Escape from Vietnam 1976

We went to the port the morning of our escape from Viet Nam to America and after much trying to overcome with much dilemas, we finally gotten on the ship by almost mid-night.  After a night and most of the next day, we thought we would be in Saigon, but when the ship arrived there, news was that Saigon
was too crowded with poeple from other cities;  Therefore, we must go to an island called "Phu Quoc".

We got to Phu Quoc and we were all put in an area with  guarded since they don't know which one among us was truly South Vietnamese or spy from communist regime that mixed in with the people. That first day was not easy for us to find food. There were people who lives there tried to help passing out water and food. Since my father was so sick, my oldest sister was pregnant, my brother in law took my two older sisters with him to go get water and food.  We had lived in a guarded family, well taken care of by my parents, and to  go fight with other people to get food and water was very frightening to us all. Any how, later, my brother in law came back with a pale of water and my sisters got one bag of rama noodle.  Eventhough, my father was ill, he and my mom refused to eat, they say for us to share that dinner since we needed more than they do...especially my pregnant sister. We managed to cook the noodles with alot of water so we can drink the broth to filled our  stomach...we stayed on that island for about two weeks and things did get better as we get more familiar with the people there.  My family end up get to go to Saigon, but that was a different journey among many of our journeys until we get to the United States.

I can never forget or ever want to forget those hard times, because it help me to appreciate my parents love for us, it's a love that nothing can be compared to. As a parent  now, I understand what they did and what it meant to sacrifice for your children's happiness and well. I am sure any parents who loves their children will  know what it means too.

Tribute to My Mother

My mom's health is getting worse every day, and she is not much herself anymore.  It saddened me to see how she has aged.  I remember how sharp she was in helping my dad raise us and in making many decisions at the last minute.

The morning we had an emergency evacuation from the town we were staying because the communist regime was moving in closer.  It was such a chaotic morning, people were running on the street tried to find ways to leave town.  My father was so ill at the time, and if it weren't for a close friend of my dad to come help us go to the port, we all would have stayed behind and my dad would have been killed.

We all got on his truck and realized my little brother was not there.  We were all panic and I can see
my mom's eyes were full of distress. The guns fire were getting closer and all the road to Saigon had
been closed. The sea was the only way out. My brother -in-law told us to all to go the port ahead and
he will go find my brother. My dad was so sick and almost unconscious. My mom had to make the
decision to let my brother in law go and chance to lose them both forever or we were all to stay behind
and face whatever comes. Within a minute she had to weigh between the lives of the family. She let
my brother-in-law left looking for my brother and we all went on our way. Mom cried so hard that I
thought she could die.  In the end, my brother-in-law found my younger brother and met up with us.

I have my own family now and in making daily decisions. I can't help but admire and respect my
mom for being such a strong person in taking care of her family. I realize now how hard it was  for
my mom then to make such decisions. We all want what's best for our children.  I love you Mom!

Teaching My Children to Appreciate

Summer break had just started and my children are home from schools.  Today I watched them gone shopping and come home with some new summer clothes. How wonderful for them to have such privilege.  I hope they appreciate the opportunity to have it. It reminded me of my first year here in the United States.

At fourteen, I came here with nothing brought from Viet Nam for we rushed out of the country on the very day South Viet Nam falls into the hands of Communist North Viet Nam. We left everything behind, our beloved relatives, our home and everything my parents had worked so hard all their life.  I learned the first lesson of how expensive freedom is. We started our lives here with the help from our sponsor. We spoke very little English and felt very lost. We have experienced many difficulties but I wanted to write about my first humuliation and lesson in value.

Since we have lost everything and we first need food and clothing.  Our sponsor brought us donated clothes from the people in the community.  I have picked out a few clothes that would fit me and wore them that fall to go to school.  I accidently heard one of the young girl in the school told her friends while pointing at me and saying that the clothes I had on are from her and her friends in the community.

Just like with many other difficulties we had encountered, I learned to swallowed any pride I had at fourteen; eventhough,  I was so sad inside my young heart, I felt like crying but I held my head high and told myself that that young girl didn't mean any harm and for me to have better life again, I would have to try harder, my first thing to do is to learn English if I want to succeed in this country.

Many years later, I told  my children this experience in hoping they will learn to appreciate life better.  The year my first child was in her eighth grade, my husband and I had joined this church in helping the new refugees who just came from Viet Nam, our daughter had a clothing drives from school and donated them  to the church that we were helping, she told us she did this from hearing my story over and over for so many years and she wanted to let us know that she was listening and she also  learned how to value and appreciate life.

My Dad's Memorial Celebration

It's time to have a memorial for my father again.  It's been eight years since he has passed away.  I can still see the tender in his eyes when he looked at me when I come to visit.  All of us siblings and grand children gathered at his grave  after church on Sunday.

We say prayers, talk to dad regarding what happened to us for this past year, who's engaged, get married, have babies, graduation etc... just like when he was still with us;  afterward, we all went to my brother's home and have lunch, we also watch video of dad so that we can remind the younger members of the family of who he was and never forget him.

This is a tradition that we always celebrate to remember our ancesters.  I cherish this tradition because
it reminds me of who I am and where I came from, and also to help my children always know who
they are, too.

Education in Vietnam: Pen Pals from Different Grades

In Viet Nam at the time I was there, we had school either in the morning or afternoon, not all day like here.
I had the afternoon during my seventh grade year, because of this arrangement, the students came up
with a trend to meet the other student who sat at the same spot by writing notes and hide it in the
drawer of  the desk.  My school was all girls so I had an eleventh grader as my pen pal and  her name was Thuy.  We shared many things from dilemmas to dreams.  I benefitted, I think, because I was able
to ask for help with school work and ideas.  Her focus was more of dreams to have better life in the future.

We have written to each other everyday for almost a year, but I did not have the courage to go see her because I was younger and did not know what to do. School year is  near the end, one evening I decided to ride my bike to her neighborhood with the address she gave me. 

Where she lived was kind of out of the city zone, small houses were cluttered together.  The area was not what I have imagined in my young head but I was determined to find out about her.  I biked down the long dirt -gravel road to the front of this house, I call it a house but actually it was just a few poles standing and they have thick carton shelter around it, and I think inside rooms were separated by long thick  pieces of  curtains.  I walked around to the side and saw a young lady washing her hair. She looked up, saw me and froze. So did I.  Then she stood up, turned her back to me and said I should not have come.

She knew what I looked like from coming to school one afternoon with her friends. I told her that I wanted to meet her for knowing that next year we may not sit at the same spot.She told me she wanted me to leave, she didn't want me to see her, and  from the back I knew she was crying. I wanted to hug her, but instead I left because I was in tears too.  My heart was so heavy because I knew why she did not want to meet me.  Half of her face was wounded and scars badly. 

She wrote me one last note explaining that she was embarassed of how she looked because she was injured during a bombing attack at her old hometown when she was younger. She also lost her father. That's why her mom moved the  family to the city but by the summer they will move back home to live with

her grandparents.  They could not survive here at the city. She did not think I would come looking for her.

That's was the last time I heard from her.  She never wrote again but what she put in the "P.S." of  her letter  is what made me sad was  that "Did I know the lady who sell breakfast food in the basket, who had provided  my siblings and I breakfast most every morning was her mom?"

By Michael Posner, Assistant Secretary for Democracy, Human Rights and Labor at Department of State

The United States will remain diligent in pursuing progress on human rights in our high-level engagement as we pursue a wide array of security, economic, and strategic interests with Vietnam. In our discussions with the Vietnamese government, we emphasize that progress on human rights, including the release of political prisoners and freedom of religion, is a necessary part of improving United States-Vietnam relations. Secretary of State Clinton raised our human rights concerns with President Sang when they met at the November 2011 Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) meeting in Honolulu, Hawaii. U.S. Ambassador to Vietnam David Shear has raised similar concerns in all of his high-level meetings since arriving in Vietnam last August, and he and the Mission regularly engage Vietnamese government officials, nongovernmental organizations, and other individuals as part of our Government's commitment to promote greater respect for human rights in Vietnam.

Vietnamese Torture South Vietnamese Protesters

As we all know, currently Viet Nam does not have much freedom of anything, especially freedom of speech or to express how you feel. 

There is a big movement going on now among the Vietnamese community inside Viet Nam and also here in the United States. We, all the people who believe in freedom are fighting for those who lives in Viet Nam, who  had expressed their feeling toward the goverment of Viet Nam of betraying their own people by giving in to China's requests and actions.  Those people were put in jail for many years, some had been released and have become very ill because of all the beating and torturing; some are still in jail and there is no justice whatsoever. 

Recently this one young man named Viet Khang, had written two songs and sang them himself. The songs were his way of protesting what Viet Nam government are doing to the country's land and its people.  He was captured and  is now in jail.  That's why we are having this petition  here in the United States, collecting signatures from everybody, so we can have a chance to meet with President Obama and the House to ask for help in giving back those people and Viet Khang their freedoms. We were asked by the White House for twenty five thousand signatures for them to be able to considering for us to meet the President.

As of today, we are far exceed from that numbers, last I heard is that we have over ninety five thousand signatures and still going strong till the dead line of March 05.  This is an overwhelming numbers.  I am a Vietnamese who believes in freedom and who loves my Viet Nam, I am glad I had this opportunity to do something for my people. 

I am hoping any of you, who see this and believes in freedom for all people, please do offer your signature for the release of those Vietnamese who are fighting for the freedom and security of Viet Nam by their own life.Thank you all.Thank you Viet Khang, a young person but his patriotism  is an act we all should follow.Chinese Torture South Vietnamese Protesters

Where is the Integrity of Vietnam?

Does Vietnam have any integrity at all?


A woman poisoned her husband with heartbreak grass because after he invited two friends over to get drunk, she saw a quick way to stop his drinking and beating on her forever.  Why is a woman and her children beaten regularly and community members come to the house and drink with the abusive husband for pleasure?


Poisonous porridge has become popular in Ha Gaing. Why would people in the area be attracted to a dish called "poison" and why would they risk eating something that if prepared incorrectly could kill? 


In my childhood, when we were still South Vietnam, we used our exotic gifts for their medicinal value, but not for excitement. 

We ate fish and chicken with herbs such as lemongrass, picked fresh coconuts and oranges off our own fruit trees. Snake has its place as a medicinal remedy and otherwise as a respected if not feared part of our local habitat. The same Burmese python recently outlawed for shipment from foreign cultures to the U.S., was a natural wildlife of our playground near the rice fields or by the Lai Gaing River.

I do remember one time when someone in my family ate snake but not as a gourmet food nor even as a meal. Thac's face broke out in horrible acne when we lived in Qui Nhon. She had always been the prettiest of my family, with beautiful eyes and skin. Because she felt the break out so ugly, Thac began hiding half her face behind her hair. One of my uncles on my mother's side came for a visit. When he saw saw Thac, he said, "I know how to fix that." When he left he said, "I'll be back soon with a cure."

Several weeks later, he returned with a pot of cooked meat stew. Uncle said to Mother, "Don't tell her what it is."

After Thach had eaten all she could hold, she asked, "Well, what is in this?"

"Snake meat," is all my uncle said. Thach groaned loudly.

Within two days, a miracle happened. Thach's face returned to her clear beauty.

One day, I hope our lost culture can still be saved.

Tet Offensive

At this time of year, it is impossible not to think of the Tet and the battles that occurred on or around January 30, 1968. Previously the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese Army had not worked together in the war against South Vietnam. During this horrifying sequence, the North took several of our cities, later to be won back by the U.S. and South combined forces. As we fought to drive the North out of our land, we began to lose ground.

This segment of the battle to win back Hue was to be named the Massacre at Hue. Thousands of South Vietnamese were executed and 100, 000 of their homes lost as the North vindictively desecrated them one by one with bombs. Both the North and the South had agreed to ceased fire during the three days of Tet so people could celebrate, but the North did not keep their promise and attacked Hue and other cities nearby. Though these cities were all recovered, Hue was destroyed forever.

This is the saddest time of the war for all of my people. So many lives were lost unnecessarily. Though the war should have seemed winnable at this point, losing all these lives and all the destruction made us feel disspirited and made many feel they had no home in Vietnam.

Deceit of Party Leaders in Vietnam Today

Vietnam News 12/4/11 reported Party Secretary Trong as saying, "he appreciated the group's effective support and co-operation in economic development, especially in projects of hunger elimination and poverty reduction." A Reuters article dated 9/6/11 discusses how the propaganda of Vietnam officials states the opposite. 


The Communists weave a tissue of lies on Vietnam News to trick the world into believing they are trying to help their indigent masses. 


Reuters states, "Across Asia, capital inflows have been driving prices higher while in Vietnam, rapid credit growth and wasteful spending by state-owned companies lies at the root of the problem." See the direct contrast in these quotes? Communism alive and well and frighteningly deceitful to the people of Vietnam.


Vietnam News


I beg all countries to boycott Vietnam for travel, an economic sanction that would mean something to the government. Perhaps officials would recognize their human rights violations are not going unnoticed, they cannot hide behind a blanket of deceit.

USU aids deaf children in South Vietnam

USU aids deaf children in South Vietnam

This is great article that makes me sad to read. I'm so glad Americans are supporting medical needs to oppressed Southerners, but why is the government so ineffective, the one that said they stood up for the little guy, in taking care of special needs? No educated teachers for hearing impaired? In 2011 while so many rich feast on exotic snakes! Thanks for telling of you service in a month-long mission. This is truly amazing for a university to invest in. It speaks well for Utah State University and for all the students involved.

Southerners left behind and in fear of reprisals daily still think of the area they live as South Vietnam. In the article, the author refers to South Vietnam as an area. A commenter stated there has been no South Vietnam since 1975. It was actually 1976. Calling the section South Vietnam distinguishes where the trip focused, the place where there would be most need due to government neglect.

St. Pius X Dallas, A Light at the End of the Evil, Dark Tunnel

My two sisters and myself attended a mass celebrated at St. Pius X church in Dallas. This was a usual 5 o'clock mass on Sat. but this mass was especially to celebrate the 65 year anniversary
of Monsignor Weinzapel  who has served the Catholic church.

The church was packed with people, and I am sure most of those lived in this community just like I have and now come back to honor him.  Among all the highlighted services of his life, one was in 1975 when he sponsored many Vietnamese families who fled Viet Nam and came to find new life here in Texas. 

Sitting in church, looking at him up on the altar, he had aged quiet a bit, but yet I can still feel the compassion, kindness in him. The way he carried himself had not changed from what I remember of him when I first met him in 1975.  I have visited St. Pius X church often. Since I stay with my mom on Saturday nights, I sometimes attend mass here on Sunday but today, seeing Monsignor brought back many tender memories:  how lost we were, how we missed home, and how we had tried to fit  into this new life.  

Memories that brought tears to my eyes of how kind these people were; even though, they did not know us nor did they speak the same language. Looking at Monsignor and seeing how old he is made me realize how long it has been since I first came to this church 36 years ago.  My family will forever be grateful to the Catholic diocese, St. Pius church and its community and especially to Monsignor Weinzapel.

I just wanted to write this to show our appreciation to him, wishing him well and  pray that he may live many more years, so he can continue to serve god and for me to have a chance to remember that the earth
still have good, kind heart people out there.  I won't forget what he did for us, and I will try to help others
if I am needed and able to.

Thank you, Sir

http://spxdallas.org/

Happy Father's Day!

During the war I didn't spend much time with my dad because of his intense involvement in it. My father was town manager of Bong Son and later a Senator when we moved to Qui Nhon. That's why I valued and appreciated each time he was able to come home (he slept in the town hall each night where he worked to evade guerilla nighttime gunfire) and spend time with me. Whenever I saw his jeep or his little motorcycle come into the front yard of our home, no matter where I was or how much fun I was having with my friends, I would always run home to greet him.  I liked to see his smile brighten up when he saw me. To me, my father had the sweetest smile, a beautiful one. His smile was so sweet and tender, and yet his eyes were so strict and full of authority. But that is what I liked about my father.  He was so manly and his heart was so kind.

It's Father's Day, and  I just happen to remember his kind face and miss him.  I hope all of our children of the world will find that same love within their hearts toward their parents, for I don't think anybody
on this earth loves us more than our parents love us.  Appreciate, cherish and grow with it.

Happy Father's Day!

Mother's Day Comes after "Black April"

The Vietnamese people fled the country during and after 1975 because of the invasion from the north, so we made the month of April  "Black April".  No matter where we are in the world, April is a mourning month for us.  The last day of the month: April 30th is the day we all get together at the community where we live to remember, to mourn, pray, appreciate and reflect.  This year is no different;  I came to the site where we have the memorial ceremony.  The sight of my beloved Freedom Flags and the songs people were singing brought tears to my eyes.  A chilling sensation runs through my body whenever I hear these songs and see these flags.

I think there were more young people attending this year.  This moved me so much, for I always hope that the next generation will realize the importance of their involvement in the fight for our Viet Nam and its true freedom.  For the people of Viet Nam one day will have rights and happiness, and also one day we all would be able to go back and rebuild our country.

In remembering the saddest day of our lives, I would like to join my people everywhere in mourning, saluting and praying for all the soldiers, people who have died for my country and because of my country. This includes my dad and my mom for all their sacrifices in their life for my safety.

Happy Mother's Day!

Vietnam Today

The Viet Nam War ended on April 30, 1975.  There was no more gunfire, and all of remaining soldiers returned home. Though my family faced retribution if we returned, we prayed other families, not so outwardly involved in fighting against communism, would be safe. Viet Nam would be reunited. The North and the South would rebuild the country. We hoped and prayed from America that our cherished Viet Nam would finally have peace.

That's what we all thought when the ceasefire was called. When the North soldier's came into Sai Gon, our beloved capital of the South, they did not bring peace. Instead there were more tears shed.

Our soldiers did not get to come home to their families.  They were all sent away to what that the North called rehabilitation camps, but they were in fact prisons. Our soldiers were tortured physically and mentally and many died.  The few that survived the torrent of abuse were sent home many years later in such a sickened state they were unable to continue a normal life.

My family was one of the lucky ones that left Viet Nam on April 30, 1975.  That day brought many of us dreams, hope for a better future that would never come. That day in history brought Viet Nam into turmoil, agony, pain, and suffering. Even today, thirty-five years later, my people are still suffering.            

I grew up during the war, young, but old enough to see what my country went through and what had become of my Viet Nam.  I had good parents.  I learned from my mom to be independent, competent and yet retain a kind heart because during wartime. My father was seldom home.  She was responsible for both the mom and dad roles.  I learned from my dad to be strong, righteous, caring, respectful, and to love all people. 

Today, I try to teach my children about my Viet Nam and their grandparents.  My children were born in the United States and have not had a chance to visit their mother's land.  That's why I am trying to teach them the good and bad of the United States and Viet Nam.  I want the to keep the good things from Viet Nam's culture and value the good qualities from American culture, using both to grow.  I pray that my children will see the good in Viet Nam in their lifetime if it's at all possible. 

I love my Viet Nam with all my being, and I want my children to love it too. I hope one day they will visit a Viet Nam with true peace, freedom, and happiness. I love and appreciate America, a country that saved and sheltered my family and my people, a country that gave us freedom and opportunities to survive and achieve success.  America became my second country, a country I learned to love and cherish for as long as I live.

But still the North spreads propaganda throughout the land and persecutes the Viet Kieu, or Southerners who fought for freedom from the North.  Tourism websites offer trips to my country stating that Viet Nam is a great place to live and visit. But in contrast, horrors or violence still occur in my land. Southerners are still oppressed by the government. For example, a friend of mine returned home to visit Viet Nam for the Tet celebration in January 2011. As he ate lunch in an open-air café, a woman who had vended him food from her cart stepped out into the street. A car raced toward her. She couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. My friend watched frozen in shock as the vehicle hit the woman, knocking her down, spilling her blood, and leaving her struggling for breath on the ground, her legs and arms splayed unnaturally at odd angles. Communist officials came over to my friend as he bent over the woman.

“Leave her. Go off from here,” the police officer yelled.

The car, that had struck her, screeched to a halt. The driver jumped from the driver’s seat into the street. He began screaming.

As he stood over the dying woman he screamed, “You stupid cow! It was your fault!”

After he had driven off, the police spoke to my friend again, who still watched, shaking his head from side to side.

“That man is an official’s son. You can do nothing. Go from here and never speak of this again.”

The woman groaned and let out one last labored breath and died.

To justify acts like these, Northerners have always condemned Southerners for unsupported accusations.  According to Tal Tovoy's case study entitled "Peasants and Revolutionary Movements," Viet Cong propaganda has depicted the South Vietnamese government as a “political body opposed to Vietnamese unification." Tovoy states the initial struggle against the South Vietnamese instituted by the communist North was to rebel against large landholders and to offer a "provision of land to the peasantry."

But according to Ron Gluckman in 1990, an American reporter stationed in Sai Gon, "Legislation passed last year authorizes Viet Kieu to purchase property in Ho Chi Minh." Viet Kieu were not given freedom to live as other Viet Namese. If Viet Kieu were not allowed to purchase land, this is in direct contrast to the North’s pretense that they offered unity and offered all people equal opportunity.

Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk, was exiled to France from Viet Nam in 1966 for his writing and demonstration against the North for South Viet Namese suffering violence at the hands of communists. Martin Luther King Jr. nominated Hanh for a Novel Peace Prize in 1967. Hanh could not return to Viet Nam for a visit until 2005.

Yet North propaganda states, “Solidarity for a better world.”  According to a 2010 Vietnam Bulletin report for the Vietnam Daily News, farmer peasants in the country do not even have refrigerators, while rich government officials in town live extravagantly.

Andrew Lam writes in Nation of Ly Van Nguyen, on trial in Vietnam in 2007 for spreading propaganda against the communist government, “During the trial on March 30, Father Ly Nguyen's mouth was physically muzzled after he recited four lines of his own poetry.” The father’s poetry was about freedom from oppression, freedom from violence, the freedom the North says they seek.

“All houses are happy,” communists post around Viet Namese cities and towns. “Tomorrow starts today.”  But in actuality there is no freedom and many families have loved ones in prison. “In mid1985, the Hanoi government conceded that it still held about 10,000 inmates in the reeducation camps, but the actual number was believed to be at least 40,000.” (http://countrystudies.us/vietnam/40.htm)

By writing my memoir, I hope to show mainly the wonderful family I had growing up in Viet Nam when it was still a free country. We weren’t so different from Americans. In addition, I wanted to reveal what the war was really like for a Viet Kieu like myself, whose family was passionately patriotic and fought for the South’s freedom alongside Americans. It is my hope and prayer that readers take away a greater understanding of what the country was and what it could become again. The more who become aware and bring the truth to light, the more likely the Viet Namese people will achieve freedom in the future.

Muc: My Dog, My Friend

I had a  dog in my childhood years.  His name was Muc 'meaning ink' because his hair color was all black. He followed me everywhere, from the beginning of the village to the end  He even climbed the mountain with me and waited for me at the foot of the tree when I was up on the tree.

My family lived in a small village, almost like a farm area here.  We had mountain, river, brook and not too far there was the beach. We had a pigpen, many chickens and even rabbits, but Muc was my favorite.  He was my best friend.

We liked to run in the rain, sliding down a small dirt hill or to go swim in the river.  My favorite time with him was when we chased after the small yellow chicks and angered their parents so we could get chased by the mommy and daddy chicken.  I did not think Muc was scared of the chickens, but if I ran he would follow me.

I have many  beautiful memories with him but my last one with him was when we played in the flooding water overflowed from the river crawling into our front yard.  He was so happy when we caught crickets coming out from the holes.

That was my last time having fun with my best friend for the water got higher into our home, I was ordered by my mom to go upstairs and Muc was still downstairs enjoy his swimming in the water.  He did not know the current could got stronger and it took him out of my house swirling all the way to the brook  and out of my sight, out of my life.

Chapter 3 of my memoir, Child of Vietnam, is published in Kartika Review.

Tribute to My Uncle

I want to tribute my uncle who passed away now six years ago. He and my father were close, both in politics, both elected to senate positions but in different cities in Viet nam. All of this was before the Viet Nam War. When my family moved here, my father left his political life behind and devoted himself to family. My uncle, though, moved to California, where there were more Vietnamese people, and became a political activist for South Viet Nam.

My uncle attended as many protest as he could with the Vietnamese community in California.  He also had a time slot in a Vietnamese Radio Broadcast where he tried to educate people how bad communist ways are.

My uncle became sick, but he still went on to this one particular protest, which turned out to be his last
one. His illness grew worse that day, for he was standing in the rain and cold.  He passed away
after about three weeks later after battling pneumonia.  Since our dad passed a way nine months before that date, our uncle became our father and six years ago, we lost him, too.

All of us siblings  rushed to California for his funeral.  To my surprise and amazement, at his wake, as I saw him lying there, but we heard his voice from his radio broadcast throughout the funeral chapel.  So many of his colleagues came to pay respects. The final respect for him was at the burial, to see a Vietnamese Freedom Flag covered his coffin, the gun shots, the salutes and the handing of the flag to his wife.  I was so proud of him, I was crying, for I had lost an uncle, but also I cried for my country to have lost another fighting soldier.

All these years, I thought my father had no longer involve in politics, but I was wrong, he was still involved, only in his own way. He talked with my uncle everyday and gave him advice.
Together, they still fought for Viet nam, and no they are both gone, I am sure there are many many
more Vietnamese out there who still carry on the battle, hoping one day we can all come back
to a country, free of communism.

My father and my uncle had always said, they wished to live long
enough, so they would one day set foot on our motherland again. But that did not happen. Perhaps
that will happen in my lifetime.

Vietnam's Jungle Law: A Sad Story

I apologize for not writing anything on my blog for a while.  This past Thursday, we celebrated our Vietnamese New Year.  I remember in Viet Nam, New Year's Day was a huge deal for all of us. We came together like a family no other time of year.  Tet is celebrated like a birthday for everybody, no matter where family is, each will try to come home at all costs.  The younger ones wish the best wishes to the elderly relatives and in return we will receive wishes from them and also a little red bag containing of money.  In Vietnam my mom and sisters decorated our home with all kinds of exotic flowers and hard to find fruits.  As a catholic, we went to church to thank God for the old year and pray for the new year.

Here in the United States, now we also attend church to give thanks and prayers at New Year's.  We cling to the customs as we had in Viet Nam, but I know it is not the same. Somehow there is always an aching feeling inside of me knowing that I am so far away from "home".

New Year's I should talk about happy things, but there is a story that I just heard from one of my friends returning from visiting his family in Vietnam last month.  This story has haunted me for days and I would like to share with you since we all live in such a safe and privileged country. We don't hear about what is really happening back home.  I often say Viet Nam has no law or their law to me is 'jungle law'.  This story will let you understand why I said such thing.

My friend was sitting at an eatery on the street of Saigon.  He bought some breakfast from a middle-aged woman who was selling food from her cart.  After selling him the package, she pushed her cart across the street. An SUV come charging down the street and hit her. Her body was on the street gushing blood.  My friend said he tried to run over to help. Some police officers held him back so he wouldn't be run over in the street.  People crowded around the streets but no one cared to help or  each was afraid to help.  Just then a young man from the SUV jumped out, stood over the dying lady cursing, blaming her for not watching where she was going. Then he got back into his car and sped off.  Throughout this entire episode, my friend said he used his camera trying to tape the tragedy, but again the police snatched it and also made him leave the area. He was wondering why, and they told him the driver was one of the high official's son. My friend left the country with frustration, disgusted, and he has been haunted with this sight forever.

For those who have gone to visit Vietnam as a tourist or who as child returned to visit the motherland, I have heard many of them say positive things about the country.  I wonder if it is the material things they see.  Where are the rights for my people?  I am sure all they see are the lavish, tall beautiful buildings, hotels...the facade of Vietnam.  I hope they will look deeper into the heart of my people. There they will see the sorrow, agonies, fright, anger that the communist government is trying to hide from the world.  Viet Nam has NO law. Any law now is "jungle law" to me.  I am sure with all my heart that my people were happier and even safer during war time than after the war ended, and there were supposed to be peace in Viet Nam.

Please respond to the beginning of the memoir in progress.

Introduction

            At seven years old, my 1970’s Việt Nam was a breathtakingly beautiful land full of excitement and danger; a land of poisonous snakes, killer floods, and terrifying accidents. But it was also a place of adventure and delight, of exploration on the mountain and in the neighboring villages, climbing mango trees and picking acai berries, canoeing in the brook and crabbing, playing any and every game imaginable. Oh, yes, and by the way, it was a place where a war was going on. My mother, watched us arrive home plastered in mud or emerge from mists of tear gas, and folded us in her arms rejoicing in our miraculous, continued wellbeing. She knew we were surrounded by danger, so she trained us rather than chaining us.

My father struggled to save the world one child at a time by adopting Việt Cộng[1] spies and an orphaned boy, who years later turned traitor, a victim of communist brainwashing. Above all, we led as normal a life as possible amid battling artillery right outside the windows of our home.  My father, city manager and an important man, commanded our family before he died to tell people he was a good father
. Family always came first for him and then country. My father was humble about his public service.

I chose to write this memoir in tribute to what South Việt Nam once was, and also, to honor my parents, who planned and provided for my lucky escape from the horrors of the Việt Nam War that was fought on my front doorstep.

---

[1] The Việt Cộng (VC) are the Northern Communists who fought the Americans in the Việt Nam War.

Lost Tradition: Ngay Gio

My country is not that big, but because of the war,  we often were terrorized by the communists when going from city to city. That was why I did not get to see or know many of my relatives.  I only knew a few of them that lived in the same village.  I think I was closer to my village neighbors than my own uncles, aunts and cousins.  I was able to see my father's side of the family once a year for we had a day called "Ngay Gio".  It's like a family reunion only we got together to remember our ancestors, our love ones who were dead.

Every year, on that particular day, most of my father's family members, near or far, all tried to come to our home because the Le Cemetery was in the same village where we lived.  My father's uncle, Le Van An, who was a Bishop from Long Khanh City, would also come home to the village to celebrate a Mass there at the cemetery.

This was about the only time of the year I saw my relatives who lived far outside my village.  After these few days were over,  we parted ways and promised to see each other again next year.  I was too young to remember  anybody.  Years later when the war became too intense to travel and the village became
more dangerous for relatives to visit, that celebration could no longer being honored; therefore, my chance of knowing any family members was even less than before.

Now, so many of my relatives I will never see. I left them behind in Viet Nam along with my family's property, our possessions, and our beloved cemetery with its cherished tradition.