For the Momentary Moments...

I'm supposed to continue working on reviewing applications, contacting parents and planning the program for the next section.

I just can't do it, for now.

Instead, I have been looking at all of the pictures on Facebook, while flashing back the beauty of yesterday's memories with the Vs (for Volunteers), the Cs (for Children) and the Ps (for Pairs).

Before the camp really happened, I never expected that it would turn out such a great success. Not my success, but yours. It is your success to walk out of your comfort zone to come to this rural area. It is your success to get rid of your daughter-and-son-hood to take care of people who, physically, are the same age as you. It is your success to make them love you with deep attachment. And it is your success to have learn from them in return, and grown mature after all.

Well, time for a confession. After our first meeting at 34, an inexplicable sense of insecurity grew inside of me. It was when I realized that you all looked so young and innocent, and doubted whether you could manage the mentorship. It was when nobody knew nobody, and my speeches and questions were conceived with silence.

But soon, you repressed my worries. It was on our third meeting at Chuon Chuon Pho, which I guess our late arrivals might have allowed you time to get to know each other. I came in the middle, just to see you calling my name and others' correctly and talking lousily (?) to the whole room. It was when I started listening to acquaintances, to laughters and most importantly, to your active and energetic voices. Every face started looking familiar and close to me, confiding me that things were on the right track.

And the day came.

Once again, you repressed my biggest fear, which was the mismatch between mentors and mentees. I almost thought that I could keep track of your every effort, from Hải breaking the steps to befriend H. or Tâm struggling to cheer up the "reserved" P. to Ngọc mentoring H.

And we, unconsciously, became an amazing team with all of the fun. Never would I forget the noises when we played "đi chợ với mẹ", the cheers when "bịt mắt dò mìn" and the (crazy) laughters when "nhảy bao bố". Never would I forget the legends of 214 with boxes of noodles (of bé Hậu), the twinkling mouses (of bé Minh), the crazy dances, the nonsense jokes and the failed faces. We laughed to the point that our mouths got numbed and our stomachs got hurt.

I remember them all, not through the pictures, but by heart.

And I remember many other breathtaking moments.

The thing to be reminded for all applicants is that, HSC09 is not a free traveling and networking opportunity. You don't come here to enjoy the hot springs or to make acquaintances with your peers (some of whom, yes, do study abroad). You are here to be part of an organization, with the ultimate mission of giving the underprivileged children a memorable summer time. The reason on top priority for which you are here, is your concern about children with intellectual disabilities.

They are no different from us. They are not "stupid" or "retarded", neither are useless. Some of them fold their blankets every morning and some draw better than most of us here. It's just that they are slower in perception. They have a mind and a heart. They have senses and feelings. It's just that they have difficulties in expressing those.

I remember the moment of a short conversation among Hiếu, em Kiên and I at the drawing table. It went like this:
Hiếu: Kiên bị ... ("..." = color-blind, but he didn't say it out because the boy is there)
Kiên: Kiên bị Down... chậm khôn ý.
Hiếu: Đâu có, Kiên bị mụn ở nách thôi.

Would you believe to listen to such words from a boy with intellectual disabilities... in a calm, content, clear and conscious tone? I wish I hadn't... because it hurts to realize that he is never to get out of his unfortunate destiny. It hurts to think about his future... and THEIR future in the place where even some well-educated people consider them as "dumb"... where their opportunity to life is minimized because the privileges are reserved for "normal" people... where protection is to vanish and unconditional love is to be broken.

(At the same time, I was so grateful to Hiếu for being able to saying such extraordinary words. Had that been me, I'd just try to digress the topic and continue on the arts. So, Hiếu, thank you!!!)

I remember Phương holding my hand with trust when we were crossing the spring. Her eyes of fear, her silvering body, her inability to balance herself... were a haunt to me, which kept reminding me that I had to take care of this girl with all of my heart, maybe not forever, but at the very moment... that I had to be there for her, maybe not until the end, but until when I was still available. Wasn't this the life-changing experience that I've been mumbling all the time? The sense of responsibility, MY responsibility, without which someone else couldn't manage to achieve things... the awareness of humanities that connects people with no boundary in between... and the presence of maturity... they were all that I could capture even in a wink... but do last and beat stronger to me.

I remember Tâm and Phan Hiếu, the two adorably patient and caring little adults who did an excellent job taking care of the "difficult cases" of Phan and Long. Thank you for your commitment to your kids even when other people were having fun outside... and personally to Hiếu whose drawings were imitated perfectly by Long. Just FYI, I talked about two of you the other day as the genuineness of exemplary mentors.

And I remember the red ribbons... the outburst tears of Hải and Hiền... the silent tears of Quỳnh Anh... the sobbing sounds of Hiếu... the swelling red eyes of Hậu... the nostalgic feelings... and I caught myself crying to all of you... and talking to myself... Who needs reputation and hilarious resumé? Who needs public appreciation when there are theirs and their parents'. We were all here with them, making them happy, showing them love and respect, letting them know that they are something in this life. For the girls, it might have been their first time being treated gently and nicely by a guy. For the guys, it might have been their first time exposing themselves without the fear of being picked on. For the parents, it might have been their first time leaving their children on their own and entrusting them to some strange adolescents.

We gave them that. So, I confidently call it a success.
Tell me, what might it have been for you?