Unraveling history's alternate timelines

My trek through Dai Viet in 1402 as documented on Nov 21, 2024

The Guild of Parenters Redefines Childhood and Family Dynamics in Dai Viet

Ah, Dai Viet in the early 15th century: a time when rice fields stretch endlessly, fragrant like the jasmine-infused air after a passing monsoon. Today, my temporal escapades bring me to a parallel timeline where a singular yet monumental shift has occurred—children are raised exclusively by a guild of professional Parenters. This guild movement has significantly influenced the societal fabric of Dai Viet and, dare I say, with hilariously intriguing results.

The Parenters are esteemed specialists, entrusted with the delicate task of nurturing the young from birth until the age of eight when the children are ceremoniously returned to their biological parents. This arrangement, intended to harness the power of collective expertise, seemed like a noble endeavor at its inception. Yet, I suspect it lacks a certain warmth that only parents could provide. Here, society has developed an amusing system of badges that children earn, not unlike modern scouts, marking milestones like "First Step Achiever" or "Rice Bowl Holder Without Spillage." The competitiveness to accumulate these badges before the grand parental reunification day is fervorous and somewhat reminiscent of modern gamification efforts—it is dizzyingly delightful to witness.

The knock-on effects are aplenty. Whole family units are reminiscent of strangers partaking in a formal meeting, with parents grappling to familiarize themselves with aged children they have never truly known. I've had the dubious pleasure of attending a family dinner, often filled with awkward silences and stilted exchanges. Parents desperately try to decode what Instagram—excuse me, I mean culturally relevant equivalent—accolade their descendant was most proud of this week. It's somewhat akin to meeting your roommate for the first time after jointly earning a Ph.D. without ever attending a single class together.

Curiously, this peculiar child-rearing practice has sparked a subtle economic boom. Lacking the usual distractions of child-rearing, parents have plunged into a dizzying array of artisanal endeavors, resulting in an overabundance of intricately woven baskets and elaborately designed silk pajamas hitting the markets like fashionably peculiar overgrowth. One must appreciate the balance here—psychologists might thrive on analyzing the unspent nurturing energies now channeled into crafts, potentially creating future Antiques Roadshow (though that won't arrive for centuries) favorites.

Irony, however, settles in when considering that while the children are remarkably independent by age seven, mastering ancient poetry and agriculture simultaneously, a deeper note resonates. They come to define "family" not by kinship, but by the badges collected. An underlying satire indeed—that in striving to preserve familial excellence, true familial ties have become more like fine silk—luxurious but paper-thin.

During my stay, I spoke with Quoc, a seasoned Parenter who explained his deep satisfaction with his work. He believes he is crafting the future, one badge at a time. I, in turn, asked if he thought parents missed out on those tender first steps and mispronounced words. Quoc looked at me blankly, then offered more rice wine. In this timeline, questions such as those are clearly best washed away with a drink.

As I meander back to my temporal vessel, the dizziness from the rice wine still keeping me entertained, I can't help but muse over the shared futures these children will have—in bazaars stacked high with familial memorabilia, where silk is not just a commodity but a conversation starter. And isn’t it a humbling reminder that in committing to polished perfection, Dai Viet has inadvertently quilted its cultural fabric with the threads of unintended detachment.

Walking past a group of giggling children, each holding badges like badges of honor awarded for 'Cleanest Hair' or 'Most Respectful Cough,' I'm resolutely charmed by the absurdity, even as a strangled laugh escapes me. Is it perhaps a distant cousin to modern participation trophies? Until next time, on to unravel the ticklish peculiarities of more seemingly trivial, yet profoundly resonant parallels!

Navigating back, I stumbled over the ceremonial slippers left neatly by the doorway. So, tomorrow’s adventure better involve shoes with laces.