In between the weekly headaches, Khang Vodinh '00 has rich childhood memories, snapshots of his first 19 years in Nha Trang, a picturesque coastal community of white sand beaches in south central Vietnam.
It is this childhood – much of it lost during the
imprisonment and torture that causes the headaches — that the visual
arts major has captured in photographs taken during his homecoming last
fall.
His project “Return to Nha Trang, Vietnam” is
a photo documentary of some 50 works. The exhibition runs through April 8
in the Arts Atrium Gallery. The opening reception is Friday, March 31,
from 4:30 to 6:30 p.m.
Khang spent last fall in his homeland, fearful at first
that his project might not happen at all. He describes the terror of
seeing uniformed personnel upon arriving at the Saigon airport:
“Since my failed escape attempt and subsequent imprisonment, I have
always feared people in uniform.” Some civilians, knowing he had fled
Vietnam, assumed he was a spy and threatened him physically. Others
threatened to call the police.
But he found ways to get his photos, hiding his camera
and taking shots surreptitiously or impersonating an English-speaking
Chinese tourist.
The black and whites show a range of experiences: his
grandparents in their garden, children riding their bikes through a flood
to school, a barber awaiting customers at his outdoor shop. Khang, born
after the Vietnam War, also uncovers vestiges of the conflict: gunnery
turrets now converted to parks, disabled people selling lottery tickets.
One photo shows a homeless mother holding a severely deformed infant (a
consequence, Khang says, of chemicals used in the war). “There is no
shelter for people like us,” the mother said.
Khang, 26, is older than most of his classmates, owing
mainly to having been imprisoned after two failed escape attempts. The
first time, in 1978, his parents and three siblings were held for four
months. (His father, a pilot for South Vietnam, was imprisoned a total of
eight years.)
A decade later, Khang and his brother were intercepted
by soldiers who shot and killed a number of their fellow boat passengers.
This time, Khang's two-month imprisonment included torture, beatings and
solitary confinement. The recurring headaches, he says, are from the
injuries his captors inflicted when they beat him in the head with a rock.
With the headaches come a flood of painful memories from a time that was
“like nothing on earth.”
Khang's family was finally allowed to leave in 1992,
eventually settling in Albany, where Khang finished high school. While
volunteering at an Albany nursing home that the idea for the project was
born. “I met an elderly woman whose family had mostly left her,”
he recalls. “We talked about life and the idea that you can preserve
the memories of happier times. It touched my heart.
“I do this in the hope that my American friends can
learn about the people and culture of Vietnam,” he says. “I have
met some students who don't even know where Vietnam is. I hope that one
day we can talk about culture and interests and ideas and we can be
closer.
“Prof. (Martin) Benjamin (Khang's advisor) has
shown me all the technical aspects of taking a good picture,” Khang
says, “but he also has taught me how to take a picture that reflects
and relates what I feel.”
“Although I am happy here, memories of my
birthplace often arise,” Khang wrote in the introduction to his
exhibition. “Frequently, I reminisce about what I left behind,
friends and relatives, the culture and the environment. (My) return to my
homeland created pictures that explore and reveal my former life.”