What the Pho happened?
A Project Proposal
My paternal grandparents never talked about the war or how they came to be here in the United States, perhaps it was a sore subject.
My grandma, bà nội, had invited us over for dinner that evening, and we were more than eager to come when we heard she was making pho (yes very stereotypical Vietnamese, I know). My dad was running late from work so by the time we arrived at of my grandparents’ house we were all starving. Seated at the dinner table with me was my dad, my mom, my grandpa, and my younger brother. Grandpa ông nội as he often did at the dinner table began to tell a story. This time recalling the comical memory of his chickens he had owned in Vietnam, explaining that my Aunt Ut and my Uncle Bach (the youngest two of my grandparents 7 children) had thought the chickens were their pets and that when it was time to slaughter the chickens Ut and Bach clung to them desperately, begging my grandpa to spare their “pets”. The whole family erupted in laughter at the thought of my Aunt Ut and Uncle Bach clinging onto their small pet chickens (cruel but hilarious).
As my bà nội brought over the pho dishes from the kitchen to the dinner table I made a remark joking, “It’s like we’re at Saigon Cafe (a popular Vietnamese restaurant chain). My younger brother, Jeremiah, had been reading a scholastic book for young readers on Vietnam (my brother’s a nerd who loves to read and learn about history) and attempting to flex his newfound knowledge corrected me interjecting, “actually it’s really supposed to be Ho Chi Minh Cafe”. Immediately the atmosphere in the room changed. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds that felt more like a few eternities; my grandpa got up from out of his chair and without a word left the dinner table, presumably retiring to his bedroom.
I’d never seen my grandpa so visibly upset; I’d never even seen my grandpa get mad. How my dad explained it, my grandpa ông nội didn’t like to think about the war and mentioning Ho Chi Minh City only brought back bad memories for him, especially since changing Saigon to Ho Chi Minh City was used to demoralize the South Vietnamese population. My dad filled me in on the details that my grandpa had never been able to share with me because it was simply too hard for him to say (much of the story of how we immigrated to the States is sourced from my dad). ông nội was forced into exile for his beliefs and had to leave behind his home, his country, and to an extent his identity to live a new life. Vietnam was a part of him, and the Vietnam he loved was not the Communist Vietnam that had taken over. In losing the war he lost his sense on national pride; this new Vietnam was NOT the Vietnam he’d grown up in. Vietnam could no longer be his home.
A Market in Can Tho
On October 15th, 1942, Lạnh Minh Đăng was born in Can Tho, Vietnam to parents Chánh văn Đảng and Lâu thị Nguyên. The youngest of 4 children Lạnh Minh Đăng was always tasked with the chores his older siblings had no interest in doing themselves; often times he was sent to clean out the duck pen and collect the eggs which proved difficult because the ducks they owned were quite snappy and would often bite at him. When Lạnh became a teenager he was given the task of selling knapsacks of rice in the market of nearby city Can Tho which he enjoyed greatly because to him it was an escape from his life on the rice farm. Once a week Lạnh ventured over to Can Tho on a rusty old bicycle with a basket attached to the front full of knapsacks of rice to trade at the market. Lạnh’s mother would often ask him to get rau muõng (water spinach), củ hành (onion), and gỏi ngó sen (lotus root), however rice was a very common product in Vietnam so Lạnh learned to be persuasive and used his charm as well to get buyers in the busy market. One of those buyers was Kim Chị Đỗ. Instantly attracted to Kim, Lạnh used his charm and good looks to win her over thus starting a beautiful relationship.
Lạnh’s eldest brother was set to inherit all of their parent’s belongings including the farm, so at age 17 Lạnh moved to the city and began working full-time at the market, working for different merchants selling and trading all kinds of different goods. It was persuasive speech and young ambition that drew merchants to hire him as a selling hand in the busy Can Tho market. There he reconnected with Kim and a few years later Lạnh Minh Đăng unofficially “married” Kim Chị Đỗ. It was here in a market in Can Tho that Lạnh Minh Đăng and Kim Chị Đỗ decided to start a family.
An Unending Unfinished Story
My grandpa had a way with words. My Vietnamese was elementary at best and my ông nội (grandpa) spoke very broken English, but despite the language barrier he was still the best story teller I ever knew. He spoke a sort of Vietglish (Vietnamese+English) if you will, but his understanding of English speaking and writing was savvy enough for him to achieve his Master’s degree from San Diego Christian College. Something about the way my grandpa spoke captivated audiences. Maybe it was his decades of being a pastor, maybe it was his charismatic personality, nonetheless his words left an impression on listeners. Grandpa told stories from his childhood, growing up poor in Vietnam on a rice farm by a river a few miles from the city of Can Tho where he literally bumped into my grandmother in the middle of a crowded market street (Real romantic I know). He told me stories about my dad and stories about some of my aunts and uncles that made me laugh uncontrollably and brought me to the realization that they were much like me when they were my age. He would often tell tales of Vietnamese folklore like the tale of “The Apricot Tree” and my favorite “The Story of the Moon Lady”. My ông nội always had a story to tell, all you had to do was ask. I wish I had asked for more stories. I wish I had asked for his story.
Không cám ơn (No Thank You)
“When I was a street vendor in Can Tho ‘Không cám ơn’(No thank you) was the most common phrase in the Market”, says Lạnh Minh Đăng. In the early 60s, Lạnh met two strangers that would change his life and as a result countless others. At the time Lạnh was still a merchant and while he was a talented seller he still received a fair share of Không cám ơn’s. Everyday he set up shop on one of Can Tho’s busiest streets, and everyday sought to stop busy street pedestrians and hopefully get them to purchase whatever he was selling that day. One day two white Americans set up shop by one of his “hot spots” that he liked to use because those walking down the street were forced to intersect with his stand as they walked by. Lạnh walked to them prepared to dispute with them about the spot (kinda like arguing over unassigned assigned seats), but as he approached them he was met by warm smiles and handed a small book. He would later find out that this book was a bible, but in the moment he was dumbfounded. They attempted to speak with him about it (they had clearly been taught Vietnamese), but Lạnh uttered a quick “ Không cám ơn” and sped away.
For the next few months Lạnh responded with “ Không cám ơn” everytime he was approached by these two white missionaries. Everyday he would set up shop across the street from them and everyday they would insist upon him talking to them about “CHÚA GIÊSU” (Jesus) and asked him to read the book they gave him. At the time he had been ripping pages out of the bible and using it as toilet paper, but on one occasion he grew bored while sitting on the toilet and read one of the pages from the book. The book intrigued him, and he continued to read the bible more and more each time he sat on the toilet. Eventually curiosity got the best of him and he approached the two white American missionaries. Lạnh began learning about Christ and once he knew enough about Christianity decided to become a pastor and lead people to the same realization as him. He felt God had asked him to become a pastor and lead other lost Vietnamese people to Christ; this time he didn’t say “Không cám ơn”.
Growing up and going to the house of my bà nội and ông nội (paternal grandparents) I was always told the same three things: finish Grandma’s food even if you don’t like it (I was a very picky eater, still am), make sure you take off your shoes when you go inside (mandatory when entering any Asian family home), and make sure you say “cảm ơn” (thank you). The thank you is so much more than just a display of gratitude, it’s a sign of respect. When I’d forget to say “cảm ơn” to either my bà nội and ông nội they made sure I knew I’d forgotten. It was important to them so it was important to me. They helped shape my mannerism and made sure I grew up respectful, and if I could, I’d tell my ông nội “cảm ơn” just one more time so he’d know I meant it.
Beyond the Fog Lies…
Around the mid 1960s the conflict between the Communist North Vietnamese Government combined with the National Liberation Front of South Vietnam (Viet Cong) and the Republic of Vietnam (South Vietnam) had reached its highest point. Lạnh Minh Đăng much like many of the other young South Vietnamese men joined the Republic of Vietnam’s army to protect their ideals and their country against that of Communist North’s government. When the US fully joined the war in 1968, Lạnh was grateful for their efforts and support, but ultimately it wasn’t enough to overcome the North Vietnamese who were backed by China and Communist Soviet Union. As the war became a losing battle for the Americans, they began to pull out. First their ambassadors and diplomats then their troops and American civilians. Among the American civilians were these two missionaries Lạnh had spoken with at the market. They told Lạnh about life in the United States and told him to get his family to the States if possible. Eventually a few years after the war Lạnh was able to find passage for his family and him out of Vietnam via boat. Lạnh and his family were still in risky territory however with the North Vietnamese controlling most of the bay at that point. Escaping under the cover of fog, everyone ducked and silent to avoid being caught or heard they made it out of the bay and sailed to “freedom,” but what kind of freedom is that? Forced to leave everything behind, leave the only country you’d ever known, forced to live a new life elsewhere! What lay in store for Lạnh’s family beyond the fog?
“Land of Opportunity”
After “country hopping” for years between the Philippines, Malaysia, and Indonesia Lạnh and his family were finally granted passage to the United States with the help of the two missionaries who had already returned to the States by that time. Lạnh and his family arrived and settled in San Diego where they would start their new lives. 4123 Kimsue Way, San Diego was the Dang family’s first residence in the United States. Lạnh went to school and with a degree pursued becoming a pastor once again founding his own church (he would later go back to school to get his masters degree). One by one Lạnh and Kim’s children grew up and went to college as well, starting their own lives and careers. One of those children was Joe Minh Dang, my father, who would graduate from San Diego State where he met Trang Truong, my mom. The rest is history.
Up to the day he died, grandpa was always grateful to the United States for helping the South in the war. He felt a sense of pride becoming a US citizen, feeling that since he could no longer call Vietnam his home, he prided himself in belonging to the US. Grandpa knew that coming to the United States was the right choice because here he had the freedoms to do as he pleased, and to practice whatever religion he pleased. It was here that ông nội knew his children could grow up and become successful and eventually have kids of their own (me). Grandpa knew the US was the right choice, because he knew it held endless opportunities.`
cảm ơn grandpa
