Word: truong
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...Holland elementary school in Dorchester did a project in which they wrote about their lives in the future. Almost every single student wrote that her or she had studied with Harvard students. “The program truly affects their future aspirations,” Rodriguez says. Phi Truong, age 17, came to Boston from Saigon in 1997. He credits the Summer Program for teaching him English. “My counselors made me speak English in class and write in a journal every week. By the end of my second summer I was able to speak, write with less...
...stuck at a roadblock. The local People's Committee chairman-who, it must be said, has only a few strands of hair, slicked down over his head-refuses to grant us permission to travel the western fork of the highway, even though construction is nearly finished. Mr. Truong surprises us by talking the guard at the government checkpoint into letting us through. The road lies between a stream and a cliff overgrown with ferns. It offers some of the most stunning scenery we've seen, but the construction workers-who insist we join them in a noontime toast of rice...
...Traveling toward what was once the demilitarized zone, our supply jeep is stopped by police, who demand 100,000 dong (about $7) to let us continue. Mr. Truong is reflective. "Corruption is a problem in our country," he admits. Still, moving around is easier than it used to be. Mr. Truong remembers when even ordinary Vietnamese needed permission to leave their villages-before the 1986 doi moi reforms that slowly opened up the country. "Now we have a better life," he says...
...given how helpful he's being, we're slowly prepared to concede that Mr. Truong is not a spook after all. As it turns out, he's not even a Party member. He's just an anxious guy with unfortunate hair. He also doesn't know how to work a manual clutch-though he never admits to it. Our Vietnamese colleague Mai, tired after six days on the road, asks him to ride her Minsk while she takes the jeep. The going is particularly mountainous, and heading uphill Mr. Truong keeps getting stuck between gears. We pass him several times...
...this new road, going over mountains to A Luoi-where the main branch of the old trail veers off into Laos-and then take Road 49, a tortuously winding piece of the old trail, east to Hué. As we descend, I hear a mighty roar. It's Mr. Truong. He's finally figured out the gears on the Minsk and he's grinning as he passes us all. He is still wearing the helmet. But in my mind's eye, I picture his combover flying triumphantly in the wind, coasting down the road into Vietnam's uncertain future...