Word of Introduction

"Khang oi, keep a blog so that the folks at home can see what how your trip is going!" A simple enough request: take the time every night to write about your day so that others can see how your trip is progressing. I have always found any form of personal reflection to be strangely appeasing, as if writing down my problems made them real, made them solvable. However, I have also always found that any form of personal reflection is tedious, demanding hours of my time and immeasurable amounts of my energy. In the end, I simply decided that reflection is best done in the mind. However, I suppose that had I the time, I would not object too heavily to keeping a journal. Doing so would allow me to look back on my thoughts in the future and provide some interesting insight into my young adult life. In contrast, blogging has always been a frightening concept and has never appealed to me. The two forms of reflection, one being written in ink and the other composed of bits and bytes, are not that different. However, blogging has been significantly more troublesome for me to accept; after all, if my personal thoughts are just that, then to have them put up on the Internet for all to see defeats their entire purpose. If everyone is able to read my personal thoughts, they are no longer personal. Countless strangers would have access to my innermost feelings and my personal thoughts. My mind would become an attraction for all to see, and admission would be absolutely free. Refusing to be subject to that kind of objectification, I rejected blogging from my life once and for all.

Or so I had thought. My mother changed my perspective of blogs, and she had done it through a simple request. "Khang oi, write a blog so that the folks at home can see what how your trip is going!" To the untrained eye, there is nothing significantly special about this request. However, to one who has experienced the love of a family firsthand, this sentence oozes meaning out of every spoken syllable. The part of the sentence that drew my attention the most was second word: oi. In Vietnamese, "oi" is a term of endearment, of love. She had not said the word with any particular emphasis. It just hit me at the right place and the right time. Her "oi" reminded me what I was doing, where I was going. Her "oi" reflected her own personal sadness at my departure, as well as her hope that I would return wiser and stronger than when I had left. The sheer power of the word seeped into my being, and when she had finished her request, I agreed to do it.

To you readers, it might seem like there are gaps in my logic. Why on earth would I agree to spill my thoughts onto the Internet? After all, I spent so long detesting the very idea of blogs and all that they stood for. What happened is actually very simple: my fear, my insecurities, and my doubts were all eliminated by love. In actuality, my fear of blogging could have been reflective of my fear of the trip itself. I am a Vietnamese-American returning home to the country of my parents. Like blogging, my personal insecurities regarding my trip were all centered around a fear of judgment, of rejection. I now realize, however, that these fears are trivial and unrealistic. My mother reminded me of the one thing that could pull me through no matter how difficult the situation: love. I take the love of my friends and family back home with me to Vietnam. On my trip, it is my duty to pass that love onto those who need it most. Of course, it will be rejected by some, but so long as one person I help can experience a fraction of the love I receive everyday, it will be worth it. Any adversity I face will undeniably be destroyed by the love that I carry within me. I am not afraid now, because in a sense, all those reading my blog journey to Vietnam with me. You all are present in the orphanages I am at, the streets I walk, the restaurants I eat in, and the homes I enter. You all will give me the strength I need, the love I need to make my trip worthwhile. It is only fair then that I write about my day so that everyone can see how your love has affected the world. When cast in this light, I can happily accept the task of blogging; it is a small price to pay for all that those who will read it have done for me. Of course, I am still apprehensive of both my trip and my blog, but that fear disappears when I remember the love that I have with me wherever I go. And so, with my daily revelations complete, I look forward both to spreading the love of my friends and family to those in Vietnam as well as taking the time to tell you all about it.

I hope you enjoy reading my blog and charting my journey, and look forward to reading your comments. As shown above, the power of even a simple word is immeasurable. Send me some love!

Khang