Challenge yourself. Change the world.

A few days ago, there were a ton of chickens crammed into a chicken wire cage. Whenever one of them moved, they all moved, and a few of them were definitely getting bullied. Yesterday, the chickens got a little more room to move around in because there was a wedding this morning. We got to watch the women at our hotel plucking feathers off of buckets of dead chickens. Unfortunately, there are still a few chickens in the cage, and they smell rank. Trust me, they smell better dead. Also unfortunate: the cage is right next to where we wash laundry. Let me tell you, you have not suffered through laundry until you have washed your clothes next to a cage of chickens.

May (my roommate) and I always wash laundry together. We call it our team building. It's usually fun, but today May recalled the slogan printed on the back of our shirts here: "Challenge yourself. Change the world." She was dying with the smell of these chickens. It was hilarious. After about 3 minutes, I heard, "'Challenge yourself. Change the world.' Ugh, I only wanted to change the status of my laundry, but it's impossible with these chickens!"

Happy Memorial Day, Vietnam/ Gosh Dangit, I knew that bush was sharp.

On Tuesday, we were invited to attend a ceremony at a war memorial in town. Of course, when the People's Committee "invites" us to do something, we do not actually have the choice of whether or not to attend. Therefore, when 6 p.m. rolled around Tuesday evening, we were on our way to the service. Rows of people were lined up in columns going from the front of the courtyard to the entry gates. We stood between rows of students from the Youth Union whom we had met at dinner on Sunday. The speeches lasted for only about 15 minutes after we got there. Important guests brought up bouquets and lit massive sticks of incense. Similar ceremonies occurred all over Vietnam on the night of the 26th, Memorial Day Eve.

The memorial itself in Mo Cay town is a female soldier. Apparently, Ben Tre province is famous for having many female fighters. After the ceremony, everybody went up to light incense and candles. Little by little, people filtered out into the entire graveyard surrounding the memorial--soldiers are buried there, instead of in their ancestral graves. Soon, every single white grave had a candle and sticks of incense burning in front of it. The entire cemetery remained lit until it started raining.

Almost everyone decided to leave right before the rain came, but it was pitch black, and we were riding bikes sooo instead we sat down on the porch of Ho Chi Minh's shrine. These men started coming out of it, serving us tea, and then they brought this massive dish full of Ho Chi Minh's fruit out, but I was too creeped out by the thought of Ho Chi Minh's spirit having already eaten the fruit to eat it.

That night was the night I most thought I blended in like a Vietnamese person. It was pitch black, raining, and I was sporting a bright yellow poncho.