In January 1995, at age 63, I arrived in Da Nang, Vietnam, to begin a two-and-a-half year work contract. By that point in life, I had already traveled to 30 countries to oversee multi-million-dollar construction projects for many different corporations, as an international engineer and senior project manager.
Back in the US, I’d been an avid cyclist; and I wanted to continue riding while I lived in Vietnam. Little did I know that the experience of riding through the rural countryside would change the course of my life.
Upon arrival in Da Nang, I developed a routine: each morning, at 5 a.m., I pedaled alongside other cyclists in the local biking club. It was during those outings that I discovered not just stunning landscapes of Vietnam–but also the stark realities of poverty.
Most mornings, we would ride down Bach Dang Street to Nguyen Tat Thanh along Vinh Danang to Highway One and then back to the city. Sunlight chased away the remnants of mist by 6 a.m., revealing bustling vendors who were setting up their morning stalls. The air was heavy with the aroma of cooking snails, Lotus flowers, and pickled eggs–combined with freshly brewed Vietnamese coffee.
It was a beautiful route that passed schools where local craftsmen sold wooden toys and where street vendors sold soy milk in small plastic bags for less than a nickel. What struck me most, however, were the hopeful eyes of poor children encountered along my route. Seeing them created a spark within me.
It was then that I realized my Japanese bike could become a vehicle to deliver aid. News traveled like wildfire among the communities, and more families and children sought me out. Soon my companions and I were scootering supplies–food, shelter, medicine, and clothing–to those children and their families in the countryside.
The neighborhood where I lived figured it out. When I would return to my home in downtown Danang, small children would peck on my front door, on a daily basis, asking for chocolate candy, a US dollar, or anything that they could use for their games, such as string or small pieces of rope. Seeing that many were poor–some even had no shoes–it was painful. They prompted me to think seriously about starting a children’s charity as my work in Vietnam would soon be complete; so I began to explore how the initiative that I’d started could be expanded.
What began as a personal act of kindness blossomed into Children of Vietnam in 1998: an organization that today continues to uplift the community which has offered me so much warmth and purpose.
Every year, even after retirement, I’ve returned to Da Nang. The warm wind from the South Sea would carry memories of delicious street food, local crafts, and the joy of giving back–all sparked by that first life-changing bike ride.
The bike that I rode during those early deliveries is now displayed at Children of Vietnam’s office. It’s more than just metal tubing and rubber tires. It’s a vessel that brims with cherished memories which fuel my continued commitment to this community.
Ben Wilson_Founder & President of Children of Vietnam