Vietnam Orphans Find Hope, Love and Family : Asia: Picasso orphanage re-creates a home life for children. Adoption is not permitted because of the bonds that develop between the housemothers and the children, who may live there until they learn a trade and can survive on their own.

The Vietnam War is long over, and with it the flood of war orphans who were the flotsam and jetsam of that agony.

But 20 years after the end of the war, Vietnam still struggles economically and must cope with a new crop of orphans who are a product of its poverty.

Here in this suburb of the former Saigon is one haven for them, a tribute to one woman’s compassion and hope.

The Marina Picasso orphanage, built and supported by the granddaughter of the famous artist Pablo Picasso, is one of the rare symbols of modernization and progress in a country that stood still for half a century, preoccupied by wars with the French, Americans, Chinese and Cambodians.

One of the villagers is Nguyen Van Luong, born 14 years ago to parents who were the victims of leprosy. Nuns took him away because it was feared the mother would breast-feed him and pass on the disease.

Today he lives in one of 24 family villas with a new mother, eight new brothers, an outdoor swimming pool, a sports field, schools and workshops in a village of orphans that is home to more than 200 children.

The Marina Picasso orphanage does not fit the gray image of state-run homes. Built from the ruins of its dilapidated predecessor, it is actually a village within a village.

It was officially opened in June, 1991, with nine houses. The Picasso Foundation acquired new land next to the orphanage the next year and 15 more houses were built.

The foundation, established by Marina Picasso herself, with headquarters in Geneva, maintains the orphanage at a cost of about $200,000 a year. The founder, who visits several times a year, is the main contributor. Always attracted to Asian culture, she knew little of Vietnam until chance brought her to the country in 1990 when she adopted the first of three children.

When Vietnamese officials took her to visit the old orphanage in Thu Duc, it was so run-down that she decided to rebuild it all except for one building that could be saved. She brought in her own architect from France.

The rebuilt orphanage sits on a blanket of greenery surrounded by coconut trees in a serene setting in a suburb of what is now Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam’s largest city and the sole source of Picasso’s orphans.

Marina Picasso wanted it to be more than just a shelter. She wanted each child to have a family headed by a mother--a single Vietnamese woman chosen from the ranks of teachers--and a chance to make something of their lives. The rules are designed to keep the families together.

Orphans, for instance, cannot be adopted out, and the house mothers take a vow not to marry for five to 10 years. Each one has as many as 10 children.

The orphans stay until they learn a trade and can survive on their own. Some are as old as 25 and live in dormitories for older boys. The youngest is 10 months old.

“Most of them lived in other orphanages and were transferred to our village,” said Cong Huyen Ton Nu Hoa Tien, secretary of the orphanage.

“When children come into this village, they are in families,” Tien said. “They have a mother, they have sisters and brothers. The mother will take in all the orphaned children as her own children. Because of the close feelings between the mothers and the children, they cannot be adopted by outsiders.”

Next to the family homes are the swimming pool; a sports field; an elementary school that teaches drawing, music and basic subjects; and workshops for training the older children. The children go outside for secondary schooling.

During years of war, orphanages overflowed with children of soldiers and civilians killed in the fighting.

“Orphans who are victims of war no longer can be found,” Tien said. The postwar generation of orphans are children whose parents died in accidents or natural disasters, or of sickness, or who were abandoned.

“In some cases, children were abandoned in front of the gate. The children told us that their parents were too poor to take care of them. The father has abandoned the family and the mother couldn’t take care of the children, so she left them in the street.”

Nine-year-old Vien Quang Hau and his 14-month-old brother, Vien Thanh Hieu, are among the abandoned. They were brought to the orphanage last April by a woman who said she was their nanny, but who Tien believes was really the mother.

Hau, the older boy, shy and with head bowed, says his mother gave him up because he doesn’t have a “happy face” that would bring luck to her lottery business.

Hau doesn’t want to go back with his mother and stepfather unless they move because the children of other families living in the same house used to bully him. But he’d like his little brother to return home someday so that he would get to know their parents.

Although he is 9, Hau is only in the first grade; his parents paid little attention to his education. But he is doing well in school.

The brothers’ new mother is Vo Thi Tuoi, a 31-year-old graduate of a teachers’ college. She has seven children in her house, ranging in age from 14-month-old Hieu to a 15-year-old.

“I always wanted to do some charity work,” she said. “I do not intend to get married. In my commitment papers, I have stated I would not get married for five to 10 years while working here.”

Her day begins at 5:30 a.m. when she wakes up her children to exercise. After they’ve washed up and had breakfast, they’re off to school. The latest they can stay up is 10 p.m. She calls it a night between 10:30 and 11 after all the children have gone to bed.

Each mother takes pride in her children’s accomplishments. Tuoi could boast that Hau recently was ranked fifth out of 31 students in his class and has done especially well in math.

Pham Thi Cung, a 45-year-old former school principal, became one of the mothers at the orphanage last March. Her husband left her 22 years ago with two small children of her own. She never remarried.

“My wish was that when all my blood children were grown up, I would devote myself to social work,” she said. Both of her sons, ages 24 and 22, are married.

Today, Cung is the mother of nine boys at the orphanage, ranging in age from 13 to 17, including Nguyen Van Luong, the 14-year-old whose parents had leprosy.

Luong’s father died of leprosy when he was very young and he cannot remember him. His mother died insane just a few years ago, and he left the orphanage temporarily to attend her funeral.

Another of Cung’s boys, 14-year-old Doan Khac Trung, is retarded. His mother and an older sister also suffer from mental disorders. Trung tells visitors he’s in the eighth grade when he is only in the first grade.

“He’s ashamed,” said Tien, the secretary of the orphanage.

“Each and every child has a very specific and tragic background,” said the house mother, Cung. “It takes a lot of effort to figure out how to raise these kids because some of them are quite difficult to deal with. It’s just a natural phenomenon in any orphanage.”

For Cung, it is a real challenge since the children come from all kinds of backgrounds.

But she keeps them on a strict schedule. They study an average of three hours a day at home or take supplementary classes at night. If they cannot keep up academically, they have to learn a trade. When they leave here, they have to have the skills to support themselves.

They must ask Cung for permission to go out and tell her what time they will return.

Cung receives $70 a month for her services, and from this she has to pay for her own food. She is allotted another $23 a month for each boy for food.

“The most rewarding thing for me,” said Cung, “is to see their progress in school.”