Nhớ Nguồn

What with the conservative culture here, these kinds of things don't make an appearance too often.

1. The English language is really  complex. Let's start by saying that command over the use of the language does not confer understanding of why you use it the way you do. The English language, in all its arbitrary rules, made up words, and seemingly random intonation is certainly no exception to this. This is exactly what I imagine my 3-4 year olds see my classroom as. Take, for example, the simple, three-letter word, "too." Could you, off the top of your head, accurately concisely explain that word? Could you do it in the kind of language that a foreign national would understand? Can you even think about all the meanings that "too" encapsulates? Look the word up in the dictionary. You'll find a suitable definition, but it too is probably incomplete by leaving out an explanation of how I used "too" in this very sentence. For this you would probably have to spend a few minutes searching for the answer, but therein lies the rub. The...

One of my earliest memories starts with me sobbing. I refused to be soothed no matter what Mom and Dad tried. Dad gave up and left the bedroom, but Mom took me into the kitchen and sat me down at the breakfast table. "Kan, kan," she said, as she pulled a sheet of wrapping paper from on top of the fridge. For years, Mom carefully sliced open the wrappings around Christmas gifts and saved them on top of the fridge in a thick stack. She set the paper down, plain side facing up, and began to fold it. I stopped crying and watched her, curious. She turned the paper over and folded it again. She pleated, packed, tucked, rolled, and twisted until the paper disappeared between her cupped hands. Then she lifted the folded-up paper packet to her mouth and blew into it, like a balloon. "Kan," she said. "Laohu." She put her hands down on the table and let go. A little paper tiger stood on the table, the size of two fists placed together. The skin of the tiger was the p...

“A human being is part of a whole, called by us the ‘Universe’ — a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts, and feelings, as something separated from the rest — a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”

It always amazes me when I think about how much Vietnamese people like their coffee. I can't even begin to fathom the number of cafes in Saigon alone. The size of some of them is also staggering. A large outdoor cafe recently opened close to where I live and it has four floors, multiple A/C rooms, multiple waterfalls, a tree house, and even a playground for the little ones. Vietnam likes its cafes on steroids. And yet, for every unnecessarily large cafe, there's small one that's stupidly cute. Those are the kind that are tucked away in the back alleys and side streets, and they truly challenge the adventuresome to even find the damn place. Those who succeed find something more than just a nice place to drink coffee. The ambiance of these little oases offer respite from the hectic pace of the city life, and every one of them is the perfect place to spend the day away with a few friends and a heartwarming drink. Secret "cove" on the left, little ...