What made me Vietnamese

What Made Me Vietnamese?

Eric Liu, Bill Clinton’s ex-speechwriter, in his book of essays, The Accidental Asian, cited a quote from another writer, a Hispanic, who wrote; “What made me Mexican? The language and the air, I guess.” Reading Liu’s citation of the quote unmoored my mind and I saw it drifting across time and space, back to the land I was growing up during my formative years, the land called Vietnam.

I recalled visiting my maternal grandmother in Vung Liem District (birthplace of Vo Van Kiet), Vinh Long Province every summer up until 1963 when the war intensified to a level that made traveling unsafe and unwise. I recalled getting up early in the morning with my Mom. We would catch a motorized pedicab to the bus depot. I was cold in the chill of early morning and I snuggled close to my Mom seeking warmth and comfort while the pedicab was racing to its destination. The commotion created by the throngs of passengers and the shouts of the bus drivers’ assistants competing for business stayed forever in my impressionable mind. Also stayed in my mind were the countless rice paddies and the ferry crossings of the Mekong River. The beige water of the life-giving river was dotted with bobbing, floating vegetation. Looking at the river coursing and the small waves the ferry left behind in its wake, I felt alive and happy and connected to the land.

The connection was intensified by the language I acquired at school. Through it, I learned about our beautiful poetry and our long history to stay alive and independent from Chinese rule. I learned about our valiant ancestors who had no fear of the more numerous Chinese and who had sacrificed their blood so that we today could speak Vietnamese and enjoy our songs and poetry and jokes in Vietnamese and not in Chinese. This enjoyment is in danger of disappearing if the current intellectuals, the supposed leaders of the society, show nothing but fear towards China. We must act in accordance with the duty entrusted in us and rise up in concert with our fellow intellectuals in Vietnam to resist China NOW before it is too late. I humbly and earnestly ask fellow Mitchongs who still care about Vietnam but who are sitting on the sidelines, please join us on board and put your name in the petition being circulated by anh Hung Cao who spearheaded this project solely from the love of his heart for our fellow fishermen, for our beloved Vietnam, not from any political ambitions.

Please join us. You will feel better because deep in your heart, you know you’ve done the right thing and all the money and the expectations spent on making who you are today were not wasted. In life there comes a moment we have to live for others than just for ourselves. Robert Ardrey, in one of his two famous books (African Genesis and Territorial Imperative, I don’t recall which one) recounted a story of a leopard waiting in ambush of a troop of baboons which returned to its hideout after a day foraging in the valley below. When the leopard attacked, instantly a group of male baboons flung themselves on it. The leopard killed several male baboons but one baboon managed to sink its long canines into the throat of the leopard and the leopard died and the troop of baboons survived. The baboons went on with their lives, the lost baboons were replaced by a new generation, and life as experienced by the baboons continues to this day in that part of Africa. After I read that story at the age of twenty five in the wee hours of a Sunday morning, I vowed to myself that I would act in a manner no less than that of the male baboons should the time come. Such time has arrived.

Long Live Vietnam.

Wissai
July 2009