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Development plans may do
in
Kieu Thi Anh Lien
(R) and her sons clean tombs for money at
Tran
Hong Phuc held a knife in one hand and a trowel in
the other as he scratched old paint off a tomb.
He gave his work a quick final wipe,
and moved on to another tomb.
The 6-year-old has spends most of
his days like this. So do his siblings, aged 12 and 14.
His little sister is only two -- too
young to work -- but when she gets a little older, she'll join in.
The kids are second-generation
residents of
For years, the sprawling home to
over 100,000 graves has offered the poor and desperate one of the few places
to squat and make a living.
But it's hardly easy work.
Phuc hasn't been to school yet and
his mother, Tran Thi Hong, struggles to cover tuition for her 14-year-old.
She is currently seeking a spot in a
subsidized class, like the one her 12-year-old kid attends.
When not studying or working, the kids
catch dragonflies, play with stray cats and dogs, or pick guavas, trung
ca (Jamaican cherries) and custard apples off the trees that sprout
between the graves.
Hong, 29, said she was born in the
cemetery; her mother and grandmother lived there since 1980.
“All my children were born at
hospital and came here when they were just a few days old,” she said.
She and Tran Thi Nghia, the
children's grandmother, have raised the kids by protecting and cleaning
tombs.
Every day, they say, the trade
becomes harder. Many tombs no longer have a relative to look after them.
A plan to develop a new residential
zone featuring shopping malls, hi-end housing and public parks in the area,
has prompted others to exhume and rebury their ancestral remains elsewhere.
Work got so slow that Hong recently
took a job working at a steel plant to make extra money.
“The city doesn't allow us to live
here, because it’s the cemetery,” Hong said from one of the tents her family
put up near the funeral home.
“But we have no other choice.”
A boy studies in
his family's shack at Binh Hung Hoa cemetery in
The family seemed unwilling to mention a patriarch and visiting reporters found none in sight.
But there were several men in the
life of their neighbor Kieu Thi Anh Lien, 41.
Lien said she moved back to her
mother’s house in
She brought along all three of her
sons with her and left them at home while she worked trivial jobs in the
area.
One day, she learned the kids’ uncle
(who was mentally ill and could not speak) had repeatedly held them upside
down above a well.
“I was too scared I had to bring
them away again.”
They went to HCMC and could find
nowhere to go other than the cemetery, where Lien’s sister watched over tombs
for money.
They wandered through the graves
during the day and slept at the funeral home at night.
“One day some officials came to
check on us. I told them the truth about my situation, and they could not
bear to send us away,” Lien said.
A woman named Tu Phan, a long-time
tomb watcher at the cemetery, gave them her tent and helped get her children
into subsidized classes at a nearby orphanage.
They have survived like that for
five years now.
Lien's oldest son, 16-year-old Kieu
Minh D., attends the sixth grade at a district education center. The 12 and
6-year-old take classes at the Thien An orphanage.
Lien wakes up every day at around
3am to prepare meals and wash clothes for the children, using water from a
nearby pond, before going to work at a factory.
A light bulb that hangs in front of
their tent was struck by lighting and she has continued to work in the dark
ever since.
She says it's better that way,
anyhow. “The children can sleep for school,” she said.
“I
wish we have a house (elsewhere)," he said. "It’s polluted here and
my brothers are too young they can learn bad things, like drug use.”
--
Kieu Minh D., 16, of his younger brothers who live at Binh
Hung Hoa cemetery in
D. was recently awarded VND80,000
(nearly US$4) for her submission to a poetry contest at school.
He spent his winnings on milk for
his younger sibling.
The teenage boy said he kept crying
during his first weeks in the cemetery.
“I begged my mother to move because
this place was so creepy. One night it rained and we dared not sleep for fear
that our tent might collapse or something bad might happen,” he said.
He also cried out of self-pity in
class.
“But I’ve thought again, that my
mother has tried and suffered so much for us.”
The brother is now more worried
about the future of his siblings.
“I wish we had a house
(elsewhere)," he said. "It’s polluted here and my brothers are so
young they can learn bad things, like drug use.”
When Thanh Nien reporters
visited on the Mid-Autumn festival night (September 8) they found no cakes or
lanterns.
Just a big full moon.
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Thứ Hai, 6 tháng 10, 2014
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