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About Me — Albert Le
Curious observer with an occasional good idea
I write this from my one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, New York. It’s a disaster with the rain outside, postponing my plans to go to a trivia night with some friends. Instead, I’m writing while I wait for my food to marinate before I cook dinner — it’s thinly sliced, soy sauce and gochujang marinated beef with some onions and bell peppers, with soon-to-be pan-fried gyoza on the side.
Second Gen
The food is probably a giveaway that I am an Asian American. Vietnamese-American, to be exact. Something like 97% with 3% being Japanese, thanks to my older brother’s 23AndMe results.
Being a second-generation immigrant has been a never-ending comedy-drama that I can’t stop watching. I recently traveled to Vietnam for the second time. The first time was in 2013 when I was 25 years old, and it was such an eye-opening experience. For the first time, I felt like I could understand why my parents were the way they were — from the small plastic stools that we always kept all the way to the way they thought about family.
Coming into this second trip I had high expectations. Unlike the first time where I traveled to the south, this time I visited the north and central regions. And this time I came equipped with a 3-month crash course in…