The Mother Land
Monday, March 10, 2008
For those who may not know, my mama and I are going to Vietnam for two weeks. This will be my very first trip to the place where I was born, and mama's first since immigrating to the United States. I'm going to film a documentary, and will be focusing on the reunion of my mom and her older sister. It's been 33 years since they've seen each other. This is going to be quite a trip.
I'll have my MacBook Pro with me, and I'll be venturing out to the internet cafes in Saigon. Hopefully, I'll be able to update my blog daily. Keep an eye out for updates from The Mother Land!
Check out my first Vlog:
The Arrival
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
My mom and I were not too happy with the flight to Ho Chi Minh City. 16 hours with a 90 minute layover in Taipei. My friend Kristen Wong urged me not to take China Airlines, and now I can see why. I'm not going to get into the details of how uncomfortable the flight was because I'm just too damned tired. Let's just say that I probably slept a grand total of about seven minutes. The good news is that my bum foot is feeling pretty good, considering that 24 hours earlier I was gimping around on crutches. If anyone is ever in pain, get yourself some extra strength Aleve. That stuff is amazing. I don't care what Tom Cruise says about medicine, I'm taking any and every pill that makes me feel good! The only reason why Tom is on my mind is because they showed his latest film on the plane. The whole time, I kept thinking that he was looking me straight in the eye and calling me glib for taking the Aleve. Hey, I could have pulled out the big guns and went straight for the vicodin, but I got something over the counter instead! In any case, I'm feeling good that my foot is feeling good, because now I fully enjoy my trip.
My mom and I are now in Ho Chi Minh City. Please don't ask me what time or what day it is because I wouldn't be able to tell you. I'm dead tired. That flight may have been excruciating, but it was very well worth it. Check out this little clip and you will see why...
Ho Chi Minh City
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
I am still quite shell-shocked. It could be the jet leg or possibly even the painkillers, but my mind has definitely moved into awe mode. I really can't believe that I'm actually here in Saigon, the place of my birth. My mom is probably in more shock, being that this is her first time back to her home in 33 years.
Day one in Vietnam was spent meeting up with relatives whom I have no recollection of, being that I was only three years old when our family escaped. I was definitely nervous at first, but all my cousins made me feel at home. It helps that I understand and speak the language, so there is definitely no communication barriers. I'm so glad that my mom made all of us kids speak Vietnamese at home when we grew up. Not knowing your native tongue is like not knowing a huge piece of your heritage. After the initial meet and greet, my cousin took us back to Di Minh's (my mom's older sister) house in Saigon. During the van ride, no one could take his or her eyes off of my mom. Di Minh and her children were amazed that my mom was sitting right there next to them. They all fought for her attention. It is unfortunate that I do not have a wide-angle lens for my video camera, because that scene was something else. I did manage to tape streets of Saigon, which actually humbled me. There was a definite sense of culture shock. The poverty level made me realize how good I have it.We made it to Di Minh's house at about noon and pretty much spent the rest of the day making up for lost time. Di Minh whipped out the old photo album and I can see my mom freeze up a little. For the first time in 33 years, she saw never before seen photos of her days in Vietnam. I could tell that my mom was getting emotional because she started to crack jokes. It was really funny. All my cousins and their kids gathered around my mom and her sister as they both told stories of yesteryear. After perusing the photo album, my mom made me whip out my Macbook Pro to show pics of our family. My cousins looked in awe at pictures of my siblings and their kids. They had so many questions, and my mom tried her best to address every single one. We all sat around the table for hours.
At about 5 o’clock, we all went to mass--at the church where I was baptized. When we drove up to the church, my mom stood still for about 2 minutes staring at the steeple. If it hadn’t been for my cousin Trang urging her to keep moving or else we wouldn’t be able to get seat, my mom would have just stood there flipping through the pages of the photo album in her head. My mom then entered the church and quickly noted that, though the décor looked different, this was definitely her church. She then sat at her pew and prayed.It got even more intense when, after mass, my cousins took us to the home where my mom raised us. Like at the church, my mom stood in front of that house completely speechless. She touched the side of the house and quickly launched into the story of how my dad was so annoyed that the neighbors had just built another floor to their house, that he made my mom call the contractors to put up another floor so that she and my dad would have the tallest house on the street! She looked down the sidewalk and noted the bougainvilleas were all gone. She walked up the entrance and recounted the story of how a communist officer pulled her out of her that house one night and took her in for interrogation, right before the planned escape. My parents owned a large
German Shepard, and when this officer saw the dog, he interrogated my mother about her involvement with the US. He grilled her, insinuating that these types of dogs were used by the Americans to hunt down the Viet Cong in the jungles. My mom stood her ground and insisted that this dog was the family pet, and after about two hours, the officer sent her home. She sent that German Shepard to live with my grandfather, and five days later, she and her family made our first attempt at escape. After telling that story, my mom walked hand and hand with Di Minh across the street. I left them alone.By about 9pm Saigon time, we were both so jetlagged that my mom begged Di Minh to let us check into our hotel. My aunt was offended that we wouldn’t stay at her home, but my mom convinced her that I needed my air-conditioned room and internet access! I guess I shouldn’t complain, because it is true. My mom and I left Di Minh’s and when we got to our hotel, we both crashed.
Mode Of Transportation In Saigon
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
The mode of transportation in Saigon is via scooter, which the Vietnamese people refer to as "Honda." There is a 150% luxury tax for every automobile sold in Vietnam, hence only the well to do own cars. Everyone else drives around on scooters, which is quite a sight. Imagine the Boston Marathon, but instead of people running, it's a swarm of scooters fighting for a spot on the pot hole filled roads of Saigon. There are no traffic rules in Vietnam, so one must do what he or she has to in order to survive. Amazingly enough, even with no traffic laws, the people of Saigon do manage to make it through traffic unscathed.
When my cousin Dai informed me that I would be riding as a passenger on his Honda, I smiled and quickly cracked a joke about how I do not have double A and a V (that would be The Automobile Association of Vietnam!). I thought he was kidding! However, when he handed me a helmet, I realized that he was serious. He told me to put it on and then to hop onto the back seat. I placed the helmet onto my head and tried to squeeze into it. No luck. So, I asked my cousin Dai if he had a bigger sized one. He looked quite perplexed. He responded that that was an adult sized helmet. My other cousins started to laugh and muttered something along the lines of Americans having big heads. Fortunately, someone managed to find a helmet that fit my rather large cranium. I couldn't buckle the strap though, so I left it hanging. I then hopped on said a quick prayer. There are no seat belts on a scooter, so I held on to dear life.
To my surprise, my mom jumped onto the back seat of another cousin's scooter! I just figured my old lady of a mother would be taking a taxi in to town, but I was wrong! Mama put on a helmet and wrapped her arms around her driver like an old pro. I just couldn't picture my mom riding around on a scooter like that, so I whipped out my camera and started snapping away. This was probably not the smartest thing to do, as I had difficulties keeping my balance. Also, there are plenty of pick pocketers in Saigon, so having my camera out was clearly an invitation to rob me. Nonetheless, I needed this shot to prove to everyone back home that Mama really did this, so I risked theft and death. Check it out:Scenes From Saigon
Thursday, March 13, 2008
I still cannot get over the humidity of Saigon. When I first stepped off the plane, my sweat glands unleashed the flood gates, and a tsunami of perspiration came crashing through my pores. I should have listened to my friend Dan when he told me that it would be hot in Vietnam. A few days before my trip, he and I went to Old Navy to stock up on travel clothes, and he asked me why I was picking out long sleeved shirts. I responded that someone had said that it is spring time in Vietnam and that the temperature would be in the 70's. I figured that wouldn't be hot enough to warrant an Old Navy bag full of t-shirts. Well, I was wrong. Vietnam is indeed in the 70's, but in Celsius and not Fahrenheit!!! In any case, it is a little cooler today.
My mom and I decided to check out Ben Thanh Market, a huge marketplace in District 1 of Ho Chi Minh City today. We weren't looking for anything particular, we just wanted to check the place out. My cousins Trum Anh and Trang met us at our hotel and took us on a little mini tour of District 1. It's really nice having locals show you around. We had breakfast at a little hole in the wall where my meal cost a whopping $2. I ordered a bowl of bún thịt nướng (grilled pork over vermicelli) and a plate of gỏi cuốn (Vietnamese spring rolls). I really am a sucker for these two dishes. The four of us walked around the city. My mom noted that so much has changed in 33 years that she really couldn't remember all the intricate details of Saigon, but there definitely little things here and there that jogged her memory. Below are some scenes from Saigon.
After a full day out on the town, we scootered back to Di Minh's place for dinner. Once again, the stories of yesteryear surfaced. Everyone was still so enamored by my mom, and all they wanted to do was ask more and more questions. My cousins just couldn't get enough of my mom. You see, there is a reason why there is so much love and respect for her: my mom practically raised Di Minh's kids before escaping Vietnam in 1975. Di Minh was so poor that my mom took her kids in. We all sat around the dining table listening to my mom's stories, laughing and having a good time. My mom is pretty good with impromptu, and she rarely misses a beat. However, my cousin Dai caught her completely off guard when he revealed that every year during Christmas time, all of them would wait by the mail box for my mom's package. He said that their family had very little, so when Di Yen would send presents, everybody would be so happy. Those little gifts made the difference in their hard lives. I always knew that my mom would send money to Di Minh every year, but I had no idea that she sent trinkets to every single one of my cousins. After Dai shared this, my mom completely fumbled. She had to take a deep breath, pause, and gather her thoughts. A few seconds later, she resumed her story telling.The cab ride back to the hotel was very quiet. I know there were a lot of things running through my mom's head. She just sat in the back seat motionless and expressionless. I asked her if everything was ok and she said that she was just a little tired. I took that response at face value.
Two Nuns And A Frog
Friday, March 14, 2008
It would be crime not to have phở in Vietnam, so I ordered myself a bowl this morning at a little dive by our hotel. I believe my mom ordered a bowl as well, but her's was chicken. I prefer the beef. This phở definitely had a different taste than what I am usually accustomed, but it it really did hit spot. I paid $15,000 for that phở. That's a whopping $1 US.We spent today visiting family members whom my mom has not seen in over thirty years. Because Di Minh tagged along, we decided to get a taxi cab rather than scooting around Saigon. Personally, I like being on the back of Honda because it's more of an adventure, but being in a cab suits me fine, thanks to the air conditioner. We visited three of my mom's first cousins today, two of whom are nuns. There seems to be quite a bit of cloistered folks in my family. The cab driver schlepped us around Saigon, and one by one, we visited these relatives. I have an interesting anecdote for each visit.
One Second:
The cab pulled up to the convent where my Aunt, Di Thanh Ngoc, lives. Di Minh saw her pulling out of the driveway. My cousin Trang shouted, "Di Thanh Ngoc! Di Thanh Ngoc!" My aunt turned around, saw Trang, and instructed her xe om (this is Vietnamese for someone who drives customers via Honda, sort of like the taxi driver for scooters) to pull over. The driver stopped, and Di Thanh Ngoc got off. She smiled at Di Minh and Trang, and then looked straight into my mom's eyes and said, "Bach Yen!" She knew right away who my mom was. One second later and my mom would have missed seeing this cousin.
Frogger:Getting to my aunt Di Bong was like a game of Frogger. Di Bong lives on a very busy narrow road. Scooters, bicyclists, and cab drivers are on this dirt road every single minute of the day. There are no stop signs, yield signs, or traffic lights, so every pedestrian had to fend for him or herself when trying to cross. The street is only about 10 feet wide, but it did take us about 10 minutes to make it across. Can you picture two old ladies dodging traffic trying to get to the other side of the road? One wrong move, and my mom and Di Minh would have been squashed like the little frog who couldn't make it to his lily pad. When we finally made it across the street, the first thing out of Di Bong's mouth was, "Quang Khoi is so skinny." I can only assume that this was Vietnamese sarcasm. Do I look unusually large in the photo below?
Bars In The Convent:Don't be mislead by the title of this third anecdote. "Bars In The Convent" does not refer to happy hour at the Our Lady of Inebriated Hope. The bars, in this case, refer to the prison like manner in which we visited my aunt, Di Thu Huong. Apparently, this convent is so cloistered, that a wall must be kept between the the nun and the visitor. I really felt like I was visiting a criminal at San Quentin, which is really odd because across from me is a nun! My mom explained that this is actually actually toned down, because back in the day, they actually put up a curtain so you can't see the nun. You could only talk to them. My mom was very happy that the church loosened up, because she was able to see Di Thu Huong's face.
I can clearly see joy radiating from my mom. She was smiling ear to ear all day today. Today wasn't as emotionally charged for her as when she first landed in Saigon and reunited with Di Minh, but it certainly made her feel good to reconnect with relatives whom she deeply cares about.The Dê Factor
Friday, March 14, 2008
I thought I knew Vietnamese cuisine, but there's so many things here that I've never seen before. I really do want my Vietnam experience to be as authentic as possible, so I will jump in and try as much as my digestive tract can handle. Tonight, I feasted on a meal that would earn me brownie points on Fear Factor. Before I divulge what exactly it is that I ate, I'd like to give a background story.
The question I get every time here in Vietnam is that of why I am not married and have a family yet. When I tell them that I am currently unattached, I get the same reaction, and that is of confusion. After I explain that I like being a bachelor in America, my relatives try to convince me that I am wrong and immediately give me a list of Vietnamese women whom they would like me to meet. I kid you not.
In any case, my cousin Dai surmised that the reason why I have not been able to get married and have a family is because I lack what is called "the dê factor." Please bear with me as I attempt to tell this story because my Vietnamese vocabulary is somewhat limited. I am fairly certain that I will be mixing up some of these words, so for all you Vietnamese folks out there, I apologize in advance. The term "dê," roughly pronounced "yay" in English, is a goat. Dê is also a homophone for the act of being perverted. I know there is a better translation out there, but I'm doing the best that I possibly can here. My understanding from Dai's explanation is that in order for me to find a wife and start a family, I need to have that "dê factor." So, he invited me to dine on this aphrodisiac so that I would be able to find the love of my life. I was hesitant at first, but I figured why not, let's be a little adventurous. Who's knows, I may fine my "em yeu" out of this.
I got to the restaurant, and the waiter brought out a few different plates of meat. Dai explained that each plate was a different part of the goat. I quickly interrupted him and asked me to tell me no more. I figured the less I know the better off I would be. I picked up my chopsticks and picked up a piece from the first dish. I chewed and I chewed, and I chewed some more. The piece of goat was so rubbery, I thought I was chewing on a rubber band. I also couldn't really make out a taste. I just figured everything tasted like chicken, but this was definitely not the case. I chewed for about three minutes when I realized that this mastication process was taking so long that I decided to just swallow the damn goat. As I forced the piece of meat down my trachea, I began to feel my gag reflex start up, so I quickly grabbed my Coco Cola and pushed everything down with it. Dai and the rest of my cousins watched me as I took that first bite. After I successfully swallowed that piece, I tried every other plate on the table. After I sampled each one, I asked Dai what exactly it was that I had just consumed. His response:
- Plate #1: Goat thigh.
- Plate #2: Various goat parts marinated in goat blood (picture at the top of this blog).
- Plate #3: Goat nipples.
After dinner, I asked Dai when the dê factor would kick in. He said instantly. I'm still waiting... Today I Will Go Fishing
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Earlier today at the Saigon airport, I had to race to the ticket counter to do a last minute check-in of a bag. My mom stressed out and started to rush me, as we only had five minutes until boarding. She said that even with my recovering bum foot, I was faster than three old ladies, so I had to hurry. I ran to the ticket counter with my mom's bag and approached the ticket agent, a young Vietnamese lady clad in a blue áo dà, the traditional Vietnamese dress. I took a deep breath, quickly fumbled through the English-Vietnamese dictionary in my head, and said in Vietnamese, "I'd like to check this bag in. There is some hairspray in it. The other ticket agent had said it was ok to have this item in the bag, but the security officer upstairs begged to differ." The ticket agent smiled at me and said it was alright. She then asked where I was from. I responded, and she said, "You speak Vietnamese with a very odd accent...but it's very...cute." At that point, I flashed a smile and she giggled. She asked what my Vietnamese name was and I responded "Quang Khoi." She then said, "What a handsome name for a handsome gentleman." I think the dê factor finally kicked in!
Hue
Sunday, March 16, 2008
My mom, Di Minh, Di Minh Nguyet, and I are now in Hue. I really do like it much more that Saigon. It is calm and quiet in Hue, whereas in Saigon it's crowded and polluted. My mom is very happy to be here. We got lucky when we met a decent cab driver named Thuan to agreed to be our personal driver for our stay in Hue. I'm usually skeptical about these kinds of situations, but I could tell that this guy was decent, and my mom and Di Minh Nguyet could too. Thuan drove us into town and we checked into a nice hotel for a whopping $22 a night. Since it was cheap, I told my mom that I would get my own single room, and I did. It's nice to be able to blast the air conditioner all night long without having Di Minh freeze up like a popsicle. My aunt is sickly, not like my mom, so I didn't want to risk any chances.
My mom has very big plans in Hue. We are in her childhood home, so I can only imagine what's running through her head right now. We do have a full itinerary planned, so it is best to get a good night's sleep now, so that we will be ready for tomorrow's activities. Before I sign off, I will post some random pictures of Hue.
Memory Lane
Sunday, March 16, 2008
My sister Diane is very good with emotion management, and it is at times like this that I wish she were around. Today was perhaps the most emotionally charged for my mother, and at times, I witnessed her wipe tears away from her eyes. Being in Hue triggered so many memories of her childhood and young adulthood. Every object, landmark, and or place reminded her of some thing from her past. This ride down memory lane, at times, was very difficult, but by the end of the day, my mom did let out a sigh of relief.
Jeanne D'Arc School:
Our first stop was my mom's elementary school, Jeanne D'Arc, in Hue. The school's name has changed, but the building still stands. From behind the gate, she saw the kids line up which really made her smile.
Dai Phat Thanh Hue:
Dai Phat Thanh Hue is the radio station in which my mother performed. She was a bit expressionless when we drove up to this building. I'm actually not sure what was running through her head at that time. I really couldn't tell what emotion was lurking around in her head.
Ba Noi's House:
Amazingly enough, my great grandmother's home is still standing in Hue. We stopped by to take a look, and I could see my mom's demeanor slowly change. She stood on the side walk and just stared into the entrance. She then turned to me and pointed to the window near the door and said, "That's where Ba Di Doc Binh, your great great aunt, use to beat me."
Phuc Cam:
This church is where my mom worshipped as a child. She instantly noticed that the choir section had moved to the lower level. If she could, I'm sure she would have stepped up to the plate and sing the Halleluja.
Soeur Cephas:
Can you believe that my mom's high school teacher is still alive? Can you believe that after 50 years, she still remembered her prized pupil? Believe it or not, this is very true.
Cha Binh:
Cha Binh, another relative that my mom hasn't seen in over 30 years. These reunions really are a lot of fun to watch.
Our Lady of La Vang:
My mom is a very spiritual person, and when our cab driver said that he could take her to the Our Lady of La Vang shrine, I thought my mom was going to have heart attack. This is the site of the Minor Basilica of Our Lady of La Vang, a Roman Catholic sanctuary, commemorating a vision of the Blessed Virgin Mary that was seen there in 1798. When we arrived, my mom went to every Virgin Mary statue and prayed. She was definitely in complete awe. Later in the cab, she said that she never ever thought she would ever see Our Lady of La Vang, and to have had this opportunity was priceless.
En route back to our hotel, I heard my mom tell Di Minh that this was the best day ever.
Thit Cay
Monday, March 17, 2008
This picture is so disturbing that I wasn't going to post it on Blogged Arteries: The Unrendered Files. However, my friend Dan convinced me not to censor my blogs. "Thit Cay" is dog meat. A lot of dives in Vietnam have signs advertising this delicacy. I managed to snap this shot as we drove by one place.
Thien Thai Mountain
Monday, March 17, 2008
For 50 years, my mom only had fragments of her past, but returning to her childhood home of Hue brought back the full picture. Yesterday's journey through history proved to be quite emotional for my mother, but today she reached the pinnacle. For the first time this trip, I witnessed my mother break down. She didn't cry, but I could clearly feel the heaviness in her heart as she stiffly stood in front of her parent's tombstone. My mom was orphaned at a very young age and was sent to live with an abusive aunt. She has very few memories of her mom and dad, but the ones that she did recollect reappeared as she prayed for them at their grave. My mom explained to me that this grave site was special in that it wasn't just her parents, but all of our ancestors. Apparently, my family had our own cemetary plot in Hue, but the Viet Cong took that land away. They forced my family to remove the remains from there. My family dug up my mom's great parents, grand parents, and parents' remains and transported them to this new site, Thien Thai Mountain, where they now can rest in eternal peace. There is a sense of ease for my mom now. She was finally able to pay respect to the parents, grandparents, and great grand parents whom she never knew.
Exploring Hue
Monday, March 17, 2008
I told my mom that I wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon exploring Hue on my own. This way, this gives her, Di Minh, and Di Minh Nguyet the opportunity to spend quality time together without me hanging around. The truth of the matter is that I needed a break from the intense fluctuation of emotions that my mother is experiencing. I need some time on my own to process everything that has happened this past week. There are still many things that I cannot fully comprehend, but hearing my mom tell her story really does make things a little clearer. For now, though, I need to clear my head and prepare for our return to Saigon. Below are some shots from my two hour Hue excursion by foot.
Banh Khoai
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
I had banh khoai, a variation on banh xe, the Vietnamese crepe, for breakfast this morning. Think of banh khoai as the Vietnamese taco. According to Wikipedia, this meal is described as "made out of rice flour with tumeric, shrimps with shelves on, slivers of fatty pork, sliced onions, and sometimes button mushrooms, fried in one or two teaspoons of oil, usually coconut oil, which is the most popular oil used in Viet Nam. It is eaten with lettuce and various local herbs and dipped in Nước chấm or sweet fermented peanut butter sauce. Rice papers are sometimes used as wrappers to contain banh xeo and the accompanying vegetables." My mom says that banh khoai is a staple of Hue and that I had to try it. I've never had this dish before, and now I'm hooked.
I'm back in Saigon now. I swear, 10 days is not enough for Vietnam. We pretty much lost one full day traveling back and forth between Hue and Saigon. My mom and I have already made plans to return next year, but we would definitely stay more than 10 days. While at the airport earlier, my mom had a paranoid attack. She and I were looking at old photos of her back in the day, and she reminisced about the time an American C.I.A. agent in Vietnam courted her before she met my father. My mom cheerfully told me the story of how this American had a little dog whom my mom fell in love with. All of a sudden, in mid story, my mom abruptly stopped talking. She looked into my eyes and whispered, "I can't talk anymore. I'm afraid they may take me away." I assured her that everything was fine, but she still clamored up. It wasn't until after we boarded the plane that she calmed down. She then explained to me that she still fears talking about subjects like this in public, because 35 years ago, she could have been arrested. I assured her that things are different now, but she still chose to drop the subject. I obliged.
My Name Is
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
My mom took Di Minh's whole family out to dinner. I swear, I thought I had a big family with my four older siblings and five nieces and nephews. Di Minh's family outnumber us by five times. I've been blogging so much about this side of my family, but I think I've only posted one or two pictures of my mom's sister, so I think it is now time to post a pic of the clan.
On another note, my cousins and I had a discussion about how Vietnamese names are translated into English. I explained that there is really no rhyme or reason as to how these names are selected. Some people pull names out of hat, some name their kids after movie starts, and some just find an American name that sounds closest to the Vietnamese counterpart. My cousins were quite fascinated by this concept, so they asked me to give them American names. Off the top of my head, I came up with the following:
Anh Dai = Derek
Anh Quy = Quentin
Chi Tram Anh = Trudy
Chi Tran = Julie
Chi Trang = Peggy Paige
Anh Quang = Mango
Anh Chau = Charlie
Chi Thuy = Twyla
Chi Nga = Nellie
Di Minh = Mindy
Di Minh--or rather, I should say my "Aunt Mindy"--and her family have a very good sense of humor. They love their new American names. I'm pretty good at this naming thing. I can't wait until I have kids.
Being Việt Kiều
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Today was my last full day in Saigon, so I told my mom that I wanted to explore the city on my own. I hadn’t had a chance to check out Ho Chi Minh City by foot like I did in Hue yet, so I really wanted to take this opportunity to do so. My mom was cool with this, and ended up going to Di Minh’s house for the day. My cousins were very concerned about me being out and about on my own for fear that the locals would take advantage of my việt kiều ways. I assured them that I would be fine, and that the only thing they should be concerned about is me wilting away under the scorching Saigon sun.
I took a stroll over to Ben Thanh Market to buy some souvenirs for my family and friends. I had about $700,000 in my wallet and I wanted to use as much of it up as possible. I wanted to bring back something uniquely Vietnam, so I stopped at a hat kiosk in hopes of finding nón lá, the traditional cone shaped Vietnamese hat. As I browsed the selection, I heard the two female vendors tell each other to try to make a sell, but to be firm with the price. I also heard them snicker about me, wondering where I was from and how much to spend. I could have let these two ramble on, but instead I smiled and interrupted with a simple, "Easy there, I understand everything you're saying." With that admission, the two female venders' expressions suddenly changed and smiles lit up their faces. "You speak so well for a việt kiều, we're so surprised!" With that, I turned on the Quang Khoi charm and engaged in small talk. I spent the next 20 minutes picking out hats and telling tales of life in America. Of course, they inquired about my love life, and like with everyone else, I declared that I was a bachelor. The younger of the two then turned up the flirting a few notches. That dê factor reared its horny head once again! When it was time to pay, the older vendor gave me all my merchandise for a fraction of their asking price, and I didn't have to do any bargaining.
After purchasing all my hats, I wandered about Ben Thanh Market and came across a DVD/CD kiosk. I stood at the counter for about three five minutes flipping through a box of bootleg DVDs waiting for someone to approach me so I could start the bargaining, but I received absolutely no customer service. I looked up and asked the vendor in Vietnamese what the cost was per disc, and she gave me a look of sheer surprise. She responded that she thought I just another việt kiều and that she wasn't really in the mood for a broken English/broken Vietnamese haggling session. We engaged in a little bit of small talk, and after I picked out my stack, she gave me a good price. After that transaction, I realized that I finished all my shopping and decided to head back to my hotel.
I've been told by many Vietnamese people in the states that being a việt kiều in Vietnam can be a negative thing. The stigma is that Vietnamese people who have left their home country for the US return with the attitude that they are better. Many return to Vietnam to flaunt their wealth, an act which is not received well by the natives. In addition, it is frowned upon when a việt kiều cannot speak Vietnamese. I said it once, and I'll say it again, my mom did an excellent job in forcing me to speak Vietnamese at home when I was a kid. I never really fully realized it until this trip, but my firm grasp of my native tongue truly defines who I am. This certainly separates me from other việt kiều, something that makes me so damn proud. Below are some pics from my day at Ben Thanh Market.
The Last Supper
Thursday, March 20, 2008
My sister Nathalie has been keeping up with my Vietnam escapade via Blogged Arteries: The Unrendered Files. She emailed me earlier and said that she "thoroughly and truly enjoyed all the pics and commentary! So do the girls!" I caught her online and filled her in on the areas of the trip that wasn't covered in the blog. She asked me if we had the chance to visit her old elementary school. I responded no, but I'd ask my mom about it. My mom had no idea where the Dong Duc Ba Regina Mundi School was, and furthermore, she didn't know if it still existed. Because of this, the two of us were pretty much convinced that we wouldn't be able to visit this historical landmark in our family. However, with a couple of hundred thousands of (Vietnamese) dollars and a lot of charm, my mom managed to locate this school with the help of a local cab driver.
I wonder how much of Dong Duc Ba Regina Mundi School my sister Nathalie remembers. Above is a vintage photo of her first grade class. Nathalie is the fourth from the left on the top row. Below is a current picture of the exact spot in which her class picture was taken some 35 years ago. The landscape has changed a little and the building has been retrofitted, but the Regina Mundi School employee who let me in confirmed that the orginal chapel is still there, and that the school children's class portraits are still taken at that exact spot next to the chapel.
Later that night, my mom took the whole family to dinner. My cousins said that since this was our last night in Vietnam, I got to pick the place. I didn't have to think hard about this one, as I had a hankering for banh xeo, the Vietnamese crepe. The whole clan gathered up the Hondas and away we scooted down town Saigon to a quaint little restaurant appropriately called "Banh Xeo."
Then energy was very high, and everybody joked around in celebration. Occasionally, there would be glimpses of sadness, especially when my cousin Tram Anh reminded my mom again of how she is forever indebted to my mother for saving her family's life. I stated in an earlier blog that Di Minh's family would be so happy when they received Christmas gifts from my mom. Apparently, I had misunderstood. Tram Anh clarified that these were survival packages.
After the war, Di Minh's family was so hungry that they only had a few grains of rice to feed the family. They were so poor that they didn't have clothes on their backs. If my mom had not left her house to Di Minh's family, the Viet Cong would have forced them into the jungles of Vietnam to die. I could not believe this when Tram Anh recounted this story. It really sounded like something out of an Oliver Stone movie. I never thought that it could happen to my own family, but it did. Tram Anh started to cry when she revealed that she could never forget that day when that first package arrive. That survival kit contained medicine, clothes, toiletry items, and other products that the family could sell at the market. My mom rolled up hundred dollar bills and stuffed them into tubes of toothpaste. She feared sending money, so she hid the cash. Luckily, the package made it Di Minh in one piece. Here I thought my mom was sending Christmas presents, but in actuality, she rescued this whole family. My mom did not wanted tears at this dinner so simply said, "Please! Stop it with the martyr talk! You're making me feel like a boring old saint!" This outburst garnered laughs across the table, and all talk of sadness got squashed.
This dinner ended on a high note with the dê factor kicking in full force. I won't get into the gory details, but let's just say that this girl was so smitten by me that she approached mom and asked for permission to date me! How funny is that? I'll just leave it at that.
They say that whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, well, the same is true for Vietnam!
Airport Drama
Friday, March 21, 2008 There was a little bit of drama at the airport this afternoon. I'm not going to get into the gory details, but let's just say that my mom thought fast and wiggled out of an uncomfortable situation. She looked straight in my eyes, and without saying anything, I knew she wanted me to play dumb. So I broke into việt kiều mode and spoke English. My mom then told the Saigon airport security that her việt kiều son didn't know what he was doing and asked if he could find it in his heart to let us through. She then slipped him a $20 bill. He took the money and let us through. As we walked away towards the gate, my mom whispered to me, "Damnit. I ran out of $5 bills. That guy didn't deserve $20!"
Mom and I have a long flight ahead of us. We're sitting here at the airport completely parched because we have no money left to buy a bottle of water. Both she and I are beat. In about an hour, we'll be flying to Taiwan and then back to San Francisco. It really has been an amazing ten days in Vietnam, but all good things do come to an end. That time is now.
Home Sweet Home
Friday, March 21, 2008
I spent the past 20 hours traveling across the globe, and now all I want to do is crash on my very own bed and sleep for the next 20 hours. I really do hate sitting on an economy seat for more than half a day, but somehow, this time around it wasn't too bad. Normally, I would just at my seat staring at my computer or trying to fall asleep with my iPod blasting, but this time was different. My mom and I spent the time talking about our journey to Vietnam.
For most of the flight, my mom gushed about what an incredible time she had visiting her childhood home and reconnecting with beloved family members. She reiterated the fact that this trip was so unexpected, as she never had any intention of returning to Vietnam. For 33 years, my mother wondered what it would be like to go back, but she feared that she would only be reminded of the pain and tragedy. For that reason, she stayed far away. She admitted that she was very nervous about this trip, but in the end, she acknowledged that this was the best thing she has done for herself in a very long time. Finally, my mom was able to give her sister the heart felt hug she had been yearning to do so for 33 years. She was able to relive her childhood and say good bye to her parents. Most importantly, my mom was able to find closure and end the unfinished chapters in her life. Every question mark that loomed in her head the past 33 years have finally been removed.
As we crossed the Pacific Ocean and entered our tenth hour in the air, I began to doze off. My mom noticed me teetering off and said she would stop talking so that we both could get some shut eye. I let out a big yawn and closed my eyes. My mom then muttered, "Thank you. Because of you, I was able to do this."
Thank YOU, mom.
The Project
Saturday, March 22, 2008
I'm really supposed to be sitting in my Saturday morning After Effects class right now, but instead, I am lying on my bed barely awake. Jetlag has really hit me hard. I've already missed the last three weeks, so how much damage could a fourth do? Technically, I'm not enrolled in this class, so I don't think the instructor really cares that I am there or not. But then again, I do bring such an effervescent vibe to class that I know he must miss me, right Professor Donn?
I am drawing attention to this because I find it a bit ironic that I've just returned from Vietnam and am missing Evan Donn's class. You see, the reason why my mother and I took this journey back to our home land is because of his Digital Workflow course last semester. As one of my assignments, I had to put together a movie with a war theme. I thought about this and decided to do a piece on my mother. The final product moved her, a reaction that I did not anticipate. She immediately asked me for copies so that she could send to her friends. I knew then that I was on to something, so I spontaneously asked her to take me to Vietnam so I could expand on the project. Within the next few weeks, we booked our plane tickets, and the rest is history.
I had not posted this project for personal reasons. My classmate, Sig Thorsen, kept reminding me that she wanted to see it, but could not find it anywhere on my blog. For some unexplained reason, I was unable to share this piece with the public. I'm really not sure why, but I know I am ready to post it now. My mom and I just went on an incredible journey together, and you all have vicariously joined us via Blogged Arteries: The Unrendered Files. That journey has come to the end, and now is the appropriate time to show the project that triggered this whole thing. I'd like to give a shout out to Evan Donn, because if I had not taken his Digital Workflow class last semester, I would have never went on this trip of self discovery.
On a final note, to all my readers out there, mother's day is coming up. Take a little road trip with your mom. Talk to her. Ask her about her childhood. Inquire about her days before she met your dad. Find out if she has any funny anecdotes or fond memories of her days as a young adult. Believe me, you will learn so much about who you are by knowing who your mom is.
