My Mom, The Epitome of Strength and Beauty

My apologies for not fulfilling my once-a-week blog goal. Prior to this week, I was traveling throughout Vietnam and Laos with my mother, and my sister and her boyfriend -- during separate times given my sister's work obligations. This week has an awesome first week back to school from vacation, but that's not what I feel particularly compelled to write about today. Today, I want to write about my mother.

Honestly, I was initially a bit scared about traveling with my mom. I've grown into a more introverted, self-reflective traveler since I've come to Vietnam. I usually do things based on my own schedule, participate in active adventures, and spend my evenings quietly reflecting if not hanging out with friends. Before I set off on my travels, I made a promise to myself to reflect in my journal every night to sort my thoughts and the day's actions, and eventually, the nightly-reflections granted me brighter mornings as I awoke to organized thoughts and feelings.

My mother and I met in My Tho. I flew into Saigon from Hue, and after having a feast of a lunch (which put me straight to sleep on the bus) with Adrian, I caught a bus to My Tho. I groggily stepped off the bus where the driver insisted I get off to reach my destination, and walked down an unknown main street to Co-Op Mart, the meeting point of most excursions (as I've heard). Given the lengthy day of traveling, my mother's and her friends' constant check-ins had become quite bothersome at this point, and when I saw my mother, I guilty didn't show as much enthusiasm as I felt. But once I set my giant traveler's backpack down and sat down with her, I asked her about her travels. Her genuine and large smile showed that she was happy to be in her homeland, and that she was even happier to see me.

We traveled around certain cities around the Mekong Delta and hung out in Saigon that week. Here's a summary in pictures:

Rowing through a small canal during our Mekong

 Delta tour in My Tho

Our lovely tour guide, who was a riot, and my mom. They were more mother-daughter than she and I were on the tour.

Lindsay came with me and my mom to Ben Tre to visit Jefferson and hang out with his students, who were absolutely delightful. 

Showing our Ben Tre teacher some love after we offered some assistance in the classroom.

Unwinding after a long day of traveling to Saigon in our hotel with mini-cartons of ice cream and story-telling.

Visiting Bac Hai and the cousins

Chi Ngoc and Anh Long took me and my mom out to sample Saigon che. I was in che heaven.

Drinking coffee elegantly prior to our Vung Tau adventure

Mom at the top of the Jesus Statue in Vung Tau

Chauffeuring my mom around Vung Tau. Ain't no shame in my pink helmet.

Mother-daughter cafe time with Jess and her mom in Vung Tau

Nhauing at Bac Hai's house with Laura and Jenelle, who were also in Saigon that week.

At Cuc Gach Quan, a great restaurant Tin introduced us to.

At Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, my old workplace, but in Saigon. Tea lattes are actually on point there.

(You must have gathered by now that my mother is quite the model, or as Vietnamese people might say: "dieu.")

By the end of the week, I learned so much about my mother -- her thoughts, her opinions, her past -- but since I was so tired from planning and constantly moving, I didn't have time to fully process everything until we met again to travel during Tet. At this point, she left for Da Nang and I was getting ready to travel with Thao and Linhbergh, who were going to meet me in Hanoi. Since Linh's a wonderful photographer, I left most of the picture-taking to him. But here are two momentos I have to remember our time together:

Thao and I on the bridge in Da Nang overlooking Duong Hoa, flower street.

Linh and Thao in the middle of Da Nang traffic

(As you can see, my sister is a complete product of my parents' beauty. I didn't get left with much. Thanks, Thao.) By the end of my trip with Thao and Linh, we had covered 7 cities in Vietnam: Hanoi, Halong Bay, Hue, Da Nang, Hoi An, Saigon, and Vung Tau. I was ready to get back to Da Nang, "li xi" (give lucky money to) my cousins, and sleep for the next three days.

Of course, in Vietnam, nothing ever goes as planned, hence I didn't do much planning for Tet. On the first day of Tet, we usually visit our grandparents' house on both sides of the family. I decided to go where ever my mom's family went since she was around, and on this day, we visited my grandfather's grave.

I never met my mother's father -- my grandfather. The faintest memory I have of him is from the time my mom heard the news that her father passed away. I was 8 years old at the time and completely naive to my mother's sacrifice in being the only child of 13 siblings to flee Vietnam to seek a better future for her -- at the time -- unknown family. I remember slowly crawling up the brown-carpeted stairs of our two-story apartment as I cautiously approached the sound of muffled tears coming from my parents' bedroom door that was slightly ajar. I pushed the door open with my index finger to find my mother, the strong womyn I had grown to know, sitting upright against the headboard of the bed and crying helplessly. I remember wanting to fling my arms around her, as she would do for me if I came home crying the same way, but instead, I quietly set myself on the bed and scooted my body towards her. I carefully placed my hand on her arm, but she didn't respond. Instead, she stared straight at the wooden closet doors straight ahead of her. That was the day I first recalled seeing my mother cry, and the day that I redefined "strength" as an adjective that refers to the state of being physically as well as emotionally strong.

My mother was all smiles after that day, being the optimistic and resilient person that she is. Just as she was all smiles as we met up in Hoi An for us to arrange our group to visit Ong Ngoai's (grandfather on my mom's side) grave. It was located in a small plot of land dedicated to various members of our family -- Ong Ngoai's mother, Di Ngoc's miscarried son, my mom's younger brother who passed from tuberculosis, Ong Ngoai... I've never learned so much about my ghost relatives until I visited that plot of land. Ong Ngoai's grave was the most prominent, as its yellow and blue tiling shined even under the overcast sun. Mo Nga, Mo Loc, Di Ngoc, Cau Dai, my mother and I slowly came toward his tomb, as the tall weeds made our walk a bit difficult. Once we reached the front of the grave, they started the preparations: Cau Dai lit multiple sticks of incense, Mo Loc and Di Ngoc picked at the weeds growing between the tiles, Mo Nga swept the dirt off the tiled floor with her feet, and I joined in to make myself useful -- looking a bit like a chicken kicking up dirt. In contrast, my mother squatted before Ong Ngoai's portrait engraved into a grey slab and ran her fingers along the outline of his face. "He looks so young here, doesn't he?" she commented, still facing the stone.

After we made our rounds of praying to our other ancestors, my mother found herself in the same position, while my aunties and uncle squatted off on the side, retelling fond memories of Ong Ngoai. As I looked at my mother, my first memory of Ong Ngoai began to resurface as I saw her eyes glisten and heard her sniffling. Here she was, 17 years after his death, still trying to maintain her resilience. I put my arm around her, and like before, she was non-responsive. She just needed to process.

It wasn't until she and I left Vietnam to travel around Laos that I found out more about Ong Ngoai. I asked her to tell me what he was like, and how he was as a father. She told me that no one could ever compare, especially since he prized her as his favorite daughter and wanted to ensure the best for her. Even after so many years had passed, she still struggled to talk about the time she learned about his death, especially since she had not had enough money at the time to see him before he passed.

My experience with my mother at my grandfather's grave seemed to open up communication doors between me and my mother, as though her regrets and my hopes in maintaining a good relationship with my family started working together. The following is a photo summary of our travel in Laos:

Veggie buffet at tourist-packed Luang Prabang. Our first dinner in town.

Beerlao was the best part of dinner, and the beverage of choice for the rest of our time in Laos.

We ran into Michael Turner (U.S. Embassy rep in VN) and his family in Luang Prabang!

Mekong River tour -- Laos-style. This vision inspired me to write a counterpunctal poem about her and her return to Southeast Asia, which I presented to her as her Valentine's Day gift.

Pak Ou Caves, housing hella Buddha statues and statuettes

The view from the cave

I'm just your average (Vietnamese-American) bear! At Kuang Si Park

Mama modeling at one of the Kuang Si falls.

Modeling at the bottom of Kuang Si waterfall

Like daughter, like mother. This is an attempted Rocky pose as we headed up the stairs to get to the top of the mountain.

During this trip, I figured out where I get my sweet-tooth from. "Can we get this?" "Not right now, mom. We haven't had dinner... Okay, fine."

My favorite dessert dish from our informal Lao food tour: coconut cakes

Yum!

At the top of Chomsy Hill / Phou Si Temple, overlooking Luang Prabang

My kind-hearted mom wanted to release all the birds from their cages, but we could only buy one cage. Unfortunately, one of these little ones had underdeveloped wings and couldn't fly anywhere. =(

Valentine's Day dinner in Makphet in Vientaine

At COPE Centre: a organization throughout Laos dedicated to raising awareness about unexploded bombs from the Secret War to Lao citizens and to rehabilitating those who lose their limbs from encountering them. This is where my mom and I got into some real talk about the war, and her family and friends.

Outside Wat Sisaket

Outside Wat Ho Pra Keo

At the foot of Patouxay, emulating France's Victory Arc

Phat That Luang

Captured at the end of our adventure in Vientaine. We had the best tuk-tuk driver!

Lao BBQ and Beer Lao for dinner -- never fails

Che Thai (Lao version) and Taro Milk Tea. Look how happy mom is!

Street BBQ in Hanoi with Amelia, Andrew, and Michelle

Mom and Hoan Kiem Lake

Fulbrighters + ELF + Hoan Kiem

Introducing mom to bun cha. Despite the delightful smile, I'm sure she was thinking she could cook better.

Getting cafe trung with Nhuanh above Hoan Kiem lake.

Lunch in Hue with my uncles, aunts, and friends!

Toward the end of the trip, I was over-exhausted from my travels, and yet I wanted to continue taking my mom all around Hue. But being the sweet and caring person she is, my mom released me of my tour guide duties, bid me goodbye, and left for Da Nang with her brother and sisters, where she would spend the next few days before her return to the States.

While I've been enjoying my time catching up with work and self-care, I find myself missing the bright and youthful energy my mom brought along our travels. (I see so much of her in my students, it's scary.) Everywhere we went, she was so positive, as though she had just opened her eyes up to a whole new world. (Technically, Laos was somewhat of a whole new world for her, as this was her first adventure outside of America and Vietnam since her refuge travels.) I'm really glad I went to Laos with her, and I'm very thankful that I have had this opportunity to live and work in Southeast Asia. This was the adventure that had been craving since I learned more about my Southeast Asian roots in Berkeley, specifically through REACH! (UCB API Recruitment and Retention Center) and SASC (Southeast Asian Student Coalition); I had always wanted to learn more about Southeast Asia through my parents' lens, and what better way to do it than to travel through Southeast Asia with them? I wouldn't have been able to fulfill it without Fulbright and all the people who have helped develop me into the strong person I am today, especially my mom. 

Cam on, ma. 

P.S. Here's a dedication to all the mamas. Dance away, moms.