/8/17
I haven’t posted yet about my time in Vietnam last month, which was the 3rd month of my Race. I’m sorry for the absence, and the delay in getting these updates to you, but if I’m honest, last month was a tough month for me, and I’m still trying to organize all of my thoughts about what I experienced.
Tonight, I’m actually going to post about one of our last nights in Vietnam, so again, I must apologize for the backwards way that these blogs are regurgitated. Just think about it as if you’re watching a Quentin Tarantino movie: I’m going to show you the ending first, and then we’re going to re-wind in a confusing, loud series of flashbacks all the way to the beginning of the month, and then I’ll sum everything up for you at the very end with my final blog post in a neat, (yet still explosive) arrangement of memories and celebrations. (I’m sorry, I know it’s strange. I can’t help that Tarantino is one of my favorite directors.)
So. Our last night of ministry in Vietnam involved having coffee with 10 or 12 advanced students in an English club that our wonderful, dynamic host Sherman has been running for the past four years. It was amazing to hear his talk of the progress his students have made in four years, especially considering how easy it was to converse with them on a variety of subjects. I could hardly imagine that some of them could barely be understood just four short years ago, as they fluently joked and laughed and conversed at a rate which most native English speakers are comfortable with, after speaking it for their whole lives. The capacity that some people have to possess and manipulate multiple languages endlessly impresses me, and I very much wish that I had another language at my fingertips, as well. That, however, is a dream for another time.
Anyway, there we were, myself, Stephanie and Betsy, seated around a long, rectangular table with these beautiful college-aged kids who still met out of love and commitment to each other, once a week, rather than for the purposes of learning more English. I sipped on my Saigon coffee, complete with cocoa powder and condensed milk, as I watched the interactions of the people around me. One by one, they filed in slowly, and greeted each other with hugs and joyful hellos. The chatter was titillating, and it was truly fun to watch how much they loved each other.
Sherman had asked us to prepare a list of discussion questions, and after he prefaced it by telling us that they were operating at a very advanced level, I decided to have some fun with my questions. After all, nothing facilitates true intimacy, fosters friendship, and builds relationships quite like a good set of discussion questions, right? Right. I digress.
Right out of the gates, one of my favorite questions. It’s a question I really think introduces a person well. When people answer this question, you learn a lot about them, in my opinion, so I was excited to ask it: “If you could sit down over a meal with any person from history, alive or dead, who would it be, and why?”
The answers were an interesting range from Vietnamese political figures, religious figures such as Ghandi or Jesus, celebrities such as Brad Pitt, and my personal favorite from the youngest member of the club, Nelson Mandela. She was a slight, wispy little thing, with a shy smile and Cleopatra bangs. Soft-spoken, timid, often teased for being so much younger than the others, she was firm in her reasoning when I asked her why she had chosen Nelson Mandela, “I want to know why he truly wanted to help his people so badly, it is not like that here.” She stated abruptly, and I was caught very much off-guard. In a country closely monitored by government officials, any insinuations that they do more harm than good is a very dangerous insinuation to make. “Can you elaborate?” I asked her, more out of curiosity than anything. She nodded, “He used everything he learned and all the gifts he had to change life for the people that he loved. He gave up so much to defend what he believed was most important. I think that is very honorable, and I want to learn as much as I can from him. I want to help people the way he helped people, through social justice. It is what I want to study, and it is what I want to dedicate my life to.”
I’m telling you, at that moment, it was all I could do not to stand up and start cheering right then and there, with a heart full of such pride and joy and sheer amazement, thankful to God for the passions he gives young people. Instead, I smiled at her and nodded, “Thank you for sharing. I love that very, very much.” In most cases, when you ask a young Vietnamese student what they want to do with their life, they respond with either, “Doctor, lawyer or engineer.” Those are the careers that have been drilled into them to desire, to throw themselves headlong into. Anything to do with creativity, art, humanitarian work, social justice is not only ignored, is highly discouraged. You cannot control what is fueled by a creative mind and a compassionate heart.
To love others so much that you dedicate your life to helping them, especially when you live in a world that is violently opposed to anything outside of its automaton status quo, what more beautiful and honorable life is there to live? I am struck by the way these young kids showed so much honesty and trust in the ways that they actively love others, and the ways they desire to grow in loving others.
Our next discussion question inspired revelatory conversation just as much as the first. After everyone had answered the initial, I paused, and posed the second: “If you discovered you had only 24 hours to live, what would you do with them?”
I’d like to take a minute and be very honest with you.
Sometimes, I have the capacity of being a massive hypocrite.
I wanted these kids to bare their souls with me, and to honestly answer this question no matter how personal, but I had not prepared myself for sharing my own thoughts on the subject.
As I sat and watched them get misty-eyed and nostalgic, one-by-one, as they contemplated how they would spend their last moments on earth, I was struck by the beauty of the one common theme that resounded in each individual’s story: telling their friends and family that they were loved.
Suddenly, it was my turn, and my mind was racing.
“Hannah, what would you do with only 24 hours left on earth?”
The words penetrated my core. I couldn’t figure out why…. And then it hit me: all I could think of at that moment were the faces of people who have no idea how I feel about them, because I’ve never told them.
Conviction.
I hesitated, “Well… I guess I would start by telling people who I love how I feel, because I’ve been too afraid to all this time.”
They looked at me funny, “If you love someone, you should tell them.” One of them spoke matter-of-factly. I nodded slowly, “You are right.” I smiled, covering it up, aware of the fact that this was not the time nor place to go any further down that road. I moved onto the rest of my 24 hours and came up with some cheesy load about a beach trip with my family, best friends and my puppy and watching one last sunset and then walking into the ocean alone, when it was finally time, and never turning around.
Inwardly, however, my mind was still racing on my newest revelation.
There are people in my life who don’t know the depth of how I feel about them, because I have been too afraid to let them know. I am a control freak. I am terrified of being hurt by others. I do not trust easily.
When I love someone wildly, it’s better that they don’t know.
This is the way I have always thought, and I’m just starting to realize how sad and selfish that thought process is.
The reality is I can truly be a terrible friend. A poor listener, a self-conservationist, a survivor-at-all-cost, convinced that I don’t need other people to get through life safely and without pain.
There are so many of my friends and loved ones back home who don’t know how I feel, and I’m sorry for the missed opportunities for my friendships to deepen and my family to know how irreplaceable they are to me.
I am so excited for the opportunity to return home and truly love people well, because I’m learning a lot more about what it means to love people well, and to be loved well by others as my time on the Race increases.
So to all my loved ones back home, get ready:
I’m coming home with all the love in my heart to pour out over you, and to start to show you just how much I appreciate you, and how lost I would be without you.
I love you, I love you, I LOVE YOU.
Missing you always. <3
