[Vnbiz] Many experiences, and when you really think about it, one story

[Craig Stevenson]

I have a friend who slept on the ground in the snow. He would rise each
morning, shake the snow from himself and wait for a watery soup and a crust
of bread. Sometime before that his son carried the limp steaming bodies of
his soccer mates.  His son cried for his fallen friends, his father was
imprisoned by their cousins. No the father didn't kill the boys, he was just
a different religion.



I have a friend whose father fought, by turning a wrench, for the south.
Unfortunately, that lovely old man died not long ago. My friend is married
to a woman whose family fought for the north. His Mom doesn't understand, is
angry, hey she lost everything, the seemingly God given right to a peaceful
life, …..who wouldn't be angry.



I have another friend whose grandfather did something for the south, that
man's brother fought for the north. My friend lives in the USA, his Uncle is
a government official in Vietnam.



I have another friend who doesn't have a leg.  He is too young to have
fought in the war.  He goes back to Vietnam each year and gives until he
can't give anymore.  "No, no Craig.  You pay when you have a good business.
I pay.  My friends, here, you see, before I was very poor.  They took care
of me. Now I do what I can for them."



I have a friend his father did something for the south. My friend is older.
You can see it in his eyes.  If only he could do something for the poor. His
brother (cousin) has a factory, was early back to Vietnam, taught his
specialty at University, and was married to a woman in the North.  I say was
because he recently died.  Shame, am sure he didn't do as much as he had
wanted to.



I have another friend, I think he's from Hoi An. He is smart, hardworking,
and ambitious.  I would love to do a business with him; I will, God Willing.
He thinks that too many Viet Kieu come back and act like Gods. They throw
their money around and lecture.



My one-legged friend does throw his money around. Each time we drive down a
rode and he sees a group of hawkers just in from the country, he pulls over
and pulls five, ten, twenty into the nearest restaurant, orders milk for the
baby's and full meal for all. I think they think he wants to kidnap them. He
laughs, "You see Craig, I was very poor.  But I tell you don't give them
money, buy them things that they can use, like food, otherwise they save it
for land.  But for land they would have to save too long and they would
starve first."



One day I was walking through Hanoi and met a man with one of the men I
previously mentioned.  This man told my friend, "Don't tell them that you're
from there, they don't like us too much."



My friend who slept in the snow, who was imprisoned for being of another
religion is happy to be alive.  True, he is not well.  He has had quadruple
heart surgery from the strain to his heart being forced to sleep outside in
a Bosnian winter. My friends son is Croat, his friends were Muslim. My
friend is Croat.  He secretly filmed the Serbs massacring Muslims, and tried
for the tapes to be seen by the world. Ironically, later my friend was put
in jail by Muslims, because he was a Croat. There he slept in the snow on
the ground.



I have another friend, actually the son of a friend.  He's becoming a
Pharmacist.  I say, "You really should visit Vietnam".  He says, "I don't
know, I wish I were more fluent."  I say, "What you speak Vietnamese, you
are Vietnamese". He replies, "Yeah I know but I don't speak it that well."  I
say, "So you got a girlfriend?" He says, "No." I say, "So what kind of girl
do you like?" He says, "A girl with dark hair!" I say, "What, an Hispanic?
He responds, "No, a Vietnamese! Are you kidding, my family would never let
me be with anyone else."



Truth is a matter of perspective; it is subjective.  It is known through our
own eyes. A philosopher once said that nothing in life is continuous but
change. It might be that even our eyes can change.
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