Independent Independence

Dan woke me up with a kiss and greeting words, “Happy Fourth of July. Thank you for coming to the United States and coming into my life.”
My eyes half closed, my brain was singing, “Việt Nam Việt Nam nghe từ vào đời/ 
Việt Nam hai câu nói trên vành môi/ Việt Nam nước tôi.” (Vietnam, Vietnam is heard for the first time in life/ Vietnam is two syllables on my lips/ Vietnam, my country.) I opened my eyes and sat up immediately. I called, “Dan!”
Dan replied, “Yes, Honey?”
I told him, “I remember my first cognitive Independence. The Independence Day of Vietnam before 1975 was on November First or Second. My father worked in District Khánh Dương, a highland, in Vietnam. The driver took us to Khánh Dương. We got there around 10 a.m. My father was at the ceremony; he ordered the driver to take us to the ceremony to join the feast. They treated us well; I ate a lot of food. I do not remember anything else.”
Dan embraced me. “Honey, you should write the story.”
I shared my thoughts with Dan, “I am confused. All the stories about my family are true. If they are true, I might grow in a wealthy family. However, I don’t think so. We did not have much money. My parents saved every penny to buy knowledge for us.”
A shower of kisses dropped on my body. Dan hummed in my ears, “You are my princess; an independent princess who came from Vietnam. I love Vietnam. Vietnam is an independent country like my little independent princess.”

Los Angeles: July 4th, 2014

The Full Circle

The Full Circle

For Dan on Your Birthday

            In the fragrant candlelight, I was listening to the piano music, Nocturne by Chopin that Dan gave me that afternoon. Through the glass window, the round, soft yellow moon slowly danced over the horizon. Dan called me: “Honey!”

            I turned my head back to Dan. Dan carefully opened the red square velvet and took out the ring. Holding the ring, Dan knelt; he asked, “Will you marry me?”

            I was shocked; I stared at Dan. Dan repeated, “Will you marry me?”

            I kept silent; Dan held my left hand and put the gold diamond onto my ring finger. My tears fell down. I embraced Dan. He carried me to the bed. He dried my tears; caressed my face; he murmured, “I love you, Honey! You are the woman whom I have dreamed of for a long time. From now, I obey you as a servant. I am a servant of our immaculate love. This diamond is the token of my pure love, as hard and sparkling as the diamond. When I put it on your ring finger, my love follows the vein to your heart and becomes a unique love.”

            I looked at the ring. Dan continued, “The round shape of the ring is symbolic of our eternal love. The love goes around and never ends. The round shape is a strong shape; it is hard to break. The gold is endurance; it can bend easily. Our love is endured in front of hardship, but it also bends and is flexible.”

            Dan kissed my finger. He kept talking: “Honey, I am not a good man. In the past, I made mistakes. I have many flaws, but I am trying to change my lifestyle to be a good man and bring you peace and happiness.”

            I told Dan, “Dan, you are a mighty American with free, blue eyes that I fell in love with the first time I set foot on this land. A few years ago, at the Citizenship Ceremony, I was engaged to Uncle Sam, my ideological man. I love the United States, not just because of its virtues and wealth, but I also love the United States with its dark sides. You are the United States with its integrity and villain. Now, my engagement is a full circle. I am engaged to the United States in both intellect and physicality; in the abstract and the concrete.”

--Anhthao Bui

The Prayers of Thanksgiving 2013

In San Jose, fall comes later than in other cities. Mother Nature lazily puts on a mild light jacket over her short dress. She indifferently puts light yellow makeup on her green eyelids, lavender lipstick, and maroon foundation powder on her dry face, burgundy lotion on her neck, and chocolate sun block on her limbs. She playfully mixes olive, silver, alabaster, and magenta peacock skin care mixture on her silky body. Mother Nature looks at herself in the mirror; she laughs out loud; in the mirror is a colorful Halloween Clown. She goes to the dry hill covered with pale leaves where children are playing. The children greet her, “Hello, New Harvest Season! Welcome back, with red, orange, and walnut Thanksgiving! Sorry, healthy Turkey. We promise to stay away from Halloween chocolate candies.”

Mother Nature gently embraces the children and says, “Hi, my future Americans, keep warm and don’t forget the homeless, hungry children! Pray for the unfortunate people and our government.”

A Girl with a black pony tail questions Her: “Why don’t you mention our parents and educators who care for us the most?”

Mother Nature grins and praises the Girl: “Good question my dear! You always carry them in your hearts; you remember and pray for them during your entire life. Let them take a break. The U.S. government needs your prayers more than ever before.”

A Curly-Haired Boy with dark skin puts his hand to his forehead and salutes Mother Nature in a military style: “Yes, Madam!”

Mother Nature laughs loudly, “Ha…ha….ha…”

A Blue-Eyed Boy cries, “Stand still! Salute the flag!”

The children follow the Blue-Eyed Boy’s direction. They put their right hands on the left side of their chests, raise their heads ups, and read aloud, “I pledge Allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, one nation under God…”

Mother Nature cheers them, “I am proud of you, the American future!”

Mother Nature gives an American flag pin to each child. The children quickly put the flag pins on their shirts and blouses. They hold hands, make a circle, and slowly move around Mother Nature. She sings with them, “God bless America; land that I love….” They point to Her and say, “Mother Nature is the United States. The United States is Mother Nature.”

She touchingly sobs, “Thank you for choosing me as a symbol of the United States. I am honored to represent your young country.”

Mother Nature starts singing, “This land is your land; this land is my land....”

The children continue: “From California to the New York Islands…” They point to a Blond-Haired Girl and sing, “You are America!”

The Blond-Haired Girl says, “I am the European American. Our ancestors came to the New Word on the famous Mayflower ship.”

They point to the dark-skinned Boy, who says, “I am proud of my ancestors, although they came to the United States as slaves.”

A Round-Faced Girl asks them, “Don’t you know our ancestors made American transportation run smoothly? With their bare hands and human strength, they made many tunnels through the mountains.”

A Girl with big, round black eyes and a long, colorful skirt adds, “Without our ancestors’ help, the U.S. crops would rot in the fields. I am a Latina American.”

A Quiet Girl holds the letter S on her hand and says, “Look, our country’s shape is shared with California’s shape. We are the youngest ethnic community in the United States. We have helped the American economy to grow during the 80s and 90s.”

“This land was made for you and for me…”

Confetti rain pours down to interrupt their assembly. They look up; over the horizon, a rainbow has appeared. Inside the rainbow are the words: “You are America. Our future is yours, young trees.”

San Jose, November 2013

Our Hero

Our Hero By Anhthao Bui


Last night, Dan said to me, “Honey, tomorrow we will meet our hero: the greatest man in the world.”
My eyes were wide open to ask him, “Really? Who? Where? And when?”
Dan laughed, “Ms. Bui, I’m not your student! Why so serious?”
I embarrassedly told him, “I'm not talking to you with my teacher’s voice.”
Dan laughed loudly and recited as he sung, “Ms. Bui, who, what, where, when, and why are teacher’s words to teach writing.”
I understood and hit him, “Oh, I am sorry. Mr. Lambert, you’re a bad boy. You tease Ms. Bui.”
I went back to the question, “Dan, aren't we going to Disneyland tomorrow? Don’t tell me that our plan is changing.”
Dan embraced me, “No, Baby. Wait and see tomorrow.”
With a sleepy voice, I agreed with him, “Okay!”

At Disneyland, the "Great Moments With Mr. Lincoln" show is located in a huge building located in Main Street near the entrance to Disneyland. A big sign on top of the building reads: “Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln.” When we enter the theatre, our eyes hit the capital Dome model that is in the central hall. Abraham Lincoln's portrait is on the wall facing the entrance. A black bust of Lincoln is in the left corner. Photos of Lincoln surround us. Two men in nineteenth-century attire, wearing bow ties, coats and tails, warmly welcome us and direct us to the show in the adjoining theater.
We walk in and find our seats. As we sit down, the doors are closed, and an announcer welcomes us. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we welcome you to Great Moments With Mister Lincoln.” A beautiful, scarlet curtain is slowly raised, and the United States’ significant landscapes and symbols are projected onto a screen, accompanied by the song, “America the Beautiful.” I sing along with the song: “America! America! God mend thine ev'ry flaw / Confirm thy soul in self-control / Thy liberty in law.” My hot, patriotic blood makes my face turn red. This is the United States which I love! I believe that the dark clouds of the recession facing our country will end soon. We Americans will mend every flaw through each individual American’s ability, because the universal echo of the Liberty Bell rumbles around the world.

The announcer introduces Abraham Lincoln, the sixteenth President of the United States. A painting of Lincoln fills the screen. He sits at a table in dim light, writing his autobiography. Lincoln shares with me his childhood and his youth, saying: “I was born in Kentucky in a log cabin. At a very young age, an axe was put into my hands and I began to use this most useful instrument.” Lincoln recalls his hard work, his love of books, his self-education, and the many times he overcame hardships to succeed.

I sit up straight, my eyes directly looking at the scene without blinking. My eyes are wet; I am in the nineteenth century in Kentucky; in the log cabin. I have traveled back in time to meet Abraham Lincoln. Dan warmly holds my hands. The screen shifts to the Civil War and battlefield illustrations accompanied by the song “Two Brothers.” This is the story of two brothers fighting on both sides of the Civil War: the North and the South. The curtain closes to the sound of Abraham Lincoln’s inauguration speech.
The voice of announcer Paul Frees bellows from the speakers. “We pay tribute here not to the man who lived a century ago, but to the individual who lives today in the hearts of all freedom people.” Oh, yeah! So that is why I adore Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln is not only in the heart of the original Americans, but he is the hero of African Americans, Asian Americans, Hispanic Americans, and others who come to the United States to share the radiance of the Torch of Liberty.
The curtain opens, and Abraham Lincoln sits on a big, overstuffed red chair in the dim light. The background is red. He gradually stands up. His hand holds a piece of white paper. His eyes survey the crowd and land on me. I dare not breathe because I am afraid my breath is going to pollute the immaculate atmosphere. Finally, I am meeting Abraham Lincoln in person. My blood is frozen; my heart stands still. I rub my eyes. Am I sleeping and in a dream or am I awake? Lincoln finishes his address; the address in which he reminds us that if our country fails, it will be because it has rotted from within. No foreign power can destroy America without the cooperation and culpability of the American people.
As Lincoln sits down, the background changes to blue behind him. The tiny stars twinkle and the dawn breaks over the sky. The curtain closes.
My hand is still in Dan’s hand. I am petrified. I murmur, “Dan, I have met Abraham Lincoln, our great hero. How honored I am.”
Dan nods, “I know, Baby. I told you last night.”
I apologize to him, “Sorry for getting mad at you last night.”
I share my thoughts with Dan, “Abraham Lincoln looks real. If I did not know he lived in the nineteenth century, I would have thought that robot is Abraham Lincoln.”
Dan laughs, “My mom also thought that was Abraham Lincoln. When my dad took my mom on their first date, he took her to "Great Moments With Mr. Lincoln" and told her the robot was a real person. First, she believed him, and then she remembered that Abraham Lincoln was dead, but she thought maybe the robot was an actor playing Lincoln. The show first opened in 1965, and it closed for several years before reopening last December.”
I jump up and down, “I am lucky to see Abraham Lincoln this time! If I came to Disneyland before, I could not. This is fate.”
Dan winks, “Especially because you went to the show with a special man.”
I lower my voice, “The performance was so amazing. I admire Walt Disney for designing this tribute to Abraham Lincoln. My heart raced when I saw Abraham Lincoln, heard his voice, and lived with the Civil War in the nineteenth century. Lincoln’s speech is liberal. He focuses on the idea of liberty and often repeats the word "freedom." The last words of the speech are about all religions, different languages, and people with different lifestyles, such as domestic partners, coming together to make the United States great. I like this image. When Lincoln started talking, the background was a nighttime scene with stars that represent the stars of our flag. The night represents the hideous Civil War. When Lincoln finished his speech, daybreak appeared which symbolizes Lincoln leading the United States out of the darkness.”
Dan kisses me, “Honey, I can tell how you felt by looking at your face and your eyes during the show.”
I bury my face in his chest, “Thank you for bringing me to the show.”
Dan embraces me in his strong arms, “Darling, thank you for coming to the United States. Thank you for loving the United States and me. Your understanding of history and your love of the United States are huge.”
Dan continues, “The two brothers in the song represent the two sides in the civil War: the North and the South. The Civil War was similar to the Vietnam War. North Vietnam fought against South Vietnam.”
I look at Dan with admiration, “Dan, you are my dream man. I also compare the Civil War and the Vietnam War. We have many things in common, and even our thoughts are similar. I also admire your large knowledge of everything.”
Dan covers me with kisses. We kiss each other in front of Abraham Lincoln’s portrait. Abraham Lincoln gives us his blessing. We share our happiness with President Lincoln.

Farewell

I lay on the cool marble floor of the empty house; my heart was empty too. I did not want to leave my house and Vietnam at all. I wanted to mourn loudly like Mimi, my cat, or showed my emotion like Mimi’s act, but I could not. I scrolled my body around the family room to the bedrooms. I kissed the walls and used the fingernails to write big notes, “This is Bui family’s house forever. Those who live in this house will get bad luck.” On another wall, I wrote, “There is a dead body—gosh, in this house.” I drew a young girl face with long hair and big tongue to the chin. I laughed loudly because I revenged the people who would live in my house by the curse when I left. I tiptoed to the bathroom, turned on the fountain and left it. I turned on all of the lights. I wanted to waste electricity and water to revenge the government to take my house. I crawled like a baby to the kitchen. I looked at the empty stoves and felt hungry. I came to Miss Sương’s kitchen to beg for a hot rice bowl with fish sauce. Since my mother left, Ms. Sương cooked for me. I ran fast to Miss Sương’s house, flashed into her kitchen, and cried, “Miss Sương, I am hungry!”
Miss Sương was surprised, “I thought you already ate at your husband’s house. They made your favorite dishes to celebrate you to go to America.”
I flirted her, “They do not have delicious dishes like yours. I only want to eat your food.”
She asked me, “What do you want to eat now? I am not ready yet because today you might eat at your husband’s house or somewhere else.”
“Please give me a hot rice bowl with fish sauce.”
She was astonished, “Fish sauce again?”
I asked her, “Why not?”
She shook her head, “Vy Vy, you are so strange and different. At special holidays and your important events, you only want to eat rice with fish sauce.”
I laughed, “I was born in poverty, so I like fish sauce.”
Miss Sương sobbed, “Vy Vy, you win my heart. I miss you, baby.”
Tears blocked my throat. I mumbled, “Miss Sương, you are my dear sister. I do not know I can get along with my family or not. We are apart for a long time.”
Miss Sương lifted the lid of the clay casserole. Thin, hot, appetizing smoke of rice soaked up. I was mouth-watering. I swallowed my saliva. Miss Sương took rice in a small thick Japanese bowl and handed it to me. I held the bowl and watched it as if I had never seen rice before. Tiny sticky grains of rice like white pearls. Each pearl was a drop sweat of labor. Miss Sương kept the Vietnamese traditional cook style. She cooked rice in a clay casserole on a charcoal stove. She ordered special rice from Long An, a small town, where was located near Saigon. Thus, the rice was tender and sticky like sweet rice. Also, Miss Sương used the special fish sauce that my aunty made with her secret recipe. I absorbed the rice fish sauce flavor into my lungs. I slowly sipped and nibbled small bites because the following day, I would never eat such rice with fish sauce.

I strolled along Thanh Đa Riverside. The tide was low and still: garbage, dead plants, nylon bags, and light recycle lazily flew over the surface. Two skinny children—a boy and a girl with a dark skin jumped from the bamboo raft into the river. They splashed water and laughed loudly like Ti, Ni, and I often swam in hot summers when we were children. I greedily captured all the images and the sounds and stored them in my memory when I passed by: the blocking apartment, the old elementary school, the middle school and the high school, the trees, the bushes, and the market. I murmured, “Oh, Saigon, I lose you from now! My charming Saigon is alive in my heart forever.”

The engine roared and the plane was shaking; my soul screamed and quaked in terror. I was isolated from my motherland from now on. I was numb and senseless.

APRIL 30, 1975

Ti, Ni, and I went to the Thanh Đa Riverside to pickup lục bình to play under many detonations. Lục bình is a kind of water lily with purple flowers, which lived and flowed on rivers. When the tide was down, Lục Bình was stranded in the bushes that grew at the edges of the river; the mixed stinky smell of mud, death fish, and garbage splashed into my lungs, but I loved strong smell that only existed in Vietnamese rivers.
We joyfully played in front of the balcony of my house while my family gathered in the family room to listen to the radio. Suddenly, a horrible explosion smashed into the air. The house was shaken. My face turned pale. I yelled awfully and crawled into my house under a bed like a little rat, “Ối trời ôi! Tôi chết rồi !” “Oh, I am dying! I am dying.”
My family and my friends followed me to the bed. They cried, “Baby. What happened?”
My Sixth brother announced, “Someone threw bomb at Saigon Bridge.”
My oldest sister nodded, “Yep, President Dương Văn Minh surrendered. Perhaps they did not want Việt Cộng to enter to Saigon, so they destroyed the bridge.”
My father called me, “My little girl. Come here with daddy, baby.”
I persisted, “I am dying. I am dying.”
Ni crawled under the bed, tapped my shoulder, and told me, “Bé, calm down, please. You’re fine. You’re still alive. Get out, please. Your parents and siblings are waiting for you.”
I shook my head, “No, I am scared. I already died.”
Ni reassured me, “Don’t say that, Bé. If you die, you cannot talk.”
Ni and Ti’s parents came to my house and asked them to go home. Ni told me, “I have to go home. Don’t be scared Bé. I will see you this afternoon. Bye, Bé.”
I heard their parents complained about Ti and Ni because they were worried about them. I crawled slowly out of the bed. My parents and my siblings looked serious. My mother said, “The end. No more war! Peaceful!”
I asked, “Mom, can we go anywhere and won’t fear Việt Cộng? Will daddy no longer work as an officer, and will he be a teacher?”
My father briefly said, “Yes, baby.”
I was surprised, “Daddy, why are you so sad when our country is peaceful? You should be happy because your dream came true.”
My father did not answer. I tried to figure out what was happening that day. My father often said that when our country was peaceful, he would work as a teacher, write, or research something. He said that he did not like his job because there was a lot of pressure, and he could not spend time for family. However, today he was sad and quiet. Today my family looked serious and strange. I did not understand why.
I followed my siblings to go to the balcony in order to see airplanes flying over the area. From the airplanes, voices repeated over and over that everyone should come to the Thanh Đa Park where airplanes landed in order to evacuate them; we saw waves of people to come to the riverside toward big boats. My father requested us, “From now, you are not allowed to go out. Việt Cộng will come in Saigon soon, but do not call them Cộng sản or Việt cộng.”
My little brother asked, “Father, why? What do we call them?”
Our father was confused. He posed a little bit, and then he said, “Brothers or uncles.”
My sisters curiously asked my father, “Father, what do they look like?”
“Father, do they have tails?”
“Do they kill and eat children?”
“Do they have fur?”
“Do they wear cloths?”
Our father did not answer. He continued, “Maybe there will be no electricity or water next few days. Thus, we should save water and food.”
He watched our sisters carefully and said, “Take out your necklaces and earrings. Cut your nails short. Try to wear simple clothes. Don’t wear short, dress, or skirt.”
My first sister asked, “Father, are Việt cộng so cruel? Do they take out female nails?”
My father yelled, “Don’t say Việt cộng please. You will be engaged to your boyfriend next month, and maybe get married next two months.
My first sister did not agree with him, “Father, you told me that I was still young. We should wait for a couple of years until I get my bachelor. Why do you change your mind? I am not ready to be a wife yet. I want to go abroad after I get my bachelor’s degree.”
My mother reprimanded her, “You should obey your father. He always wants to do good things for you.”
My parents and my siblings watched and searched my house carefully and burned many pictures and clothes that related to the army. More than that, our parents collected pieces of gold and hid them in secret and safe place at night. My mother explained, “Việt cộng is brutal. They do not like rich people. Your grandparents were killed because they were landlords and owned many pieces of land.
I heard the story about our grandparents over and over. My parents told us that communists killed our grandparents because they were landowners and rich. Only my maternal grandfather survived. He was kept in a small and deep hole with water to his neck. Thus, he was afraid of water. I did not like my maternal grandfather because he was dirty. He never bathed or cleaned his body. He wore the same cloth once a week. My parents complained and hit me because I avoided him, and I did not let him touch me. I often hid in a corner when he visited us.

My father looked serious and strange. I secretly followed his action. I did not want him in that mood at all. I wanted to help him, or to say something nice, but I knew that silence was best.
My father stayed late in his office. He took a small Colt in a drawer; he watched it carefully; He held the colt and lightly touched it as if it were a treasure. He held in his hand and put it on the table again and again. He frowned. His pupils were light and only focused on the colt. He bitterly sighed many times. I saw some gray hairs on his forehead. I wanted to pluck them out. He bit his lips hard and that made his chin squarer. His cheeks turned dark, and no longer pink white like his natural skin. His cheeks were sunken. I have never seen he was haggard like that. I wished to read what he was thinking. I could not bear to see my father in that situation. I did not know what happened. He leaned his head on the desk. He shook his head. His shoulders agitated. I silently squirmed under the desk, slightly hugged his leg. He immediately startled, and he took the Colt with a cautious act. His eyes were two blazing red fires toward me, but the fires died out right away when he noticed me. He gently put me on his thighs and sweetly asked me, “My little girl. What are you doing here? Why don’t you go to sleep? It’s late.”
I put my head on his chest and sobbed. He comforted me, “I am sorry. Today I was too busy to forget you. I know this morning you were very scared. It was over. I promise to protect you from now. I do not let anything harm my children.” He embraced, kissed, and took me to sleep in his bed that night.