Posts filed under ‘Vietnam’
From boardrooms to street kitchens
You will not find much about it in the Lonely Planet but Thanh Hóa, Vietnam, is where I will be spending the next few months as a Kiva Fellow. Its dirt roads, paper-based systems and road-side street kitchens are a far cry from the corporate culture that I am familiar with, but I am excited to see what the next few months will hold.
Thanh Hóa is the fourth largest (by area) and second poorest province in Vietnam, with over 30% of the households considered poor. Kiva’s field partner here, the Fund for Thanh Hóa Poor Women, has been in operation for over 10 years and continues to grow in size and influence, opening a new branch just this past November in the Hậu Lộc district.
Although I have only been here for a few (linguistically challenged) days, we have hit the ground running and I am trying to ramp up as quickly as I can. (Easier said than done when there isn’t a wikipedia page on hand.) What I have found so far is a great passion for change and a general consensus that with the strong work ethic ingrained in its people, Vietnam’s economy will grow. The only question is how quickly and at what cost.
I will keep you posted on what I find, but in the meantime… Tôi cần thực hành tiếng Việt!
Note: In a future blog, Nathan, Kiva Fellow based in Hanoi, and I will be delving into the differences between microfinance in Hanoi and Thanh Hóa. Please leave us any specific questions you would like us to look into (e.g. how does the cost of living differ?) by leaving us comments. Cám ơn!
Join the ‘Vietnam Critical Mass’ lending team!
On Poverty
Yesterday I met Mr. and Mrs. Phung, their two children and their granddaughter. The Phungs run a bicycle repair shop. It is a small shop on a partially paved, pot-holed street on the outskirts of Thanh Hoa City, Vietnam (150 kilometers south of the capital, Hanoi). Had it been a few houses further down the street, Mr. and Mrs. Phung would have enjoyed views over the rice paddies.
Bicycles are repaired on what would be the pavement, if one existed. As with many homes, the front room not only acts as a sort of living room but also as a place of business; in this case a store room for bicycle parts. Bicycle tires and tubes hang from the ceiling and brakes, brake cables, pedals, baskets, etc. are stored in cubby holes on the wall. Even with the entryway wide open, one’s eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark inside.
Mr. and Mrs. Phung had been warned in advance of this foreigner’s arrival and welcomed me into their home. We were there with one of the Fund for Thanh Hoa Poor Women’s loan officers to distribute a group loan.
While each borrower was lent almost 3.1 million VND (~ US$181), they all said they wanted to borrow much more but couldn’t. I’ve heard this complaint many times as I usually ask borrowers what they like most about the Fund for Thanh Hoa Poor Women (“FPW”) and where they’d like to see improvements. As I knew, FPW restricts the amount that individuals can borrow by reference to their credit history, and 6 million VND (~US$353) was the absolute maximum loan amount. So I wondered why borrowers wanting more money didn’t borrow from the bank. After all, it is not uncommon to hear FPW’s borrowers such as Mr. & Mrs. Phung say they expect to make a profit of 2 million VND (~ US$118) per month on a 12-month 3.1 million VND loan.
Now many poor borrowers the world-over can’t borrow from a bank because they have nothing to offer as collateral. But this appears not to be the case in rural Vietnam where most people own their houses and the land on which their houses are built. Which raises another very interesting question: how poor are these borrowers?
I know the answer to the first question is much more complicated than I’ll ever learn but from my few short weeks in Vietnam, here are two pertinent discoveries: many borrowers don’t have title deeds to their properties and some who do aren’t willing to risk losing their homes on a business loan. Being told the latter by Mr. Phung (while Mrs. Phung tended to her granddaughter’s needs) was particularly revealing. Here was a borrower who was willing to borrow money from a loan shark at an <a href=”http://www.mftransparency.org/”>APR</a> of 188% but they wouldn’t mortgage their house to obtain a more favorable interest rate (fortunately for Mrs. Phung, FPW loans carry an APR of only 24%). On the other hand, maybe the Phungs were more clued-in than I give them credit for as I’m sure many small business owners in the US will rue the day they gave their bank a personal guarantee on their small business loans.
I also wonder, in light of the aforementioned discovery, how poor FPW’s borrowers really are. Now I really am tip-toeing into a mindfield. So let me skirt around the edges. <a href=”http://www.cgap.org/p/site/c/aboutus/“>CGAP</a> (the Consultative Group to Assist the Poor), the leading independent resource for objective information, expert opinion, and innovative solutions for microfinance, defines the <a href=”http://econ-www.mit.edu/files/530/”>poor</a> as those living on less than $2 dollar per day per capita. I haven’t yet investigated how this definition takes into consideration real estate ownership. The fact that FPW’s borrowers benefit enormously from such small loans (particularly given the alternatives) is good enough reason to lend to them. But are they really that poor? It is a question that many Kiva Fellows I’ve spoken to ponder. And it is a question I will continue to research and think about.
Postscript: Today, at the opening ceremony for FPW’s fifth branch, the local People’s Committee member welcomed FPW into his district saying, among other things, that he hoped the provision of loans to women in his district would prevent them having to leave their homes to search for work elsewhere. He went on to say that some who did were “stolen into China” – which my interpreter translated to mean sold as wives to Chinese men. Indeed, my translator told me that one of her parents’ neighbors had been sold to China, only to return 10 years after her disappearance. A sobering thought which puts theoretical questions related to “poverty” into perspective.
Culinary Delights in Vietnam
My mother grew up during WWII. She can make a little go a long way. But she’s no match for the Vietnamese. A couple of nights ago, at my translator’s house, we had chicken.
It is no fun being a chicken. But at least they weren't battery chickens!
Not chicken breasts or chicken thighs but chicken vertebrae. The amount of meat on a chicken’s vertebra is virtually nil. Common sense would accurately lead you to such a conclusion. But the Vietnamese serve up cooked vertebrae and you pop them into your mouth and then suck out all the juices and do your best to find some meat. Not exactly a satisfying meal. Thank goodness for rice. Not that I should complain. My translator and her father are poor people; I used to make in a week what they each make in a year. And yet they have invited me to their home for dinner on a number of occasions. Eating chicken vertebrae, however, beats eating cat – which is what I had for dinner on Sunday evening at a new-found friend’s house.
The cat arrived in the early afternoon. Fortunately not on foot but in a bag carried by one of his friends. I wonder what it had done to deserve such a fate. I spent the next hour or so hearing them chop it up outside. And I spent the next couple of hours not looking forward at all to the moment I’d have to eat it. Fortunately, a shopping trip with the my friend’s wife and her sister took my mind off the evening’s dinner. I bought some silk for the lining of a new suit that I’d ordered from a local tailor a couple of days ago. I wonder what the $100 suit will be like. She bought shoes and a new outfit. But back to the cat. It didn’t taste good. Perhaps it would have tasted better if I had been on the fast road to getting drunk, like the others. How much was psychological as opposed to physiological I can’t say. It reminded me of the time I supped on turtle and piranha in the Amazon rainforest. At least this time, the meal didn’t have me up all night. I’m not looking forward to eating dog. No wonder dogs are all so well behaved in Vietnam; they rarely so much as bark. Snake, porcupine, termites and congealed gelatinous blood don’t appeal either. But generally though, the food here is good.
For me, one of the pleasures of international travel is, generally speaking, eating the local food. I particularly enjoy street food and meals bought from little restaurants frequented by the locals. In that regard, today was a stellar day. I had three tasty meals, all for a total outlay of US$3! In the morning, I had a 2 egg omelette in a French roll from the woman who has a stand outside the MFI’s office ($0.50).
A kindly street vendor who makes my breakfast omelette
Each day she greets me proudly with a new English phrase; today’s was “good morning”. And then for lunch, I had Vietnamese tapas: a small bowl of cuttlefish, a couple of small pork chops, a local variety of roll, some freshly roasted and salted peanuts, rice, a small plate of sliced boiled potatoes with herbs and a larger bowl of boiled greens in their broth (which one pours over the rice). All for $1.60.
My local lunchtime restaurant
And for dinner I had beef pho. I’ll blow the budget later on $1 beers when I meet the only other Westerner in town: an Australian who runs a bamboo company.
Ready for my close-up Mr. DeMille
I am a little nervous. Not for myself, but on behalf of some of our Kiva clients. The reason? We are heading out to Bac Ninh ( the small town where Kiva’s Vietnamese micro-finance partner has a regional office ) to film some clients. Kivab2b is making a short film about Kiva and the engaging dynamic duo Rachelle ( Canada ) and James ( US ) are here in Vietnam to interview and film a few Kiva clients. They have already criss-crossed the US filming Kiva lenders and now it’s the turn of the borrowers. We have chosen 10 clients who we think will be comfortable being filmed. I am fervently hoping that the cameras, microphones and not least the legal form giving consent ( of which the English version confuses the hell out of me! ) do not prove to be too intimidating.
We arrive in Bac Ninh in relative luxury in a small mini-van we have hired for the occasion. It makes a very nice change from the local buses and hair-raising motorbike taxis I usually take! The mood is a bit like heading to summer camp, as we have myself, Rachelle and James with associated equipment, a translator and a couple of interested head-office MFI staff all coming along for the ride. It’s early as we depart Hanoi ( 6.30am ) and the street markets are at their busiest as vendors sell all manner of fruits, vegetables, breads and meats for the day’s meals – I am sure you can buy virtually anything you desire from a Hanoi street vendor!
We were given strict instructions by Mrs. Lan – the Bac Ninh branch manager – to be there by 8am sharp. I always tell Mrs. Lan that she is the boss and I will do whatever she tells me to, so the early start is to ensure we uphold our part of the deal. Mrs. Lan is impressed to see us already there enjoying a morning cup of Vietnamese tea when she arrives at 7.45am. Introductions over, we depart for our first client, with SEDA’s neighbours curiously observing this motley crew.
The villages around Bac Ninh have not seen many mini-vans and we gingerly progress down tight alleyways and over mud-tracks, Mrs. Lan navigating for the city-slicker driver. We arrive at the home of our first client. She has been expecting us and warmly invites us into her home. I have met most of these clients before and they greet me like an old friend – it’s very heart-warming. Some of them chastise me for not yet providing them with the photos I took of them during my earlier visit – I try to tell them I am waiting until the very end of my stay – and make me promise that I will bring them with me next time. Some of the clients are exactly as they were the first time I met them and have obviously not allowed the fact that they will be filmed intrude on their daily routine. Others however have clearly made a special effort to look a little special for filming and I detect a bit of make-up, some nicer outfits and hair neatly tucked away in elegant buns.
Another notable observation is the stronger presence of the husbands during these filming sessions. SEDA works with the Vietnam Women’s Union and as such well over 90% of their clients are women – as you would expect! Sometimes a client is taking out a loan on behalf of herself and her husband for their joint business but in most instances the wife and husband have separate jobs so as to maximise the family income. Here I must digress slightly to express my admiration for the strength and resilience of Vietnamese women – they really are the back-bone of this country. I am certain that official statistics would show they are key contributors to the nation’s gross domestic product. They do all manner of jobs – I have seen female construction workers, mechanics, garbage collectors – you name it – while also bearing the greater load of the family and household responsibilities. Getting back on track….The husbands are not usually present at the repayment and loan disbursement meetings at which I have previously met the clients, but now that the cameras have arrived they take a more active and visible role, proudly being the man of the house.
James and Rachelle immediately and easily place the clients at ease and scout for a suitable location. These are not closed, controlled film sets – they are people’s homes and businesses – and we are often disturbed by tractors and harvesters passing by, children and neighbours wandering into the midst of filming, ubiquitous mobile phones ringing ( the Vietnamese love to have cutesy pop songs as their mobile phone ring tones) with the call recipient loudly answering and chatting away. Luckily the clients are wearing microphones, which when first shown to them draws the identical response of “I have never worn a microphone before”. Kudos must be given to Mrs. Lan who quick-smart became an expert at discreetly disguising the lapel microphones in the client’s clothing.
If more cameras were available, it would have been fascinating to film “a making of” as word spread and curious neighbours sit, stand and squat at the edges, fascinated by what is occurring. For some, bravery and curiosity combines and they approach the camera lens and peer through it. A special treat awaits me at one of the villages which I have visited many times and has become a bit of a favourite. I always draw a crowd, but it’s the warmth as opposed to the quantity of the people which has left the greater impression. In particular I have been enchanted by these 3 magnificent grandmothers. The first time I saw them there were sitting outside a house that was about 25 metres away and they kept their distance. The next time they were sitting outside the same house but got up and pretended to casually walk by, when in reality they were intently watching what I was doing. This time they had no qualms about coming directly coming over to us and asking what we were doing. “We have seen you here before” they stated and I finally got my longed for interaction. Upon spying my camera, one of them asked me to take a photo and I was extremely pleased to oblige.
But back to the interviews… As previously mentioned I was a little apprehensive as to how comfortable the clients would be, but it turned out to be needless anxiety as many of the clients comfortably and confidently answered the questions. Responses were direct, succinct and matter-of-fact but also peppered with laughter. They were often puzzled at the question “what was their happiest memory?” but all of them were easily able to answer the question “how long do you expect to have to work for”? The answer – “forever”. When asked “How does it make you feel to know that strangers thousands of miles away want to help you and your business” they become a little emotional and thanks and gratitude are demonstrated in their individual ways.
Our client’s businesses and their specific skills continue to fascinate me, be it rice noodle production, silk production right at the source from silkworms, breeding said silkworms, making roof tiles or making specialty cakes. Tremendous pride is evident but never explicitly stated when we compliment them on their output.
When we finished filming after 2 very successful days, I returned to Hanoi feeling yet again privileged and humbled to have had this unique glimpse into our client’s homes, businesses and indeed lives. Memories I will cherish for a lifetime.
To make a loan to a SEDA client similar to the ones we filmed, please click here: http://www.kiva.org/app.php?page=businesses&partner_id=85&status=fundRaising&sortBy=New+to+Old&_tpg=fb
Honey I’m Home ( aka A Typical Kiva Day in the Office )
I am not a morning person. I know this about myself, but am starkly reminded of this fact when my alarm goes off at 6am. In a zombie trance I get out of bed, put the kettle on and have a shower. I put on the clothes I chose the night before, as I know that at 6am in the morning my brain does not work at its best and there is a high risk I may choose clothes and footwear completely impractical for riding on the back of motorbikes and sitting cross-legged on the floor. Today I head out to Bac Ninh, where SEDA has one of their regional offices and where the actual work of meeting clients, disbursing loans and collecting repayments occurs. All of the Kiva clients are serviced out of Bac Ninh and I travel there twice a week, travelling 2 ½ hours each way on 3 local buses to get there.
Back to my cup of tea. I gulp it down and head to the bus stop down the road to catch my first bus of the day. It’s 6.40am and the routine is to meet Huyen – my university student translator – at Long Bien bus depot at 7am. From there we catch the next bus to Bac Ninh. Long Bien is the largest bus depot in Hanoi and a nightmare to navigate. There is no order to the buses, no signage or timetable to indicate where you can find your particular bus. You basically wait and pray. The one positive is that it’s still early and there are less hawkers about to bother us. The Bac Ninh bus arrives and we get on quickly to ensure we get a seat. Getting a seat on a Vietnamese bus resembles a competitive sport and women get no special treatment. I try and avoid any diplomatic incidents despite what I observe, but once I saw a young man nearly trample a pregnant woman to get to a seat. I could not help myself and stood directly in front of him, loudly announcing that he should be ashamed of himself. Despite the language barrier I think everybody in the bus could understand what I was saying. At the next stop he sheepishly got up and offered the pregnant woman his seat. One thing I do admire however is the fact that older people are treated very respectfully and as soon as they board a bus, somebody will instantly get up and guide them to a seat.
It’s a 1 hour journey to Bac Ninh. Huyen and I usually chat away for the first half an hour, but then after a while we put on our respective MP3 players and listen to music to pass the time. The journey is primarily highway and the scenery would not make it onto a postcard. An hour later we reach Bac Ninh town. We disembark and walk to the bus depot to catch our next bus to Yen Phu, a small town in Bac Ninh province where the SEDA office is based. The Bac Ninh bus depot is one of the few places I get approached by beggars. There is one particular young man – I’d guess early 20s – with a severe limp and facial disfigurement who is there every week. The first time we saw him Huyen told me not to give him money as he would most certainly be hired by somebody to beg and would have to pay his ‘pimp’ the bulk of his takings. This knowledge coupled with telling myself that I am already doing some good by volunteering in Vietnam for 4 months makes me feel more comfortable about ignoring the beggars.
Our last bus arrives and we board for the final 45 minutes journey to Yeh Phu. In contrast this is a stunning journey and I still enjoy looking out over the rice fields and slices of life in the small villages we pass. Then we arrive at Yen Phu. It’s 9.30am and it feels like we have done a full day’s work already, but we have just begun.
On the Way to Yen Phu
On The Way to Yen Phu
We are warmly welcomed by the SEDA credit officers. Then onto the back of a motorbike and off we go to visit clients. The credit officers have 3 days of client interaction – Tuesday through to Thursday. In the morning they have their weekly repayment collection meetings and in the afternoon they disburse new loans. On Monday and Friday they are in the office catching up on paperwork. I enjoy the motorbike rides out to visit clients. The preparation beforehand is hilarious. I basically lather my face, arms and neck in sun-cream, put on sunglasses and sometimes a hat. And that’s it. The locals however have a much more fastidious routine. They wear long shirts, gloves, hats and face masks to ensure that no skin whatsoever is exposed to the sun and that they stay white. It makes me laughingly think of the women back home who pay a lot of money for regular fake sun-tans.
All Covered Up and Ready to Go
We drive through all manner of surrounds – narrow village laneways, along canals, pass cemeteries, through rice fields- arriving at the location for our first collection meeting. The meetings are usually held in a central location such as a school, pagoda or a home and we will meet with 4-5 groups at once. I always get a little nervous at schools as invariably one of the students sees me and then bedlam ensues. They leave their classrooms and jump and dance around singing “hello, hello, hello”. After a few minutes a teacher will appear and yell or dramatically bang a drum and they scurry back to class. Occasionally some persistent little rascals will remain throughout the meetings, intriguingly observing us.
On the Way to Clients
On the Way to Clients
Hello, Hello, Hello
The credit officer meets with each group leader one by one and collects the weekly repayments. I then enquire if I can ask them a few questions. It never ceases to amaze me how open the clients are with a complete stranger and they patiently answer my questions about their family finances, families and hopes for the future. Interview over, I ask if I may take a photo. This usually draws a response of nervous laughter and protestations that they are not suitably dressed for a photo. The credit officers interject telling them that’s nonsense and that they look fine, so they acquiesce whilst patting down their hair or straightening a shirt – the response to having a photo taken really is universal! One time while I was taking photos of clients, one of them was taking a photo of me with their phone – the shoe very firmly on the other foot!
The meeting is repeated 3 times at separate locations and we usually meet with 10 -15 groups per session. Lunchtime. The Vietnamese take their lunchbreaks very seriously. Usually we drive back to the office and will have lunch at one of the food stalls in Yen Phu. Occasionally we are too far from the office and may have lunch at a client’s home. I am always humbled by our client’s hospitality when we visit their homes. They are always delighted to see me and dust off their best chair for me to sit down on. Cups of tea will be thrust into my hand and instantly refilled the moment they are empty. It’s an honour when we eat with them but I also feel a little guilty that we are taking food from their families’ mouths. I quash the strong desire to ask the credit officers to give them some money for the meal as I know that would be incredibly insulting. Thankfully for my western conscience we don’t have meals with clients very often.
After lunch we have disbursement meetings where new loans are distributed. These are large meetings as every member of the group must attend, so 20 – 30 women may be in attendance. These meetings are held in a public area as a home could not comfortably contain this many people. The credit officers commence by talking about loan discipline, the importance of meeting their repayment obligations and also of making savings. Typically a SEDA client will also have a savings account where they will contribute 5,000 Vietnamese Dong ( $US 0.30 ) a week in savings. That does not seem like a lot – and it isn’t – but instilling a behaviour of savings is important and even a small amount will ultimately pay dividends. Once the ‘pep talk’ is over, the groups approach one by one and each member of the group needs to sign a basic contract acknowledging that they have received the funds and will repay accordingly. It’s very businesslike and the women usually count their loans to ensure they have received all their funds. One woman once made me laugh as she did not like the fact that some of her notes were old, so she emphatically asked the credit officer for newer notes!
A Loan Disbursement Meeting at a More Subdued Moment
Making it All Official
About 2 – 3 disbursement meetings are held in an afternoon and then it’s back to the office. It’s typically 4 – 4.30pm and Huyen and I bid the Yen Phu team good-bye. We trudge back to the bus stop, fervently praying that we don’t have to wait too long for the bus. The longest we have had to wait is 50 minutes! There is absolutely nothing at the Yen Phu bus station so that was 50 of the longest minutes of my life. Eventually the bus arrives and we commence our 3 return bus journeys. The music I choose on the way back to Hanoi tends to be mellow as I am often reflecting on the clients I have met and the sneak peek I have had into their lives. I am always in admiration of the resilience, hospitality and sheer hard work demonstrated by the Kiva clients – there is no ‘woe is me’ self pitying attitude.
Eventually, mercifully, I turn the key and enter my apartment. In reality it’s modest but in contrast to where I have been today it’s palatial. It’s already dark and usually between 7 and 7.30pm. I immediately head to my shower as I am always sweaty and grimy. I cook a modest meal and usually treat myself to ice-cream. Exhausted it’s early to bed, but satisfied that in a small way I am doing my bit to help.
This is what I do two days a week. They are long, hot and tiring days, but they are also my favourite days of the week.
My first blog
For someone who is non-technical, blogging is a whole new adventure. So I’ll keep this short just to see if I can post this blog. Ciao.
Same Same But Different
In Hanoi the tourist stalls in the old quarter are crammed with all manner of trinkets for tourists to buy. T-shirts are of course popular and there are many that contain that ubiquitous saying ‘same same but different’. Usually I ignore the persistent hawkers ( while fighting back the urge to proudly declare that I am more than a mere tourist ) but events over the past couple of weeks have made me actually stop and think a little more about ‘same same but different’.
I am first generation Australian of Greek heritage. I grew up very much in a Mediterranean household, where family and food is at the core of life. I vividly remember the sense of bewilderment I felt when I went to barbecue of a friend and was told to bring my own meat and drinks. What ? An invitation like that would cause confusion amongst my family, as for Greeks a hosts’ table is laden with food and people fight for the “honour” of paying a bill after a night out.
Although you would not think it, the Vietnamese share quite a few similarities to their Mediterranean “cousins”, as family and food are also at the core of Vietnamese life. For the Vietnamese I would add a third pillar – business and the obtaining of money. This is decidedly lower down the list for Mediterraneans with their “live for today and tomorrow will take care of itself” attitude, although I imagine that if you live in a country where significant poverty is not an issue, you would have a more carefree attitude to money.
Another similarity is how loud the Vietnamese talk! I have a voice that is loud and rises further and quickens in direct proportion to my passion. My Mediterranean friends and I can all talk at the same time and what to others may appear as talking over the top of each other, to us is normal. You don’t stay quiet in a Mediterranean environment – you have your say and you do it emphatically. I sometimes struggle with this in the Australian business culture, but in Vietnam it’s not a problem. I often sit in on meetings where 3 conversations are happening at the same time and the voices get increasingly louder as a point is debated. Sometimes it sounds like they are angry with each other, but they are not – it’s just the very direct conversation style. If a phone rings while sitting in a bus, the phone call recipient will answer and their conversation will boom throughout the bus. This initially surprised me as I expected a more restrained conversational style, but my Mediterranean background helped me adapt very quickly.
I love being Australian. I think that if you grow up in Australia you have truly won life’s lottery, as you do for the most part grow up in a land of tolerance, opportunity and fairness, not to mention outstanding climate and physical beauty. One of things I treasure most is Australia’s multi-cultural background. I love the fact that when you travel you always feel that things are a little bit familiar because you might have seen or tasted something similar as a result of the Italian, Chinese, Portugese, Vietnamese, Sudanese, Lebanese or South African family that lives down the road. Of course Australia is not perfect, but overwhelmingly you have fewer things to complain about as an Australian than you would as a Vietnamese or any of the other countries that Kiva is active in. For me however there is a ‘but’ and the ‘but’ comes in the form of Australia’s isolation. I have often thought that if we could take Australia and just move it further up, then it truly would be perfect. I know many of my countrymen revel in Australia’s relative isolation and would be horrified by this thought, but not me. I wish we were closer to the action. That we weren’t so comfortably complacent. And most of all I wish that Europe wasn’t a whole day away. But I guess you can’t have everything. And after extensive travel and if you consider that the Unites States has had 8 years of Bush and his cronies in charge, there still is no other place I would rather call home.
One of the things I am enjoying however about my Kiva Fellowship is feeling like I am a global citizen. An Australian living in Hanoi, working for an American group with an Asian micro-finance organisation. I love hearing the multitude of backgrounds, perspectives and accents. Last week I attended a micro-finance forum at which over 500 delegates from all around the world were present. I had dinner with Cambodians and Dutch, swapped ideas with a woman from Papua New Guinea and had a lively discussion with someone from Bangladesh.
The more you travel and live abroad, the more you realise that although cultures are different and should be celebrated as such, there are also lots of areas where we are the same. That to me is wonderfully reassuring. Maybe I will get myself one of those t-shirts after all.
The Last Time I Was Considered Tall I Was 14 Years Old
I proudly remember how for the first 2 years of high school I was considered quite tall and got to stand for the annual class photo. From the 3rd year onwards however I was eclipsed as puberty prevailed in others. From then on I sat in the front row, demurely folding my hands in my lap. Not that I am short – I am 167cm tall – which by western standards makes me an average height. I would also describe my build as average – you will have to take my word for it as I have no intention of publically disclosing any vital statistics! So I pretty much blend into the crowd. But in Vietnam I am tall. In Vietnam I would go so far as to say I am Amazonian. In Vietnam I am exotic.
This week I have been contemplating what it’s like to be - what I romantically like to call - exotic. I have yet to reach the stage where I do not notice that people outright stare and heads turn as I walk by. I do not live or work in the tourist centre or in a heavily expat populated area and have yet to encounter another westerner as I walk my home and office neighbourhoods. The reactions of the children particularly delight me as they look in awe. The more confident ones wave and shout “hello” and when I respond back with a “hello” and a wave they squeal with delighted laugher. The shier ones stare with quiet concentration as they peak out from behind their parents’ legs. Even though I am an obvious object of attention, I have never once felt remotely scared as the attention is either of a curious ( what is she doing here? is she lost? ) or delighted ( how wonderful! a westerner is here! ) nature.
Even simple things like demonstrating proficiency with chopsticks are an act of diplomatic wonder. I try to tell them that Australians eat a lot of Asian food and we all have basic chopstick skills, but still they are enchanted. My name also scores brownie points, as ‘Xan’ and ‘Thi’ are not uncommon Vietnamese syllables. In fact Thi is a very common middle name, so when people see my name written out they exclaim “your name Vietnamese”. I quite like the way it is pronounced ( “Suntee” ) and have no problems responding when that name is used.
The reactions that humble me most are when I go to the villages to visit the Kiva clients. There a westerner is definitely exotic! Word spreads as I attend a community meeting or go to a client’s home and from nowhere an army of children appear and a choir of “hello, hello, hello” reverberates. The SEDA staff introduce me and I am automatically given VIP status – the best chair is dusted off, fans are brought out turned on and pointed in my direction, cups of tea are thrust into my hands and refilled the split-second they are empty. The first few times I tried to tell them to please ignore me and not make a fuss, but that provoked even more fuss, so now I have learnt to graciously accept and thank my hosts for their hospitality. I think that throughout the entire length of my stay, the pride, hospitality and industriousness of our clients will continue to humble and inspire me.
To see more loans from my Kiva clients, please click here.
Playing Chicken and Other First Impressions
Beep! Beep beep beep! This is the natural sound of the habitat that is downtown Hanoi. There is an endless cacophony of horns – sometimes short and squeaky, other times longer and more insistent. There is no aggression intended – the horn is to warn the pedestrian or cyclist ahead that their motorbike ( more of a scooter really ) or car is bearing down on you and that you should not pick this moment to change direction. Driving in Hanoi should be classified as an extreme sport. Insert small confession – I have actually ridden as a passenger on the back of a few motorbikes. An important motorbike wardrobe hint – trousers or long flowing skirts and dresses are the best attire for bikes. A slim fitting skirt that sits below the knee requires you to sit a dainty side-saddle, which reduces passenger confidence in direct proportion to skirt width! On any street corner you will see a local lying on his motorbike. As soon as a westerner materialises, he will arise from his slumber and shout “motorbike madam, motorbike madam”. The bargaining routine begins ( he says “30,000 Vietnamese Dong”; you say “too much, too much” ) and when agreement is reached you have secured yourself a cheap form of transport suitable for short distances when the sweltering humidity make walking a less palatable option.
Crossing the street in Hanoi could qualify as an Olympic sport as it takes skill, concentration and practice to master. First thing to know is that the few pedestrian crossings that do exist are laughably redundant so don’t even attempt to cross at them. You could grow old waiting for a suitable lull in traffic, so adopt a nonchalant manner, stare straight ahead and step into the ocean of motorbikes and bicycles and voila! It will be like Moses parting the red sea and the traffic will manoeuvre around you. Do not under any circumstances change course. This could tempt the natural traffic order to be thrown off its balance and who knows the consequences.
Food is to be found everywhere in Hanoi and there are people partaking all hours of the day, sitting on pavements on little plastic chairs eating a variety of noodles, vegetables and meats. One of my favourite parts of the day is lunchtime when I join my colleagues for lunch at their local haunts. Our office is a 15-20 minutes drive south of downtown and I am confident that our neighbourhood does not feature in The Lonely Planet. I love it as it is such an authentic experience. As my confidence grows I want to try the Vietnamese version of the local pub – they are called bia hois and consist of lots of little plastic chairs on the pavement or a large open space where lots of locals sit and drink lots of cheap beer. There seems to be a bia hoi on every street. One thing is for certain – whoever has shares in the local small plastic chair manufacturing company is getting a great return on investment!
The most unusual thing I have seen to date are actually dentists. Why dentists you ask? Because dentistry appears to be a spectator sport in Hanoi – they are all glass and big open spaces and from outside you look straight in and see the patient sitting in the dentist chair, mouth wide open with a white-coated person hanging out their mouth! My fancy is also tickled by the local barber shop – all you need is a spot on the pavement, an old mirror, nail with which to hang up on a nominated wall, a chair, scissors and presto – you are in business. The Vietnamese could start a business anywhere out of anything – they are the MacGyvers of entrepreneurism! It’s one of the reasons why I am so happy to be working for Kiva in Vietnam facilitating loans to people who have so much ingenuity and initiative.
To see loans for some entrepeneurial Vietnamese, click here http://www.kiva.org/app.php?page=businesses&partner_id=85&status=fundRaising&sortBy=New+to+Old&_tpg=fb
From Vietnam 3
Working with Mekong Plus in Vietnam has allowed me to observe some of the many different ways one can help the poor. Aside of visiting Kiva borrowers, I also got a chance to observe other projects that Mekong Plus implements as part of its holistic approach towards attacking poverty.
Mekong Plus an extremely wide range of activities. One of the most successful and popular programs is its quilt shop, Vietnam Quilts. The project employs over a hundred poor women in the areas of Duc Linh and Long My. The women are taught to sew quilts and souvenirs that are then sent to Ho Chi Minh City and Hanoi to be sold. The project has been very successful and self-sustaining. The revenues generated are poured back into the program, and the women receive a monthly salary. The impact is tremendous because it allows the women to stay close to home and work instead of leaving their children for several days at a time to find work in far away areas. Also, it empowers the women by providing handicraft skills and financial freedom. I had a chance to visit all of the small shops where the quilts and souvenirs are made and the quilt store in Ho Chi Minh City.
One of Mekong Plus’s most important programs to providing a long-term solution to poverty is its scholarship project. Mekong Plus provides hundreds of scholarships to poor students. Education in Vietnam is not free or mandated. Families must pay a yearly tuition if they want their children to receive an education. Also, they are responsible for buying the school uniforms and school supplies. For many poor families, the fee is too high. Many children of the families I visited do not complete the 8th grade. Without an education, they have very little hope of breaking free of poverty. I went with a loan officer one day in order to film and document the event, and I also ended up handing out scholarships. The parents of the students were also there, applauding as their sons’ and daughters’ names were called out. The parents have sacrificed a lot as well to keep their children in school. Not only do they lose on potential income their children could earn by working, but they must also save up to buy the uniforms and school supplies. The scholarships provided by Mekong Plus cover the school fees. The parents would not send their children to school though if they didn’t think it was worth the investment. Talking to the families afterwards, it is clear to me that the families realize how important education is to providing a better life for their children.
In addition to educating poor children, Mekong Plus provides health education to women. I visited two separate classes, one about female hygiene and diseases and another about proper infant care. Many families, especially in the rural areas of Vietnam, have very little exposure to properly caring for themselves or their children. They rely on advice from their friends, family, and even Vietnamese myths. Doctor visits are expensive and health insurance in Vietnam is inadequate. The class on proper infant care was very engaging and successful. The women learned about the human respiratory system. In small groups, they drew and labeled the different parts of the respiratory system. They were given different scenarios and symptoms and were asked to identify the illness. The Mekong Plus staff also taught the women how to properly care for an ill infant. Afterwards, the women were quizzed on what they learned. The class does not end there though. The women must then teach a class on the same topic in the future, and the Mekong staff will supervise them and provide support.
The class on female hygiene was a much more difficult class because the topic is still taboo in Vietnam, especially in the rural areas. The women were less willing to participate. I learned that over 40% of the women in Vietnam however suffer from various diseases, including STDs and breast cancer. The class aimed to provide correct information to the women so that they would be able to self-diagnose themselves and prevent infection. The Mekong Plus staff covered symptoms of various STDs and how to self-check for breast cancer. The staff member also taught the women how to maintain proper hygiene, such as where they should hang their underwear to dry. Cultural attitudes in Vietnam are still tremendous hindrances to sex and health education. I doubt anyone knows when Vietnam will be more open to the subject, but in the mean time, I think it’s wonderful that Mekong Plus has taken it upon themselves to provide proper information to the rural women. Through my interviews, I find that one of the biggest reasons a family ends up in poverty is due to illness. Families must take out huge loans and sell their land and assets in order to pay for doctor visits, hospital bills, and medication. Being able to prevent illness or detect it early may go a long way towards ending poverty.
I only highlighted three of Mekong Plus’s other programs aside from microfinance, but I would like to mention there other projects really quickly. In the Mekong Delta area, Mekong Plus helps build roads and bridges. They have an incense program that provides jobs and income to dozens of poor individuals. The incense is made by the poor and sent to France as part of a Fair Trade agreement. In addition to providing hygiene education to women, Mekong Plus sends toothbrushes, toothpaste, fluoride, and workbooks to schools so that children can learn and practice proper dental hygiene. Mekong Plus trains local citizens to become veterinarians so that the poor farmers can help one anther instead of Mekong Plus having to constantly provide veterinary services. Mekong Plus also has a theatre group that writes plays and puts on performances in the community. The theatre shows are used to educate the community about issues such as alcohol, drugs, HIV, and domestic violence. The list of activities that Mekong Plus is involved goes on. I have been very fortunate to visit many of its other programs, and it has taught me a great deal about how poverty is not simply an economic issue. It is also an issue of health, culture, politics, etc.
From Vietnam 2
One of the most memorable visits I had occurred while I was doing interviews in Duc Linh, Binh Thuan province. I visited a small house made of dirt walls and a dirt floor. The walls were crumbling and had holes in them. The family used some plastic to cover up the hole so rain would not get into the house. Sometimes, the plastic is not all that successful. The mother of the house is Pham Thi Xi. She is 38 and married to Nguyen Van Tam. The interview began fairly typically. I asked her about her day and explained to her who I am. I noticed a TV in the corner of the room and asked her if she just bought it. In Vietnam, it seems that no matter how poor, everyone owns a television and karaoke machine. I am always wondering, with all the needs of the family, why purchase a television. Xi responded to my question with a huge smile on her face. She had saved up money from her improved earnings to buy the television. She turned and spoke to the loan officer Chi Phu and said, “It’s thanks to you.” She then couldn’t hold back her tears as she told Chi Phu a story of how the other day her sons were scolded by another family. Her sons went to another family’s home to watch TV, and they were told to leave because their feet and clothes were dirty. Xi said she didn’t want her sons to feel ashamed about being poor, so with the money she earned, she bought them a TV. To her, and probably many other families, having a TV relieves them of the constant reminder that they are poor. It also may symbolize the progress that they have made through their hard work. I am extremely glad that Xi shared that story. While I probably cannot fully understand their struggles, the stories of the borrowers give me a better perspective on the definition of poverty.
From Vietnam 1
Hi everyone. I’m Felix, a Kiva fellow in Vietnam. I am and have been working with Mekong Plus since late August. I apologize for not blogging earlier. My schedule was much different from what I expected, but I will be making up those blogs in the next few weeks with reflections on what has happened these past 3 months.
I guess for my first blog EVER, I’d like to share a story about why microlending has greater potential for success rather than donations. After some 200 or some odd interviews, I had some questions and concerns about microlending. Many of the borrowers I visited, while better off than before, were by no means no longer impoverished. Many were still in debt to moneylenders or the government. The borrowers were still working extremely physically demanding jobs. They even sometimes struggled to make the repayments on the Kiva loan. I understand it’s not easy to step out of poverty, but with the incremental progress that the borrowers were making, I wondered how long it would take them or if they would ever no longer be impoverished. How much effective is microlending than donations?
While pondering the question, I had a chance to visit family I never knew I even had. My dad emailed me the phone number of his cousin, and I gave her a call one weekend to see if I could come down. I was pretty excited because I have never seen my family’s hometown. Co Thao (Aunt Thao) took a bus with her aunt to Long My to pick me up. On our way down to Bac Lieu, Co Thao told me if any family member asked me for money, I should tell them that I don’t have any. I asked her why not, and she began to explain to me her family’s situation. She told me how her dad has become dependent on money that the family in the States, including my dad, sends. Ong Chu, her father, has a huge plot of land, yet he doesn’t work. He encourages his family to stay home and wait for the next time money is sent over instead of going to school and working. Every time Ong Chu receives money, he spends it all in one day, paying off debts that he’s developed and drinking.
The trip to my family’s hometown was bittersweet. It wasn’t the way I had imagine my visit to my family’s hometown would be, but the experience has really completed my Kiva Fellowship. Now, I have a better sense of why I journal and promote Kiva. It also gave me a real life example of why we have microlending in the world.
On a sidenote, I’d like to congratulate Co Thao on her wedding and opening up a hair salon shop! I’m proud to see her do something about her situation, and I know she’ll do what’s right for her family.
