From: hy@ucsee.Berkeley.EDU (hY tRuOnG lAm)
Subject: [vn-story] Back Home (part 1 of 2)
Reply-To: hy@ucsee.Berkeley.EDU (hY tRuOnG lAm)
Organization: University of California Society of Electrical Engineers (UCSEE)
Date: Thu, 3 Sep 1992 12:53:12 GMT



I went back to Vietnam in June 1991 and stayed there for a month.

				Back Home
			      (Part 1 of 2)


As I stepped down from the airplane, I could immediately feel the tropical
heat burning my skin.  I began to sweat all over, and in five minutes my
dirty T-shirt and ragged jeans were soaked with sweat.  Ho Chi Minh City
(Saigon) was in its rainy season, and there I was, sweating all over.  The
air was so humid that I had a little problem breathing.  However, it was so
amazing that my runny nose became normal the next day.  It must have been the
weather in Vietnam that did it.

     My family rented a car so that we could drive home from the Tan Son Nhat
Airport.  The eight-hour trip through bumpy roads and humid air was much too
long for me.  On the way, we had to cross the large and famous Cuu Long
(Mekong) River, across which no bridge had been built, by ferry.  This ferry
station was known as Bac My Thuan.  We drove the car onto the ferry and it
took more than fifteen minutes to cross the river.

     As we stayed in the car on the ferry, so many homeless and handicapped
children came over, begging for money.  I didn't know what to do.  Should I
give them money?  Yes, but how?  I didn't have Vietnamese money at that time,
and worse yet, I had no idea how to use the money.  I could not just give
them US dollars!  Fortunately, my younger brother had some small change, so
he gave each child 500 Vietnamese dong.  That was the equivalent of about
five US cents!  What could one do with five cents?  Buy a cup of coffee.  A
bowl of delicious noodle soup (pho) cost fifteen cents!

     At first we gave 500 dong to each of the five children, though I thought
a nickel for each child was too little.  Then came five other children asking
for spare change.  Then, five more kids.  Before long, a crowd of children
surrounded the car, asking for money.  Those who had received some came back
for more, and I had no idea what to do.  My younger brother got angry and so
the (hired) driver rolled up the window and we began to ignore the children.
I was somewhat uncomfortable hearing the children beg for money.  We had run
out of small cash.  One little girl came; she had lost her left arm and
carried a little girl with her right arm.  The baby also had lost one eye and
was very skinny and dirty.  As the girl kept on begging for mercy and staring
at me, the little child was crying.

     "Please mister," the girl started begging, "spare me some change.  My
sister is sick and I cannot do anything with one arm but carry my sister.  If
you don't help me, we will die tomorrow or even tonight.  Please mister."

     Oh, those eyes!  My heart was aching.  I miserably looked at my brother
and he gave the girl 1000 dong.  The little sister grabbed the money and the
girl said, "Thank you very much.  May your children live a good life and may
you be blessed."
     
     After she had left, kids rushed over begging for money again!  We
ignored them.

     "Shit.  Damn it," cursed one of the kids in the crowd.  "They gave that
bitch money and not us.  Shit.  They are evil.  They will die someday without
ground to bury their bodies."

     A few minutes later, we reached the other side;  I was glad.  The driver
started the engine and drove off.


We were halfway home when I realized how hungry I was.  I had not eaten on
the airplane because I had been so excited all through the flight from Manila
(Philippines) to Saigon (now called Ho Chi Minh City).  At the moment, all I
wanted was to eat.  We stopped at a restaurant, which was a small hut right
off the highway.

     I walked into the restaurant, exhausted after the long trip.  There, I
was so shocked at the sight of the countless flies on the table where we were
supposed to sit!  Yuk!  I tried not to throw up, but I almost did.  I
pretended I didn't see the flies.  The owner realized I was uncomfortable, so
he immediately turned on the fan to blow the flies away, and then he
carefully washed the table.  I tried to hide my uneasiness.  We sat down.
Five minutes later they brought out the food.  I looked at the food but was
not sure that I wanted to eat.

     The sight of the flies was impressed in my mind, spoiling my appetite.
However, I was so hungry that I decided I would eat a little, as little as
possible, to push back my hunger.  But oh!  The food was so good!!!  It was
much more delicious than it looked.  I forgot about the flies and ate like
a bull.  Never before had I been so greedy at eating!  I was eating with one
hand and chasing flies away with the other.  I ate and ate until I could eat
no more.  I had decided that if the Vietnamese people could eat the food, so
could I.  (The next day I felt sick and who knew what caused it).


When we got to my hometown Nhu Gia, it was dark.  I boasted that I remember
very well the location of our house, so I led the way.  Unfortunately, I
couldn't find the way in the dark because there was no electricity to light
the street.  There was electricity but only available 3 or 4 days a week, I
found out later.  It was so dark that I could barely see my brother walking
next to me!  I got home, greeting and embracing my parents and relatives.  I
laughged, talked, and smiled with tears in my eyes.

     That night I could not sleep at all because I could hardly wait to meet
more of my relatives, friends, and neighbors.  In a small town, everyone knows
each other.  Another reason I couldn't sleep was because the bamboo-frame bed
was so hard.  I was used to my soft bed back in America.  Neither could my
parents sleep.  My mother woke up many times throughout the night to make
sure that I was sleeping tight.  I pretended that I was sleeping like a baby.
I felt like the little boy I was thirteen years before!

     The next morning I woke up late and missed breakfast.  I heard kids, my
nieces and nephews, chatting everywhere.  I decided to skip breakfast so that
I could play with the children for a while.  After that, I stepped out.

     I sat in front of the house watching people walking by.  Suddenly I saw a
guy passed by, staring at me.  I smiled at him, but he turned away quickly.
His face looked familiar to me but I just couldn't figure out who he was.  I
tried to recall every face I knew thirteen years ago, and sudenly I remembered
who he was.  He was one of my best friends whom I thought had died ten
years ago in the Vietnam-Cambodia War.  That was definitely him.  We used to
go fishing and shooting birds all the time.  I wondered why he did not want
to talk to me, his childhood best friend.  Had I known right away who he was,
I would have jumped up and embraced him with joy.  But it was too late for
that.  I decided to sit and wait, hoping that sooner or later he
would return by the same path.  However, an hour had passed and there was no
sight of him.  Then a woman walked up to me.  I recognized her immediately
and greeted her.  She said, "You know Hung, don't you?"

     "Yes, I know him.  He was my best friend!" I answered excitingly.

     "He's at my house and is afraid to talk to you," she told me.  I seized
her hand, and then we walked to her house a few yards away.

There he was, looking at me shyly.  We shook hand and sat down and talked on
and on.  He said, "You know, I saw you but I was afraid to talk to you."

     I asked curiously, "Why not?"

     "What if you forgot me?" he asked me back.  "It would have been really
embarrassing if you didn't recognize me.  Besides, I didn't want people to
think that I want to befriend a rich American."
     
     I felt a little uncomfortable, but I realized that what he just said
was very important.  I hadn't known that he considered me American,
not Vietnamese anymore.  If he did not think I am Vietnamese, I had no doubt
that many other friends of mine would think the same, unless I could prove
to them that I was not.

     I spent hours talking to him.  A little boy approached us, greeting Hung,
"Hi Dad."

     I was shocked to hear that.  "What?  That's your son?  You're married?
Who did you marry?"

     He said, "You know Thu, don't you?"  Oh yes, I knew her.  She was also
a friend of mine.  He continued, "Hy, you don't know a lot about me.  Don't
think of me as I was thirteen years ago."

     "Hung, can you do me a favor?"  I asked.  "I really want to meet our
friends, but I am sure they won't talk to me if I don't approach them first.
I really miss them.  Can you tell them that for me?  Most likely, " point to
the coffee shop across the street, I continued, "I will be sitting over there
drinking coffee everyday."

     "Sure," he answered, "but I don't promise anything.  How about we meet
there tomorrow?"

     "Great!  I can't wait to see them, " I replied.

[to be continued...]