With Ruins

Choose a quiet
place, a ruins, a house no more
a house,
under whose stone archway I stood
one day to duck the rain.

The roofless floor, vertical
studs, eight wood columns
supporting nothing,
two staircases careening to nowhere, all
make it seem

a sketch, notes to a house, a three-
dimensional grid negotiating
absences,
an idea
receding into indefinite rain,

or else that idea
emerging, skeletal
against the hammered sky, a
human thing, scoured seen clean
through from here to an iron heaven.

A place where things
were said and done,
there you can remember
what you need to
remember. Melancholy is useful. Bring yours.

There are no neighbors to wonder
who you are,
what you might be doing
walking there,
stopping now and then

to touch a crumbling brick
or stand in a doorway
framed by the day.
No one has to know you
think of another doorway

that framed the rain or news of war
depending on which way you faced.
You think of sea-roads and earth roads
you traveled once, and always
in the same direction: away

You think
of a woman, a favorite
dress, your old father's breasts
the last time you saw him, his breath,
brief, the leaf

you've torn from a vine and which you hold now
to your cheek like a train ticket
or a piece of cloth, a little hand or a blade -
it all depends
on the course of your memory.

It's a place
for those who own no place
to correspond to ruins in the soul.
It's mine.
It's all yours.

- Li-Young Lee

LYL is in my opinion one of the most intelligent and graceful poets writing in contemporary American poetry. Some might say that we have moved far beyond his "lyric I", that we are now exploring, exploding, imploding prose poetry, experimental poetry, language poetry, that we are now actually just embracing the notion of our "fragmented I" etc. I think there is room for all that and more -- the beauty of fragmented discourse, the complexity of abstract language, the malleability of intense emotions, etc. The incredible accomplishment embodied in each of LYL's poems is the way he manages to articulate the "complex I" in all its hybridized authenticity. Because of his social location, thanks to his attunement to cultural contexts, his lyricism is intertwined with deeper levels of the speakable, unspeakable, and unspoken -- what he calls the "visible and invisible" being embodied.

Even though this is a stanzaic poem, he achieves the same affect -- the juxtapositioning of concrete and abstract, the jumps from line to image to idea -- as is done in prose poems: "stand in a door way / framed by the day". I love the surprise of finding such a solid object like a wooden doorway being framed by something so large and amorphous as "the day", something so undefinable and inconstant.

Imperial Hero

A good friend of ours, Dr. KJK, showed me and M. what our names would look like as Chinese characters. The first character with what looks like a squiggly capital B is the family name: Tran. Followed by my middle name, L. Then the last two are my first names. Here is mine:

陳黎皇英

Unfortunately for me, I am unable to enlarge this any further, so you'll have to pull out the magnifying glass to count the actual strokes. Apparently, in Chinese, my name means the same as in Vietnamese: Imperial hero!!

The first part of my given name (which starts with H) has several meanings, some of which are: "grand, magnificent, imperial, emperor, heavenly, yellow golden." This is not very different from the Vietnamese at all!

The second part of my given name (which starts with A) means brave, courageous, heroic, brilliance.

There you are, my friends. I'd never really paid attention the definition and symbolism of my name in other languages. Mostly b/c it isn't your typical name like "Sophia" that could be looked up on the internet and it is too complicated to explain. But, now that I know what my name is supposed to look like in the language of my ancestors (I'm 1/8 Chinese, didn't I tell you?), I feel weighted down by a burden of thousands of years of history and culture.

Signing off for today, yours ever truly,

Imperial Hero.

If looks could kill...

Today is a first for the Tran sisters: we both were "working" on this first Sunday in Lent. Because M. and I are both on the rotation to preach the sermon and do Children's Time (respectively), our turn came around on the same day, so the parish got a double-dose of Trans.

M's sermon was on: the theme of “journey to the cross” and what it means for us as pilgrims on that journey—e.g., the things we see/don’t see on the way... this theme is connected to the theme of seeing (vision) and w/ the themes of identity & purpose imbedded in the transfiguration story & the temptation of Jesus.

Usually, as Lent comes around, we are often asked, or ask of ourselves, what we will "give up" during Lent, as if giving up something superficiall for several days would have meaning and would change our lives and change the world in which we live. Kids are often encouraged to give up television, or women give up chocolate, or teens give up internet usage, etc. As Easter morning comes, things go back to what they were before.

To subvert that, we then ask "what will we take up" as a way of carrying the cross to follow Jesus. And we end up wearing a cross until Easter. Or we go to Bible Study during Lent when we normally don't. Or we take up studious readings of the Bible -- daily, religiously -- and we could really mean it. Until the 40 days are over.

M. reminds us that the notion of the 40 days of Lent harken back to the Cycles of 40 that appear and re-appear in the Bible narratives -- and they all point towards some sort of journeying or pilgrimage that changes the lives of the sojourner. Lives are dramatically affected and sometimes the price is heavy. But isn't this what it means for us as peoples of faith (and I don't just mean those of the Christian faith b/c the search for the sacred is inherent in all faiths).

But, during this Lenten season, what if we consider what happens when we only "look" w/o doing anything? When does merely looking and inaction actually "kill"? When does apathy and indifference kill? M. cited the movie "The Gathering" (starring Christina Ricci) which is about a group of spectators who attended the crucifixion of Christ. They came to watch out of curiosity and not out of grief, and so they were cursed to be spectators of violence throughout human history. They watch out of a voyeuristic desire instead of taking action.

So what does that mean for us? For me? Here is where my Children's sermon came into the scene. The Lenten season is a time to remind these young folks that they can be agents of social change, that they can become leading examples of environmetal protection.

For these young folks, we can encourage them to look at ways they can be pro-active in preserving and conserving the earth -- everything that has been created for human consumption and development. From conserving water to recycling to using renewable energy sources to planting trees... they can become responsible protectors of this earth and preserve the planet for those who come after them -- the future generation.

Instead of something large like tackling world hunger, instead of something large like disease and poverty, what about something concrete that they can focus on? Instead of some vague thing like remembering that Christ died for their sins (what does that mean to a 6 year old?), isn't it more helpful to remind them of the responsibility of being agents of change? What better way than to tell them that they can follow Christ by doing more than just looking...

Rain by M. Lakshmi Gill

Ink flows down the sky
black rain, like water
dripping on a fresh-
written page

black rain, washingaway
the words, the verbs of our
life unheeding the frantic
rush to save

- 1970, M. Lakshmi Gill,

Unsung songs

I humbly amend the statement that I'd made in a previous post about Cecil Rajendra. What I should have said was that, in the U.S., there are not a lot of poetry (dealing with these issues) written by Southeast Asian poets that are widely circulated in English. They exist, they were written, are being written, and will be written. Yet they don't seem to have wide reception.

Songs for the Unsung...

This past January, when I was in Kuala Lumpur, I came across a book of poetry written by Cecil Rajendra, a professional lawyer practicing in Penang, Malaysia, and who is, apparently, one of Malaysia's best known poets. His bio indicates that he has seven volumes of poetry published, and his works have been translated into various languages like Chinese, Japanese, Malay, Urdu, and German.

Unable to read the original, I can only read and admire the nuances conveyed in the English language. Despite everything lost within the translation, I thought it was most admirable that he tackles, unflinchingly, issues of social and political concern. Inside these poems, he takes on poverty, hunger, nuclear war, disease, industrial development, war, refugees, etc., in sweeping songs of condemnation and lamentation, of hope and rejuvenation.

Poetry that deals with these issues are not often written, and when they are, they are crafted poorly. Rajendra's poetry is no exception. His poems are interesting to me not because they are exquisite lines or are of finely honed aesthetic, but only b/c they are daring and courageous in wanting to deal with large issues, with problems and challenges that surpass geographical, cultural, economic, political, social borders.

I cannot emphasize enough how much I dislike poems filled with phrases like "i want to sing / of all that was / but no longer is" and so on, so on. But, there is something in Rajendra's poetry that is acceptable, worthwhile. Redeemable? Redeeming?

No celebratory song

So long
as car-parks take
precedence over hospitals
multi-storeyed hotels
over homes for people
irrelevant factories
over the paddy-fields
of our daily sustenance

I shall
sing no celebratory song
no matter
how many suns go down
This tongue
will be of thistle and thorn
until they right the wrong

So long
as Law comes before Justice
the edifice before service
the payment before treatment
and appearance before essence

I shall sing no celebratory song

So long
as the poet is debased
and the businessman praised
the realist rewarded
and the idealist denigrated

I shall
sing no celebratory song
no matter
how many suns go down
This tongue
will be of thistle and thorn
until they right the wrong

So long
as foreign investors
devastate our estate
and the voice of capital
speaks louder than
the pleas of fisherman

So long
as blind bulldozers
are allowed unchecked
to gouge our landscape
and multinationals
licensed to run
amuck across this land

I shall
sing no celebratory song

So long
as our rivers and streams
our beaches, our air
our oceans and trees
our birds, our fish
our butterflies and bees
are strangled, stifled
polluted, poisoned
crushed, condemned...
by lopsided development

I shall
sing no celebratory song
no matter
how many suns go down
This tongue
will be of thistle and thorn
until they right the wrong

Week of Action Against Immigration Raids

Dear Friends,

Ministerios Nueva Vida/New Life Ministries will be organizing a prayer vigil from 6 p.m.-7 p.m. each evening next week (Feb. 26th-March 2nd) as part of the week of action to support immigrant rights.

Illustrating the need to fix our broken immigration system that keeps families apart, the recent increase in ICE enforcement and questionable tactics has left families separated and communities fearful of law enforcement, making them more vulnerable to exploitation and abuse. Immigrants and their allies will join together to call for immigration reform and denounce the raids.

What: Week of Action Against Immigration Raids

When: Monday, February 26 to Friday, March 2, 2007

Where:
11AM- 1PM: Actions each day in front of the Immigration Building
630 Sansome St in San Francisco

4PM – 7PM: Local community events throughout the BayArea (to be released at a later date)

Who: Bay Area Immigrant Rights Coalition, Deportena la Migra, National Network for Immigrant and Refugee Rights, La Raza Centro Legal Day Labor Program, Arab American Legal Center, St Peters Housing Committee, POWER, Mujeres Unidas y Activas, Chinese Progressive Association, San Francisco Central Labor Council

Why: More than ever we need a fair and just immigration law that keeps families and loved ones together. Recent ICE community and workplace raids have terrorized the immigrant community and ripped families apart; immigrant communities are increasingly marginalized and frightened. Community organizations, churches, unions and social service agencies are boldly coming together to call for an end to all ICE raids and for regional and local authorities to
the safety of all our communities.

Detailed schedule of activities forthcoming!

The Scholar Ship

It's basically a school located on a cruise ship that travels around to different ports in the world. Students of the Scholar Ship are actually enrolled in the seven participating consortial universities (UC Berkeley being the most recently joined) in different programs, taking intercultural courses on politics, environment, culture, television, literature, history, etc. There are field studies, shore excursions, and independent travel; all this applied towards undergrad and postgrad studies. There will be 600 students, plus teaching faculty, administrative staff, and crew.

September 2007, the inaugural voyage will take off from Athens and then travel through Asia, North & South America, and the South Pacific. The semester is 16 weeks on this cruise ship -- including port stops and shore excursions -- around the world.

Why didn't they have this kind of thing when I was in school? Life would have been very different -- I would not have been a shy, geeky nerd trapped in a campus of 3000+ teens. Instead, I might have been a shy, geeky Asian traveling around the world on a cruise ship.

Intercultural learning and multicultural environment.

How do I stow away? I doubt they'll even know I'm there...

Wayward Hayward: 3.4 earthquake

Yesterday, at about 3:45 p.m., precisely when I was standing in front of all those metal cabinets in my office digging through my files for something on the Council of Deans, a 3.4 trembler shook the entire Bay Area. Apparently, the Hayward faultline decided to remind everyone that it's waking up. No casualties, no damage. Yet one more little jolt to jostle us out of our reverie. I remember that this time last year, on Ash Wednesday, a little trembler also shook the Bay Area.

Visit the Berkeley Seismological Lab to find out how soon before you'll feel the shakes after a quake hits.

Bo Vo

Đêm giao thừa ai đợi mưa qua
Từ Thức tìm đâu một mái nhà
Có phải chính em cầm gió bấc
Quất ngang sông Đuống buốt phù sa?

- thơ Hoàng Cầm, Thi Ca Việt Nam Chọn Lọc

La Nho

Ai bóc hồn tôi ra khỏi xác
Mà nghe rào rạo thịt lìa xương
hồn đi quanh quất trên mi mắt
Người gái li quê khóc cuối đường

Xác vẫn tăn teo vèo mảnh lá
Rơi trên bờ lạnh thuở hồng hoang
Đôi tình nhân trẻ đi cầu tự
Đạp rúi đường đêm - Lá bẽ bàng

Rồi lại chiều mai lại sớm kia
Lá không in dấu phận chia lìa
Cứ lang thang phố nhờ cơn gió
Nhè nhẹ sang hè rẽ lối khuya.

- "Lá Nhớ", Hoàng Cầm, Thi Ca Việt Nam Chọn Lọc

In a boat flooded w/ moonlight

The psalms are of course poems written out of deep and often passionate faith. What I am proposing is that the poetic medium made it possible to articulate the emotional freight, the moral consequences, the altered perception of the world that flowed from this monotheistic belief, in compact verbal structures that could in some instances seem simplicity itself. Psalms, at least in the guise of cultic hymns, were a common poetic genre throughout the ancient Near East, but as the form was adopted by Hebrew poets, it often became an instrument for expressing in a collective voice (whether first person plural or singular) a distinctive, sometimes radically new, sense of time, space, history, creation, and the character of individual destiny. - Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Poetry

It is fitting, I think, that my very first post in the Year of the Fire Pig (or Golden Hog) should be about poetry. Like Pen over at Pen and M's, it is easy to forget that only a short while ago, I was a vital part of a thriving writers community, working hard to develop my writing -- and with great albeit naive hopes of developing my sense of self -- all the while grappling with ways of becoming more conscious, focused, on the world and its larger contexts w/o drowning from a depressing sense of anonymity and insignificance.

What does this have to do with Psalms and the Hebrew poets? It's in the form: they used poetry (and art & music & everything in Creation) as a way of engaging the world, as a way of understanding their participation in the complex societies of their time. Poetry was a conduit, a vehicle, through which they crafted and understood their contextualized histories -- and then made those known to everyone else that dared to listen. Had I known, had I thought of it, I might have used the craft with a stronger determination and maybe might have perceived the particularities of my graduate school experiences differently.

Perhaps with a bit of ingenuity and imagination, I might have been able to do more than what I did (what was it that I did?). Perhaps even articulate "the emotional freight" of being hyphenated then unhyphenated, abridged then expanded, translated then re-defined. Perhaps even articulate an "altered perception of the world" or maybe alternate perceptions of the world, coming from the perspective of she who dwelled in a city of minorities.

While I think fondly but critically of my three years in graduate school -- studying poetry of all things -- I am reminded that there were multiple instances of feeling acutely solitary -- isolated? -- within a much more formidable collective. It wasn't just that I was the only Vietnamese American poet in the city of Wilmington (please allow me this one exaggeration -- it impresses on one's mind that I was feeling bereft, if only in my imagination, but bereft nonetheless). But I hail from a family of Asian descent firmly entrenched in a Christian faith built upon foundations heavily influenced by colonial-imperialist histories. That's a mouthful, but it isn't so far from the relative truth.

Poetry was the "instrument for expressing in a collective voice... the character of individual destiny." I don't think I understood that, or perhaps I understood but did not know how to use such instruments of power. It was a game, me being teased continuously, with the potential of thơ but unable to extricate its power. The collective voice I channeled was not familiar with my "individual destiny", and I disregarded some of that complexity. Forgot the language for that kind of discourse, even. The poetic enticed me with the appearance of simplicity, and I neglected what was buried underneath, all the compacted layers -- culture, religion, politics, economics, etc. -- all that hidden inside something seemingly simple.

I write about all this, nói mãi cũng không nói đủ, just to say that I had forgotten the collective voice of where I came from, and allowed some to drown out the others. The most unmoving -- không thay đổi -- image I can conjure up for the beginning of this year, một năm đầy hy vọng, is this poem:

Midnight. No waves.
No wind. The empty boat
is flooded with moonlight.

In this haiku rests the image of the solitary, the individual, but there is also a sense of the expansive, the connectedness created by the absence of movement that might part the air and move the boat. There is a seeming seamlessness, which is punctuated by the moon -- referenced obliquely by the "moonlight" -- and the empty boat. Yet the boat's individuality is zeroed, nulled, by its emptiness. Back and forth, the haiku struggles -- uplifts?-- for our appreciation the complex states of being, the awareness of self and no self. Individual destiny within a collective voice.

Photo copyright F. Monteiro

Last day of the year

By now, millions of people in Vietnam have celebrated the coming of the new year. They are now living the first day of the Year of the Pig. But for me and other Vietnamese Americans living "o Hai Ngoai," today is the last day of the year.

Last flowers of the year

Flora and fauna seen & photographed on the last day of Year of the Dog.

Dragon dancing

When I was in San Jose, a youth organization in the Viet community performed a short dragon dance in front of the fountain outside the New Century shopping center. Usually, dragon dance troops are much older, better trained and so the dance routines are more elaborate, and the dragons themselves are more spectacularly designed. But, regardless, the kids were absolutely enthralled, and when they were not scared by the firecrackers, they were thrilled that the dragons would often come up to them face to face... it's not often that one dances with dragons!

Shopping for Tet

A "must" for Tet is the shopping... lots of great foods and fruits must be purchased for this time of year, and if you can buy or make the real "traditional" foods, you must "make do" with whatever is available.

Banh Tet, banh Chung is very traditional. They are made with sticky rice, beans, pork, spices, etc. and wrapped in banana leaves then steamed for a very long time. The square-shaped cakes are banh chung. The log-shaped cakes are banh tet, and they can be sweet (made with bananas inside) or savory (made w/ beans and pork).

Day la mut mang cau va mut me (cay hay kg cay). These are varieties of preserved soursop (custard apple) candies and preserved tamarind candies. Also available are mut ging (ginger), mut dua (coconut), mut tac (kumquat), hot dua (dried watermelon seeds), hot bi (pumpkin seeds), peanut brittle, v.v.

Foods I ate on 30Tet

Banh chung

Banh bot loc

Bo bia

Banh khot

Decorations for Tet

Stuff lucky envelopes (traditionally red for luck) with money or good wishes. Hang them on a kumquat tree or give them away, but hopefully you'll get some, too!

Even if you don't grow "hoa dao" hoac "bach mai" in your yard, kiem alternates like quince and you'll be able to chung hoa cho nha tuoi dep.

O ben day, du minh kg co son nha, son cua, nhung van co nhieu dieu phai lam de prepare the house for the new year.

Treo len mot hai con heo cho nam moi phat tai! [There are so many things that have to be done that is a part of the "customs" for Tet, but poor as I am, I have to find alternative methods of setting up house. Really just "playing" house.]

Prosperity in the Year of the Pig

A wish from a friend, now passed onto you, for this, the Year of the Pig:

Uoc gi duoc do,
Tien vo day tui,
Tinh vao day tim!

May you give and receive many lucky envelopes, filled with prosperity, health, and love. Nguyen Chua ban phuoc du dat tren cac ban va gia dinh cac ban trong nam nay.

At the ranch

Last week, I was fortunate enough to participate in the Board of Trustees Retreat at The Bishop's Ranch in Healdsburg, CA.

We were hidden inside wine country, surrounded by rain and mist and fog the entire three days at the Ranch. Around us, the vineyards were silent but growing. Row after row of little vines climbing their way towards the air, a unified breathing experience. In this landscape, everywhere we go are silent spaces, exhaling.

In the evenings, the fireplaces light up and shadows of people flash along the walls lined with art. Outside the refectory are empty benches looking out toward a field of green grass and trees stripped of leaves.

Twice, we found mornings silent save for the patter of rain, when we settle broken halves of our selves in wooden chairs painted white.

After lunch on the third day, we leave the muddied Ranch, heading straight into torrential rain, the expansive vineyards growing miles and miles north of us.

Hauru no ugoku shiro: Howl's Moving Castle

Howl loses the magic that keeps his hair beautiful, making it change from blond to red to blue black. His magic slowly seeping from his body, his skin oozing into green slime pools, Howl throws a tantrum, saying there's no point in living if he's no longer beautiful.

Sophie is a young, slender woman with long brown hair. She lives her life working in a secluded little hat shop. After being cursed by the Witch of the Waste, she is turned into a hunch-backed old woman with wrinkled skin, love handles, and gray hair. She eventually learns "the lesson" that beauty isn't skin deep, and that her heart is what matters. After learning this valuable life lesson, her physical appearance changes to reflect her true inner beauty: back into her thinner, younger self.

Miyazuki's rendition of Jones's novel into Japanese animation is brilliantly done -- very beautiful and elegant. Yet, what does the film say about beauty and truth. Apparently, beauty -- even true inner beauty which one can only rediscover after undergoing a life-changing journey -- that beauty is represented as young, slender, translucent pale skin and long flowing hair.

Even with this definition of beauty, how am I able to endure this movie? Yet I do. I love its flowing, colorful landscapes and artistry. And it also helps that the movie has a magic castle with a magical portal for doors that open into houses situated in different locations.

Aart in Vietnam

By Jon Dillingham

Aart, a new publication chronicling and promoting contemporary art in Viet Nam, has been released in HCM City by Mogas Station, a collective of international artists based in the city.

Published in Singapore and distributed in Viet Nam by the Goethe Institute Ha Noi in co-operation with Singapore Biennale, Aart presents sections on visual art, music, fashion, architecture, society, exhibitions and reviews.

The first issue features the work of Mogas Station Members Hoang Duong Cam (Vietnamese) and Jun Nguyen-Hatsushiba (Vietnamese-Japanese-American) as well as other artists and writers based in Viet Nam, France, Japan, Thailand, Myanmar, and the US.

The publication aspires to improve "the quality of cultural discourse and exchange of information within Viet Nam while sharing Viet Nam’s own contemporary arts practice with a larger international audience," said a group statement accompanying the publication.

With articles in both English and Vietnamese, Aart aims to bring foreigners and Vietnamese together through a greater appreciation of art in Viet Nam.

Mogas Station, whose members have exhibited throughout Asia and Europe, launched Aart at the Goethe Institut in Ha Noi last November hot off their LZ installation at the Singapore Biennale 2006.

The publication’s release party, held at the Khanh Casa showroom (11 Mai Thi Luu, District 1) last Friday, also hosted the opening of a photo-collage exhibit by Mogas Station’s Gulschan Gothel (German), which will show until Friday. — VNS

Tet: New Year's in 4 days

Photo courtesy of Melissa Ma at Jumpside.

Photo taken by HAT in Singapore's Haw Par Village. Jan2007.

On the SoapBox

Chao mi! May hom nay, minh da kiem cach de leo len soapbox, nhung kiem hoai kg thay cach nao buoc len dc. Mai den hom nay moi danh "lieu mot phen", chi vi kg muon mi buon vi da nhieu ngay kg thay minh blog gi ca. Vay thi, co thac mac may hom nay minh suy nghi ve gi kg? I've contemplated the topic of the sermon I heard preached on Sunday, which was Racism Awareness Day, at the UCC church I visited in Oakland. Because I don't know about that particular church community, I feel both comfortable and uncomfortable in launching my critique (well, not really critique, but more like unsympathizing observations).

Before I start, I should also say that I am slightly leery of posting these comments on the blog because blogs are the gray territories of where private and public merge. This may be nothing but HAT's (a virtual space designated for my own usage) but it is really nothing but -- because it isn't anything I can call my own. That said, I'm still going to say what I've been itching to say for days now (but didn't know of an eloquent way to say it).

This past Sunday, I was a part of a rather diverse group seated in the cavernous santuary -- black, chinese, vietnamese, white, latino/latina, and I'm guessing a few others were also of southeast asian descent. Yet, despite our multi-cultural and multi-ethnic make-up, the preacher (a white woman raised in upper-middle class South African cultures) kept emphasizing that the racism issue was not an institutional problem, but an individual problem. She also re-iterated several times that "we" needed to recognize our responsibilities in the racism existing between black and white people. In that conversation, Asian Americans in the audience were invisible because though we look Asian, our presence wasn't strong enough to overcome the overwhelming sense of white guilt which dominated a large part of the sermon. Racism awareness day did not include conversation about cross-cultural or cross-ethnic racism. Racism was narrowly and quickly defined as white vs. black, never mind that racism and prejudice between economic and social classes of the same ethnic race make significant differences. Never mind that there are entire races of people existing in the world with similar if not even greater concerns. Never mind that peoples of Arabic and Asian descent also exist. Never mind. This is just oversimplifying the situations so that we don't have to think beyond the rote.

At the risk of exemplifying the "model SE Asian" who has to ask the obvious, I have to ask again, isn't it about time we realize that racism isn't easily dichotomized between black or white? That it is not just institutional or individual? What of classicism? Sexism? Agism?

This isn't new. You have heard this before. Let me say this then. De HAT noi dieu nay nhe. Minh met lam -- met moi vi luc nao cung phai ngoi o ngoai cuoc trong khi nhung nguoi My trang ngoi do de talk and talk to me instead of dialoguing with me. In fact, it should not just be a dialogical experience but a polyphonic experience. And it should include all voices.

And yes, that includes all the voices in my head, too. And they're getting rather loud...

by Boyer Rickel

Since today is Valentine's Day, I had to post something with heart in it. So, here it is...

Keats thought his heart too small
to hold its blood. I’m reading his letters
at the kitchen table where a window
hangs the pepper tree in the room—what’s
outside, alive and moving in a summer wind,
contained, yet threatening to break the frame.
My mother, at 87, quavery of voice and limb,
filled an afternoon with small stories
of all the people who keep her household working:
gardener, handyman, a girl to hang the curtains—
when suddenly, “Could you remind me
how to multiply fractions?” A shy
leaf of a question that can threaten
the frame of a life. The task
we sat down to work on.

Featured in Lyric Review

Jusammi Chikako

Chikako "of the Third Rank," (ca. 1300) one of the leading poets of her time, served in the court of the Japanese Emperor Fushimi. Her poem is a vivid presentation of awakened mind: utterly independent of all the concerns and efforts of our conscious lives, it enters any door that is open to its shining presence. In fact, this poem implies, it may be easier for the bright moon (the symbol of enlightenment) to enter the house of human habitation when the in habitants are not awake -- not watching, or thinking, or hoping for some particular outcome. But still, the door must be left ajar. This is the state of mind of the shikantaza meditation of Japanese Soto Zen: just being.

On this summer night
All the household lies asleep,
And in the doorway,
For once open after dark,
Stands the moon, brilliant, cloudless.

from Women in Praise of the Sacred, ed. Jane Hirshfield, (c) HarperPerennial

Buoc vao mang luoi...

Chao mi! Hom nay lai la mot ngay mua roi tam ta. Suot ngay ngoi o trong long kien nhin ra ngoai, thay cay coi bay di bay lai. La rung day duong, mau sac tu vang den cam den do. Khong phai la minh kg co gi lam cho thu vi, nhung tai vi nho den mi nen danh phai ngoi xuong day de viet mot vai hang.

Phai noi gi day, phai noi gi day? Khong le them mot ngay voi mot de tai "vo van" de ton "virtual space" hay sao? Hom qua da doc lai mot vai bai tho cua Hoang Cam. Doc xong, minh muon khoc vi minh lai mot lan "tu hanh ha" giong nhu la cac cao nhan trong thoi "vo lam." Mi biet kg? Doc xong may hang chu cua HC, minh hoi, viet lam chi ca chut trang giay, ma chang co chu nao dang gia so sanh voi may hang tho cua thi si HC? Neu vay bao nhieu nhat ky, bao nhieu bai tho cam cui ma lam ra, bao nhieu cau chuyen ngan -- dem ra, xet lai chi co 100 chu la su dung duoc. Khong phai la hay, nhung it nhat con su dung duoc.

Trong bai tho "La Dieu Bong," chi can Hoang Cam len tieng mot chu "Chi" la minh biet nguoi co gai trong tho la ai. It nhat co the hinh dung duoc mot phan nao cua tanh tinh co ta.

Vay words cua minh qua la vo dung, vay thi minh leo len blogosphere de lam gi? Tai sao luc nay ca the gioi lai co phong trao tao ra nhung nhat ky tren mang? (What IS the Vietnamese term for blogs anyway?) Tai sao ai ai cung muon len tieng, noi het dieu nay den dieu khac trong mot trong khong, mot empty space chang co hinh dung, chang co tuong mao. Du virtual space nay kg co nhung characteristics rieng, nhung no giup minh hieu dc rat nhieu ve nhung mat khac cua su viec.

Co phai tai vi ai cung giong minh kg? (Oh, the vanity!) Ai cung muon khoe mot chut, muon ghen mot chut, yeu mot chut, gian mot chut, thuong mot chut... va neu minh khoe, ghen, yeu, gian, thuong -- neu minh lam tat ca nhung dieu do mot minh, thi con ai co the cam thong voi minh nua? Mi kg biet sao, do la cai hay cua mang luoi, vi mac du minh o xa nhung minh cung o gan.

Nhung gi private -- nhu la la thu nay -- mang tinh chat rat public. In that ephemeral space, no exist mot cach rat mo ao, mo ho. The line giua private va public that la kho de ve, kho de mieu ta, vi no kg phai la mot duong thang, cung kg phai la mot duong nao het. Chi la mot manh dat bi suong mu che day. Cai anonymity do duoc mang luoi bao phu minh, dong thoi cung bi mang luoi luc tung. Khong co cai gi giau duoc o trong manh luoi nay duoc. Khong nhung vay, minh cam thay rat confused khi phai tung luot tung luot phan tach ra cai gi la rieng cua minh, cai gi la "cua chung."

Va lai, nhung ban chat cua minh bi thay doi, xua doi, nhu the nao khi minh buoc vao cai mang luoi "mo ao" nay? Thoi, mi oi, hom nay minh ngung tai day. Hom khac se viet them nhe.

Chao mi!

Goi Cuon tai Quan Ngon

Chi Hanh presents for your eating pleasure mot goi cuon tu Quan An Ngon tren duong Nguyen Thi Minh Khai tai Saigon.

Goats in the Year of the Pig

In addition to revealing how utterly brainless I am, these silly HATposts serve other purposes, too. They reveal a larger, more significant part of who I am as a Vietnamese American straddling multi-cultural existances on a daily basis. Many of my peers and many of the older generation do not remember what it is like to be Vietnamese. It's surprising that they even get together for family meals when Tet comes around. This is tragic. Tet is intrinsic in the culture of the Viet people. Anyone who comes home for one day and leaves the next -- in their "observance" of the new year -- has forgotten the traditional customs and symbolism of Tet. The celebrations used to be weeks on end. At leat 7 days of visiting one another's homes, well-wishing, feasting, celebrating, etc. It felt necessary to forget old debts and begin anew. It was important to await the new year -- a new beginning -- with generations of young and old sitting in the same house, which has been swept, dusted, mopped, washed, and painted, inside and out. Even now, I forget most of these customs. I forget that the first person to enter my home on the first day of the new year should be someone who will bring me luck. I don't bother putting up signs of newness and rejuvenation. I even forgot to look for those signs. And in this voluntary and intentional neglect, I lose a bit of myself year after year.

I'm often asked if I celebrate Chinese New Year. The answer is, yes, I celebrate the lunar new year. It is easy to forget that the lunar new year is an important part of the Vietnamese culture and many other cultures in S.E. Asia that have been culturally influenced by the Chinese. But, looking at me and how I live, does it even appear like I celebrate Tet? It's impossible to tell. The outward appearance have lost their -- distinctiveness. And distinction.

That said, I'm getting off my platform so that I can post the following from the website Lunar New Year Vietnam Style:

In Vietnam, the calendar was devised based on the regularly changing phases of the moon. Most Vietnamese, even city dwellers and overseas Vietnamese, have a lunar calendar in their homes to consult for festivals and auspicious dates. Because of the use of the lunar calendar, the actual days of the New Year vary from year to year.

The equinoxes and solstices that marked the beginning of the European seasons were taken as the midpoint by the Asian calendar with the result that each Vietnamese season begins six weeks earlier than its European counterpart.

Each year is "sponsored" sequentially by one of the twelve animals of the Vietnamese zodiac: the rat comes first, then the buffalo or ox, followed in order by the tiger, cat, dragon, snake, horse, goat, monkey, cock, dog, and lastly, the pig. Of these animals one is mythical (the dragon) and four (rat, tiger, snake and monkey) are wild, shunning contact with humans. Seven are domesticated. Every twelve years, the sponsorship reverts to the same animal. For example, the years 1976, 1988, 2000, 2012 are dragon years.

In addition the Vietnamese use another set of names by repeating a cycle of 60. The 60-year cycle is made up of combinations of the twelve animals representing the earthly signs of the Vietnamese zodiac and ten heavenly or celestial signs usually called "stems". The Asian calendar forms a cycle of 60 years similar to the western century of one hundred years. The 60-year cycle begins when the first of the twelve zodiac signs is joined with the first of the ten celestial "stems". When each of the ten "stems" is matched with an animal, the result will be 60 different sets. The celestial "stem" attached to the zodiac animal provides modifying influences on the characteristics of the animal. For example, the year of the dog sign can be "modified" by each of ten different associated "stems".

Now, if some of you have seen my Blogger profile, you'll notice that it says I'm a sheep. Well, that is not so. As one of my dear friends from VN has pointed out, I am not a sheep but a goat, unless I've decided to add another animal to the Zodiac. Since I'm not very creative or influential enough to do that, I'll have to explain. I am in fact a goat: con De. In fact, calculated in the Vietnamese zodiac, I am the age of "Ky Mui." It is interesting to know about the Viet way of profiling and identifying ourselves. It is a way of knowing yourself and knowing your neighbors. (And your enemies.) Why? Because, as you've already heard me say, we are a communal people, or we'd like to believe that we are. We are descendants of mystical dragons. We have forged centuries of culture and despite being dispersed throughout the world, have made our mark on every continent. My mark is that of the goat. I am a part of all other Goats out there. (Find your zodiac animal.)

So, if you are a Ky Mui, this is what the website says about us:

Personality:An artist in your soul, you are gentle and peaceful, a fine aesthete who loves the touch of the noblest materials under his feet. Work bores you, and idleness you adore! Your ideal: to have someone take care of you. You dream of living under the protection of a prodigal patron who would let your creative talents bloom with no material constraints. You love working with your hands when it concerns art but hate anything to do with work associated with daily life around the house. You are looking for the right person to take care of you, make decisions for you, flatter you and take you to a silky, green field every day. The imaginary universe that you live in is very far from reality where "everything is but luxury, beauty, calm and voluptuousness...". When you come back to earth, you fall into a dark pessimism, are very stubborn, capricious and can pout. Your over sensitivity is only matched by your sluggishness. When conflicts arise you take cover until the storm has passed; you never even think of ramming your adversary with your horns. You usually win your fights because your perseverance and your natural charm are endearing. Your fault: You are an easy mark for wolves.

Work: You excel in creative, artistic fields and in anything to do with the theater or putting on a show. You have a purely conceptual mind that likes to be surrounded by realistic collaborators who will take care of the books and the commercial side of things because management isn't your field of predilection. You want neither power nor honors. You are at ease in the thick of things, far from the decision-makers. You work in a bubble with an excessive desire for perfection.

Money: You will gladly spend the money of others! You know how to surround yourself with benefactors who believe in your talent and know how to show it. You don't run after money and are capable of paying four times too much for an object without batting an eye. You have holes in your pocket and you are terrible at managing your money. Who cares! You live in a universe where good taste rules, either because you have money or are resourceful. You could transform any stable into a palace from the Arabian Nights!

Love: Anxious and dependent, you can't live without love. You need a companion that can protect you, is tender and will shower you with attention. Fights at home and raised voices make you extremely anxious. An ideal love, you are faithful and happy in an atmosphere of calm and security. To seduce you, your partner must be romantic and gallant, and invite you out to cultural events. Above all, they should never give you an ultimatum or look as though they want to leave you. In this case, you will be the first to leave the prairie!

You will be happy to know, my friends, that we Goats are compatible with Cats, Horses, and Pigs, and very incompatible with Buffalos. Please also note that we are "easy mark for wolves." Beware of wolves.

An Tat Nien

Hoa dao is in bloom, which means that Tet is right around the corner. In fact, it is exactly one week from today. Feb. 18th is a good day, an auspicious day. It is a day filled with red colors and li xi and food and lights and celebrations. BaMe has promised rang se goi qua CA banh chung va banh tet! Yumm! BoMe da goi bang tay tai nha, va se goi bang UPS nam nay co the nem mui banh chung banh tet tu tay BaMe lam.



This coming week is the last week of the lunar calendar, a time of festivities to end the year ("tat nien"), which requires that we "an Tet" (literally meaning "eat Tet"). Yet, the house has not been painted, and I do not have any kumquat trees in the corners. Cung khong co mai hoac dao. Khong son cua nha. Khong chung bay "cau dua du soai." Co le vi biet rang nam nay minh kg can thiet nhung mon gi het, vi da co day du lam roi. (Khong biet khi nao goi qua se den. Mong rang se co bao li xi!!) Though our Christian background has shooed away all remnants of our observing the Kitchen God's departure from our home, I am sad that I forgot that he was supposed to travel to see the Jade Emperor to report on the comings-and-goings of our petite household. A ma maison, I have much to tell, and I'm sure he's written a very lengthy scroll to report.

This year, I also decided not to viet so Tao Quan. Viet thi vui thiet, nhung cong viec cung hoi lu bu nen nam nay Ong Tao phai tu viet so de trinh len, chu minh se kg viet dau. Hehe... Tai sao cang ngay cang quen mat nhung customs cua nhung ngay xua? Buon ghe...

Nam ngoai, minh da an Tet tai Saigon, khong khi nhon nhip. Dem Giao Thua thi co phao hoa, va moi nguoi deu an mung. Nam nay, cung nhu nam 2004, Tet troi qua im lang va than nhien nhu kg co gi dac biet, ngay nao cung nhu ngay nao...

Inconviencing the truth

Last night, I saw An Inconvenient Truth for the second time, and was astounded once more by the ridiculous stances maintained by some of our political leaders. Do they still think that global warming is a hoax hatched by the political progressives in order to win over the public?

It really isn't a political issue at all. It is a global problem. I am slightly perturbed, of course, that I will probably die by drowning given that I live in the Bay Area. Albeit a bit slower compared to folks who live immediately on the coastline -- I can at least run up to Holy Hill. Once the water levels rise because of the desalinization of our oceans, I'm done for. The little polar bears that live in the Arctic Oceans are dying because ice glaciers are melting, minimizing their habitat spaces and forcing them to swim longer distances. If they are having to swim for survival, and die b/c of exhaustion, what does that mean for humans?

But not all is lost. A few days ago, I heard on the news that a high school in Redwood City has officially gone solar. They've spent several million to install solar panels on all their buildings in the effort of saving energy and going "green." The entire school took on the project with enthusiasm and full support of the student body, staff, and administration. Their first electricity bill was something like six dollars. Many other schools are joining the effort, in recognition of the earth's declining natural resources. It will take a long while before all our schools are solar, but we're becoming more and more informed and involved.

Have you recycled today? Have you stopped purchasing styrofoam cups? Have you replaced your light bulbs for those more energy-efficient swirly ones? Have you seen the polar bears?