If my dad didn’t illegally leave on a little boat with 50 people, evading sea pirates, starvation and mutiny, would I be in Vietnam delivering ice?
After the Vietnam war, when the North won when the Americans pulled out in 1975, we being in the South had our world turned upside down. We had a washing machine and a fridge, my mom ran a little store, my sisters worked embroidering flowers on dresses. There was food on the table.
Post war, my sister said they rounded up any one opposing the Northern Communist ideology or was part of the Southern government or military and sent them to reform camps where many became ill and perished. They took land and businesses away from people and reset everything according to Northern Communist regime. My sisters said they had to go asking for a cup of rice from neighbours. There was no food, no money. No hope.
I had no idea why I like dried salted fish and rice as an adult. I found out why on this trip. It was because we were so poor, everyone ate rice and as the youngest they gave me the fish.
Tina said she remembered the monks were setting themselves on fire. She would see their bodies in the street. She spoke like it was normal, which it was to her. The thought was too much for me. My sheltered little brain couldn’t comprehend such a sight. She said they taught in schools to watch your neighbours and parents, and to report them for suspicious activities. The indoctrination permeated all society, and you were rewarded for serving the greater Communist good.
My sister Tu said we used to make and sold ice, my dad illegally ran an electrical wire from his work place at the Ba Son Marina to the house. She said it was her job to watch for any police or government officers who was coming our way and she had to go flip this switch. She said it was always too late, they would walk in, turn off the main power supply but our fan was still running! They knew right away we were smuggling electricity. She said she had to get money and bribe the officials. Apparently this happened often on her watch.
My sister Tam and I were sitting now listening to Tu’s story, laughing because it was hilarious. Tam who is 2 years younger than Tu absolutely had no memory of this and I wasn’t even born yet. It’s strange how each family member has their own stories and trauma. The only thing is to laugh and be grateful about it now because it was so painful and overwhelming then. You can not erase the past, but you can see where it has lead you.
What would my sisters be doing today?Would Tu run a fruit stand? Would Tam work in a hair salon? Would Tina run a noodle shop? We really wouldn’t know the answer to these questions. I certainly wouldn’t be typing these words on a travel blog for you to read. I wouldn’t have even met you…
Here are some photos of an ice making shop just a few homes from my birth home. Tu at a durian fruit stand. They ban durians in hotels because of the offensive odour. Tam is standing in her best friend’s hair salon near my birth home.
Also photos of Ba Son Marina, where my dad used to work. It’s no longer a little marina but a huge complex with its own Metro line. You can see the New Years festivity on full display.
Last photos are of downtown still filled with people 5 days after new years. Look at that elaborate stage. Tu and I were in awh!
