This past year I decided to spend travelling Asia with a friend rather than the more common choice of studying at college. My friend and I spent four months of our interim year bicycling through Cambodia and Vietnam. Although we went into our year not knowing what we would do, we found traveling by bicycle to be a rewarding means of travel and began to create a routine during our bicycling days. At dawn we would wake up, pack our bicycles, fill our water bottles and head out for a days bike. After an hour of morning riding we would stop and eat a small breakfast of a local rice paper snack then continue riding. Midday in Southeast Asia is too hot to bicycle in, so we would spend 11:00am to 2:00pm in the shade napping or eating. After the midday sun we would fill our water bottles and head back out. About an hour before dusk we would find a secluded area to setup camp and, with the last hour of sun, we would find some food to eat for dinner before going to sleep.
About 1,500 Kilometers into our trip we found ourselves riding into the midday sun in the middle of a desert in northern Vietnam. With no trees or villages for miles, our ability to find shade before fainting became less and less likely as our water bottles ran dry. Being blown back by the desert wind and scorched by the midday sun we slowly made our way towards the only object visible, a dot in the distance that slowly morphed into a shack. The shack itself was barely holding itself against the wind, but managed to provide enough resistance to keep its form and provide shade for its four inhabitants.
From the shack emerged a short Vietnamese man wearing old white shorts and an army hat. While beckoning us over, the man called to his wife and twin daughters sending them off on a mission. We approached and were given seats by our exuberant host whose English proficiency was, we promptly learned, poor enough for us to have to use our Vietnamese for any communication. After a brief introduction of each of us, we informed our host of our American nationality.
“American?!”
Our host was briefly surprised, but never dropped his smile. The following conversation roughly translated to this:
“America fought Vietnam in a war you know?”
“Yes, we know.”
Our host then said, pointing to a scar on his left arm, “An American did this to me. It was a very long time ago. When American boys came then, they shot us. Now there are American boys here and I welcome them into my home.”
Our benevolent host then asked us to eat with him, we graciously accepted, as we had no water or food to sustain us to the next town. Motioning to his wife and daughters the three came out with a crock of chicken soup, bowls, and spoons, a project they had been busy with since only moments before we stepped in. We sat with our host and together the three of us ate, my friend and I eating to our fill at our host’s urging. When the crock of soup was nearing empty our host asked us if he should have his wife make more for us, pointing out that he had plenty more chickens to spare. Upon observation, my friend and I noticed the chickens he spoke of numbered a meager two. Disappointed that we turned down his offer of killing another chicken for us, but then satisfied that we had eaten our fill, the head of the home motioned for us to take a nap under his shade.
When the time came to continue our ride we thanked the family as best we could. After our monetary offer of thanks was rejected we attempted offering each and all of our possessions, all were rejected. The father, smiling, thanked us for our gratitude, but told us to continue our journey.
“Go then, be safe. Remember time has changed this land and your land. We were once enemies, but now we are friends. Friends share food and shelter. Go friends, continue on your way.”
We left the man’s home with full stomachs and rested bodies, but more importantly we left with dramatically changed minds. Any worries or preconceptions that being American would endanger us in our travels in Vietnam were torn up in our encounters with this kind man and his family. In our time of need, not only were we given what we needed, but also nothing was expected of us in return. A man who had been physically wounded by someone of our nationality was more generous to us than we had ever been to any person we had even the slightest reason to dislike. How many times have we passed up an opportunity to help others because we didn’t like them? By ignoring the needs of others we encourage hate and close-mindedness. This man promoted peace on that day. As one person he gave all he could to an enemy asking for no return, making his enemy his friend. By following his example of limitless charity we can each spread peace. By listening to a stranger, walking with an enemy, or giving food to homeless man we too can be merchants of peace.
