these sacred moments.

In recent years, young people in Việt Nam, and for that matter, young people all over the world continue to be the target of much anxiety, discomfort, and restlessness for parents, teachers, and leaders. Teachers worry that their students will go down the path of drugs and alcohol. Parents are afraid that their children will become addicted to internet porn. Leaders are afraid that young people can’t be responsible for the fate of the country in the future. As a priest, I have some of the same worries. Yet, when I consider the group of young people that I was lucky enough to share a brief time with on New Year’s Eve in Việt Nam, I feel much more optimism and greater peace of mind.

I decided to write this article because I believe that this sort of awareness, compassion, enthusiasm, and good-will exhibited by this group of young people does not have to be rare, isolated, and extraordinary. Instead, it can be very widespread and routine. It is my hope that by writing about them, the young people who read this article will become ‘infected’ by their spirit and display this spirit in your own family, in your own community, and in the entire world.

Graduation Address at Catholic Theological Union, 2006

NB: Đây là bài thuyết trình của tôi trong buổi ra trường tại Trường Thần Học Liên Dòng ở thành phố Chicago, USA tháng 5, năm 2006.

Distinguished guests, professors, family, friends, and fellow graduates, tonight’s event marks the conclusion of an admirable intellectual and spiritual undertaking by all of us. Perhaps in the imagination of esoteric minds, it is difficult to determine whether this ceremony symbolizes the end, the beginning, the end of a beginning, or even the beginning of an end. However, I would like to relate a story that I learned as I began my education in the first grade to make meaning out of something that looks like the end of a long journey and the beginning of perhaps an even longer one.

This is a legend that all Vietnamese first graders learn in school. In around 250 BC, Vietnam was being attacked by foreign invaders. So the king sent messengers everywhere to find someone who could drive the invaders out.

In the village of Phu Dong lived a couple, who had been married for a long time but had no children. One morning, on the way to the rice paddy, the woman saw an unusually large footprint in the soil. Surprised, she put her foot on it. Soon after this she got pregnant and later gave birth to a boy, whom they named Giong. Three years had passed, but he could neither sit up, nor could he say a word.

One day, the king's messenger came to Phu Dong. Hearing the messenger, Giong suddenly sat up and told his parents to invite the messenger in. Giong asked the messenger to tell the king that he needed an iron horse, armor and an iron rod to fight the invaders.

So the king gathered all the blacksmiths in the country together. The villagers brought everything that was iron. And they all worked day and night to make a huge iron horse, a large armor and a long iron rod.

In the meantime Giong said he was hungry and wanted to eat. So his parents brought him all the rice they had. But it didn’t last. The boy ate and ate and ate. As he ate, he began to grow more and more. The villagers had to bring their rice to him, and cooked day and night to feed the boy.

When the iron horse, the armor and the rod were finished, Giong stretched his arms, stood up, and transformed into a giant. He put on the armor, seized the rod, and quickly mounted the iron horse. The horse roared like thunder and breathed fire from its nostrils.

When he saw the enemies, Giong sped forward straight into to the invaders. The fire from the nostrils of the iron horse burned many of them to death. Giong killed the enemies, striking them with his iron rod. When the rod broke, Giong pulled scores of bamboo trees from a nearby forest to fight the enemies.

After defeating the invaders, Giong rode his horse up Socson Mountain, where he removed his armor and disappeared into the heaven. People called him since Thánh Giống, “Thánh” meaning Holy. A temple in his memory can still be found not far from the place where he ascended, and every year there is a festival to honor Giong.
Fellow graduates, tonight, after our names have been called, and the diplomas have been handed out, all of us are ready to embark on the journey to put into action the things we have theorized and debated about from the comfortable seats of our classroom.

Whether we like it or not, the years of being cradled at CTU have come to an end. Countless people have garnered the effort to prepare our horse, armor, and rod. It took the dedication of families and religious communities, superiors and professors, friends and even entire parish communities, to give us our horse and armor. It took the strength of Paul, Peter and John, Aquinas and Bonaventure, Rahner and Ratzinger, and countless others to give us our iron rod. We have been fed and clothed with knowledge, thoughts, traditions, experiences, and emotions of an entire village of grandmothers, farmers, scholars, refugees, immigrant workers, and martyrs.

So we embark on our journey as giants, even if only miniature giants, not through anything we’ve done on our own, but thanks to all that others have done for us. As I remember the story from my childhood, I am reminded of Isaac Newton’s declaration: “If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.” I’d like to think that the giants envisioned by Newton are not only those whose legacies have been safeguarded by the written annals of humanity, but also those whose lives and achievements can only be witnessed by the earth and sky between which they move. Yet their impact upon others was no less profound. I am certain that each of us here can easily recall such figures in our lives if given only seconds to reflect.

And so we march forth, not just tackling the issues and problems of our whim and passions, but confront those things for which we have been prepared and sent. We survived and grew big on the rice of an entire village. So upon crossing the threshold that separates the learning from practice, theory from reality, and what might be from what is, we are responsible for fighting the battles of our martyrs and of our mothers. We fight the battle of scholars who saw a grander vision of how things could be. We fight the battle of farmers who desire nothing more than to till their land. And we fight the battle of refugees who long to find a place to call home. All the while, we are conscious that we are neither the first nor the last to struggle for justice, to preach peace, to proclaim God’s mercy, or even to die for our conviction. And how we engage in our mission is but a measure of all that has gone before us and an indication of what might be after.

What happens when all is done? Returning to the story, we see that our hero Giong galloped up Soc Son Mountain, where he took off his armor and disappeared. He did not come back to Phu Dong Village to obtain his reward, to lead a life of luxury, or to be honored with titles. The last image that anyone saw of this remarkable individual who was fed and armed by the villagers of Phu Dong was his back as he disappeared into the heights of the mountain, leaving behind on the soil only the imprints of the feet of his giant horse.

My fellow graduates, let us set out on our journey to do the things entrusted to us by our people and our God. And when all is done, Come, let us climb the Lord’s mountain, to the house of the God of Jacob, the God of Ishmael, the God of Ghandhi and the God of all the Asian martyrs. Let us leave behind nothing but distant sounds of our footsteps and the fading traces of our footprints. In the end, all that is left is joy, for how beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of those who bring glad tidings, announcing peace, bearing good news, proclaiming salvation, and saying to Zion, "Your God is King!"

Thank you and may God bless each and everyone one you!

Lost in the high

Behind the gray walls of a drug rehab center in Saigon, Vietnam, 25 young men were undergoing their second day of detox. All were heroin addicts, some as young as 16 years old. All were city boys, many of whom started on ‘hàng trắng’ because they wanted to be seen as ‘dân chơi’ and ‘sành điệu’ by their friends. They came from different family backgrounds, some poor, some rich; but on this second day when their bloodstreams had run dry of heroin, all were suffering from the effects of withdrawal – excruciating pain, hot and cold sweats, sleeplessness, nausea, and the horrible feeling of ‘dòi bò’ in which it felt like there were worms crawling inside their very bones. One boy who needed a lot of medicine to lessen the pain became delirious from side effects. He kept stripping off his clothes and staggered around the room, his naked body were marked by numerous tattoos that testified to the kind of life he’s had.

I came to the bedside of Tuan, who was groaning from the pain that surged in his body. Normally, Tuan’s day consisted of two ‘cử’ of heroin – one in the morning, and one in the evening. But today, he had none. When he saw me, he moaned, “Anh ơi, em đau quá!”

I reached out to hold his hand, only to find in his sweaty palm a folded strip of paper containing the 15 Mysteries that people used when praying the Rosary. “My mum gave me these,” he said. “Can you read them to me?”

I took the wrinkled paper from his hand and started to read. Half way through the Our Father prayer, tears started to well up in Tuan’s eyes and rolled rapidly down the sides of his face onto the white hospital bed spreads. “It’s been nearly ten years since I’ve stepped inside a church,” he said under his breath. “Why’s that?” I asked.

Tuan turned onto his side facing me, readjusted the saline solution bag being administered on his arm, and recounted his story. For the first three years, when he had embarked on the adventure with heroin, he was rebellious and having too much fun to think about church or going to confession. But the fun didn’t last. He got arrested for pushing heroin and was put in prison for the next three years. After he got out, he found his ways back to heroin. Sometimes church entered Tuan’s mind, but suffering from guilt and the firm grasp of heroin, he couldn’t get himself to go to Mass. And when he did, he only stood leaning against the fence on the churchgrounds. As close as he was to Jesus waiting for him beyond those walls, Tuan could not find his way inside. He was lost and trapped in his world of grabbing purses and mobile phones from unsuspecting people on Saigon’s chaotic streets, deceiving friends and family, and endless searching for the next heroin high.

In our world of several billion young people, Tuan was only one of countless more who had lost their ways and didn’t know where to go next. He was pushed, pulled, and ravaged by fun that turned into suffering, highs that became dark abyss, and rewards that became punishment. From the streets of Saigon to the housing projects of southside Chicago, from the high school classroom of Tokyo to the suburbs of Sydney, young people are turning to clothes and car, internet porn and premarital sex, crystal meth and heroin to fill up their days and nights. And few realize that these things are only fun until something goes awry – an unwanted pregnancy, a deadly accident, or an overdose.
But those who do find themselves struggling to resist the current sweeping at them with tsunami strength force. That’s why we can’t help but ask ourselves the question: When we are being tossed in this world of a million attractions, all promising to be the thing that we need and want above all else, which way do we go?

And what if we refused to listen to any of the messages bombarding our ears and eyes like email SPAM that won’t go away, which way do we go?

And if we refused to get caught up in material things and short-lived amusements, which way do we go?

My experience with Tuan in the Saigon rehab center keeps telling me that he had the right idea when he decided to make his way to the front gate of the church. He knew that there was something beyond those church doors that could save him from the nightmare that was his young life. Unfortunately, he didn’t have enough faith, confidence, or courage to take those heavy steps beyond the fence, to walk inside the church, where he would encounter the only person who was powerful enough, who was loving enough, who was merciful enough, and who was forgiving enough to set him off on an entirely new way of life. And that person was Jesus Christ.

Tuan didn’t know that if anyone were able to heal him of his pain and suffering, it would have been Jesus. And he didn’t realize that if anyone were going to free him from his heroin addiction, it would also have been Jesus.

The way to Jesus was never meant to be such a difficult path. It is as easy as walking into a church. But Jesus isn’t just waiting for us inside the church, He is also reaching out to us through friends and strangers, whispering to us in the middle of a sleepless night, and listening to us every moment we care to pray to Him. The way to Jesus is so near, yet can be so far. But He is far only because we choose to ignore Him at every turn, shut our ears to every mention of Him, and close our minds at every thought of Him.

Only one day after I read to Tuan the Our Father prayer, he jumped the gate of the rehab center and escaped, still in his white hospital clothes. The withdrawal symptoms were too much for him to bear. And my guess is that once he made it past the gate, his next stop would be some place where he could get a desperately needed fix. But Tuan wasn’t the only one who jumped the gate during those days, a few more followed suit. By the end of the 10-day detox program, only 20 of the original number remained. Of those 20, over 10 tested positive for HIV – the virus that has made its way into the body of hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese, most of whom are from the ages of 15 to 30.

I still often wonder what happened to this young man who held on to my hands and cried one day, only to flee the center the next. If he is like many of his peers, he might have been arrested and sent to government camps, or perhaps caught HIV from sharing needles and would eventually die of AIDS, or suffer an overdose in some dark karaoke room or under a dirty bridge.

I never heard from Tuan again after that. But in my heart, I always carry a small hope that Tuan would no longer just lean against the fence looking towards the church but didn’t dare to take the potentially life-changing steps inside. I hope that he would somehow work up the courage and determination to find his way to Jesus. And if he were to choose that way, it would make all the difference!