The Simple Moments

It's been a little over a month since I've left the homeland, and this closing entry (at least on this Vietnam chapter of my life) has been long overdue. Since I've come home, I've caught up with friends I've held dear in my heart before and during my journey in Vietnam, and I've yet to meet up with others. I've traveled up the Pacific Coast on a scenic drive from L.A. to the Bay, and I've flown to the East Coast to experience the fast-paced, city life in a more slow, observant manner. I've gone from having no appetite for food (even Vietnamese-American food) for the first two weeks to regaining some of it through eating local ice cream and delicacies that only New York or D.C. could offer. And now I'm back in San Jose, reestablishing the life I once had as a primary school teacher, rebuilding using the habits I developed in Vietnam, and relearning how to navigate this American life.

Honestly, I haven't spoken much about my experiences in Vietnam. Usually the people who hear about it are the ones who are around me long enough to catch me in a flashback moment. There's not much I can summarize in one, two, three meetings. Vietnam is a place that I can only talk about if I am in the country, traveling with a companion who wants to know more -- and even that doesn't do justice in describing it. Although I left without true reconciliation between my working style and the Vietnamese lifestyle, I still appreciate it for the beauty that one can see in the resilience and kindness of its people, and the wonder of its landscape.

While I can't explain Vietnam beyond those few words at this moment, I can retell the moments that have stood out to me the most since I've been back:

1. Although I'm not a big fan on manicures and pedicures (my 5th grade students testify about that), I went with my sister to a beauty salon in Redondo Beach to clean up the hands and feet that my uncle once said belonged to "a child of the dust." Upon entering the shop, I wondered if the ladies hunched over customer's feet or hands were Vietnamese. After hearing one worker ask another in Vietnamese if the customer (me) had chosen a color, and upon having the question repeated directly to me in English, I automatically answered in Vietnamese, "Da, chua co." The womyn around me giggled at my unintentional Vietnamese response while my sister did a mental face-palm, as our position as Vietnamese-Americans had been given away, and now we were to engage in full Vietlish conversations.
2. In DC, my friends and I stumbled upon a restaurant called "Lincoln's Waffles," which specialized in chicken and waffles. While consuming an unhealthy amount of buttery, delicious waffles and fried chicken wings, we noticed that our server had a Bay Area accent and heard him telling other customers he was from San Francisco. We chatted with him and in front of the cashier, he asked, "What ethnicity are you guys?" I told him I was Vietnamese, and the cashier -- who at first frowned at us for coming in right before closing time -- smiled widely and said, "Me, too!" The whole restaurant (consisting of me, my friends, the server, and the cashier) were loudly exclaimed different things all at once, and the cashier and I continued on in Vietnamese. During this conversation, I found out Chu was from Ca Mau (woo hoo, Trevor!) and talked about the neighboring Vietnamese community in DC. Although the conversation was short, it felt nice to casually use the Vietnamese pronouns again. And their hospitality perhaps made that moment one of my favorite moments since I left Vietnam.
3. I generally am not a morning person, but since Vietnam, I've made a conscious effort to wake up early and slowly absorb the day. The days where I have time to make myself Trung Nguyen coffee via Vietnamese coffee filter are the times I treasure, as I usually take myself back to the weekends in Vietnam where I would wake up late and meet friends for cafe bo song; or walk downstairs and have cafe coc with my aunt, uncle and cousins; and chem gio over iced coffees and on small red plastic stools. Those simple moments are the ones I miss the most.

Morning routine: Workout, make/eat breakfast, settle in with black coffee (Trung Nguyen, not Folgers)

It feels like I've enjoyed the American life most when I've had a chance to integrate Vietnamese culture and language into it, and maybe that's what I should continue to do to prevent and/or relieve the occasional withdraw. One day, I'll be back in the work grind in full effect, I'll have the same appetite I once had for the American foods I craved so much in Vietnam (mostly super quesadillas from Eduardo's Tacqueria), and I'll be the social person I once was. For now, I'll take my time to enjoy the things that once have and continue to bring me joy, while consciously constructing this renewed sense of self using the best tools of both worlds.