Vietnamese Little Pussy

Vietnamese Little Pussy




👉🏻👉🏻👉🏻 ALL INFORMATION CLICK HERE 👈🏻👈🏻👈🏻




















































South Vietnamese forces follow after terrified children, including 9-year-old Phan Thi Kim Phùc, center, as they run down Route 1 near Trang Bang after an aerial napalm attack on suspected Viet Cong hiding places on June 8, 1972. A South Vietnamese plane accidentally dropped its flaming napalm on South Vietnamese troops and civilians. The terrified girl had ripped off her burning clothes while fleeing. The children from left to right are: Phan Thanh Tam (the younger brother of Kim Phùc), Phan Thanh Phouc, (the youngest brother of Kim Phùc), Kim Phùc, and Kim Phùc's cousins Ho Van Bon and Ho Thi Ting. Behind them are soldiers of the Vietnam Army 25th Division. 
Her picture was one of the most iconic images of the Vietnam War: a girl running naked down a road, screaming in pain after a napalm attack.
Her name is Phan Thi Kim Phúc, but to many people, she's known as the Napalm Girl. She was only 9 years old when that photograph was taken by The Associated Press photographer Nick Ut, for which he won a Pulitzer Prize. That photo exposed the horrors of the Vietnam War to the world. It also left Kim Phúc bitter and full of hatred. Later, she picked up the Bible and converted to Christianity.
Today, she lives in Toronto with her family and helps other children victims of war around the world. In between her trips, she shared her story with The World. 
Kim Phúc: We were allowed to play inside of the temple nearby the bomb shelter. I remember after lunch, we heard the noise of some burning outside ... suddenly, the soldiers asked the children to run out of the temple.
I saw the planes were very fast, very loud. As a child, I didn't know anything. And I turned my head. I saw four bombs landing ... then suddenly, the fire was everywhere around me. I didn't see anybody else. And then the fire burned off my clothes, and I saw the fire on my left arm. I used my right hand to wrap it up. That's why my right hand got burned, as well.
Yes. That moment, I was terrified, you know. Then, I ran out of that fire, and I saw my brothers and my cousins and some soldiers with us, probably South Vietnamese soldiers who protected us in the temple. Then, we kept running and running and running, until I was too tired to run anymore. And I saw a lot of people. They stood on the street, and I cried out, "Too hot, too hot." And I remember one of the soldiers; he gave me some water to drink. He poured water over my skin. At that moment, I passed out. I didn't remember anything. I lost consciousness that day. 
Oh, for a long time, I had no idea when my memory came back.
After I got burned, I had a dream. I really wanted to become a doctor. Then, I got into medical school but then, at that moment, the Vietnamese government rediscovered me. I was that little girl in a famous picture, right? So, many foreign journalists came to Vietnam, and they wanted to interview me. So, because of that reason, I was put out of my school to basically do publicity.
And that was a really low point in my life. I didn't have any freedom to do whatever I wanted.
The Vietnamese government sent me to Cuba to study for six years. Then, I married a Vietnamese student who I met in my university. On the way back to Cuba [for our honeymoon to Moscow], our airplane had to stop in in Gander, Newfoundland [Newfoundland and Labrador] in Canada, for refueling. So, for one hour in that location, I took my chance; my husband and I defected. Then our life set up in Toronto. We had freedom in Canada. 
Honestly, that takes me a while. I was in so much emotional pain. I went through so much of a nightmare. I was so scared. And I thought with this scar on my body, "When I'm grown up, I'll never have a boyfriend." I never thought anybody would marry me even though I can have a normal life, like everyone else.
That was in my thoughts all day and it was not easy. In the beginning, I was so disabled. My neck, my arm, my hands. It was so ugly. I was not a child anymore. It was not like I was 9 years old but like I'm 19 years old and I just had so many questions at that time: "Why me? Why am I still alive? What the purpose for my life?" And my life is so dark. No hope, no joy, no future.
I really wanted to tell all the children who suffer like me, "Please have a dream. Keep your dream alive just like that little girl."
So, they helped me to establish the Kim Foundation International. Through that foundation, I want to help children who were victims of war, who are underprivileged. And I just dedicated my life to help others. I want to give back; any kind of tragedy that comes to their life, I have been there.
Photojournalist Nick Ut and Kim Phuc Phan Thi pose for pictures at the 40th Anniversary Tribute Dinner in Honor of Kim Phuc Phan Thi in Toronto, June 8, 2012. In 1972, Ut took the iconic Vietnam War photograph of a naked Kim Phuc running down a road after being burned in a napalm bomb attack near Trang Bang. 
Both. You know, I went to Uganda, and it was a big challenge for me to get back to the burn unit. All the bad memories come back to me. ... But I said, "Kim, that's why you're here. You need to reach out to help people." 
And then finally, I get in ... I met a child who's 3 years old. His mother just stayed near his bed. I really love that little boy. And then another lady I went to visit — she just had no hope, and she really wanted to die. She didn't want to eat. But then I had an opportunity to give her my picture. And I said to her, "I got burned so badly like you and I was just 9 years old." And she just listened as I shared with her about my pain — my thoughts; I wanted to die; I didn't want to live anymore. "But now, I'm here. And you have to accept it, and can I pray for you?"
And she didn't change anything but when I left the burn unit, the nurse told me, "Wow, you were a big impact on her life. After you left, she stood up, walking in the hallway, and she wanted to eat. She wants to live."
Right now, no. But before, yes. Before I held the hatred for a while. And I learned to forgive. I learned to love my enemies. That is from learning. I'm not born with that. I was raised in a different religion. I was raised in a Cao Dai religion in Vietnam but I was missing something. And I just wondered, "Where are you, God?" But then finally I went to the library, and I had read so many religious books and among that, I read the Bible. Then I changed my attitude, changed my behavior.
And because of that picture, I got the best treatment later on. I went through 16 operations but unfortunately, I still have a lot of pain, so recently, I went through 10 laser treatments in order to help ease my pain.
They know my suffering. They know everything. I cannot, you know, hide anything from them. I continue to teach them why Mommy got that scar and pain and suffering. But then I tell them because I still have a life and I still have you ... be thankful to be alive. And I never, never take it for granted ... I count what I have but I'm not thinking about what I lost.
Editor's note: This interview has been edited and condensed lightly for clarity.
Every morning, the editorial team at public radio’s international news show The World meets to plan what they'll cover that day. Want to see what's on deck?
Sign up for our daily newsletter TOP OF THE WORLD and get the big stories we’re tracking delivered to your inbox every weekday morning.
The World is a public radio program that crosses borders and time zones to bring home the stories that matter.
PRX is a 501(c)(3) organization recognized by the IRS: #263347402.
We use cookies to understand how you use our site and to improve your experience. To learn more, review our Cookie Policy. By continuing to use our site, you accept our use of cookies and Privacy Policy.
The story you just read is freely available and accessible to everyone because readers like you support The World financially. 
Thank you all for helping us reach our goal of 1,000 donors. We couldn’t have done it without your support. Your donation directly supported the critical reporting you rely on, the consistent reporting you believe in, and the deep reporting you want to ensure survives. 

Prostitution in Vietnam is illegal and considered a serious crime.[1] Vietnam's Ministry of Labour, Invalids and Social Affairs (MOLISA) has estimated that there were 71,936 prostitutes in the country in 2013.[2] Other estimates puts the number at up to 200,000.[3]
Sex workers organizations report that law enforcement is abusive and corrupt.[1]
MOLISA reported that in 2011, 750 prostitutes and 300 pimps were arrested. 251 businesses had their business licenses revoked for involvement in the sex trade that year.[4]
It is unclear when prostitution and other forms of sex work first appeared in Vietnam. Possibly the earliest depiction or mention of female sex work in Vietnam is in The Tale of Kiều (Vietnamese: Truyện Kiều), an epic poem written c. 1800 by celebrated Vietnamese writer Nguyễn Du.[5] The poem's story centers on the life of Thúy Kiều, a young woman living in mid-16th century Đại Việt who sacrifices herself to save her family. To prevent the imprisonment of her brother and father, she sells herself into marriage, unaware that her new husband is a pimp, who forces her into sex work. Despite the poem's focus on forced sex work, it remains popular and moving even for present-day readers, suggesting that sex work is not strictly taboo in Vietnamese society.[6]
The poem is set during the reign of the Jiajing Emperor of Ming China, at a time when Đại Việt was politically independent from China but asserted its membership in a shared, Confucian cultural world alongside China.[7] Unsurprisingly, the poem depicts a form of sex work that resembles Chinese courtesan culture. The protagonist, Kiều, is not just a provider of sexual services but also an entertainer, a performer, and a potential lover. This view of female sex work in Đại Việt, though fictional, complicates the assumption that sex work is necessarily or has always been a transactional exchange of sex for money.[8] The poem reveals a 19th century understanding of sex work in Vietnam that is rooted in performative and affective, not just sexual, labor.[8] Its continued resonance suggests that this understanding of sex work persists in the present.[6]
Apart from the depiction of female sex work in The Tale of Kiều, scholars have found scant mention of the topic in other documents and texts from the Đại Việt period of Vietnamese history. This lacuna suggests that even if sex work was present, it was treated ambiguously by Đại Việt rulers.[9] To illustrate, the 1812 legal code promulgated by Emperor Gia Long of the Nguyễn dynasty, the most well-known of pre-colonial legal documents from Vietnam, does not contain any explicit prohibition of sex work, but it does contain a provision for punishing male court officials who visit ả đào singing houses, which have a reputation as historic sites of female sex work coupled with courtly entertainment.[9]
During the colonial period, female prostitution and other forms of sex work were not banned but instead heavily regulated by French authorities. The regulations focused heavily on encounters between the colonizing and the colonized (i.e., European men and Vietnamese women) leaving other kinds of sexual encounters and other forms of sex work, including ones involving native men or European women, unregulated.[10] Even then, there was plenty of clandestine or "black market" sex work that took place outside of the regulation system in the colonial period.[9] This situation is akin to that of the pre-colonial period, when sex work was regulated, albeit more loosely, and clandestine sex work also took place outside of the Đại Việt regulation system.[9]
The regulation of female sex work did not exist in a vacuum. Instead, it was part of the colonial government's general system of regulating carnal encounters between the European and the Vietnamese populations. As anthropologist-historian Ann Laura Stoler observes, sex work came to be seen as increasingly permissible when concubinage began falling out of favor with the government in the early 20th century.[11][12] Concubinage, both in Indochina and much of Southeast Asia, was initially seen in the late 19th century as more conducive than sex work for stabilizing racial hierarchies and preserving public health, because it provided European men in the colonies with an opportunity to build interracial relationships outside of marriage that are stable and do not risk the spread of venereal diseases.[12][13] However, concubinage produced mixed-race (French: métis) progeny whose identities were seen, increasingly in the early 20th century, as threatening to blur the boundary between colonizer and colonized and, thus, undermine racial hierarchies.[12] In that context, another historian notes that to colonial authorities, sex work became permissible or even preferable to concubinage, because it was seen as a loveless transaction; as such, it was highly regulated but not prohibited outright.[10]
Both colonial records and contemporary native reportages (Vietnamese: phóng sự) tend to frame female sex work in colonial Vietnam as a problem that was not only morally and medically improper but was also a microcosm of some larger problem or fear, whether it had to do with the ineffectiveness of French colonial governance or the decline of Vietnamese society.[14] A clear example of this framing can be found in Lục Xì, a classic reportage of sex work in colonial Hanoi, written in 1937 by Vũ Trọng Phụng, a renowned journalist and author of modernist Vietnamese literature. The work was originally published in a local newspaper (Tương Lai, 'Future') in a serialized format, before it was published as a book later in 1937.[15]
Phụng’s detailed study of the sex industry was only possible because Hanoi's officials wanted to showcase the city's ostensible success in dealing with sex work to journalists and writers like Phụng, which give him and his contemporaries unprecedented access in 1937 to the municipal dispensary (Vietnamese: nhà lục xì, lit. 'the look-see house') where sex workers were treated for venereal diseases.[15] However, sex work was by no means hidden from public view at the time, nor was the reportage Phụng’s first foray into writing about sex work, as he had just published a novel in 1936 (Làm Đĩ, 'Prostitute') with a fictionalized account of how an upper-class woman becomes a sex worker, written in the style of social realism.[15] Phụng’s view is not simply that sex work was immoral, but that the outsize presence of sex work in Hanoi was a symptom of larger problems—such as exploitative or ineffectual colonial policies, materialistic attitudes, poverty, and the spread of venereal diseases—which stood in stark contrast to French claims that Vietnam was prospering under colonial rule.[15]
On the other hand, the academic scholarship on the colonial period generally presents a view of female sex work as more than just an object of colonial regulation in the name of dealing with moral or medical impropriety, but also as an indication of the sex workers’ agency and a metaphor for the gendered and racial hierarchies that are at the heart of the colonial enterprise. Many sex workers chose this line of work because they wished to escape rural poverty, and the sex industry provided a viable professional opportunity for them to uplift themselves economically.[16] This sense of agency also compelled sex workers to ply their trade in the black market, outside of onerous regulatory requirements and the state's taxation regime.[9] At the same time, sex workers did not always make the choice of entering the profession freely; they might have turned to sex work out of sheer economic desperation or fallen victim to indenture or trafficking schemes.[9][16] The fact that sex work was even a viable pursuit at all—that Vietnamese female sex workers would be patronized by European men—also had to do with the gendered and racial order in place at the time, which frequently cast Vietnamese women, in literary, visual, and epistolary depictions, as sexual objects for the European male gaze and desire.[10][17][18]
In general, historians have observed that regulations pertaining to sex work in colonial Indochina frequently echoed and influenced similar regulations in France, as described and analyzed by French historian Alain Corbin.[10]
Shortly after the establishment of Tonkin as a French protectorate, in 1888, the Hanoi Municipal Council put in place formal regulations on prostitution in the city. (Similar regulations had also been introduced in Haiphong in 1886.) The 1888 regulations include a provision for the official licensing of brothel houses; these licensed brothels (French: maison de tolérance) were the only places where sex work was permitted.[15] At the same time, sex workers had to register their names, ages, places of origin, and place of employment with the municipal police, who maintained an official register of sex workers.[15] Registered prostitutes were known in French as filles publiques, 'public girls' or filles soumises, 'submissive girls' (i.e., they have submitted to the regulatory regime), or in Vietnamese as có giấy, 'has papers'.[14][15] The regulations also establish a municipal dispensary to screen sex workers for venereal diseases and house them for treatment if necessary—the same institution that would come to occupy the attention of Vũ Trọng Phụng in 1937.[15] In addition, the regulations expressly forbid the act of procuring, and dictate that only a woman could be the proprietor of a brothel.[14]
The Hanoi regulations were not set in stone: A modified set of rules, promulgated in 1891, permit independent sex workers (French: filles isolées) to be licensed to work at a location of their own choosing rather than only at a licensed brothel.[15] In 1907, municipal authorities created a separate "vice squad" or service des moeurs (Vietnamese: đội con gái) in the police force to deal with all matters relating to sex work, including the registration of brothels.[9][14] Eventually, an extensive, uniform law governing sex work in all of Tonkin was promulgated by the protectorate's résident supérieur (resident superior) in 1921.[9] Besides instituting requirements for registration and regular health checks, and mandatory treatment if a venereal infection were to be discovered, the 1921 law also taxes sex workers’ incomes.[9]
The 1921 law, though ostensibly uniformly applied throughout Tonkin, was, strictly speaking, in force only in the French concessions—the cities of Hanoi and Haiphong, provincial capitals, and military bases—because the rest of the protectorate was indirectly ruled by the French through the Vietnamese emperor of the Nguyễn dynasty (Emperor Khải Định at the time).[9] (It has also been suggested that the special attention paid to mi
Bilibili Fashion Teen Video
Russian Milf Lick
Erotika Sex Brat Sestra
Demi Rose Sex
Purenudism Photo Teens 16 Years
Young Vietnamese Girls Photos and Premium High Res ...
Young Vietnamese Girls Photos and Premium High Res ...
How the Vietnam War's Napalm Girl found hope after tragedy
Prostitution in Vietnam - Wikipedia
200,000+ Best Asian Girl Photos · 100% Free Download ...
Vietnamese Beautiful, Famous & Sexy ActresseS - IMDb
44 Declassified Vietnam War Photos The Public Wasn't Meant ...
Koreatown, Little Saigon and South Asians: As Asian ...
madpussylicker (@madpussylicker) | Twitter
Seven Vietnam War Movies You Probably Haven't Seen, But Should
Vietnamese Little Pussy


Report Page