Small Bamboo (7 page)

The city itself hadn’t copped much damage from the war. Most of the buildings were still intact. Even though the majority of civilians struggled, they had to continue on with life and keep it as normal as possible. Dad’s family remained positive because they felt they could do nothing else. Dad met many people on the street because of his line of work and, in 1976, a year after the Fall of Saigon, that’s how he met my mum.

Mum was born in Cambodia in 1954. Her parents had moved to Cambodia a few years before, and settled there until they fled back to Vietnam in 1970. That year would see the beginning of the Cambodian Civil War. The monarchy, which had ruled for almost two decades, had been overthrown and a new military government, supported by the United States, was in charge. The new government didn’t want the North Vietnamese Army or the Viet Cong within its borders. Paranoia set in that the North Vietnamese Army was preparing an offensive aimed at Phnom Penh. This resulted in a violent reaction against the 400,000 Vietnamese living there. People were detained in camps to be used as hostages, then killed. Cambodian troops rounded up their neighbours, intending to murder them. It was reported that 800 bodies were seen floating on the Mekong River into South Vietnam. Thousands more were killed. There was nothing to indicate that they were all from the North. Even in an apology to the Saigon government, Cambodia’s then leader, Lon Nol, argued it was difficult to tell who were innocent South Vietnamese and who were with the Viet Cong. More than 100,000 others, including my mum’s family, fled Cambodia.

When she met Dad, Mum was twenty-two years old and also working on the black market. During the war, Mum worked in a pharmacy, so when Saigon fell and she had to find a way of earning money, she sold medical supplies on the streets near her home. She knew where the pharmacists had hidden supplies of all types of medicine, from headache tablets to the oral contraceptive pill, and they were easy for her to carry around and sell.

Dad needed to buy some medicine for his sister, and heard about this young woman who was selling it on the black market for a pretty good price, so he tracked her down.

Before I go further, I should add that Dad was apparently a bit of a lady’s man. As my aunties recall, he would always have a new girlfriend riding on the back of his scooter. There were so many, my aunts say, they couldn’t remember their names! Dad knew how to talk to people and I guess he knew how to charm the ladies too. Aunt Sixteen remembers that even when she was on the back of Dad’s scooter, he’d spark up a conversation with an attractive young lady on the next scooter while they were stopped at traffic lights and, by the time the light turned green, he’d have a date. Mum, however, was not that easily charmed by Dad. She was very much an independent woman for the times, a bit of a tomboy, and she had more male friends than boyfriends. There had, of course, been a few serious boyfriends by then, but even in those relationships she remained steadfastly independent.

When Dad first met Mum, he was immediately attracted to her. She had beautiful long, dark hair and a lovely smile. They spoke about the headache and flu medicine that Dad’s sister needed. Mum was businesslike and to the point, asking how many boxes he wanted. But Dad ignored the question.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked, giving her his biggest smile.

‘Lien,’ Mum replied. Then she returned immediately to business.

‘I’m Tai,’ Dad said. ‘It’s nice to meet you. It’s good to know you’re around. I’ll need to buy supplies for my family.’

Now it was Mum’s turn to ignore him. She quickly gathered the boxes and put them in a plastic bag. She thought Dad was nice but she was very cautious around strangers. Her work on the black market was risky, and she trusted only her family and closest friends. Besides, there were plenty of charming young men about and she had no time for them.

But even in his youth, Dad could be incredibly patient, and persistent. Mum’s cold shoulder made her even more attractive. He knew he would see her again when he would need to buy more medicines for his sister. Meanwhile, he would occasionally do business in Mum’s neighbourhood, and she would venture into his area to sell medicine and find new customers. On the first few occasions, Dad would just wave and say hello. Then gradually he started longer conversations with Mum. He did ask her out for lunch a few times, but she would always refuse his invitations. So they just kept saying hello and chatting, building a friendship for about a year. Then one day Dad asked her out to lunch again and, to his total surprise, Mum actually agreed.
Finally!
Dad thought.
A date!

In fact, Mum only agreed because she felt a bit guilty that he’d asked her so many times. She liked Dad, but still wasn’t sure about him; she didn’t even know if she wanted a boyfriend at that point in her life.

In Vietnam, in that era and even today, communities revolved around their markets. There were markets for vegetables, meat, fish, clothes, household goods and, of course, food stalls. Food is an essential element of the Vietnamese culture; sharing a meal brings people together and creates bonds between them, and all special occasions, from births and weddings to funerals, include some form of eating. However, eating out in Vietnam is unlike eating out in Western countries such as Australia or America; back then there were few restaurants, let alone expensive ones, but in every street and market in every town there were many, many food stalls, each selling their specialty, whether it was the famous
pho
soup or
bun bo hue
. Together, these stalls provided a feast.

Knowing the best stalls made Dad a winner. He and Mum strolled along the footpaths, stopping at a stall for noodles, then at another for ricepaper rolls, and so on, until they couldn’t eat any more. Mum was impressed and the date was a hit. (Though I should add that, for my parents, if something involved good food, it was always a hit.) At the end of lunch Dad thought he’d try his luck and asked for a second date: ‘How about a movie tomorrow night?’

Despite her initial reservations, Mum had enjoyed the day. Dad had been courteous and fun, and so she agreed.

Over the next few weeks my parents spent a lot of time together, seeing each other almost every day, and they grew very close. Then Mum decided to take him home to meet her family: her parents, two older sisters, a younger sister and younger brother. Dad wasn’t worried about meeting Mum’s family. He was good with people and spoke easily with everyone, and he was close to his own family, so he knew he would be able to win over Mum’s parents. And he did. By the time he’d had lunch with them and the visit was over, Mum’s parents thought he was a pleasant, considerate and gentle man who would really take care of their daughter. They were very happy.

Then it was Mum’s turn to meet Dad’s family at my grandparents’ home in Gia Dinh. When they arrived, my grandma and aunties were still preparing the food for dinner and after the initial introductions and small talk, Grandma excused herself to return to the kitchen. Without hesitating or even thinking about it, Mum offered to help and joined the others in the kitchen. Grandma was instantly impressed. Here was a young woman who was quick, helpful, respectful
and
domesticated.

By the end of the night, it was as if Mum was already part of the family. She got along with everyone; Dad’s parents and his brothers and sisters all loved her. And she really enjoyed herself with the Vo family too. Their dinner was typical of a Vietnamese family gathering—if it’s not big and loud, it’s boring.

Later, Grandma sat down next to Dad and said: ‘Son, I know you like to play around. But it’s time for you to settle down and get married. Lien is a good woman. You should marry her and marry her now.’

Dad knew his mother was right but he wasn’t convinced. He was only twenty-two, though it was a suitable age to marry in those days, and he hadn’t really thought about settling down. The war had only ended a year before, and no one knew what effect the current political climate would have on the future. And as much as Dad liked Mum, he had other plans which he hadn’t discussed with his mother—plans to escape Vietnam.

Those months and years after the Fall of Saigon were very unstable, and the South Vietnamese had to take every day as it came. For many of the wealthy, their comfortable living situation was quickly erased. Many people fell into a deep depression; some turned to drugs or alcohol, and ended up on the streets. The one thing on everyone’s minds was how to escape Vietnam as soon as possible. All over the South people secretly made plans to leave. Both my parents had opportunities to escape Vietnam when they first started dating, and there was an implicit understanding between them that they would not hold each other back.

Mum was given the opportunity to leave about two months into their relationship. A friend of hers had paid someone who was organising a small boat to take about twenty people to a bigger boat that would be waiting in the ocean. Mum prepared to leave, but after a month of waiting, with no word from the friend’s go-between, she gave up. Mum never found out why the escape didn’t eventuate: it could have been a scam, or it could have fallen through for a number of other reasons. Getting out of the country was like winning the lottery—even though everyone was trying to escape, it was so difficult that most people didn’t really believe they would.

Then, in November 1977, only about a month after Mum met Dad’s family, my father got his chance. Uncle Five had long been planning an escape with a close friend—working out how it would be done, when it could be done and how many people he could take. Finally Uncle Five’s friend came to him and said he had organised a big boat through a friend of a friend. It sounded legitimate and they would leave in a few days, but he could only get two spots for Uncle Five.

Two spots wasn’t nearly enough. Uncle Five could not go without his family so he decided to send his youngest brothers, Tai and Ut. He also knew that if these two brothers got out safely, they would succeed wherever they were and be able to help the rest of the family leave too. When Uncle Five told him and Ut about the escape plan, Dad agreed that it was his family duty to go. He would be sad to leave his new girlfriend Lien, but he also hoped that perhaps he would be able to send for her once he was safe.

After Uncle Five had explained the plan to them, Dad asked him, ‘Brother, how much did you pay for this?’

Uncle Five would not say how much he had paid, only that he could afford it and that it didn’t matter how much it cost if it meant his family could get out of Vietnam and have a better life. He also told Dad that he wished he could get a spot for Lien as well, as he knew how much they wanted to be together.

That night Dad had dinner with Mum and told her the news. She was sad but of course she understood. Any opportunity to leave had to be grabbed.

‘You have to go,’ she told Dad. ‘And I would never stop you. If you can build a better life elsewhere, you need to do that.’

Dad was relieved at how understanding she was and promised her that if he survived he would also help her leave Vietnam.

‘I will track you down again,’ he said. ‘Then I will help you escape Vietnam and have a better life too.’

Mum smiled. She had no doubt that Dad would send for his family and for her—it was his sole aim in leaving the country—but deep down she worried whether he would actually make it out, as so few people did.