We all had to get up early that morning, the flight back to Saigon scheduled for eight thirty. My grandfather and Uncle Vien woke me up, the time being at around five or so. I got around four hours of sleep that night, not nearly the amount that I needed, but just like in college, you just persevere (though I honestly do realize I do need to sleep more). I got up tiredly, washing my face in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and sitting with my grandfather and my uncle. Today about six people were heading to Ho Chi Minh City, my aunt Yen to stay in Ho Chi Minh city for six days. My aunt Ha was also going to meet them there, and also going to stay for six days. My grandfather, aunt Danh, and her son also came along, hoping to meet Aunt Ha and spend a week with them in Ho Chi Minh City. I be honest I've never been able to experience a day in Saigon, only having seen the airport and ate at a restaurant. I will have a day there before I fly back to America though. Anyways, on to this sunny Saturday.
We went up stairs, all of us, to have breakfast. The hotel had a wide spread of Vietnamese foods, all delicious and familiar. I served my grandfather his meal, him asking to choose what I thought he would like. I choose one of everything. He ate it all, saying that it was a good meal, and asked me to get him a glass of hot tea. His health was getting better than before, my family members told me, though he still had pains in the soles of his feet, making it difficult to walk at times due to the pain. I walked him down to the room of the larger group, all of them either out eating at a restaurant outside or getting ready to leave. They ended up finding my sunglasses and money, which to all of our surprise was underneath one of the suitcases the whole time (I have no idea how they ended up there). Nevertheless, I was happy, as was everyone else, and we all hopped into a van and headed towards Phu Bai Airport.
We came with about thirty minutes to spare, saying our goodbyes, and sharing one last drink and meal with those that were leaving. I told my aunt Yen that I would come visit her when I had some free time, though I am not sure when that will be. And so they left, all six of them. The rest of us, about ten, all piled up in the van or ride motorbikes back to Hue. Upon arriving back at that familiar hotel, we called a taxi to take me, my cousins Hung and Kiem, as well as one of my aunts and her baby, back to the home village.
We took that same familiar ride back to the village, seeing the same beautiful and peaceful sights as before, the sand dunes as we rolled under the big entrance gate into Hai Nhuan. Hai Nhuan is part of the Phong Hai commune, a commune of a number of nearby villages, numbering between five to eight (I forget the number). First stop, grandfather's house.
My grandfather's housemaid was there, waiting for me the whole time and asking me if I wanted to eat or drink anything. "Nope, I just need some sleep"I told her, setting my things on the same mattress that I slept on when I first returned to Vietnam. I let out a sigh and relaxed. I was home at last. This morning was rather peaceful, the villagers quiet for the morning, a power outage causing many to stay inside from the intense heat. The heat didn't bother as I slept, just feelings of the comfort of being back enough to allow me to sleep. My uncle Thanh, my dad's older brother, arrived, greeting me, and telling me that he and his sons have been pouring cement for a tomb for the last few days. He was tired, stressed it seemed, his skin dark as ever from working out in the sun. That morning, from about nine to twelve or so, I slept, catching up on the hours I lost the night before.
Before eating, I took a bucket shower, and how refreshing that was. One of the villagers came into the house, noticing that I had returned. She talked to my grandfather's housemaid, who I will now address as Bà (has accent on it which means madam). She told me that she saw me on T.V. the other day, asking me my take on coming back to Vietnam and doing service. This is something that everyone has asked me, making me wonder if they regularly even see Vietnamese come back to do service. Bà told me that my grandfather cried when he saw me on T.V., telling me that most of the village had seen it two days ago. I couldn't help but smile, scratching my head and saying that it was undeserved. Finishing a refreshing lunch, I decided to go visit my uncle Xuyen's house, sitting on his front porch and cooling off with the southern winds. The beach was beautiful, so iconic of my village, but a place that I was not able to go to this day.
I sat on the porch with my uncle Xuyen, his wife, and a child of one of my uncle's sons. I talked about the wedding before, my last two weeks not coming back to Hai Nhuan, and my feelings thus far on Vietnam. I knew there was an internal squabble between the siblings, my aunts and my uncles, but I decided to leave that conversation out of this one. They were happy to see me, telling me that they would buy me food to bring back to my parents when I got back to America. I then threw out the question to my uncle Xuyen about my father's past, especially when my father made the decision to leave Vietnam in 1980. Wow. I learned so much in that thirty minute talk with uncle Xuyen.
Many of them left in my paternal family, my aunts and uncles all hoping to achieve the freedom that they thought would liberate them from the poor life in Vietnam, and give them a brighter future. "Things back then were tough, not like they are now," he told me, "it is still hard, but back then was almost unbearable." He told me about how dangerous the many different routes was to Hong Kong, telling me that they could take between a week to even months, depending on many different factors. "Fuel was always a big concern, food, typhoons, pirates, police, boat stability - anything could happen and did" he told me. In 1980, my father and his siblings decided to make the trip, ran out of fuel after a day and went back to shore to get fuel. Well... they were caught and taken out, beaten, and put into jail. "Your dad told me to run, run far away," my uncle Xuyen told me, "and I did, making it eventually to Saigon, not having to endure three months in jail." Tears, lots of them he told me. The women and men on that boat trying to escape were beaten viciously, he told me, many of my aunts fearing for their lives and crying. He then talked about my father's second attempt in 1991 with my mother. "Your mom was pregnant with you when you went, so you essentially made the journey with all of us" he told me. Goodness... I had never ever been told that, that my mom took the journey pregnant... "Well, how many people took the trip and how did you all make it?" I asked him. "Lots, we got lucky, very lucky," he replied, "many times we almost were overtaken by weather and waves, and we eventually ran out of food, having to stop at a coastal village in China to exchange our gold and valuables for food and oil to continue the journey." "Upon making it near the camp, a nearby ship helped us get over to the camp, a massive hole in the boat threatening to sink and drown all of us" he continued." I couldn't stop him, I needed to hear it all. "Out of all of the siblings in the family, only your father made it out, all of us were sent back to Vietnam," he said, "your father's English was very good, and his knowledge and passion were convincing enough of the immigration authorities to allow him to cross, taking you, your uncle, and your mother with him." At that point, I couldn't help but sit there and think about all the things my father had been through, all the sacrifices, all the pain, but also the brilliance in him that allowed him to successfully immigrate us to the U.S. Before I could ask more, my uncle Xuyen got some important phone calls from a friend, which prompted me to say goodbye to the family and head back to my grandfather's house.
Bà said that she was going to Saigon with my Uncle Xuyen, saying that I had about three hours until the trip, and that I would have to find another place to sleep. My cousin Vi, daughter of my uncle Phong (my dad's younger brother), came up with her brother to visit me, asking me about how my trip was and inviting to come hang out with the family for the day. I agreed, though did not leave quite yet, Vi having to drive her brother to day school. Some daughters of the nearby households came over, all wanting to hang out in my grandfather's house and talk to me. And so we did, playing little games,. joking about everything, and playing with anything we could find. After about thirty minutes of waiting, Nhan, another daughter of my uncle Phong arrived, ready to take me to their house. I waved the children and Bà goodbye, taking my things along with me.
It was relaxing and fun, the rest of the day with the three children of Uncle Phong. The eldest daughter, Bong, had arrived in America a year ago, actually living in my household for a short period of time before moving off to somewhere else. Vi is deciding to attend the Hue University of Foreign Languages, ultimately to attend a college in Japan, her birthplace. "I am currently studying Japanese in order to apply to programs overseas to allow me to study at a University there," she said, "I want to work and live there when I get older." Her older sister, Nhan, around my age as well, is currently in her second year of the Hue College of Nursing, hoping to work at a hospital in Hue after her studies. Their younger brother of the family is currently about to start high school, going to school in a nearby commune. They were excited to see me, telling me that they saw me on television the other day, and heard plenty about me. We talked about our families, the squabbles between the siblings (our parents), and about what they did on their free time in the summer. "You know what," said Vi, "let's go out tonight, all of us, eat some food, go to a cafe, and eat more food." I agreed, and so for that night, we went everywhere, the four of us, trying at least eight different kinds of food and spending a short while at a cafe.
I slept in their house that night, staying in the room with the air conditioning, typing away and reading until one in the morning. Man, I need to sleep more...
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