Signs of Christ- Signs of Christmas

Maybe it was the styrofoam snowscape with the motorized ski lift ascending a slope outside a coffee house, or maybe it was the stars hanging from the ceiling of the chapel at Thao Dien that let me know that Christmas was here.

                                

The clues are more subtle than when the retail complex of a consumer society begins encouraging prospective purchasing to anticipate the gifting frenzy of Christmas morning. Which is not to say that the retailers here are lost in the backwash when it comes to seeking to monetize the commemoration of God's greatest gift to mankind. There are store displays and special sales, even if the phrase "Black Friday" has no resonance with anyone's psyche here. The minority Christian population in Vietnam, perhaps just under 10% has successfully crafted a place for their celebration of this event that does not emphasize the purchase of "stocking stuffers" (how many people really wear socks here anyway?)

Outside the Catholic Churches there are various visible evidences of a festival season- strings of stars leading to the one great star, usually brightly lighted high on the cathedral tower, and a grotto with near life-size figures of the key figures in the nativity nestled in rustic simplicity if not comfort, On Christmas eve, the churches will be thronged with believers participating in celebration of the mystery and majesty of "God with us." 

In our own offices and the mission home, the remembrance of that mysterious night of light is marked by this somewhat fanciful and simple nativity, a locally made reminder of the many remarkable creches we love to see displayed at this time of year.

       

The sounds at this season change a little bit as well. As I circled the park path early this past week, the aerobics group were drilling their beat to a different tune, "Jingle bells, five six seven, Jingle bells, and ten now!" Everyone was shaped to the season. Mobile music sellers, with stacks of CDs on their carts also featured seasonal takes on many western holiday favorites by various artists, whether modeling the style of Como or Spears. We're not sure the MoTab has any imitators here however, though the Hanoi Branch Choir may challenge that next Sunday. The Messiah performance we heard a few weeks back featured a conglomerate choir from several groups, and as MB has pointed out from the names on the program was remarkably cosmopolitan.

                                   

Many seemed to sing as though they knew Him of whom those prophetic testaments witness, though I was disappointed the soloists seemed often more interested in drawing attention to their talent rather than his Gift. Style can defeat the intent at times.

When we welcomed guests from Hong Kong recently to the nearby hotel, the lobby did not quite feature "carols being sung by a choir" nor folks dressed like Eskimos, but this charming musician did her best to render something suited to the gingerbread decor and lighted tree nearby.

                                    

                                    

(NOT plastic, though the texture not that different!)    

The smells of star anise and cinnamon in beef broth that forms the basis for the best phở is not hard to find, but it doesn't quite have the primal memory links to sweet childhood Christmas baking scents that I grew up knowing. And the only balsam fir cachet one could find here would have to come from an aerosol found in a western market. But the sweet roses that graced the podium last weekend for our district conference, and the small sweet citrus "trai quet" (clementine-like) together with an occasional gardenia on the bushes outside have been enough. 

I found some imported mejool dates in the market and decided to give them to one of our friends. In doing so I thought of how they were symbolic of the Savior who offers us through his redemptive power, the fruit of the Tree of Life. Though not white like the fruit Lehi saw, their sweetness reminds me of the savor in the fruits of repentance, which is sweet above all that is sweet. We see that reflected in the joyfulness of those who accept his message, drink fully of the sacramental covenants and themselves aquire a brightness of light and hope that is remarkable. We anticipate that the "whiteness" in our Christmas will be best expressed in the cleanliness of newly born lives, purified souls and joyful missionary messengers. These will indeed know the tidings of great joy that are to all people.

      

Vietnam produces some quite delightful large yellow raisins. I chose these to give to another young friend, Z, who was celebrating his second Christmas as a member. These too seemed to have a likeness, perhaps more obvious as we consider Christ's words about being the True Vine. We as branches abiding in him can bear fruit also, laying up in store that we perish not. As I interviewed a family preparing to attend the temple and be sealed together as the youngest child enters the Manila MtC next month, I was moved by their story of travels in several nearby countries until they encountered and recognized the gospel almost 10 years ago. They will become more firmly engrafted into the True Vine as they make those covenants and hear the attendant promises. From there, the purifying and exalting vigor of the vine will further permeate thier family, spreading further along the branches to bless and unify. And too, the labors of their missionary son will repeat the process for others he will meet and teach over the coming two years. In being endowed with these blessings of the House of the Lord, they will be, like those golden raisins, preserved and protected, "laid up in store that they perish not" and bring salvation to their souls.

Another seasonal sign that is sweet to every ballet company across the world, is the much beloved story of Clara and her Christmas gift, the Nutcracker. The Hanoi Opera House provided a stellar performance to a large audience earlier this month. Seeing the ballet performed without a single child-dancer on stage was a new experience, but that didn't limit the child-like dreams of dancing flowers, sugar plums (although that is an incredibly hard term to translate!) and whirling Cossacks. I don't think P.I.Tchaikovsky had any Christ-evoking motif in mind with the composition, but if one has eyes to see (and perhaps an imagination to stretch) the Nutcracker does play into some possibilities- the Gift, the Vanquishing Savior, the Constant Comfort and Companion, etc. Perhaps it is fitting then that thousands of replicas are sold each season to young girls and boys who attend with their parents who may not think twice about any meaning beyond that of a memorable souvenir or toy.

       

We will welcome the visit of Fantastic Felix and his doting parents later this week. We think they will share with us in this season of miracles more reasons to rejoice and be glad. There is magic ahead in watching him and seeing our own Christmas Child (Elizabeth his mother) and her husband KC remind us of the wonderful plan we are part of, the Plan of Happiness.  

       

The Lotus and Christmas- a sacrament

                                  

Lotus is not something that grows in Oklahoma, or Maine, or Utah, nor I think California, as far as I can recall. But it does well here. It's a water-plant, nelumbo nucifera, a rhizome, that likes its feet in the mud, but pokes its leaves above the water, and in due time produces a tight flower bud a little more rounded than a large Hershey Kiss, but with a sharp apex. when it matures, it explodes into a marvelous pink blossom, that stands erect on the end of a long single stem above the water. After a further length of time, the petals disappear to be replaced by a green seed pod with about 30-50 operculae which house the lotus seeds.

                                 

I'm not an expert on it's cultivation by any means, but by virtue of the fact that one can see fields of them growing in various places, in areas that might otherwise be devoted to rice or other crops, I think it is safe to assume it has economic value.

                                 

The leaves one finds being used in rather famous dishes asa a wrap for rice in various combinations to add romance and flavor. The flowers of course can be harvested for bouquets, particularly popular as an ancestral offering or reverence and dignity.

       

The roots can be used as a vegetable similar to parsnip or jicama to add texture and substance, but they are most notable for their distinct architecture of fenestrations when cut appropriately.

Nutritionally the root has some pretty good advantages to sustain life and promote health. You can read about it elsewhere if you'd like, but suffice for me to say, it can be a staple. And the seeds! These are also widely used in many ways, as a condiment before dinner, or in a variety of desserts or treats. A most notable one places a single seed inside a lychee and serves them in a sweet syrup chilled, the perfect flavor for a summer day, or a Christmas treat. 

I don't expect that you'll be dashing out to find the recipes for lotus root stew, com la sen (lotus leave rice) or che hat sen (lotus seed sweet soup), as the ingredients may not be widely available away from south and east Asia, but the symbolism of a plant that so marvelously both sustains life, entices and treats the eye with its floral beauty, adds flavor and spice to others, and can complete and satisfy with sweetness seems to me to epitomize my view of the role of the Savior Jesus Christ and his message. He sustains my life, adds flavor and meaning to all I can do, enriches my appreciation for all that is virtuous and lovely, and brings sweet satisfaction at the conclusion of each repast. So here is my Christmas offering to you, the Lotus Carol, with our love and our affirmation of his birth, life and sacrifice to sustain us all.

                             

                      

Taking time for music

One of the perks of this mission is that we are supposed to take some time with just each other on occasion. That it is on the list of things we are supposed to do is probably a good idea, because otherwise the non-stop nature of this calling would make us tend to forget to do it.

Often this life we are living reminds me of a sentence written by Douglas Adams: "I love deadlines.  I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by."  (Salmon of Doubt)   There are some days that are on the more sedate side, but there is always the constant awareness of the latest set of speedily approaching days and dates that we need to make preparations for.

Anyway....So, in accordance with the directive received, and clued in by the Van Wagenens who heard about it first, we attended a concert at the Hanoi Opera House this week.

And after rescuing a French tourist from being bilked by an insistent scalper trying to foist an invitation to a reception off as a ticket to the concert, with the aid of her cohort posing as a helpful citizen, (note: always just buy a ticket at the ticket office, no matter what country you are in or how great a deal the scalper ticket is, okay?) we were treated to a selection of pieces from Handel's Messiah played by the Vietnam Vietnam Opera Ballet (VNOB) Symphony Orchestra and a combined choir of four vocal groups: the VNOB Choir, the Hanoi Voices Choir, the Hanoi Freude Choir, and the Xuan Voce Choir.  The VNOB Choir and the soloists were all Vietnamese. two of the choirs were made up of Japanese citizens and the fourth had people from all different nationalities.  It made for some great names in the choir sections.  For examples, the bass section, which had a tremendous sound and some remarkable articulation, included Phan Manh Duc, Andrew Holt, Ishidaira Hiroshi, Gerard Gasquet, Hans Wormgoor, To Minh Hai, Jan Van huis, Yoshida Kento and (great name for a bass) Johannes Bellow, among others.

The first half of the concert was Messiah selections.  I was actually moved to tears by the beauty of their rendition of  "And the Glory of the Lord".  The second half of the concert was actually a modern dance performance by the ballet company, with recorded music.  We wandered around our third floor balcony during the intermission and could see, below us, that the foyer of the concert hall was full of departing instrumentalists and singers.  One of the Japanese choirs gathered on the stairs before they left and sang Silent Night to the patrons in the foyer. I took too long fumbling with my camera to catch the first verse in Japanese, but I did catch the second verse (which was also the first verse) in English.

May your Christmas season start with lovely, freely given, Christmas music too.

Francophiles out here?

The French have been here. And the influence lingers. I think I’ve commented before about  the presence of significant French heritage here, in the architectural gems like the Hanoi and HCM Opera Houses, the Post Office, and other masterpieces of French design. There is even a bridge designed by the firm to which Henri Eiffel belonged and that is reminiscent of the tower by his name in Paris. The Vietnamese love these reminders of their French connection. They have their baguettes, the beret (though these are much  less common now than Yankee’s caps) and their impressionists who continue to turn our delightful scenes from the local streets, flora and so forth. 

         

                                 

        

  

   

But this past week we discovered that this  love for the French extends to music as well. It was the  60^thanniversary of the music conservatory in Hanoi, and they had invited a noted French conductor to direct the celebratory concert, which featured, can you guess? Choral and orchestral works by Faure, Charbrier, Messaien, and Beethoven. I’m looking back now and saying how did Debussey and Ravel not make the cut here? Poulenc I could understand. But that “slight” aside, the music was a delight, particularly the Faure which could as easily come from a recording we acquired a while back with Rutter conducting. And the Beethoven Festival for Chorus and Orchestra was a much more grand celebration than “La Mer” or Bolero would have been, even if they had managed to add in pieces for choir. 

         

                                       

    

The female voices in the choir were delightfully gowned in “traditional” ao dai, with a more modern palette of color options, and their performance along with the Hanoi symphony was superb. Our seats directly above the stage were not ideal for views, but the sound, which is what we came for, measured up wonderfully. And then afterwards, we went back to “little Seoul” to our  apartment in this increasingly cosmopolitan city to enjoy an eclair.

So what can we draw from this? How does this evening on our date teach us or testify of Christ?

What one culture adopts from another may be an interesting anthropological puzzle to some, but in a greater sense, the individual culture (or in today's terms, the operational software) of a family, community or nation will only excel eternally to the degree that they adopt the cultural traits of a Christ-centered people, of individuals devoted to seeking the interest of their neighbor, rejoicing not in evil but in goodness, returning good for ill, repenting and seeking to have wrongs corrected, and the ill-will therefrom supplanted by wholeness and wholesomeness. What will really matter for us after we leave Vietnam is whether those we have met are indeed more like Him, and of course, whether we also have had his image engraved more completely in our countenance, his feelings and affection for mankind nearly similar to ours, our willingness to do all for others just as he did. That is the culture I want in my life and family. That is the software I hope will govern my responses to others, the legacy that I hope to leave to my grandchildren.

Facades and Fancies

  

                                  

Home security is a concern for most people here, though it seems the property crime rate is low generally. But trust is  low as well, so the best measures to provide security are taken to protect residences, vehicles and such. Virtually every business or property of any size has a security service person posted out front, or guarding the gate and teh parked vehicles. I'm not sure what the going rate is for this occupation, the duties for which also seem to include general helpfulness, sweeping off the walk in front, and assisting with minor repairs. Mostly I think that is to ward off the boredom which otherwise plagues them, smartphones and social tea-drinking arrangements notwithstanding.

                                  

But I really like to see the sense of style and design that come into play as people consider their face to the street, and their security together. As I walked about one of teh Ho Chi Minh neighborhoods of late, I came across some of these pictured gates doing more than just bidding intruders without the keys to be gone.

                                  

There is more than just utility here- there is a coherence with the intended style of the house, and probably the personality of the owner, or at least the original owner, bringing together traces of classical thought, modernism, or perhaps mathematical thinking and style. It sort of reminded me of walking about Tallinn a few years back and seeing a similar array of unique doors though the old town area there, each with some story to tell about their creator, and their current caretaker.

                                  

                                  

   

There are also some who have taken the walls in front of their home to a similar stylistic level. I liked this "green wall" both for its ecological content, but also for the merging of natural colors with the otherwise geometric design of the wall. Similar floral walls appear around holidays around town with the contrasting colors proclaiming the virtues of the season or the hero being acclaimed.

       

These issues in the physical surroundings are not without their spiritual likenesses. Is my perimeter defended with razor wire that is rusted and menacing, or with something to intrigue the mind, delight the eye, or assuage other senses? In facing the world am I sufficiently assertive in repulsing those who would harm my home or my being without being abhorrent to others who pass by, indeed to the point of perhaps even being enticing to those influences that are goodm, wholesome virtuous or praiseworthy? Am I prone to be ostentatious as I face out to the world, or am I willing to meet them in humility, yet warmth and beauty, perhaps even elegance of spirit? These balances are hard to strike, yet are worth considering, not because we care more of what the world thinks of us, but because of what kind of influence we wish to have on the world. I think some of these gates and barriers begin to strike that balance, as I hope I do.

       

When I think of the young elders and sisters who serve here with us, I see that they too seek to strike that right balance of righteousness that will not be despoiled, along with a meek beauty of spirit and love that invites all to come and learn of their message of Jesus Christ. When gathered together they are a mighty force of strength,m even imposing. But as just two young boys, or young women, they are true to the scriptural description as the "weak and simple" things of the earth. Yet they carry the most powerful message one can imagine.

        

 
We met this week with some of them and heard them speak of faith to work miracles in the lives of those they love, through the power of the atonement of Jesus Christ whom they serve. But even more tangibly, we see that their own process of growth, of change, of repentance and conversion unto him. They come with an inkling of his love and mercy, and they soon come to speak powerfully and personally of his grace and unceasing love, despite our weaknesses and infirmities. As we watch the season change here generally and in individual lives specifically, from one of gloom and darkness, with only an occasional flash of light here and there, to a bright day of hope, indeed a season of miracles, we are grateful for the light and shining sword that marks the way back to the Tree of Life, not there to repulse so much the unworthy, as to invite and cut aside the dross from all who seek to partake of the sweet fruits of repentance and the wholeness of the atonement.

                                  

The ripening harvest and the grey roads turn brown-green

The ripening harvest and the grey roads turn brown-green

      

   

In the northern part of Vietnam, the harvest cycle is much more seasonal than in the south, where some areas may have three harvests per year, so there is always or almost always some harvest related duties going on. But in the north, with a more temperate climate, and particularly in the mountainous regions of terraced fields, a late summer harvest season prompts some degree of seasonal thinking, even if it may be followed by a fall planting for a spring harvest as well. For someone who lived further north in the short season of New England, it is really quite a paradigm shift to think less in terms of seasonal harvest and more in terms of the "region" or field of harvest. This change is related to the sequence of planting much more than the season sometimes, and that sequence can be rather drawn out, in part because the rather labor intense nature of both planting and harvest in a rice-based agriculture is so distinct from the mass-production, mechanized scale of North American wheat, corn and soybean harvest. Even that of course is "regionalized" as the combines begin rolling in one area and proceed progressively Northward as the harvest season progresses. 

                               

In our travels recently we saw some of the staggering of the harvest in the provinces north of Hanoi, Thai Nguyen, Bac Giang and Bac Ninh. The grain turns yellow, though the remainder of the plant may maintain its bright green appearance, giving the field a distinctive appearance as you survey the fields. We did see some fields being mechanically harvested using a Kubota thresher just a bit bigger than a small Bobcat-style tractor. In contrast to a wheat harvester which might run 16-20 feet wide, this was at most perhaps 8, allowing it to navigate the narrow paths to the fields without being so heavy as to get stuck. In other places, a fixed thresher would shake or strip the paddy rice from the stalks, allowing the rice straw to be separated (and of course diverted to other uses- animal feed, etc.) Sometimes the sheaves are bound into small cords for drying, or at others, they straw may just be strewn along the roadway itself to dry, whether or not traffic passes over it. 

The paddy rice also needs drying, and sometimes this also happens along the road, but more often now, cleaner and smoother drying floors are included in the design of homes to allow for this kind of function. Finally when dry, it will be bagged for storage, or further milling into cleaned and polished rice for consumption. I say "rice" knowing that like snow in the artic, each stage and type has a different name important for communication locally, but beyond the ken of a different culture.

                            

Our travel took us along some pretty "grey" roads. The paved ones were pot-holed from heavier traffic before us and the wear of rain and sun and tires. Many were single roads we strained to squeeze through if any approaching traffice came along. Others seemed little more than narrow alleys designed for scooters, not for our little sedan. But Elder T's father seemed confident to guide us along, even when my faith that there could possibly be anyplace at the end of the road to park much less turn around, was wavering. 

We love Elder T, now serving in Cambodia, and this was the first time we had met his kind parents. It was easy to see the genetics of his personality and work habits drew from a rich pool of that tradition at home. 

                           

      

We also had the chance to hear the story of Sister P, and meet her two children, after another similar faith-challenging foray into the narrow paths of her small village. We marveled at the coincidence of it. Here she was a young woman from a southern province, married and living in a remote northern province close to her husband's family, who had somehow encountered LDS missionaries while on a short stay in Japan for training by a clothing manufacturer. Despite her weak Japanese, non-existent English, and their lack of Vietnamese, the two American sister missionaries hada been able to teach her enough of the gospel of Jesus Christ that she had the faith to be baptized and continue faithful after returning to Vietnam. We look forward to having her as part of the "virtual branch" we expect to begin meeting with finally in October. Fortunately phone service is good most everywhere we go.

In the gospel sense, the harvest has been a little spotty so far, but we have a great sense that the grain is ripening, and we will soon be begging for more harvesters, more threshing floors, more storage graineries. But certainly these first fruits, scattered as they may be, give us a great hope for what is coming in sweetness and savor. 

Clouds and Squats

There are a many things that I always appreciate here.  Here are two of them.

One is the swirl of water vapor in the cabin of airplanes.  We fly to Ho Chi Minh monthly, so we have logged a lot of flying miles.  And usually, as the plane begins to taxi to the runway, the vents are opened to start air circulating in the cabin, and the humid air from outside comes swirling into the cooler cabin and we suddenly have lovely twirling clouds inside the plane.  I enjoy watching the patterns they create in the air.  Science is a lovely thing.

Another thing I appreciate is the flexibility and power demonstrate in the Asian squat.  Here is a photo of a man, who with his young teenage son, was working at his car and motorbike washing station.

Note the amazing flexibility demonstrated by the angle of his ankle joint. That looks like a 90 degree angle to me with the heel firmly on the ground .  That means wonderfully flexible hamstrings.  He subsequently made that angle even smaller when he leaned forward, putting his shoulders forward of his knees. His thighs rest against  his calves while his torso is vertical.  That means wonderfully flexible hip joints. Wow.  You try it.

And people go from this position to standing up in one smooth movement, totally powered by leg muscles.  That's amazing leg strength.

I am always impressed by that flexibility and strength that seems so every-day to them.

The virtuous and lovely

       

These are the things we seek for, the noble qualities, the goodness, the true and beautiful, in both people and places, ideas and causes. We found much of that as we gathered with the 11 mission presidents and their wives in Hong Kong this past week. 

                                  

     

In this it is the small things that seem to stand out as memorable. A pair of scissors can tell part of this story. The nail scissors in MB's carry-on were claimed by the most thorough flight safety screeners in Hanoi, prompting remorse, and a search for replacements. Our initial search was delayed at my insistence on doing an alternative task, but then thing after thing thwarted our return to the search. On Thursday evening as we went to dinner with our small group, we passed a place we thought might carry them and plotted to return following the meal. When we bumped into another member of the group who was returning from escorting the others back safely to the hotel, he asked if we had been successful. We reported that we had not been, having searched the cosmetic and nail care aisles thoroughly, but in vain. But the following day, he surprised us with a small pair of scissors suited to the task. It was a small thing, but we felt truly ministered to by another virtuous servant.

      

This was the very principle we had come to appreciate as we met with our own missionaries the prior week in a leadership council. We talked about how we could become more effective, about how we can more meaningfully invite more people to share in our efforts to find people to teach, invite them to repent, be converted and baptized. The thing that makes the most difference is ministering to their needs, loving them enough to see, feel and respond to their needs. Probably the most profound effort by many people to extend the invitation to come unto Christ is documented in the book of Third Nephi. When he first appeared to the group of several thousand people at the temple in Bountiful, they did not know who he was. But by the end of the day, they had each been able to feel and see for themselves, in a way that indeed ministered to their needs. And their response? The entire night they noised abroad that he had come and would come again the next day such that the audience was multiplied many times. Because he had ministered, in all the personal, loving, comforting, lifting and virtuous ways that means. For our missionaries seeking referrals from members or others, this paradigm was enlightening.

       

Our time in Hong Kong was the kind of spiritual refreshment we needed in many other ways as well. We were able to visit the temple and were instructed in ways that we can help our missionaries be recognizable to others as true ministers.

                                     

We had time to pause in the very beautiful Nam Lien gardens and contemplate the beauty there.

                                     

 

        

These photos can give you a sense of the balance of wood structures, water features, "venerable trees"

                                  

and rock that characterize the space. We could easily have spent several hours here in meditation, and not been mistaken for one of the nuns who live in the adjacent court. 

                                  

                                  

   

While a big portion of the planning for this seminar must have been the food, we were fed in many ways by our area presidency, Randy Funk, Sam Wong and David Evans, who each brought their own talents, experience and perspective to the challenges we were facing. We also had some time to meet the Area Seventies who joined us for dinner (interrupted by the area office missionaries frolicking through the gym (aka dining room) performing their version of the traditional Dragon Dance to drum accompaniment.                    

        

What can one say about missionaries likeing to have fun? At any age. Sitting with us was Elder Woo, whom we learned works for the Singapore company responsible for the tungsten contacts used in almost 90% of the automobile horns worldwide. In Asia, he might be easily cursed if that word gets out!

We've also been pleased to see the departure of two young missionaries leaving from our mission to serve after they have some training in the Manila training center. This is probably the most important step in building a firm foundation for the future of the church here, at least if my assessment of how that effort has impacted the church in Hong Kong, where the "bun dei yahn" elders and sisters I served with and thereafter, are the core of experienced committed leaders for the six stakes there now, and the temple. Sister TA's setting apart involved many supporters, including some family, and many friends,m even some investigators. We look forward to her return (to serve here!)

        

To come back to where we started, these sisters and elders are virtuous, they are of good report, they are praiseworthy. And our hope is that there are many who will seek after them. ("Find or be found!" Is the mantra.)

                      

  

"And straightway they left their......"

This week I have been thinking about the challenge of living so far away from family as we serve in our callings here.

Today I read through Joseph Wirthlin's thought-provoking  April 2002 talk, wherein he quotes Matthew 4:18-22.  Except that my mind read verses 19 and 20 this way:

"And he saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.

 And they straightway left their nests, and followed him."

Hmmmm.

Rainy season

Vietnam is a tropical country, but the climate is somewhat varied over the lengthof the country. So the rainy season in the South is different from the rainy season in the north. Likewise, the weather in the central area differs somewhat from that elsewhere. 

As seems to be the trend elsewhere in the world, the hype about a storm from the media tends to err on the side of caution. We've had three tropical storms blow through Hanoi in our time so far, with varying degrees of damage, ranging from downed trees (mostly shallow-rooted legumes, which seem to easily recover from these insults) to advertising banners and "temporary" sales and service booths on the street turning into tangled messes. This evening, the aftermath of a storm was a mostly clear sky and evening colors from our balcony as the sun set. Such a display is a rare event where the horizon is usually quite obliterated by the tropical humidity and haze.

                                 

                                 

Of course tropical storms and a rainy season means that drainage systems in a river delta will be stressed. I like this image of a car generating a wake that is almost surf-able, along with the motorbikes  half-submerged (and sometimes still running!) We are learning to live with water in its various manifestations, from gaseous, to perspiration, to flooding. Some of our friends semi-enjoy the fun that accompanies flooded streets, when quite literally they can catch fish in the deluged gutters. 

Of course as with many issues, the matter of flooding can also mean that there are areas subjected to drought. That is a relative term of course, rather like the definition of diarrhea or constipation. In Vietnam's coastal areas, a "drought" is more likely associated with decreased rainfall in the upstream watershed, leading to intrusion of salt-water and crop failure, whereas in the highlands the drought is associated with decreased surface water, and frustrated animal and human users. The LDS Charities couples have been successfully working on building storage tanks with some of the local communities affected by seasonal fluctuations in water resources, hoping that these modern cisterns will help them tide life over through the drought of the dry season.

We welcomed a new elder from Arizona this past week.

                                 

Even though he had previously visited Vietnam with his family, he instantly found the humidity of a summer evening oppressive. The advent of heat exchangers and compressors that allow air conditioning and refrigeration have done a lot to make these climes more habitable though so once we were safely into the taxi he was home free. (Of course, those same inventions had an almost more powerful impact on the economy of Maine and other Northeastern areas which for a season thrived on their ability to harvest and export ice! The French somehow have managed to retain an almost similarly impossible trade in the export of water that is deemed more desirable than a local product. The "brand" enhances the meaning of th experience here, and for some, it must take them back to their memory of the Rhone or the Riviera. Would Poland Spring (reconstituted) ice from Maine similarly be able to evoke a frosty trip to check the ice-fishing traps on the Messagossawosamee?) Well, back to our new elder- he is a gem, bright and smart enough to raise the average IQ of the mission a dozen points, talented musically enough to make me think of missionary preforming groups to help bring the church out of obscurity, and humble enough that none of his companions will probably ever know most of that. 

He was sprung loose from a larger group still studying in the mission training center, owing to the fact that his parents and grandmother all spoke Vietnamese freely at home, and at least until he went off to school, he likewise communicated primarily in Vietnamese so his conversational ability was adequate. The challenge of retaining language and culture as a minority when living in another dominant language like English is not a small one. His case is the exception rather than the rule, but even then, his skills with understanding the written language (it is phonetic so the rules of pronunciation are not hard to get) and the specialized vocabulary of teaching the gospel of Jesus Christ will still be an uphill climb for the coming weeks. 

                                 

A new missionary meant that we needed to open a new apartment. In miraculous fashion, our two senior sisters in the office went out and found a nice apartment in this complex, in the area of town that we wanted to expand into that was available within the week, in the price range we could manage, in the two hours of time they had to look. (Can I mention that their prayers were very specifically answered?) The feel and design of the complex were highly reminiscent of the area our daughter Elizabeth lives in in Seoul, and perhaps not surprisingly, since the complex is named "Hyundai." I was particularly impressed when we were moving them in that the inhabitants included a very large number of families with children. The ground-level play-spaces were heavily used, and strollers packed the walk-ways, and the elevators. They have a message appropriate for their neighbors.

                                   

Architecture is a valued component of Vietnamese culture, even when it is the legacy of a period of colonialism, that for other reasons remains distasteful. This night-time view of the iconic Saigon Post Office in its fully restored splendor is evidence of that valuing of things of beauty, regardless of their social connotations. Much of the mid-20th century American architecture in the south has not gotten quite the same level of reverence, aside from the Independence or Reunification Palace. And now, as a massive building boom goes forward, both houses, apartments, and sky-scrapers can take on added meaning in the social fabric as they become landmark structures with style and distinction as this image displays the unique HCM skyline today.

       

Utility may still trump design in many areas, but the balance is shifting a bit, and the details are beginning to show the appreciation for their taste of what elegance means.