interaction.

(By Duong Tuan Kiet)

This past weekend was a pretty eventful one. It entailed spending some time with a few friends here in the city of Chicago. This past Thursday following class, I decided to not go home, but find something free to do downtown. The Art Institute of Chicago is free all February, so I decided to take a look through the galleries. I mostly looked at contemporary art, architecture and design, photography, and modern art. Later that night I hung out with an old friend from high school–went down to IIT and also bumped into a Vietnamese friend. It was a fun, enjoyable time, except for the ride on the “EL”–the most unreliable public metro anywhere in the world.

like a murakami character.

The 14th of February signifies Valentine’s Day, a day where one presents their love to another, most generally their significant other. At 7:30 PM on the 14th, bored out of my mind from rotting away in my little abode, I decided to go for a walk around downtown Chicago. As I was walking, headphones wrapped around my ears, striding down State Street, I felt separated from the world around me. Walking past me were happy couples, hand in hand, sharing a passion felt for one another. Me, a wanderlust soul, temporarily moving aimlessly around what I currently call home.

My existence here reflects desolation, singularity. Like most Murakami characters, one is in the state of solitude. I feel this often when here in Chicago. I feel as if I’m empty, nothing really here for me; a walking anatomy with no strong connection to the surroundings. I often wonder why I feel this way; I have family, friends here. I do not think this feeling emerges because of some ill-relationship with these people (there are no ill-feelings towards any of them). In fact, when I am around them, the time is enjoyable, but there is that something that pushes me into this realm of solitude, a huge chunk is missing.

Like a Murakami character, I wander until I find that missing piece. Viet Nam, perhaps?

present day.

I have been back in Chicago for a little over a month.  My life now feels quite full as I am going to school full-time, interning for a non-profit, and working in an office on the weekends.  With this constant movement from one place to another, and a constant task to the next, there really is no time to sit down and relax, to read a book, to go for a stroll.  My present status and schedule epitomizes American culture–fast paced, filled with jobs and other busy work; doesn’t really appeal to me.

School is kicking my ass.  I come home from class, and am greeted by the mass amounts of homework assigned.  There is filming, reading, sociological projects, and on top of that, 10 page papers! (I just pulled an all nighter to finish one for today–now doing some more homework due).  My new internship seems interesting as it focuses on worker’s rights within Chicago, and also throughout the nation.  I am part of the networking department and will eventually be contacting other affiliates throughout the country.  Also, I am in charge of constructing a newsletter.  It is definitely good experience.

This past month, I have not had the chance to sit down and just think, or read, or meditate.  Its merely impossible.  Its getting to the point where I am sick of it.  What fills my head each day during class, or while in the process of some school-related task, is Viet Nam.  I have made a conscious decision to return to the motherland come September.  There are many reasons why I want this.  One–the peacefulness of the life there.  As some people say, Vietnamese people “song voi tinh cam”–they live with emotion.  I miss that.  Two–to gain experience in the non-profit sector in VN, as it is an aspiration to start an NGO or work for one in the distant future.

As I continue to think about Viet Nam, my daily life continues to be filled with useless, monotonous tasks.  I’ll have to deal with that until June.  Well, back to homework!

Hac.

shock.

I recently returned to my old job–office work at a nursing and rehab center–in the west suburbs of Chicago. Being gone for close to five months, drastic changes have ensued. Staffing, new ownership, frugal practices, and much more. Many people whom I previously worked with have moved on.

The other day, I read an article on the Chicago Tribune online website. “1 of 2 brother dies: Dad to be charged, prosecutors says” the headline read. Upon scanning the article, shock and awe overcame me. I cannot understand why any parent would douse their own children in gasoline and burn them alive–sadistic indeed. For the mother of these children, how does she feel?