At a sidewalk cafe overlooking the leafy streets of Hanoi , my friend Thao and I share bowls of bun cha, a grilled pork and noodle dish for which this northern Vietnamese city is famous. We talk of our dreams and plans, as motorbikes clog the streets alongside us, rushing home as dusk falls In this 1,000-year-old city.
Here Chinese bridges link pagodas lining placid silver lakes. Crumbling Gallic buildings, strong cheeses and rich pastries recall the era of French colonialism. Stark Soviet-built apartment blocks and the ubiquitous statues of Ho Chi Minh serve as constant reminders of communism. It seems I am as far as can be from the raw hardscrabble Oklahoma red-dirt prairie towns where my parents grew to adulthood during the Great Depression.
And yet as I made friends among the professors and students at the Hanoi University of Mining and Geology where I taught last year, I felt I was hearing again the stories of my parents, retold on a different continent. Many of the values we admire in the Greatest Generation, who survived the Great Depression and World War II, now flourish in Vietnam.
Like the Greatest Generation, Vietnamese have lived through war and its aftermath, fighting what they called the American War on their own soil. The older generation, including many women, served as combat veterans. I was surprised when visiting a village where those damaged by dioxin (Agent Orange), were treated, to be greeted by so many women who had carried guns through the jungle.
The Vietnamese battled the austerity of the post-war period, when food was scarce and living was harsh in a manner similar to our own Great Depression. Although those shortages are a thing of the past, the processed and fast food on which Americans are so dependent is practically nonexistent in Hanoi. Ingredients are fresh and food cooked on the spot. Obesity isn’t an issue. And unlike our culture of drive-through eating, Vietnamese rarely dine alone. Even weekday lunches are two-hour social affairs. The wholesome local food culture Americans long for with such nostalgia flourishes in Vietnam today.
Those looking for more traditional moral values can find them in Vietnam. Drug abuse is a rarity, and none of my students even admitted trying marijuana. You wouldn’t either. Drug penalties are draconian, with death by firing squad a common punishment for those possessing large amounts. More minor offenses lead to mandatory incarceration in rehab facilities, which combine cold turkey withdrawal with hard labor. Violent crime is rare, and gun laws are some of the strictest on the planet. Terrorism is unknown.
Although the midnight curfew was lifted this year in Hanoi, the streets generally are quiet by 10 p.m., perhaps from years of habit or because the city rises early, with many Vietnamese hitting the pavement by 4 a.m.
And while Vietnam often is ranked at the top of the most atheist countries, that seems to more a matter of slippery definitions than reality. Almost all practice ancestor worship and believe in spirits, and shrines to the spirits of trees are common on city streets. Although there may not be a belief in a western concept of a deity, life is shot through with spirituality. Divorce is rare. Confucian morality makes family the center of life. Upon returning to the States, one of the things that stood out most was the lack of children. In Vietnam, children are everywhere. They walk to school alone and play outside after dark as in an America of days gone by.
Neighbor helping neighbor still is reality as is hospitality to foreigners. When I arrived in Hanoi on a weekend and found my credit cards cut off because of “suspicious activity,” my taxi driver, Tuan, loaned me money until I could work things out with my bank.
“This is enough for 15 bottles of water and two meals, “ he told me, counting out the bills with the carefulness of one used to watching his money, and shoving them into my hand. “If you need a place to stay, you can sleep at my parents’ house.”
Just as our Greatest Generation experienced more buying power and an expansion of their horizons in post-war years, so do the Vietnamese today. As Westernization takes hold, young people sport designer sunglasses and American and European clothing brands. Hanoians take pride in their new malls, high-rises, and swank apartments. Many are buying cars for the first time. Travel abroad is a possibility, with vacations in Thailand and conferences in Singapore and China, and even study abroad in Europe. They often work several jobs, save like mad, and put their hopes into their children’s education, as parents in 1950s America did.
When I think of my father, selling his saddle and leaving the Oklahoma farm to work his way through college doing construction, eventually earning a Ph.d, I see my Vietnamese friends. While they look to America, admiring our prosperity, our educational system, and our freedoms, I look up to them. Their hope, tenacity and care for one another are qualities we would do well to recapture in our own national life.
Mary Lee Grant, a former Caller-Times reporter, is director of finance and coordinator for Amazonian programs for the Peru-based non-Profit, CERSI. She taught English and history at the Hanoi University of Mining and Geology in Hanoi, Vietnam.
Source: http://www.caller.com/story/opinion/forums/2017/10/19/vietnam-learns-us-we-can-do-same/779728001/