Dich Vong: From Shacks to Skyscrapers

Before I arrived to this space, I had expectations of Dich Vong to be the polar opposite to what I had observed in the previous space. I was looking forward to seeing a piece of home; a formulated piece of private utopian planning put into action; a bridging of the "foreign" and "familiar" landscapes. However, when I finally arrived to this space some of my expectations were met, but not completely. Dich Vong is not a suburban center, but rather a urban one in which tall buildings intimidated and invaded your sense of not only time and space, but size.

I felt small and perhaps insignificant standing against, or rather under these tall complexes. These gray towers frowned and I frowned with them. The streets were wide and empty. Traffic seemed rare at this time of day--around 2 pm siesta time. There were actual private parking spots, mainly for cars. In fact, this was perhaps the first i had ever seen large parking lots in Ha Noi. One of our group members, either Micky or Lena, explained how she felt somewhat dislocated along with those who were "relocated" from their rural homes for "development purposes" to these large frowning skyscrapers; projects; apartment complexes; duplexes; whatever you want to call them.

Finally, unlike the prior space's streets which mirror a lot of the surrounding areas of HANU, I was able to comfortably and safely cross the street without worrying about getting hit because there was literally no one there to do so. Mmmm.. with all this space i felt free, but in many ways, I felt also confined.

Finally, I felt as though my individual rights were somewhat restored, yet it was quite lonely, desolate, and isolated here as it seems to be reminiscent of urban sprawl and decay of New York City and various urban centers that modeled their planning after it. In light of discourses around globalization, development, progress, and Westernization, I could not stop thinking about Hip Hop as it birthed in a similar, if not the same, landscape, built environment.

To my surprise, to further provide evidence on many people's claims on the "globally expanding" and "homogenizing" effects of urban spaces on culture and way of life, there was a large amount of graffiti which again reminds you of any city in America. Indeed what is a city without graffiti nowadays--individual expression/reflection/criticism on the very structures that simultaneous define and confine the lives of people living there. I wonder what are compelling factors led those who wrote on the walls to express through this particular kind of medium which still remains a controversial one?

The last thing I would like to cover is the recurring dichotomously-oriented themes of "inside-out" and "private" vs. "public." During class I remembered Micky formulating a spatial theory as it relates to "modernity, rationalism, efficiency," and notions of "development" and urban or city planning. As spaces become more commercialized or privatized, the streets seem to get wider, sidewalks serve to protect the rights of pedestrians, and the "body of community spirit and human exchange" of literally street life gets evacuated to the inside; thus, inside/out and public/private precipitates or consolidates into this polarized binary-- the kind of rational thought we've come to love and understand as a kind model for truth in the "modern world."

Like I mentioned in the beginning I can connect to a space like this and its alienating impacts on the individual, but at the same time prioritize and protect the individual. In San Jose, I live in suburbia in which such this kind of "narcissism" exists. It is the space against and around which a lot of contemporary punk rockers, emo kids, and politicized hipsters speak out--these very themes of isolation, loneliness, depression, etc that permeate many body of narratives and critiques of this particular setting. Would I live here? My answer would perhaps not be simply as "yes" or "no." I am split on this question. I'd live there in part because that's what I know and am familiar with. I would not live there in part because of its potential negative psychological effects. In spite of all the "symptoms" and "side effects" of modern living, like I mentioned before culture emerges out of struggle whether it is rock or hip hop, graffiti art, or poetry. These kinds of spaces have been regarded as hubs for hipness and coolness. I would probably want to do more research on this later. For now, it's really all up in the air just like these phallic towers.

Spatial Mapping: Luong Dinh Cua and Hoang Tich Tri

Shout outs to Team Cucumber!**

While trying to map this particular space in Ha Noi like a cartographer, I could not help but to reflect on the space from which I myself come: suburban central San Jose and urban Berkeley campus area. I began somewhat comparing and contrasting what life could be like living here in Ha Noi as opposed to there, back home in San Jose or Berkeley. This project helped me think more about the significance of different human living spaces throughout history. For instance, the images of migration from rural to urban then to suburban kept resonating in my mind-- and I wonder.. is that what you call human geographical progress? How does one determine the "direction" of particular spaces though each space indeed has their particular function or purpose (ie: rural as a space of agriculture, urban as a space of commerce, and suburban as a space of consumption). As a result, I became very critical on my background of an American growing up in San Jose suburbia with wide, empty streets; cars more visible than actual human bodies; mass-produced homes echoing sameness and the mundane. *silence* Of course where I come from is who I am. Who are these people here on this street.. and how/where do they live?

The street my group mapped can be categorized in between a village and urban landscape. If you were to theoretically situate this space in time, you could perhaps interpret it as "backwards" compared to American metropolitan urban or suburban landscapes. While many would come to such a conclusion based on European/Western rationalization of history and capitalist material developments, I on the contrary try to remind myself that this space like any other space is where human beings live and interact with one another. I coming from suburban San Jose can say that people here talk and interact with each other more as almost everything you need (goods and services) are in walkable distance. I can imagine how people here who do business and are residents here (many people in fact live where they work) know and cooperate with each other. Back at home, I don't even know my own neighbors in my neighborhood. Instead of seeing faces of people, I see the head and tail lights of cars. There is definitely a kind of alienation in contrast to here where it is much more intimate. Literally, you see people cook right in front of your face. Not only do customers crowd the stores, but the families: sons, daughters, moms, dads, grandmothers, grandfathers, and so on do as well. The business often times is the extension of the home.

I would not mind living here because it is indeed much more of a "community" in comparison to where I come. It may not have sidewalks or such excessively wide streets, or be considered "modern" from the temporal and spatial standards of many. It indeed has humanity; that is, the presence of actual human contact and family ethos from my perspective. I may have a romanticized view on this space, but I still stand strongly in opposition to those who denigrate or are condescending towards people who maynot live like how "we" Americans live. Check your own, especially where you're from. Foo!

Giggin' It Up

I found the personal account of a McDonald’s crew member particularly interesting in part because I was a McDonald’s crew member when I was 16 years old. My experiences working there perhaps is no different than Kysha’s with the exception of flirting with boys in the drive-thru. Unfortunately, many of my friends at the time had not gotten their license yet to shape my experience in that way. I also was absolutely horrible at drive-thru. The work ethic at McDonald’s Kysha describes is extremely accurate what the managers and owners expected of their crew members. For example, when there were no customers around you were not allowed to sit around or “rest.” You were forced to clean/sanitize any messy areas on the counter, lobby, the outside, or even the bathroom. Stocking was also an option if there was down time. Even though if everything was stocked up and clean, you would have to make it seem as if you were busy. I often found myself pretending to be working while there were no customers. Indeed there was absolutely no “free time.” Your time is the owner’s time. Your time does not belong to you. It belongs to McDonald’s. Time is money.

Relating Kysha’s experience of the “business” or “pseudo-business” of this particular work, I find stark contrast to this labor sphere to the street market vendors I observe in Ha Noi. For example, many people who sell and provide services on the streets around HANU perhaps own their time. Unlike McDonald’s enforcement of busy-ness when there is downtown from customer service, the street market vendors and servicers simply just chill or have conversation with their family, friends, or neighboring businesses. Even in the restaurants when a worker is not the owner, they still have some sort of control over their time, especially the idle times during their shift. This article helped me reflect on the ways in which societies and peoples interpret the notions of capital, time, work, leisure, and ownership. Having in the insider perspective of being an actual crew member of McDonald’s definitely helped my own understanding of the work spaces and its relative philosophies. I would like to know more about the work spaces in Ha Noi and how they operate it. What are exactly the similarities aside from the differences?

Son's Autobiography

Born on December 25, 1988 in San Jose CA. Originally his parents expected him to come out as a girl, Son came out as a boy. Surprise! Another chapter in hand-me-downs. Blue over pink. A few dollars less every month though it was perhaps another disappointment given the Chau family already had three sons. Budget baby. Instead of spending Christmas in the living room, the Chau's spent their holiday they had been trying to adopt in their calendar in the hospital. Another time to adjust time. Domestic time over “foreign” time. Age distortion. Christian time over Lunar time. Many things to get used to including this new member of the family. The name Son was given to the new baby by the monk the family journeyed with on boats. That name would indeed play a large role in his understanding of self.

I used to think that Son meant simply “paint” so I was quite enthusiastic when it came to painting or drawing. In kindergarten, I vividly remember the numerous times other kids would point out the pun in my name. Son is associated with family, like son and daughter under mother and father. Or even, sun like the big bright yellow ball in the sky. Internalizing such external interpretations of my name, I affirmed my identity by focusing most of my efforts on drawing the sun in those exercises to introduce children to the natural world in order to provoke imagination. White paper. Brown tree (don’t forget the roots). Green Leaves. Green Grass. Blue Sky. Puffy Clouds. Of course, a big yellow sun with radiant orange rays ironically wearing sun glasses. Its own rays were just too bright for itself.

I might have mimicked the popular Coca Cola commercial during that time as well. The sun cannot get hydrated on simply water. It can only get hydrated on Cola, that dark water with syrup and sugar. I would say hello to these images upon every happy meal my mother would reward me with for being a good son… “ngoan.” I loved those cheeseburger happy meals, though those toys did not last long in my imaginative play cycles.

Throughout k-12 education, identity permeated a lot of my thoughts, questions, and curiosities. On first day of school at Schallenberger Elementary School in San Jose, CA, on the outskirts of the Willow Glen community, I remember it was a hard transition from hanging out with my mother all the time, watching television: Power Ranges, Arthur, Scooby Doo, and Popeye. I remember how I felt coming into the classroom with other kids; many who did not look like me, and a few who did. I was reminded that perhaps I was different and many kids reminded me that I was throughout these 12 years.

After kindergarten, from first grade until my last year of high school, I got into many fights with primarily Latino and white students who reminded me of my “alienness.” Puns for my name expanded to racial slurs and cultural denigration by other students. It was not just son and daughter, or sun in the sky anymore. Rather, it was about pointing out the foreignness of my name, questions of why parents did not give me an American name, and how others were uncomfortable of calling me by my name. Perhaps that is why my last name “Chau” has to be included with “Son” for people feel comfortable when calling or referring me. Two syllables. A rhythmic combination. Son Chau! Son Chau! However, even by including my last name, others were tempted to make fun of it because it again was another foreign name. Un-American. Un-American. I became very violent to others and myself when it came to identity or culture. Middle-school was an incredibly hard time for me, especially when other students were still discerning where they belonged. Unlike many who did find their place, I still felt displaced in what I felt was the wrong part of town throughout high school.

By the time I got to high school, I continued to get into fights with other kids during lunch, after school, and sometimes in P.E. in the locker room. I grew very impatient and frustrated with myself and my parents at times. Conflict was apparent in both spheres of school and home. I knew about the other side of town, East Side San Jose in contrast to my side, Central San Jose where Asians, primarily Vietnamese people were the majority. Although this area seemed appealing to me at the time, I soon realized the inequality neighborhoods by reflecting on the similarities and differences of the two sides of town. East Side San Jose was considered the area to which no one wanted to go because of its issues of poverty, violence, and instability.

I am very passionate and enthusiastic about topics of history, philosophy, culture, humanity, and the like. I am a very reflective person who seeks to find meaning in everything in life whether it be material or cognitive. If I had not gone through experiences of racism and alienation in school I perhaps would not be as conscious and critical as I am today. Towards the middle to the end of high school I became heavily involved with community service. Key Club became a means through which I was able to meet new people throughout CA. I researched and read on Civil Rights and Black Power in my leisure time because I felt my struggle against racism was somehow tied to Black struggle for equality and liberation.

In my head phones, I would listen to Hip Hop from the late 80’s and early 90’s my brother would lend me to complement this self- political education with hip hop education via music. I continued to practice dancing, particularly poppin’ as it was something to do during lunch. This was a way to break racial and ethnic boundaries between Asian and Latino students at my school Willow Glen High School. In middle school Willow Glen Middle School, I was an avid and ambitious learner of glowsticking, a dance which involved creating complex patterns with light sticks to electronica.

Now in my fourth year at Berkeley, I constantly look backwards while moving forward. I believe a lot of the things that happened to me and things I helped happen are not coincidental. Instead, it is somehow a linear progression, or at least how I would like to understand it. I grateful for what I have, where I am, especially having the privilege and opportunity to be in Viet Nam participating in EAP Viet Nam, and where I am headed; I hope to go to graduate school and make social change in the classroom in the future though my options are flexible. I am driven heavily by my passions which emerged out of my struggle for identity and belonging and my family’s struggles as refugees: starting from scratch, making something out of literally nothing (at least, physically and financially with exception of governmental assistance).

This coming semester I hope to better understand how the local mirrors the global in terms of political, social, and cultural issues. I hope to learn more about where my family came from and how my own identity or how I choose to identify myself is relevant. I want to challenge my own beliefs whether it is political or philosophical regarding humanity, equality, and democracy. In the states I am all about “the people” and “equality/love for all,” but what does it all mean in a country like Viet Nam with a whole different context of political struggles and strife? I am incredibly intrigued by left-wing and “humanist” ideals, but how does the whole political spectrum play out in so-called socialist states? I hope to challenge myself on various levels in hopes to become a more globally conscious human being.