Our brightest moment

During the weather segment, the meteorologist announces that tonight's moon is the brightest moon all year. It is the roundest, the fullest, arguably the most perfect moon out of the 365 nights of the year 2007. Even though it's only October 26th and we have November days and December days remaining in the year, we can say rather definitively that tonight's moon is the best (relative term?) of the bunch. If we hung all 365 moons in a gallery and had to rate them from best to worst, would tonight's moon win? Would it be the finest, primo? Can we already dismiss with some certainty the moon which will make its appearance on Nov. 30th? Can we already say that all other moons will pale in comparison to this night's moon?

Could we say the same for each moment in life? Could we say that this moment, when the fires in southern California are ravaging the lands and lives of Californians, could we say this is our finest, brightest moment?

Trang ram suot nam

Dem nay, trang tron nhat va dep nhat suot nam. Nghe Ong weatherman noi nhu vay, khien minh thac mac: lam sao biet duoc Ong Trang chi dep mot khoanh khac nao do trong dem nay, nhung se khong dep nhu vay ngay mai, ngay mot, hoac tuan toi? Chi dep trong chocc lat. Trang ram dem nay dep nhat, dep hon 364 ngay kia cua nam 2007. Du van con 2 thang nua nam 2007 moi het, nhung voi technology thoi nay, chung ta co the biet rang mat trang da reach the pinnacle, the utmost beauty, chinh dem nay. Sau khi full moon, theo moon phases, thi no tro thanh new moon, bat dau lai lunar cycle.

Trong cuoc doi, minh se khong biet duoc dem nay, hom nay, hoac ngay mai la giay phut tuyet hao, la perfect nhat -- minh khong co cach nao biet duoc tuong lai se ra sao. Minh chi co the mong rang ngay mai se la ram, ngay mai co full moon, ngay mai la tuyet voi, ngay mai la hoang hao...

Tron lua chay

Nguoi Viet chay tron tran lua tai nam Cali.

fire tornadoes

We are on fire here in California, and we are fighting with everything we have. The flames, the heat, the ashes, the smoke -- they fall on us in waves, surrounding us, imprinting us, and drawing out of our souls the heat, the tension, and the resilience to sift through rubble and debris and still get up again.

Half a million have been evacuated.

Thousands don't understand the language of fire, but thousands more don't understand the language of the warnings about fire.

My Grandmother the Prayer Warrior

Ngoai toi la mot nguoi chien si cau nguyen. Moi buoi sang, Ba cau nguyen duoi anh den vang vi qua som nen ngoai troi van con mo toi. Moi buoi toi, Ba cau nguyen duoi anh den vang vi den chieu toi roi nhung Ba van ngoi tham nguyen. Ngoai cau nguyen cho nhung dua con, dua chau, nhac tung den moi dua. Ngoai cau nguyen cho Hoi Thanh o khap moi noi, o khap moi vung, tu Vietnam den Atlanta den Uc Chau, den Chau Au. Ngoai cau nguyen cho cac Muc Su va gia dinh cua hoi, cho cac Giao Si va cho cac Giao Vien Than Hoc.

Loi cau nguyen cua Ngoai vua don so, vua phong phu, vua mau me, vua gian di. Ngoai nho den thoi xua, va uoc ao cho tuong lai. Ngoai cam ta DCT, va thiet tha cau xin Thuong De. Ngoai ngoi khen khon xiet, va Ngoai khoc loc than tho.

Relationship giua Ngoai va Chua la mat thiet, la dac biet, la nhu hoi tho. Tat ca tam su deu duoc Chua nghe, va doi khi nhung gi Ngoai kg noi ra cung duoc dang len mot cach thanh that.

Ngoai la mot guong sang lang cho nhung nguoi con chau o xa, o gan.

Bay gio, cac con chau cau nguyen cho Ngoai, cau xin Chua gin giu ngoai, bao ve ngoai vuot qua khoi benh kidneys, de Ngoai co suc khoe tiep tuc hau viec Chua voi tung hoi tho va tung loi noi thot ra tu day long. Nguyen Chua o cung Ngoai va ban them suc cho Ngoai.

Of Childhood Memories

My first memories of school in the U.S. include:

(1) Paint by numbers. What images, what colors, I do not know. But they were there, those pages of black and white design waiting for me to fill in with colors, as if in filling them I could pour in the words and meaning in lieu of numbers and space.

(2) Painting with water. It was so easy. A brush, and color-infusing water that made the pages blush into pastels of blue, red, yellow, green. Painting outside the lines with clear water was different than speaking outside the boundaries in a foreign tongue. Each brush stroke was ten times easier than one syllable of sound.

(3) Paper money. A perfect quiz or a completed homework assignment earned paper dollars, and wads of currency were distributed like free consonants in the English alphabet. Eventually, for a bit of paint by numbers, or a sheet of stickers, I siphoned my treasure back into the vaults of the ESL instructor but my sister hoarded them like collecting vocabularies.

Of childhood memories

She spoke with a heavy American accent, the words swallowed in the back of her throat. The tones were even and uninteresting, as if someone had spliced away all the dipthongs and diacritics to create an auditory flatline. Whatever musicality inherent in the tonal Vietnamese language was gone. She didn't know the various pronouns for "I" or "you" and her English words were poor substitutions.

I was following my mother's cousin to school. She had been born in the U.S. to my grandfather's younger brother, and knew little about where I came from, other than that it was the country of her parents. I remember walking through the school grounds trailing behind her words trying to decipher her meaning as we weaved through the outdoor hallways. She talked the entire time we walked, with me not understanding a word and she uncomprehending the turmoil I could find no voice to articulate. It was spring, or perhaps a fair-weather day sometime in fall, and though there was no rain, everything felt dark and heavy as I entered the doors of the classroom.

Currently Reading

A fool brings the queen an asp;
Another leaves the king
when he's most needed - right
in the middle of the play.

I think a fool is in the doorway
of my life, neither bringing
anything just yet nor going off;
He's there, though, and watching.

It's so quiet I can hear him breathe.
We're not on stage, but I know
that I'm upstaged - and
it's so quiet I can hear him breathe.

- "Not Will Kempe", by John Matthias, Kedging

Things I've thought about in the last week

(1) We veto the SCHIP -- too much money for the war, not enough money on children
(2) We can't find enough votes to override the veto -- too much politicking, not enough solidarity
(3) We turn a blind eye to the Armenian genocide because we want to use Turkey air space in our war in Iraq, using the excuse that we need to support our troops (our troops should be going home, not stuck in a foreign country, depending on foreign air space / fly zones) -- too much forgetfulness, disregard for mistakes of the past
(4) We can't pass the Jubilee Act -- too much focus on ourselves and so little on the world situation
(5) How do we be proactive Xns in a world so filled with complexities?

2012, toi se (a list for the future):

Tro lai di hoc chuong trinh tien si (PH.D.)
Di Au Chau
Ve VN tham
Mua mot laptop/notebook moi
Hoc nhay dam gioi hon
Luyen tieng Phap sieu hon
Viet xong manuscript tho (cua chuyen fulbright 2004-2005)
Mong doi nhieu hon
Lon tuoi hon, nhung tre trung lai
Kiem cong viec moi
Lam xong art project / installation voi abby
Doc them it nhat 50 quyen sach (tho hoac tieu thuyet)-- moi nam 10 cuon
Gap duoc Tinh Yeu
Yeu nhieu hon, va khoc cung nhieu
Trai nhieu kinh nghiem buon, vui

Your Worship by Val Vinokur

- Val Vinokur is an assistant professor of comparative literature at The New School. His poems have appeared in The Massachusetts Review and New American Writing.

I am your pilgrim, who wanders
to stay home; your monk,
who keeps silent when you demand
confessions and theology.

You are too difficult to love
directly; you have no roof
or floor, and I am too pious
for your rain and mud.

So I keep your shrine, the best of you,
the clean, the smiling rest of you.

I am a stubborn priest, who knows himself
only in the dwindling oil of you,
the weeping and rebellious flame
about to die.

Tat den!

Bat dau tu ngay 15 thang 10 den cuoi thang, ca nuoc My dang chu y den environmental va global issues (ah, tieng Viet thi catch phrase nay minh goi la gi, nhi?). O khap moi noi, co nhung members (thanh vien?) cua ONE.org va nhung nhom khac nhu la environmental bloggers va youtube.com members, v.v., keu goi tat ca chung dan chung phai len tieng va hand dong de create world change.

Co nhom thi thau nhung video tren YouTube de truyen tinh ve qua cau dang bi huy diet boi oil drilling. Co nhom dang keu goi members phai viet blogpost ve nhung de tai quan trong nhu la conserving energy va conserving nuoc. Co nhom yeu cau chung ta phai goi dien thoai va goi email cho nhung nguoi Senators (Thuong Nghi Sy?) va House Representatives, khuyen khich ho phai co-sponsor nhung bills nhu la Jubilee Act (de khuyen khich debt cancellation, cho nhung nuoc ngheo nhu Haiti co the dung budget de improve health care thay vi phai tra tien debt). Co mot nhom o ben San Francisco yeu cau dan chung cua thanh pho tat het electricity trong vong 1 tieng dong ho (vao toi T7) de advocate su reduction cua energy. (De ung ho initiative nay, City Hall se tat het den. Bay Bridge se tat het den trong vong 1 tieng dong ho, va chi giu street lights cho tai xe thay duong ma thoi. Cung co nhieu chu nha hang va quan cafe quyet dinh su dung den cay va kg dung den dien trong vong may tieng dong ho; co mot ong chu cua nha hang Medjool o SF noi rang su dung den cay kg nhung save tieng dien, nhung cung tao ra khong khi lang man hon, va quan khach thich thu hon nhieu.)

Noi chung, o ben day co rat nhieu dieu soi noi dang xay ra de giup dan My hieu biet hon ve nhu cau quan trong nay. Voi nhung cach cu the de tham gia, lam sao minh co the dung yen, kg gop phan?!

Futalognkosaurus dukei

So, they've found my ancestor in Argentina. Perhaps my long lost brother. Actually, it's one of the largest dinosaurs recently discovered in Patagonia, Argentina. [Go here for the article from Discovery Channel.]

Apparently, it ate plants. Without blue cheese dressing, without gorgonzola and walnuts. Score 1 for Dukei. It's prettier than me, with a larger head. Score 2. Despite it's huge size, it's harmless. Score 3 for Dukei. Despite my huge size... Well, it's older than me. That's one thing. 88 million years. 1 point for HAT. Dukei wins by 2 points and 105 feet.

Where do we fit Adam and Eve into the scheme of things?

none so grateful as I

Dear HAT,

You've heard this before, many times in fact. Sitting in the pews as a parishioner, as a choir member, and as a PK, you've heard it repeated often, with varying story lines that emphasize why, exactly, you should be grateful to God.

The stories aren't new. You can recognize them from the first lines, or maybe after the first two or three pages, if the storyteller is really good. You have them memorized. You identify with many of the characters who pop in and out of these life-tales. You can write your own narratives, with illustrations, that speak to the same topic. They tell you the same:

Well, this is the theme you've known since birth, even before you were born, when you were still in the womb and MumDad brought you to church on Tran Hung Dao, so you know them already. Gentle reminders that you focus too much on your self, and that it is this self-centeredness which blinds you and binds you to ingratitude. You don't choose gratitude because you focus too much on the little black dot and never the blank, pristine white piece of paper. You focus too much on the negative in your unending analysis of life and you don't see the big picture, the grand scheme designed by the Creator God. You don't count your blessings, one by one. You just don't understand how easy it is to give thanks with a grateful heart.

This is the simple part, the part where you are reminded every Sunday morning to be grateful, to acknowledge how wonderfully you are made and how special you are to be chosen by God. You are reassured that it is very, very difficult to apply this to life, and that it is your Xn duty to ponder it every day, that is, you should choose gratitude when you eat, drink, and play.

It's no challenge (alright, you do admit, though, that choosing a posture of gratefulness is difficult), but in reality, it's not a challenge to hear because it's a variation on a theme.

But, now, at 4:00 a.m. on a Monday morning, you realize that what's been bugging you is that the stories should not be that simple. Or, they should not be that simple. You realize what's been itching in the back of your throat, crawling to get out, is that your social position and economic status as a young, educated woman in America places you in a certain position of privilege, and as such, you have the right, no, the responsibility, the expectation, to speak out and speak loudly.

Consider these life applications. How would you express gratitude if you were not a young, educated, middle-class naturalized citizen living in northern California, but a 9-year-old boy living in west Oakland whose parents have been deported back to Mexico or somewhere in South America? What if you were a 16-year-old girl in Uganda, living with HIV and having to bake bricks to build your own school house? What if you were somewhere in Darfur or Myanmar struggling to stay alive?

You give thanks for good health, not thinking that there are millions who don't have money for proper medication or even non-bacteria infested water to drink. You give thanks for warm clothing, not thinking that there are millions who work in subpar sweat shops sewing your clothes for unfair wages. You give thanks for good food, not thinking about the local farmers in countries like Vietnam and Kenya who are suffering because their businesses are being outcropped by large American agribusinesses.

Outside of your privileged socio-economic status, beyond the edges of your "me"-mirror, you might find it a bit harder to give thanks, and perhaps that's what's bugging you all this time. While you were hearing just "give thanks", you know, deep down, that the difficulty is not because you have less faith or are forgetful, but because there's so much more to life beyond your own that you have not even considered.

You can coast through life hearing the same variations on a theme, but you have the duty to listen beyond those themes to know your role in life as determined by your Creator. Giving thanks is easy to do if you focus on the white, pristine page with the single black dot. Until you see the page filled with black dots galore, and see your role in creating change, your gratefulness would mean nil.

That, my dear HAT, is worth applying to life.

full but empty

A few Sundays ago, a group of us from church went to City Team Ministries, which is a shelter in Oakland Chinatown, for our regular "gig". We usually do a quick worship service with them and then we help serve dinner. For whatever reason, we had been scheduled to cook and serve, but were not notified. They had been expecting us to bring food and cook, and we came empty-handed save for a drum set, base guitar, keyboard, and music sheets. We couldn't feed them anything except the music that our band played, and I have to admit, that week's line-up was not our most exceptional.

The folks who work at the shelter had to dig in their freezer and bring out hot dogs and white sandwich bread. No dessert or fruit or salad or juice, but a big of chips and ice tea. The hot dogs didn't even have proper hot dog buns, no ketchup, no mustard, no relish. They each received two hot dogs, two slices of sandwich bread, and a bag of chips, and a cup of iced tea. It was the poorest meal, and yet the richest. It was the saddest meal I have ever seen them partake, and yet many of them were thankful and smiling. Many were in good spirits.

Some of us could say that God was in that place and that the Holy Spirit was working to feed them. When we came emptyhanded, somehow, we found food for these men and women. Indeed, I could accept that God provided for them, but a part of me hates hearing that used as an excuse, because through some faulty system of communication, through a human mistake, we messed up, and then we dismiss it by thanking God for providing for us. I would not say that God did that just to save our hide, to cover for our mistakes. No, if we're to stay with this line of thought, I'd have to say God would have provided better than what we did.

I have never felt as terrible and as sad as I did that day, seeing them line up waiting for me to hand to them one extra hot dog as a second helping. And to have to respond that we have nothing more to give -- that was hard.

It was the most heart-wrenching experience for me to witness, knowing that
one hour before we arrived, the eight of us had been seated around a table in a nice, warm restaurant, eating an 8-dish meal family style. Seafood, meat, vegetables, soup, dessert -- nothing was lacking. We all ate our fill, and there was so much leftover. Indeed, we came filled, but I felt pretty empty.

what's holding us back?

"for their efforts to build up and disseminate greater knowledge about man-made climate change, and to lay the foundations for the measures that are needed to counteract such change"

Even the Norwegian Nobel Committee recognizes the need to pay attention to the earth. Even they recognize the importance of protecting and preserving our globe, knowing that ecological and environmental changes ultimately has social, political, and economic impacts on developed and developing nations. If it takes someone like Al Gore receiving the Nobel Peace Prize to wake up our nation, then so be it. All the more reason for us to do our part.

Read the entire press release here.

"By awarding the Nobel Peace Prize for 2007 to the IPCC and Al Gore, the Norwegian Nobel Committee is seeking to contribute to a sharper focus on the processes and decisions that appear to be necessary to protect the world’s future climate, and thereby to reduce the threat to the security of mankind. Action is necessary now, before climate change moves beyond man’s control."

Lunch poems: Crunching words

For lunch hour today, I went with a friend to a reading by John Matthias at UCB's Lunch Poems series. It still takes my breath away to be in the presence of great writers like Robert Hass (who gave the introduction) and John Matthias (who stole my breath away with all his clunking, eliding, grinding, swishing, consonants and vowels). Listening to them, I can't help but feel humbled, knowing that they are these great icons who will never know that I existed. My breath hitches, just a little, when Robert Hass stands nearby, and when Matthias signs my copy of his new book (Kedging: New Poems).

For Hoanganh, With all possible best wishes, from John Matthias

Their language, their poetry, their lives -- all that makes me feel so humbled. Inspired. As if I too could do that one day with language, with words. That I too could get some great audience to listen attentively (sleepily?) to my voice rolling out those consonants and vowels, those dipthongs and those diacritics. It feels good. It sounds great, and I want to sleep with the sound of the poems going on and on in my ear.

He mentions Transtromer, and I remember that Mark Cox used to talk to us reverently, and irreverently, about Transtromer, telling us we need to read him. Listen to his words, pick up his language. Listen to how he weaves and breaks and tortures words and then puts them back together again. Listen to how the bits of history and narrative and wordplay are being co-mingled together. That's how you do it. That's how to make mellifluous lines into real lines -- verses that have weight and which you can't just fling out into the audience, but words that the audience has to grab hold of with all their power. Those are words with tentacles and they hook into you and you fall, and falling put your whole body and soul into it, willingly. Those are the words. Kedging. I love the sound.

Tsunami: The Animals

Not very many animals died. The human beings, sucked
out of their windows, plucked from one another's arms, may
have heard the trumpeting of elephants, may have seen
flamingos group and leave for inland forests, boars and
monkeys heading for a higher ground. Do even fish that
swim in grand aquariums of restaurants where we eat
the flesh and organs of clairvoyants on some 87th floor
detect the tremor we don't feel until we crash through
ceilings in a fall of rubble upside down, a fork impaled
in an eye? Are the creatures then an ark? Noah, no one knows.
Does the trunk laid flat upon the earth before a trumpeting
begins detect an earthquake or tsunami in the human heart
as well as movement of tectonic plates, approaching footsteps
of a man who'd rather be a bomb? A flood, a flash of
detonation. Caged canaries in our common mine
burst through bars in song. High in heaven's Yala,
water buffalo are shaking off the waters of the world's woe.

- from Kedging by John Matthias

What Hope Myanmar? by Chandra Muzaffar

As the protests fizzle out in the wake of the military junta’s violent crackdown, many are wondering whether there is any hope for change in Myanmar. Are the people of Myanmar condemned to eternal suffering? Is their ordeal and anguish some sort of bad karma from which there is no escape?

There is no reason for pessimism. Struggles against autocracies take a long while. When autocratic power is dressed up as a military dictatorship, the struggle becomes even more difficult.

Nonetheless, the people of Myanmar, it should not be forgotten, have, from time to time, revolted against military rule. In 1988, a popular uprising, triggered off by price increases of basic commodities and currency devaluation, was crushed mercilessly. The junta massacred some 3000 unarmed civilians. The uprising was spearheaded by students with monks playing a minor role.

Two years later when an election for delegates to a Constitutional Commission was held, the people rejected the military slate and chose instead candidates from the newly formed National League for Democracy (NLD) led by Aung San Suu Kyi, the daughter of the ‘founding father’ of the nation. Though the military refused to accept the verdict and imprisoned a number of NLD officials, it could not ignore the fact that the people were against its dominance. Since 1990 there have been other smaller, sporadic protests in different parts of the country.

The August-September 2007 mass protest against the military junta, euphemistically called the State Peace and Development Council (SPDC), is reminiscent of the 1988 uprising in one sense. It was the skyrocketing of prices caused by a huge fuel hike that ignited popular anger. It proves yet again that economic discontent is often at the root of mass revolts.

To gauge the depth of popular anger one has to understand that poverty is widespread in Myanmar. A quarter of its 56 million population live on 1 US dollar a day. Wages are meagre. Basic amenities are inadequate. And unemployment is high.

Instead of addressing the people’s miseries, the SPDC chose the path of suppression. Starting with the beating of protesting monks in Pakokku on the 5th of September, the military cracked down on peaceful demonstrators in Yangon, Mandalay and Sittwe on 26th September. Four monks and six other civilians have been killed according to the SPDC though other sources reckon that the number could be higher. More than two thousand monks and a sprinkling of activists, students and others may have been arrested.

When a detested regime attempts to suppress widespread disaffection through excessive force, one can be certain that the struggle for justice will gain strength. If that regime is also extraordinarily corrupt and self-indulgent, it is only a matter of time before it meets its demise. In the last few months, vivid accounts of how individuals in the SPDC elite have accumulated wealth and how it is lavished upon extravagant weddings and expensive holidays have been circulating in the country.

Thus, the three vital ingredients for the eventual triumph of mass movements for justice ---- widespread economic discontent; an oppressive regime; and massive elite corruption---- are present in Myanmar. Add to these, two other factors that have surfaced in the course of the August-September uprising and one will conclude that change is inevitable, sooner than later.

The readiness of the community of monks to assume leadership of the struggle has bestowed the movement for change with tremendous credibility and legitimacy. The monks are also an inspiration --- an inspiration of the Buddhist ideal of selfless sacrifice. It is partly because of their inspiring example that a lot of ordinary Myanmaris have overcome fear of the military junta. This is an essential pre-requisite for sustaining a struggle of this sort.

If anything, the effective use of some of the new communication technologies is also a boost to the struggle. The internet as an information tool has aided both the dissemination of news in an environment of heavy censorship, and the mobilization of protesters. At the same time, the recording of images of the actual struggle through digital and video cameras serves to inform, to educate and to conscienticize. This is critical in preparing for the next stage of what is a protracted struggle.

It is conceivable that in the next stage the movement will have greater depth and breadth and will be more cohesive and unified. One can expect it to embrace all major sectors of society with committed monks at the helm. What it means is that there is hope on the horizon.

But even if the next stage of the struggle does not produce the results one is hoping for, there is no reason to despair. There is an enlightened principle in Buddhism which Suu Kyi—a person of impeccable dignity and incredible integrity--- has alluded to in her writings that should guide the struggle for justice in Myanmar. She observes, “Just continue to do what you believe is right. Later on the fruits of what you do will become apparent on their own. One’s responsibility is to do the right thing”.

Dr.Chandra Muzaffar is President of the International Movement for a Just World (JUST). He was a member of the Tribunal on Burma and East Timur established by the People’s Plan 21st Century (PP21) movement in Bangkok in 1992. JUST had also published a monograph by JUST Fellow, Dr. Mikio Oishi, entitled Aung San Suu Kyi’s Struggle Its Principles and Strategy in 1997.

my abiding ignorance

By grace of my abiding ignorance, it is always new to me. I am never not instructed. - Marilynne Robinson, The Death of Adam

For there is always something new, always something to be learned, always something to be taught. For I am always a student, and am always looking for deeper studies, and deeper reasons for studying...

this art

To write about poetry is to believe that there are answers to some of the questions poets ask of their art, or at least that there are reasons for writing it. A poem about the art of poetry is not born out of a lack of subject matter but, rather, arises out of an excess that transcends the humanly possible; it arises out of the questions one cannot answer." -- Michael Wiegers, This Art: Poems About Poetry

A Treatise on Time

"Older now, a lifetime of notions diminishing behind me, I suspect there must be a whole city glittering in every moment, and instead of that moment being left behind, it must sail with us through the universe like an ocean liner stippling the darkness with the faint sounds of lost voices and forgotten orchestras, sounds which rise only a short distance and double back to wrap the ship in its individual moment--one moment in an endless armada of moments that float through the universe like incidents the universe cannot forget."

- excerpt from A Treatise on Time, Morton Marcus

What Issa Heard

Two hundred years ago Issa heard the morning birds
singing sutras to this suffering world.

I heard them too, this morning, which must mean,

since we will always have a suffering world,
we must also always have a song.

- David Budbill