Reverse Culture Shock #3

(PICTURE: It is a rarity to eat a meal or a snack out of a can or a box in Vietnam.)

As I just finished my cold bowl of cereal, I find myself reflecting back to my daily morning breakfasts in Vietnam. I miss my hot bowl of pho and my warm sticky rice. I miss Banh Gio and my tofu with bun noodles. I even miss eating the half developed duck eggs in broth.

In fact, I'm really missing Vietnamese food in general. For one, I love the taste and variety of Vietnamese food. Secondly, everything in Vietnam (minus the globs of fat on pork) just feels healthier. So many things we eat in America are processed or grown with pesticides. I'm pretty sure in the month I've been home I've eaten more things out of cans than I did in 15 months abroad. Also produce is just so much bigger here. Every piece of fruit I eat in America is about twice as big as its Vietnamese cousin. I'm not a farmer (although I do love gardening) but I'm pretty sure fruits and vegetables aren't bigger here just because mother nature wants it that way.

All of that said, perhaps I just miss the food in Vietnam because I've gained a couple of pounds since I came home. In fact, Huyen called me fat the other night on skype! But on the other hand, perhaps I've only gained a few pounds because of a cuisine in America that Vietnam can't compete with -- my mom's home cooking.

Television

One of the things that I liked most about Vietnam is that I basically didn't watch television for a year. I can literally count the few times I watched TV:

1. The Presidential/Vice Presidential Debates
2. Election day
3. Syracuse in the Big East tournament
4. The Super Bowl
5. The Boston Bruins during the playoffs

I should also include in this list the DVDs sets of "The Wire" and "Twin Peaks."

The great thing about not having television is you can spend your time doing other things. You know, like reading or writing a blog. The bad thing about not watching television for a year is that upon returning home you have to constantly tell people to not talk about the last season of "Lost."

Bear Bile

I've told a story a few times recently that I'll finally post about. Right at the end of my time in Vietnam, someone told me about a strange and cruel business -- extracting bile from bears' gallbladders. The bile is used as a traditional medicine and is sold for a lot of money.

I personally haven't seen any bear farms but found this article someone wrote about the horrifying process in China:

The cruelty of sucking gallbladder juice (bile) from live bears in China

World Journal, Wednesday, April 15, 1998
(By Youn Show Lee; translated by Vicky Ho Lynn from the Chinese)

---

"The cruelty of sucking gallbladder juice from live bears in China"

A few months ago while on a business trip, I had a chance to visit Angel Bridge at the foot of Long Day Mountain in China. At that time, we also went to explore a large bear farm which is surrounded by forest and beautiful scenery --- it is truly an isolated paradise. All of sudden I saw about fifteen large cages with bears in them. The farm owner told me this is a gallbladder farm, the purpose of which is to continuously extract fluid from the bears' gallbladders. Because of the high demand, it is an extremely profitable business.

When we arrived at the farm, the bears and the caretaker seemed to be getting along very well, all was calm. Suddenly four huge men showed up and the bears suddenly started screaming fearfully and rocking their cages hard as if they saw a ghost. The caretaker told me every morning at eight o'clock liquid is drawn from their gallbladders. Around seven-forty-five, the bears become agitated and have no appetite to eat and they start screaming and crying desperately for help.

In white uniforms, and without any emotion on their faces, the four men went into one of the cages. They quickly used a steel wire to snatch the bear by the neck, at which point the bear's eyes bulged out and it started gnashing its teeth and crying. They are so scared to death and this trauma causes them to defecate at the same time.

In the bear's stomach, there is a hole with a steel tube inserted directly into the gallbladder. Outside the area there is a plastic tube connected to the steel tube for drawing the liquid. The area is covered tightly with surgical tape. When the time comes, the tape and cover are removed and a syringe is used to withdraw the green liquid from the gallbladder. Three big men went in and pressed bear's 4 legs with force and inserted a syringe into plastic tube. When the dark green gallbladder juice was sucked from bear's body, the poor bear opened her mouth so big, her two eyes were bulging and her entire body was trembling so hard throughout the whole procedure.

This kind of severe torturing went on for about two hours until all the bears had been subjected to the same torture. The crying and screaming was so hard and loud and echoed the entire mountain and valley. It frightened me so much, my heart ached and my head started spinning.

After this unthinkable torture, the bears used their paws to hold their stomachs. They curled up and shivered and I could see tears in their bright little eyes...

Around 10:30, someone cried out that there had been an accident in cage number 5. We followed the owner to rush into the bear farm and were shocked at what we saw. A brown bear had managed to pull out his own intestines and was holding them up in the air, roaring and screaming, as if he were madly "protesting" the cruelty and insanity of the humans. There was blood all over the cage. It was so difficult to watch such a suicidal scene. Never in my life had I been in such shock or so devastated. At that time, someone rang the security alarm, immediately people rushed into the bear farm and waving the sharp ax and big steel hook. The owner shouted :"Hurry to 'rescue' the bear paws!" The man in the cage was reluctant to continue to go forward. But the owner stamped his feet and kept yelling: "You have to cut them off while the bear is alive. That is the only way they are saleable!" Right after that, I saw the sharp ax swung and the number 5 bear's paws were immediately chopped off with blood gushing out.....

Perhaps the killing smell filled in the cage number 5. The other bears then suddenly started to cry and scream sadly and desperately again and had the tendency to be violent. It shook the whole island. The farm owner had a butcher background. When the bears appeared ready to act violently and workers were panicking and running away, the owner stopped them and ordered them to put "steel jackets" on five of the most aggressive bears and give them a shot of morphine. As soon as the bears saw the "steel jackets", they immediately became quiet. It seemed the bears all got the painful lessons from the "steel jackets", otherwise they would not calm down so quickly.

This whole unbelievable incident affected me so deeply that their sad and innocent faces haunted me day and night and will continue to haunt me until the day I die. I felt a strong need to expose this incident to the world. Please widely distribute this true story and hope that everyone who reads this will do something to stop this kind of insanity from Chinese bear farms and to help these desperate poor creatures. Definitely, the Chinese Animals protection law needs to be improved, urgently.

The Rainy Season

I thought I left Vietnam. Since I came home it's been, well, not summer weather. For the last few days the weather has felt a lot like Hanoi's rainy season. It has rained nearly every day this past week and we've even had some thunder and lightning.

One thing that I don't miss about Vietnam is riding my bike during lightning storms. I always remember being told as a kid that if lightning hit our car, we'd be fine since our car is grounded with its rubber tires. Science was never my strongest subject, but I'm pretty sure despite my motorbikes' rubber tires, I'd be toast if lightning hit me on my motorbike.

Today I will be driving down to Cape May, New Jersey for the first of two friends' weddings. Luckily I'll be driving the 3+ hours in a car. The thought of having to do the same on a motorbike gives me the shivers.

Vietnamese Rain Fact: Huyen told me that when it rains, if you look at the ground and bubbles come out of a puddle, that means it is going to rain for a long time.

Reverse Culture Shock #2

Before I left for Vietnam, many people in the states – specifically in New York and LA -- had blackberries. Now it seems that every single person in New York has a blackberry or an iphone. This has been one of my biggest culture shocks since coming back.

For those of you who know me, I admit, I’m an email addict. I love getting email. But I also like the feeling of not checking my email for a couple of hours and then BAM, having three waiting for me in my inbox. So this blog entry isn’t about judging people’s blackberry addictions but merely saying it’s a strange transition from an almost blackberry-less Vietnam to a "you-don’t-have-a-blackberry?" America.

My one knock on blackberries (and cell phones) is that they make people less friendly to those around them. A good example of what I’m talking about is this: About a week or so ago I was staying at my friend Brett’s apartment in New York. In the morning I took the elevator down 20+ floors. The elevator made four stops on its way down. Each time it stopped a person got onto the elevator with their head down, typing away on their blackberry. Literally there were five of us in the elevator and I was the only one not writing an email (or I suspect in one or two cases, pretending to write an email). There were no morning greetings or half assed forced smiles exchanged. It was merely get on the elevator, type away as if this box was their cubicle, and then get off the elevator as if nobody else was there.

In contrast, in Vietnam, when you’re in an elevator your head is up. You look around. You say hello. You even smile from time to time. One time a woman even started a conversation with me in an elevator and I ended up tutoring her for the next few months. It just seems, well, friendlier.

Shronster The Monster Turns 30

(PICTURE: Brad in the greatest Halloween costume ever.)

Happy 30th Birthday, Brad! Yes, that kid in these picture is thirty years old. Trust me, I've seen his ID and have known him since we were in nursery school together 27 years ago!

This blog puts me in a tough situation. I have so many funny stories I want to tell but I've got to censor myself because Brad's wedding is just 19 days away and I don't want to give away any of the speech that I'll be giving with my co-best man Jeremy.

What I will say is this though: there is something about the picture above that is very symbolic of Brad. No, not the tube socks that went out of fashion a decade earlier. No, not the caveman vest which is merely covering an equally hairy chest underneath it. No, not the leaf across his crotch which is generally a sign of purity or someone who poops outside. No, it's none of those things. What is symbolic is Brad's left knee. Take a look. Take a close look. Somebody shaved it. Who shaved it? I have no idea...although I wouldn't bet that it wasn't me (but I honestly can't remember...although I think it might have been David Levinson.). Okay, I don't really know what the symbolism of a shaved knee is but I do know that Brad is the friend who always seems to have a funny story about him whenever my group of friends get together. As I think back upon my childhood, Brad is always by my side, making everything we ever did a little more fun. Happy Birthday, Shron!












(PICTURE: Brad and me in Israel.)













(PICTURE: Brad, Mike, Jeremy and I in Vail.)













(PICTURE: Brad and me at a wedding. His is next!)

13 Months!

Thank goodness for technology. Nearly every day, twice a day, Huyen and I talk on skype video. The time difference between New Jersey and Hanoi works out great for us since Hanoi is eleven hours ahead of EST. When it's 10AM in Vietnam, it's 11PM here -- the perfect time for Huyen to say goodnight to me. When it's 11 pm in Vietnam, it's noon here -- the perfect time to say goodnight to Huyen.

Being far apart from someone you care about is obviously never easy. However, being able to see them and hear their voice every day makes it a lot easier...except on your monthly anniversay when you would give nearly anything to hug one another.

Happy thirteenth month anniversary, Huyen!