Chapter 5 Survival of the Fittest I felt someone nudge me. “Wake up… wake up lazy head.” I opened my eyes and saw Kuang standing in front of me with luggage in both hands. “We’ve arrived,” he said, “Go on… grab your bags. We have to leave.” Still half asleep, I reached under my seat to get at the luggage. A teeming mass of refugees crowded close to a sharp fence that was used as a barricade. It looked like a prison. The people there spoke so loudly I could hear them from inside the bus. Some were speaking Chinese, others Vietnamese. I was very happy to hear these familiar languages even though they were talking about us: “Where have they come from? Gosh… how lifeless they look! Oh Lord, they’re stick-thin!” An official from the camp approached the bus. He appeared to be the director. He was dressed in a uniform with nicely polished shoes. He spoke with Jo Vinh in English, and both of them were smiling. After the official left, we stood outside of the bus while the other refugees continued to stare and chat about us. Jo Vinh, as usual, shouted out words like a sergeant to his cadets. “Food will be distributed twice weekly at the entrance of the camp. There’ll be fresh meat and vegetables, as well as canned goods. They’re from the generosity of the Red Cross and the islanders. You can get water from pipes on top of the hill, near where we are now, early in the morning until late in the afternoon. The shower rooms and the beach will be closed after sunset. I warn you to avoid trouble with the other refugees as it will go on record, and your potential sponsors will view your records. The Americans especially, they don’t like trouble makers. Each family will be required to file an application for sponsorship and take a physical exam… you’ll meet with foreign representatives from the United States, Canada, Australia, and several European nations. Translators will be provided during these meetings.” People sighed with relief. Mom and Dad’s faces glowed when they heard the word “United States.” We were finally going to reach our goal. It was strange; for the first time I began to
take interest in America. It had to be an amazing place to inspire such awe in people at the mere mention of the word. We marched behind Jo Vinh into the camp. As we passed the gate, which was heavily guarded by armed police, we got a closer look at the tower. It had a belfry, and a few brick cottages surrounding it. The tower was ancient, mysterious, and impressively designed. The brick cottages that housed the guards were simply built, with only one or two windows apiece. Each of the homes had a little plot of grass and colorful flowers, but the rows of cyclone fencing, the guard towers, and razor sharp spirals of barbed wire destroyed whatever serenity existed. There were clusters of simple shacks, laid out evenly in rows, with rusted metal roofs. Thin posts divided the homes and there were mosquito nets hanging inside each tiny block. There were no doors. All the homes opened up to the outside. Each dwelling was identical. The only difference was in the type of mosquito netting. Ropes were weighed down by drying clothes. Pots and pans dangled on wooden posts or were scattered about on the floor or on the beds. Bowls of various types, from cracked rubber to old cans, rested on the beds. In the corner next to the portable stove were some chopsticks that had been made from tree branches. Each garden was planted with a variety of vegetables: watermelons, squash, string beans, hot peppers, tomatoes, and own chow, a hollow-stemmed green vegetable which at home was fed to the pigs yet here was savored as a delicacy. The garden gave off a wonderful scent. At least now, we were certain that we had not been lied to again. We would not be fed to the tempestuous sea! My family was given a small block at one end of the camp, while Aunty Tam, the uncles, Uncle Chu’s fiancÊe, Ah Kieng, the grandparents, and the cousins lived at the other end, closer to the entrance. In their area, the open space was in much worse condition than it was at our end. It was muddy, filthy, and wet, but good for planting. On our side, the dirt was dry and hard. These were good conditions for walking, but we could not grow anything. By the time we had begun to settle in, the sky darkened. We had to use our lantern to set up the mosquito net while Mom borrowed water from our neighbors, who were extremely kind and willing to share with us the little water that they had. Mom
brought out the portable stove and cooked rice with beef, chicken and vegetables. The smell made me as hungry as ever, and I kept looking at the rice pot. Fong, Kuang and I visited our cousins while Mom cooked the food. Their block, which they shared with the grandparents, was even smaller than ours. We walked over to where the uncles, Aunty Tam, and her family were living. Their block was as large as ours. We said hello while Aunty Tam was preparing food for the family. She turned to us, smiled, and asked, “Why are you not home helping your mother?” We smiled and told her that Mom did not need our help. And we wandered off to explore the camp. We came upon the public bathrooms. The smell was intolerable. Covering our noses, we quickly stepped inside. There were holes in the ground similar to those at our previous camp, but worse. With so many people in the camp, there was a great deal of debris in the holes, crawling with maggots. Some even crawled close to our feet. We jumped out of the bathroom when we spotted them. It was so disgusting we wanted to vomit. We decided we would only use these toilets if we were truly desperate. However awful the toilets were, they made the best planting grounds when abandoned. The vegetables and fruits that grew there were so abundant and tasty that people would fight for space. We went to the shower room. There were separate sections for the men and women, so Phuong and Fong went into one, while Cong, Kuang, and I went into the other. The smell of soap was the first thing we noticed when we entered the shower room. It was free, resting beside the pool in small plastic containers for everyone to share. At first, soap was of little concern to me. Not using soap for so many months, I felt clean washing up with the muddy well water and swimming in the ocean. But the first time I used the soap in the shower room, I felt so clean and fresh that I sniffed myself as though I had never before smelled soap. And we took some home to do the dishes. Now there were only a few men in the shower room. It was almost closing time. We were a little embarrassed, since we were the only ones fully clothed. We looked down at the floor to avoid seeing the men washing, and made a speedy exit. Outside, we met Phuong and Fong. From what they described, the women’s showers looked the same. When we returned, dinner was ready. We ate on the bed, using
dishes and chopsticks that the previous tenant had left behind. Since we did not have much water left to clean the dishes, we left them in an empty bucket. We went back into our tent and cleaned the bed with rags, in the process using the rest of our water. Even though the camp was packed with noisy refugees, hardly a voice was heard. Mom blew out the flame of the lantern. The bed was nice and smooth and for the first time in many restless nights, I had an untroubled sleep. The next morning, Dad, Fong, Kuang, and I woke up extra early to go fetch water. The pipe was close to the camp entrance. Making our way up the little hill was tiring, and we were panting by the time we got there. The line was not long. We each carried two buckets. With a stick balancing a bucket at each end, Dad, Fong, and Kuang hauled the water back on their shoulders. Again, being the weakest one, I carried the two smallest buckets. After breakfast, Mom told us to put on our best clothes because we were going to see representatives from potential host countries. Our grandparents, Phuong, and Cong were listed as Dad's dependents, so they were to go with us. A friendly Chinese man greeted us, but told us that we would not be able to see the foreign representatives on that particular day. Instead, we needed to get in line for numbers, fill out some forms, and have physical examinations. The adults were a little disappointed. We lined up and were given numbers. The same Chinese man gave Dad, Uncle Yi Jieng, Uncle Dony and Uncle Chu each a form, since they were considered separate heads of households. Uncle Chu claimed Ah Kieng as his wife… it was easier to file the application listing Ah Kieng as his wife than a fiancée since he didn’t need to provide a marriage certificate. After all, when you fled your country, you were bound to lose documents. The Chinese man took us into another office, where there were other Chinese and Vietnamese assistants who could speak English. We were divided into three groups and assigned to different assistants. Our interpreter spoke fluent Cantonese, so communication was not a problem. As we answered his questions, he filled out the forms for us in English. Dad and Uncle Yi Jieng were able to file their forms with toppriority status, as they were Vietnam Veterans. The Americans gave special considerations to those who had fought in the
Vietnam War. Uncle Chu and Uncle Dony filed as refugees, based on economic hardship. It did not take long to complete the forms. Copies of these forms would be given to each of the foreign representatives. We designated the United States as our first choice. They led us into another office where we met a Malaysian doctor. With the interpreter translating, the doctor interviewed Mom and Dad about our family’s health history. Then we were escorted into another room where, to our embarrassment, we were told to disrobe for our physical exams. We had a blood test and x-rays taken of our lungs. We were measured, weighed, and examined thoroughly. After the examination, we had our visa pictures taken. One by one, we stepped in front of the camera and smiled. Once back home, Mom lit the stove and began to cook. We were so hungry we ate like noisy pigs, oblivious to etiquette. We also had to eat fast because provisions were going to be distributed later in the day, and we wanted to secure our place in line so we would not have so long a wait. As Dad, Kuang, and I walked toward the distribution point, the sounds of profuse and loud profanity reached our ears. Our uncles and Grandpa Tang were already line, so we went to stand with them. People yelled at us for cutting in line. Dad barked, “We’re with them. They have been holding our place in line. And what are you going to do about it?” He stared the trouble makers down as Kuang and I stood with our fists at the ready. They were outnumbered, and wise in deciding to shut their mouths. The workers distributing the food were also refugees. They unloaded buckets of food out of a truck and several Red Cross vans. They had fresh meat and vegetables, as well as noodles, rice, and canned goods. For the first time in months, we were to have fresh meat and vegetables. We were thrilled. Later, we found out that those refugees who worked received special privileges. They were paid very little, but they were allowed to travel into the city to pick up the food. They were also allowed to take extra food home, and occasionally they profited by selling their surplus goods. Even more to their advantage was the fact that their volunteer service would go on record for the foreign representatives to see. The representatives in the States were more likely to accept people who had performed volunteer work. And Dad wanted to volunteer. He would do
anything to speed up the immigration. Mom was delighted to see the amount of food we brought back. Kuang and I told Fong that there was fighting in the food line. She wished that she had been there to see it herself. The three of us went to see our cousins. We headed back to the camp entrance to observe the spectacle at the food line. Although there were fewer people and less noise, there was still some screaming and fighting. When we returned home, our parents and younger siblings were waiting patiently for us with a clean change of clothing. We followed our parents to the showers. The men’s shower room was packed. Since the shower room was going to close soon, we undressed immediately and found ourselves a place next to the cement reservoir. The sides of the pool were so high that we could not manage to scoop out the water ourselves. We needed Dad to help. Cong, Kuang and I saw some kids close to our age kneeling near the wastewater water drain, polishing something against the floor. Curious, we decided to go over and see what they were doing. When we got there, we saw they were polishing a bit of coconut shell. Adding water here and there, they rubbed and burnished. We asked what they were doing. One boy replied, “We’re making a ring.” A ring out of coconut shell… how exciting… and we wanted to make a ring also. The boy was friendly, and told us in great detail how to make rings out of coconut shell. We thanked him for this lesson. We looked at each other and decided this would be one of our projects for the next day. When Mom was cooking dinner, Kuang and I decided to go look for coconut shells at the dumpsite near our home. The trash smelled horrendous. We each grabbed a stick and poked through the trash but found nothing. We moved on to a larger dumpsite at the entrance of the camp. This site was big and it too smelled foul. We climbed into the trash, wearing only flip-flops. Our feet were quickly covered in filth. We combed over the garbage until we finally came up with a few coconut shells. Although they were dirty, we clutched them as if they were gold. After one week Phuong, Cong, Fong, Kuang and I each had made a ring out of coconut shell. It took us a couple of days to fashion the coconut shells into rings. We proudly showed them off to Mom. She smiled and said, “Oh how beautiful! And did you
guys make one for me and your lovely sisters also?” She joked just to hear us giggle. A Chinese official interrupted us. He told Mom that a representative from Switzerland wanted to see us. We were to follow him right that instant. This was truly good news! We had never expected to be seen by any foreigners in only a week. We quickly met up with our grandparents and went to the office of the Swiss representative. Fanning the Fire The foreigner was a tall man, with blonde hair, blue eyes and light skin. He looked so different from us that I was a little hesitant to get close to him. I moved quickly behind Mom and Dad, holding onto Fong and Kuang’s hands. He spoke with the Chinese official, who interpreted for us. The Chinese official told us that because Phuong had a disability (one of her legs was deformed), there was someone in Switzerland interested in sponsoring us. We could leave the camp within a month if we wished to accept the offer. Mom looked at Dad, who in turn looked at his parents. Grandma Ho said, “We should accept the offer. This way we don’t have to remain on the island any longer.” Grandpa Tang nodded in agreement with Grandma Ho’s line of thinking. Mom asked the Chinese official, “So what are our chances of going to America?” “To be honest,” he said, “Your family’s chances are no greater that any other family who applied to go to America. It’ll take a long time before an American representative will interview your family. Simply put, everyone wants to go to the United States. And your family consists of eight children and four adults, it’s quite large. It’ll probably take a longer time… more difficult to find an American sponsor having that kind of money to pay for your family’s journey. It’ll cost too much.” He looked straight in Mom’s eyes. Mom nodded as she listened. Then, she asked the Chinese official, “Will it be possible that we have some time to think about the Swiss offer.” “Quite frankly, I highly recommend you to accept the offer,” the Chinese official suggested. “If it were not for your niece’s disability, your family wouldn’t have been so fortunate as to have received an offer to leave the camp so soon. You know how many people wish to have this opportunity?”
Stubborn as she was, Mom insisted that we needed more time. The Chinese official explained this to the Swiss representative, who simply smiled. In retrospect, the Swiss representative must have been amused by our stupidity, with our uncompromising persistence to go to America, and willing to endure more hardship living in the refugee camp. Just as we exited the office, Grandma Ho told Mom, “We should accept the offer. If you don’t, God knows how long we’ll be stuck here.” Grandma Ho rolled her eyes. Mom quickly retorted, “I want the family to go to the United States, not to Switzerland.” This made Grandma Ho and Grandpa Tang angry. It was clear from what Mom just said that she had been polite to the Chinese official and had not rejected the offer in front of the Swiss representative. She had only America in mind and would not relocate anywhere else. Grandpa Tang remarked, “If we accept the Swiss offer, we won’t have to stay here much longer. Don’t you think that’s a good idea?” Grandpa Tang turned to Dad. Dad looked at the floor. Mom got really mad. She shouted, “The purpose of the journey is to benefit the children, not for you.” She glared at the grandparents with daggers in her eyes, “The family will go to America and nowhere else. Whether you like it or not, the decision is final!” Dad was heated that Mom spoke to his parents in this manner, “Dammit, do you have to shout crazily like that? You can understand why they didn’t want to fucking stay here any longer, right?” Now the twins were crying in Mom’s arms. “There, there… love… there’s no need to cry. Everything will be fine. Mommy’s here.” She rocked and bounced the twins. “There’s nothing to fear. Who dares to harm you, huh? Mommy’s here… no crying, all right?” Anh was pulling on Mom’s pants and began to cry. She also wanted Mom to carry her, to comfort her. But Mom only had two hands. Mom stared at Fong. “Carry your sister will you?” she told Fong. Mom glared at Dad, “If you want to go to Switzerland… that’s fine with me. You, your parents, Phuong and Cong could claim yourselves as one family and go. I’ll take my children to America.” And Mom stormed out of the building without turning to look at Dad. Fong, with Anh now crying loudly in her arms, Kuang and I quickly chased after Mom. Nosy people gawked at us.
That evening Mom was very angry and her face was red. We waited for Dad to come back home, but he did not return. When dinner was ready Mom told us, “Eat now before the food gets cold.” Not wanting to upset her further, we did as we were told. We wanted to save the leftovers for Dad, but she threw the remaining food into the trash. When Dad finally came home, he gave Mom mean looks and the silent treatment. Mom gave him the same in return. They did not speak or quarrel, which was odd considering they both had short tempers. Dad said, “I’ve eaten at my parents.” Mom did not respond. Fong, Kuang and I sat on the edge of our bed kicking the sand with our feet. Mom ordered us to go to bed, even though it was earlier than our usual bedtime. She climbed into the mosquito tent and blew out the light. She refused to sleep next to Dad, instead sleeping between the twins. The next day Mom told the Chinese official that we intended to wait for a representative from the United States. This decision made the grandparents furious. They argued with Mom that because Dad was the head of the household, he should be the one to decide such important matters. And from that day on, the grandparents were guilty of put four, fanning the fire. They were the reason there was no peace in the family. I could understand why the grandparents wanted to leave the refugee camp as soon as possible. They were old, and the journey had been exhausting for them. But Mom did have a point. My parents’ purpose in leaving Vietnam was to seek a better future for their children, not because of the grandparents or Phuong. I did not know which place was better, Switzerland or the United States, but if Mom thought America was better, I felt I should support her. Fong and Kuang felt the same and we began to dislike our grandparents for causing so much trouble. By late October, I’d just turned eight. Uncle Dony, Uncle Chu and his fiancée Ah Kieng, and the family were summoned to the foreign affairs office. We were very happy, for we thought that at last the American representative wanted to see us. We showed up early, but it turned out that nothing had really changed. The same Chinese official told us, “You should reconsider relocating to Switzerland. It’s really no different from America. And if you accept the offer, you’ll be leaving in a month or so. Who would want to stay here longer than that?”
The grandparents stared at Dad. “Well…. what do you think?” Grandma Ho asked. Dad knew that if he accepted the offer, he would be traveling alone with his parents, Phuong, and Cong. This time, staring at the floor, he informed the Chinese official, “We’ll wait for a response from the United States. I know it’s going to be a longer wait but America is… well… it’s where the family wants to go to… please thank the Swiss representative for extending his generous offer to bring the family to Switzerland.” Dad shook the Chinese official’s hand with sincere gratitude and he smiled. Mom smiled also, for the first time in a while, when she heard Dad finally was on her side. The grandparents burst from the office without a word. Dad ran after them as the rest of us remained. The Chinese official then informed us that Canada had accepted Uncle Dony, Uncle Chu and his fiancée Ah Kieng. If they accepted the offer, they would go to yet another refugee camp, where they would await a flight. Although they were ecstatic, they did not immediately accept the offer. Uncle Chu told the Chinese official, “We need some time to talk this over with the family. As you’re aware, we all want to go to the United States together.” “I do understand why you want to talk it over with the family,” the Chinese official responded with understanding in his voice. “I have a family of my own and most certainly don’t want to be separated from them. But one thing to keep in mind… it will be impossible to sponsor the nineteen of you to the United States together, let alone to the same city. Think about it and let me know as soon as you make a decision.” Being sponsored to leave the camp was supposed to be good news. But none of us were happy. Somberly, we went to Aunty Tam’s home. We all wanted to go to America together. However, after a lengthy discussion, Mom and Aunty Tam convinced them to accept the offer. Mom explained, “You two are single and have never fought in the Vietnam War. You probably would have an even longer wait to go to America. Life’s too short to waste your youth here. You should go to Canada and get an education. I’m sure one day we’ll see each other again.” Tears were streaming down their faces. “Really, it is the best decision,” Aunty Tam added when Uncle Dony and Uncle Chu agreed to accept the Canadian offer.
When we went over to the grandparents’ house, we saw Grandma Ho and Grandpa Tang shouting hotly at Dad. “You’re being selfish,” Grandma Ho accused. “You didn’t care about Phuong and her disability. How can you face your brother in the future? Phuong can have the best treatment in Switzerland for her leg.” Switzerland apparently had a good reputation for its quality care in medical rehabilitation for the handicapped. Mom responded strongly to this point. “I’m sick and tired of you using Phuong as an excuse,” She shouted at them, her eyes sparked with fire. “I understand very well myself that the journey has been rough and sometimes almost unbearable… but let me remind you for the hundredth time, the reason we left Vietnam is so my children will have a better future… a better chance in life. I risk my life… my family’s life… all for the sake of my children. What is it the two of you can’t seem to understand?” Fed up with Grandma Ho and Grandpa Tang’s intransigence, Mom took us home. Because Dad was stuck in the middle, he tried to talk some sense into his folks. They would not cede their point. Dad stayed behind, hoping his parents would eventually forgive him. It was evident that Dad was not able to convince his parents of anything. He was silent all through dinner. Mom did not say a word either, making us feel especially uncomfortable. Grandma Ho took to stirring up trouble. “Your lovely wife has been giving food to her brothers and sister instead of cooking for the children,” she told Dad and put a vindictive twist on the information just to make Dad angry. The fact was, we could not have finished the food anyway. The three youngsters ate very little, and if we had not given the food away, it would have spoiled. Grandma Ho seemed to forget we had no refrigerator. Dad stormed into the tent and yelled at Mom. Being the tough woman that she was, she shouted back. “Yes, it’s true. I have been giving leftovers to my brothers and sister. Your children aren’t starved as your mother claimed. If I didn’t give the food away it would spoil and God would be sure to punish us for being wasteful.” No matter what Mom said, Dad refused to listen. She got so worked up that she stormed over to the grandparents’ place. “You two are to mind your goddamn business. You’re not the only ones living in discomfort. The whole family is going through the same hardship. You two must stop stirring up shit, inciting quarrels… and keep your mouths shut.” The twins cried loudly in Mom’s
arms. She looked at them, rocked them and spoke softly. “There, there, Mommy’s sorry to be this loud, scaring you. Yes… yes… we’re going home. No more shouting, scaring my lovely children.” She glared at the grandparents again, and raised her voice. “Let me ask you… are you happy that there’s no peace in the family? You enjoy watching us fight and see your grandchildren cry? Is that what you like?” The grandparents didn’t answer and Grandma Ho rolled her eyes. Watching Mom disrespecting his parents as neighbors looked on and whispered made Dad more angry. He had lost face. No one was allowed to disrespect his parents. For a moment I thought that Dad was going to hit Mom. Thankfully, the uncles pulled him away before anything happened. The neighbors pointed, whispered, and laughed maliciously as Mom held onto Kim and Ngan tightly and angrily stomped home, demanding all of us to follow her. So Fong carried Anh, who was crying as dreadfully as the twins. Kuang and I followed along. Mom’s face was so red and her eyes so wide that she would knock anything and everything in her path… so angry she could eat a live tiger. Once again, Dad stayed with his parents for dinner. Mom pretended not to care; there was no time for her to think anyway. Anh, Kim and Ngan seemed to know Mom and Dad were fighting. They demanded more of Mom’s attention and kept her occupied when they were fighting. When the youngsters went to sleep, she kept at washing our clothes and cleaning our tiny space, when there was nothing to be cleaned. She scrubbed the bottom of the pots, harder and harder each stroke, trying to get all the soot out. Weeks passed with no word from the United States representative, a fact that the grandparents were quick to rub in. Their words incited Dad to greater rage. He was sometimes so angry that he did not sleep at home, preferring to squeeze in with his parents. Dad was in his thirties, yet behaved like a child. He didn’t like to think. Perhaps that was why Mom was really the head of the family. The grandparents, who believed it was a wife’s duty to serve, obey without question, and stay home to care for the children, considered Mom evil. They did not believe a woman should run their son’s life. Of course, they did not acknowledge that they were guilty of the same offense. Dad was a highly intelligent man. He had become quite
successful at a young age and excelled in the family’s meat business. By the time he married Mom, he was running his own meat business. Even so, he was never an independent thinker. The people he loved and respected had always easily influenced him. And his filial regard for his parents brought much turmoil to our family. The constant bickering made both of them highly irritable. As a result, we kids had to be on our best behavior all the time. Admirably, Mom had never raised her voice at us despite how annoying Dad had become. Our parents’ shouting made such a racket that our neighbors had to, separate them, time and again. They often frightened Anh, three, and Kim and Ngan, now two. They cried uncontrollably. Mom felt guilty and attempted to calm them by saying, “There, there, my princesses… mommy’s sorry to have made you cry again… please try to forgive ma.” She pulled the three of them close to her body, wrapping them tightly in her arms. “No more crying, okay? Crying babies look very ugly. You don’t want to look ugly, do you?” Aunty Tam, and the uncles helped to separate my parents many times also, but this made the grandparents even angrier… that the uncles and Aunty Tam were siding with Mom. There were so many people against their son.
About the Author The third of seven children, at seven years old, Langelo and his extended family fled communist Vietnam. He arrived in Boston, Massachusetts in the summer of 1980 after surviving a year living in Malaysia’s refugee camps. Langelo achieved his American dream in 1996 — a Bachelor of Science degree in Mechanical Engineering from Northeastern University. He soon discovered that pursuing his artistic dreams brought a deeper meaning and happiness to his life. He began to paint, to write, to dance, after losing his brother in a motorcycle accident. He performs and dances in theaters, exhibits his oil paintings, and is seeking the right representation for his three books, Learning to Breathe: A Memoir, A Blind Step Forward: A Memoir, and a murder mystery Hell: A Place on Earth. He is working on two new books. On January 9, 2007, Langelo opened an art gallery café named Flamepoeira, inspired by his training in flamenco and the Brazilian martial art capoeira. Aside from exhibiting his own work at Flamepoeira, he offers a haven where people can build relationships and exhibit their work. "The sun will shine only if you allow it — dreams die because you let them. Happiness is a gift you have to be brave enough to give yourself.”