It is his love for Vietnam and its people that drives Peter Jenni’s philanthropic work. The Swiss national, who has been living in Vietnam since December 2016, founded the Charity Project Krong Buk (CPKB) together with his wife Tran Thi Hiep. Based in Switzerland, the charity has been providing valuable social support to people in need since 2020. Among them are a large number of victims suffering from the long-term effects of Agent Orange used in the Vietnam War. Many of them have severe mental or physical disabilities. This is also the focus of its cooperation with GCCH, which was established two years ago. This cooperation is a valuable addition to GCCH’s other projects in Vietnam. The CPKB brings real, practical help, joy and hope to the lives of people who are dependent on support. Wherever possible, it also paves the way for them to independently improve their living conditions.
In this interview, we would like to introduce Peter Jenni and the work of the CPKB, which we support, to our donors and other interested parties. The questions were asked by GCCH employee and historian Samuel Müller-Zwahlen.
Dear Peter, who are you? How would you describe yourself and your life so far?
Put simply: I’m a “Seebueb” [man of the lakes]. Others are better placed to describe me, but I’d say I’m a person with two homelands. On one hand, I’m a committed Swiss citizen. On the other, I’ve deliberately chosen Vietnam as my second home and hope to spend the second half of my life here.
Back to the lakes. I was born in the Zurich district of Seebach [“Lakebrook” – the name was a sign], but spent most of my childhood and youth in Rüschlikon on Lake Zurich. This had a profound influence on me. Rüschlikon had an independent youth centre, and I was on its steering committee from a young age. Later, I got married, and my two sons, Marc and Jan, were born in 1990 and 1992. They grew up by Lake Walen, where we lived for more than 20 years.
I felt drawn to water in Vietnam, too – I wanted a house by the sea. That didn’t work out for two reasons: firstly, coastal properties were expensive, and secondly, I was concerned about climate change – rising sea levels and more frequent storms. I experienced a storm first-hand in the coastal city of Nha Trang, where I initially lived, and decided it wasn’t feasible. Then my wife found a beautiful plot of land by a lake – and so once again, I ended up living by a lake.
So that’s clear: lakes are where you truly feel at home.
Yes! Even today, whenever I see a lake, I pause for a while. Lakes give me a sense of stability. I’m drawn to the view into the distance – not infinite, but far-reaching.
How did you end up in Vietnam?
It’s a bit of a long story. For 20 years, I worked part-time in public relations for the Food Inspection and Veterinary Office in St. Gallen. The other half of my time I spent running my company, TEXTartelier. I also took part in mountain bike races. Eventually, it all became too much – I was on the verge of burnout. Fortunately, I got help in time. My therapist advised me to take a longer break. The canton of St. Gallen supported this. I used the time to go cycling – at a slower pace. Looking at a map, I came across Vietnam, a country I had never visited. So, I planned a cycling tour from the north to the south.
After about six weeks, I arrived in Nha Trang – and realised I wanted to live in Vietnam. I was taken by the climate and the cheerful people. Life here seemed simpler than in Switzerland, and for that reason, happier.
So, based in a hotel in Saigon, I planned my emigration. It turned out to be quite straightforward. During that time, I also met my wife. I returned to Switzerland for a year to say goodbye and get ready for the move.
In the meantime, however, I was diagnosed with tongue cancer. I had to undergo surgery and radiotherapy. I told the doctors, “Do what you need to do, but by the end of the year, I’m going to Vietnam.” One of the doctors – a chain smoker with an impressive beard – asked me what I’d eat there, considering the limitations caused by my illness. I replied, “I’ll eat beer and drink wine!” That convinced him. These days, I’m managing well. Medical care here is good – but sadly, only for those who can afford it.
Are there any particular things that fascinate you about Vietnam? What bothers you? How would you describe the country to someone in Switzerland who’s never been there?
With a few exceptions – like dealing with authorities – life in Vietnam is noticeably more relaxed. People are generally very open, cheerful and helpful. In Switzerland, people aren’t used to strangers striking up conversations. In Vietnam, that’s completely normal.
Another thing I appreciate is that you rarely need to worry about your phone or wallet being stolen. But you do need to be careful when asking questions – instead of saying “I don’t know,” people might give you an incorrect answer. They simply don’t want to admit they don’t know something.
People here work hard and don’t think much about whether it’s a Saturday or Sunday. Yet they also make time for socialising, especially in rural areas. You’re almost never alone. Several generations often live under one roof, which is not just tradition but often essential for survival. Many elderly people rely on their children for support. Retirement homes are rare, and pensions are low – if they exist at all.
In the cities, particularly in high-end hotels, you meet people who are better off. They can sometimes be ostentatious – often like nouveaux riches.
What saddens me is the poverty. For someone in my position, it’s impossible not to notice.
And you’ve committed yourself to addressing it. How did the Krong Buk Charity Project come about?
When I set off in the morning on my motorbike – to get a coffee, for example – I was often in a bad mood. Then I’d encounter the Ede people, an ethnic minority who live nearby, often in one-room longhouses built in swampy, muddy areas. I’d see children covered in dirt but full of laughter. Their joy was infectious. I asked myself: why are they so happy – and why am I, Peter Jenni, such a grump? I felt a powerful urge to give something back to the children.
My wife asked the local council what these children needed. We learned that many families couldn’t afford school supplies – books, stationery, or schoolbags. They have to pay for everything themselves, including school uniforms. Children whose families cannot afford these uniforms are excluded from certain school events. Also, the school system is built around private tuition, which teachers use to supplement their low salaries. Families must pay for that too.
So, my wife contacted the schools. We started by funding schoolbags and books. It quickly became clear we needed a formal structure for our support. That’s when I decided to establish a charitable association in Appenzell, Switzerland. I also reached out to contacts I had in Switzerland.
And what happened next?
The first donations came in quickly, and so did more requests for help. Since then, we’ve been supporting people in need in our region of Đắk Lắk. We never give out cash, only practical aid, always in cooperation with the local community, schools, the Women’s Union or the Communist Youth Union. Without these partners, our work wouldn’t be effective – we couldn’t do all the background checks ourselves.
How do you evaluate the impact of your aid and safeguard it for the future?
We ourselves assess whether our support is appropriate. Some families affected by Agent Orange already receive support from other sources. In such cases, we prioritise those who need us more.
We’ve also had success with ‘helping people to help themselves’. For instance, we provide families with a cow, that we continue to own, and receive a share of the proceeds. We cover costs like veterinary care. This model has been running for a year now and we’ve already seen the first returns. The recipients become active participants, not just beneficiaries. They take responsibility and actively work to improve their own situation.
How did your collaboration with GCCH begin?
When I set up the charity, I needed board members. My dear friend, pastor and GCCH staff member Jakob Vetsch came to mind. I was the first journalist to write about his online pastoral care, about 30 years ago. Also, [GCCH founder] Roland Wiederkehr was my primary school teacher in Uitikon-Waldegg. I always kept an eye on his work, though we lost touch after school.
The issue of Agent Orange ties directly into GCCH’s mission, and through our collaboration, I’ve come to appreciate just how dedicated and effective your work is. It’s remarkable how much can be achieved with modest donations – for example, 300 Swiss francs can fund a daycare place for a severely affected child for a whole year, enabling relatives to work and escape poverty.
You’ve hinted at your motivation – could you expand on that?
Around 50% of the Ede people are illiterate. I firmly believe education is the first and most important step out of poverty. That’s why we focus so heavily on schools. Even a simple calculator costing 8 Swiss francs – something a family might not afford – can make a world of difference. Education empowers children to support their families, sometimes by finding work in a city. That’s a key motivation for me.
Just recently, we handed out school backpacks again – the joy was overwhelming. The children were so grateful for the chance to simply go to school. Things we take for granted can mean the world to them.
Are there any other successful projects you’d like to highlight?
Yes, in addition to the example of our work with schools, I am thinking of food deliveries for people in extreme need, which we are able to provide thanks to GCCH. I would like to illustrate this with the example of a woman in her eighties. Her daughter, in her forties, is severely affected by Agent Orange and requires constant care and assistance. She can only lie on the bed or on the floor. When I first saw her, she just screamed – it was very hard to bear. But then I was told that she was actually very happy about my visit. The woman’s daughter cannot be cared for in a nursing home. The elderly mother has to both work and care for her disabled child. For 40 Swiss francs, we can support them for an entire month with essential food supplies – a small investment that makes a big difference.
It is also incredibly valuable that we are able to identify people affected by Agent Orange and arrange medical assessments and support for them. In this area, we work closely not only with GCCH, but also with organisations such as DAVA (Da Nang Association for Victims of Agent Orange).
What has had the deepest emotional impact on you?
Meeting people with severe disabilities. It’s difficult to take in, but also deeply rewarding to be able to help in a tangible way. As I’ve said, the joy and gratitude of these individuals are so moving. Their happiness can be hard for outsiders to understand, but their families often assure me that they truly are happy.
And your biggest challenge so far?
Raising enough donations for the projects. Beyond that, we’re managing well. My wife organises supplies, and I focus on fundraising. Together, we plan and implement the aid projects.
One issue that needs more attention is littering – it’s a serious problem here. Education could help instil greater environmental responsibility, especially among the younger generation.
What are your hopes for the future?
First, I’d like to thank GCCH. The collaboration is incredibly valuable – it strengthens my bond to Switzerland while making a real difference here in Vietnam.
My hope is that the work continues uninterrupted and that we can keep supporting one another.
We can only thank you in return. It’s a privilege to work with trusted local partners who share our values and in whom we are confident.
I feel the same – and I’m looking forward to our future cooperation!
We are too, Peter – thank you for taking the time to share your experiences and perspectives with us – it’s been a truly enriching conversation!
