I am not nervous about facing the Agent Orange victims — how could I be? I have been preparing for weeks for the anger, the hurt, the guilt. I am ready to face them and convey to them countless apologies through my eyes for things I never did. It has been forty-seven years since the end of the American War, which we call the Vietnam War, and new generations of Americans — including young college students, such as myself — still carry the guilt and shame of a conflict they were never part of. What I am unprepared for as I move forward to meet them, is their kindness and gratitude. I don’t know how to handle the excitement at my being there and the willingness to move forward.
How do people heal physically and emotionally after war and genocide? I focused on this question as I toured VAVA[1], the Vietnam Association for Victims of Agent Orange/Dioxin, located in Hanoi, Vietnam. During my three weeks in Vietnam and Cambodia as part of a study abroad program focused on the legacy of violent conflict, the VAVA visit and two other experiences, helped me answer this question.
The morning before the tour of VAVA, we met with its founder. Representing the rest of the organization, he expressed gratitude for us being there and for our willingness to learn about their country and the lasting costs – economic, physical, emotional -- of the war between Vietnam and the United States from 1964-1973. During his remarks and subsequent discussion, I never felt any sense of blame from the Vietnamese at VAVA or perceived a desire to make us feel guilty. They didn’t seem stuck in the past. Instead, they wanted to focus on moving forward, not forgetting what happened, but choosing to heal. There was little animosity toward the United States but rather gratefulness for the funding the U.S. provides to their organization.
VAVA’s primary purpose is to give victims of agent orange (AO) or dioxin, the toxic compound found within AO, a voice, through legal representation[2], and a place to recover and heal. First-generation victims suffer from a number of health problems[3], including many types of cancer, Parkinson's disease, and heart disease. Not only are these original victims affected, but many of their children and grandchildren continue to suffer these consequences alongside a host of congenital disabilities. In addition to medical support, VAVA seeks to assist victims in finding jobs, despite many of their disabilities. While their organization is funded primarily by the U.S. government, they also receive funds from several international donors and collaborate with USAID, another organization we met with, as well as NGOs.
Following our meeting at their Hanoi headquarters, we drove to a clinic to visit victims and hear their stories. This clinic primarily tended to veterans, their children, and grandchildren suffering from the effects of the war. As we toured the facility, one of the leaders who we met at the initial meeting, spoke to us about his and the staff’s responsibilities. Veterans at the clinic, and others who were exposed, go through a detox therapy process that involves soaking in a special type of sauna and eating vitamins sourced from the United States. The idea is to sweat out the harmful toxins, similar to the medicinal purposes of sweat lodges[4] in indigenous cultures. Agent Orange impacts a person’s genes, meaning that sweating out won’t “cure” or eliminate the toxin, but victims and their providers speak to the psychological benefits of the sauna. It may be a placebo or the camaraderie of being around others who are seeking healing, but victims seem quick to support the clinic’s methods.
While our guide informed us about the ins and outs of the clinic, I let my mind wander and notice the space around me. The grounds and building were well kept, speaking to the staff's dedication and care. However, despite all their best efforts, it was still apparent that they were operating on limited funding. Most of the rooms lacked air conditioning and the walls were faded and cracked with age. There seemed to be far more patients than workers, a disproportion that became more evident when we filed into a room that soon filled with veterans and their affected families. As we listened to veterans recount their experiences and express their fear and pain for their children and grandchildren, many of whom sat before us, I readied myself for their anger. It never came. Of course, there was sorrow and fear, but the anger wasn’t there. Instead, those affected asked us to remember and never allow something like this to happen again while expressing gratitude for our interest and hope for the future. Rather than being broken, I was able to see a community focused on healing themselves both physically and emotionally.
These victims of AO in Vietnam find healing in their community and through medical support, but what do you do if you are one of the perpetrators in a conflict? This is a question that Aki Ra, an ex-child soldier who fought for the Khmer Rouge during the Cambodian Genocide, which lasted between 1975-1979, had. Laying mines as a child soldier, Aki Ra has dedicated his life to demining Cambodia, seeking to remove many of the same mines he buried years before. While we didn’t have the opportunity to meet Aki Ra personally, we were able to visit his landmine museum[5] near Siem Reap, Cambodia.
The museum consisted of a display of thousands of landmines, which we learned is only a fraction of the amount he has personally cleared, and descriptions detailing the history and types of mines used in Cambodia. The museum was laid out like a wheel. At its center was a small shrine-like building with walls made of transparent plastic or glass. Behind them hung hundreds of mines, organized in rows according to type. The building was separated from the rest of the museum by a small moat of water. Rooms filled with more mines, unexploded ordinance, and detailed history surrounded the center display, branching out like spokes.
As I wandered through the rooms I could feel and see the passion and dedication of this man. He could have hidden his past or succumbed to contempt, but instead, he decided to help others find healing and safety. Aki Ra’s non-profit, Cambodian Self Help Demining[6], has cleared over 8.5 million square meters of mines and continues to operate under his direction. This demonstrates another form of healing for both types of victims, those affected by the mines and those forced to lay them.
A final experience that reinforced this idea of healing was a cultural exchange in Hanoi, Vietnam. During this exchange we met with students ranging in age from five to eighteen years, the majority being of elementary age, and discussed Vietnamese and American culture. We met in what appeared to be a classroom. The desks, tables, and chairs were pushed to the perimeter of the room to allow all of us to sit on the floor together. Stark-white walls had been decorated with American and Vietnamese flags, and the space was filled with the loud drone of voices. Some children ran around the room, darting back and forth with seemingly boundless energy. Others were shyer, cautiously approaching us or waiting for others to introduce themselves. I am a bit biased, but my two favorite new friends were a pair of twins named Katy and Anne, these were their western names, who decided that I had the best hair and would whisper gossip to me and then quickly run away. I never felt that these young girls held any animosity toward the U.S. or feared us — remnants of their past opponents. Instead, they seemed excited to practice their English and to ask me what was my favorite type of food or music. Their enthusiasm helped alleviate the guilt I was holding onto for a past that I was never a part of.
We spent the evening participating in several different activities: presentations on traditional Vietnamese dress, trivia on the United States and Vietnamese facts that embarrassingly highlighted the U.S. student's lack of knowledge, and a massive spread of food to enjoy together. This experience presented another road to healing — if not the most important — new generations. New generations, such as these young kids (and myself), aren’t focused on the past but are far more interested in the future. I realized that to truly heal, we must let go.
Each of these healing experiences had a focus on building a better future, in particular, a better future for the next generations, free of the harmful lasting legacy of war. I developed my understanding of conflict and healing as I saw just how individual and unique healing is for each person and their respective communities. Some can forgive and move on while others may never reach the same level. Despite the differences in approach and type of healing, I witnessed the resilient nature of these two nations and, in some cases, was able to connect with their populations on a much more individual and personal level.
It brings me hope to see the people and nations of Vietnam and Cambodia develop and thrive, despite the numerous challenges they have had and continue to face. This hope extends to my own future and currently divided country. Despite the overwhelming number of problems we face in the U.S., seeing the adversity these countries are overcoming gives me confidence in our nation’s ability to move forward and heal.
[1] VAVA. “An over View of Vietnam Association for Victims of Agent Orange/Dioxin-Vava.” vava.org.vn. Accessed August 23, 2022. http://vava.org.vn/an-over-view-of-vietnam-asociation-for-victims-of-agent-orange-dioxin-vava-89.html.
[2] Duag, Phan Xuan. “Agent Orange: Vietnam's 'Struggle for Justice' Continues.” FULCRUM. Fulcrum: Analysis on Southeast Asia, February 9, 2021. https://fulcrum.sg/agent-orange-vietnams-struggle-for-justice-continues/.
[3] “Agent Orange Symptoms and Effects Explained.” CCK Law. CCK Law, August 17, 2022. https://cck-law.com/veterans-law/what-does-agent-orange-do-to-the-body/.
[4]New World Encyclopedia. Sweat Lodge. New World Encyclopedia. Accessed August 23, 2022. https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Sweat_lodge.
[5] “The Cambodian Landmine Museum and School.” The Cambodia Landmine Museum, July 18, 2022. https://www.cambodialandminemuseum.org/.
[6] “Cambodian Self Help Demining.” Cambodian Self Help Demining, March 28, 2022. https://www.cambodianselfhelpdemining.org/.