Hope: A Story About Vong

Part 3 — America: A New Beginning

Vong’s family flew from Palawan to Manila, then from the Ninoy Aquino International Airport to the San Francisco International Airport in California. Vong had never been on an airplane before and so he was very excited during the long flight that he was hardly able to sleep. He looked out the window at the clouds and thought of all the wonderful things he had heard about America. He could not wait to see America.

At the airport, Vong’s family is met by a group of happy nuns from Catholic Charities. They bring Vong and his family to Oakland, a city by the bay, and helped them settle into their three-bedroom apartment in a government housing project. This small apartment would be their new home and though it was small, especially for eight people, and had only one bathroom, nobody complained. They were simply happy to live together in a place where they could begin their life in America.

If living in a refugee camp was a surprise to Vong, living in Oakland was very different. It was a whole new world compared to Vietnam. There were also so many people from all walks of life; they looked and dressed differently and spoke languages that Vong had never heard before.

Even after sunset, the city did not go to sleep. It seemed even more alive with bright streetlights, loud music streaming from car radio and even sporadic police sirens.

Unlike in the small village where everyone grew their own food, the food in Oakland was bought from large supermarkets where they were in colorful packages neatly lined up in shelves. Even the fruits and vegetables, which were bigger than those Vong had seen, were well-arranged while the drinks and meats were kept in gigantic fridges which sent a cool breeze against Vong’s cheeks each time he opened them.

Indeed, everything looked so nice that just a visit to the supermarket alone was a treat for Vong. They receive government food stamps with a strict budget of about $3 a day per person for food. They did not have much money and so they bought only the essentials such as rice, green vegetables and fish. They couldn’t afford the salty snacks, the colorful drinks and sweets that Vong loved to look at.

Sometimes, the family ran out of food stamps before the end of the month, Grandma and Grandpa put on their hats and walked to the local food bank for some free bags of food. The bag contains cans of sardines that had recently expired but were still good to eat and apples and cabbages with few brown spots that did not look good enough to be displayed on the supermarket shelves but were still good enough to eat.

Vong was thankful for the free food, but he knew it was only a last resort, just a temporary way to keep food in their stomachs until they could make ends meet again. He knew that receiving free food made his Grandma and Grandpa uncomfortable since it was as shameful as begging for them.

Once Vong and his family had settled in, it was time for Vong and his three older brothers to enroll in the local public school. Vong was a little scared to be going to a new school in a new country. He was afraid he wouldn’t fit in, especially since he did not speak any English.

On his first day of school, Vong gathered his courage and told himself to be brave. He wanted to study so that he could help his mother and father someday. He put on his newest t-shirt from the Goodwill store, which was where second-hand clothes were sold for very low prices. The t-shirt was two sizes too big but Vong did not complain. Instead, he tucked the extra length inside his pants.

Since his Mom and Dad were both busy working at their new jobs, Vong walked to Lockwood Elementary School with his Grandma and Grandpa. Two of his older brothers would be attending the Havenscourt Middle School adjacent his school while his oldest brother was going to Fremont High School at the opposite end of town.

Vong and his Grandma and Grandpa went straight to the principal’s office to enroll Vong in the fourth grade. They had to fill out many forms with a translator; it took them over an hour to fill out all the forms. The principal, who was a nice old woman with thin glasses, reviewed the forms. She went through all of them quickly then went back to the very first one.

“Hmm, I like your name,” she said. “But I notice that you don’t have a nickname. Would you like to come up with one?”

“Vong is my name,” Vong answered with the help of the translator.

“I understand,” the principal said. “But sometimes, a nickname is easier for other kids.”

Vong understood what the principal was trying to say but he didn’t want any other name. “I’d like to keep my name if that’s okay,” he said.

“Got it, then!” The principal nodded with a smile.

After leaving the principal’s office, Vong’s Grandma and Grandpa head back home. Alone, Vong feels scared again but he told himself to be brave and kept his shoulders straight. The principal walked Vong to Rm. 126 to meet the instructor who dressed in a bright pink floral blouse and beautiful, long dreadlocks.

The principal turned to Vong. “This is Ms. Carter.”

Vong nodded, understanding.

“I’m happy to have you in my class, Vong,” Ms. Carter said as she gave him a hug. Then, she led Vong inside the classroom so that he could stand in front of the class. “Everyone, may I have your attention please. This is our new classmate, Vong. Vong is a refugee from Vietnam and he and his family just arrived so please give him a warm welcome.”

His classmates just stared at him curiously, making Vong start to feel uncomfortable. He was glad when he was finally led to his seat by the window, although even then, he could feel some of the stares following him. He could even hear some students murmuring about him, though he couldn’t understand exactly what they were murmuring about.

In fact, Vong could not understand anyone else in the class. When everyone stood up to recite the Pledge of Allegiance, Vong also stood up with his right hand on his chest, but said nothing. In addition, Vong realized that he was the smallest in the class, with his feet barely touching the floor when he was seated and he was beginning to think he wouldn’t really fit in.

Recess was even worse. Although Vong followed his classmates out of the classroom, he didn’t have anyone to play with since he didn’t know anyone and didn’t speak a word of English. He didn’t even know where to sit so he just stood near the playground and watched the other children play. They looked like they were having so much fun and wishing he could join them.

Suddenly, a group of kids approached Vong, forming a circle around him. At first, Vong thought they were going to ask him to play with them and he smiled but when he saw the looks on their faces, he frowned.

“Look at this illegal alien,” one of them said. “He’s so skinny he must be very poor.”

“He’s got a funny name, too,” another said.

“And look at that rag he’s wearing,” yet another said. “Yuck!”

They started laughing at him as they came up with funny names. Vong could not understand but he knew that the kids were making fun of him. Even so, he tried to ignore them but when they began to push him around, he pushed them back and stared each of them in the eyes. Sure, he looked different from them and he was new, but he was not afraid. He knew he was just as strong and as smart as they were.

Seeing that Vong was not afraid, the children didn’t know what else to do and left him alone. For a moment, Vong thought about running to Ms. Carter and telling her what had just happened but he realized he did not know how to tell her and so he just clenched his fists in frustration. He felt sad and frustrated but after a while, he remembered what his father had said about going forward no matter how hard things were, because they were sure to always get better, and so he kept his chin up and went to sit on an empty bench nearby.

From the bench, Vong continued to watch the other kids playing, some of them swinging on the monkey bars, others playing tag and basketball. Feeling lonely, he suddenly wished he had his old blue and white rhombus-shaped kite. He started to imagine he was flying it across the playground with his classmates cheering him on. He was so deep in thought, in fact, that he did not notice a red ball flying in his direction. It bounced off his knees and landed a short distance from his feet. Quickly, he picked it up and handed it to the girl who was running after it.

“Gracias,” the girl said with a bright smile as she got the ball. She went back to her friends and resumed playing kickball but after a while, she came back and signaled Vong to join them. Vong was happy to be able to play with the other kids and was very thankful to the girl, whose name he learned was Lucia, for inviting him. He did not know how to play kickball but he quickly learned, running as fast as he could from one base to the next and kicking the ball as high and as hard as he could. He had such a great time.

The next morning, Vong woke up extra early so he could ask his Grandma to make him an extra spring roll for lunch. Vong’s Grandma gave him a puzzled look but she made one anyway.

Later, at lunch, Vong looked for Lucia and when he saw her sitting all alone at the end of the lunch table, he went to sit beside her. Lucia smiled at him, remembering that he was the boy who had played kickball with her and her friends yesterday.

“¡Hola!” she greeted cheerfully.

Vong simply smiled back. He did not understand her language. He was pretty sure she would not understand his, as well, and so he did not speak. Instead, he opened his lunchbox and gave the extra spring roll to Lucia.

Lucia was confused, at first, but after a few seconds, she finally understood that Vong wanted her to have the spring roll. She decided to try it and looked at Vong with a bigger smile, her eyes gleaming.

“Mmm, delicioso! Gracias, Vong,” she said.

Again, Vong merely smiled.

From then on, Vong and Lucia spent a lot of time together. At first, they did not speak much, simply keeping each other company, but as they learned new English words together, they started talking and understanding each other.

Vong learned that just like him, Lucia and her family just recently came to live in the United States, which was why she didn’t know English, either. She wasn’t from Vietnam, but from another country called Mexico, and so she spoke Spanish.

Sometimes, after school, Lucia would teach Vong some Spanish words and in turn, Vong would also teach her some Vietnamese words. They would greet each other in the mornings, saying ‘Hola’ or ‘Chào’ then in the afternoons, before they went home, they would say, ‘Hasta luego’ or ‘Tạm biệt.

Apart from learning new words together, Vong and Lucia loved to do artwork. Once, when they were asked to make collages in class, Vong and Lucia poured out all their imagination into their works and ended up having the best works. The collages were so good, that Ms. Carter hang them on the bulletin board for everyone in the school to see.

At home, Vong and his family were doing better. At the end of each day, Vong loved to welcome his parents back home. He would sit by the window and wait for his father to come around the corner. Then, he would run up and give him a hug, even if he was covered in mud and grass from gardening. As a reward, Vong’s father always brought home a bag of treats from work, usually wild fruits such as wild pears, apples or persimmons.

Vong’s Mom usually came home late from the dry cleaners. Vong would still wait for her, and he loved hugging her even more because she smelled like fresh laundry.

Since Vong’s family could not afford a TV, Vong spent most of his free time reading the books Ms. Carter assigned, trying to finish one book before moving on to the next. Whenever he has trouble pronouncing a word or doesn’t understand a word, he would ask his brothers for help and if they didn’t know the word either, they would all go check the thick dictionary together.

As the days passed, Vong learned to love reading. Because he read so much, he realized he needed a bookmark. One Saturday, he searched around the house, looking for one, but he didn’t find any.

“I wonder if I could make one by myself,” Vong thought. “But out of what?”

Vong searched around the house again, keeping an eye out for anything he could make into a bookmark. Finally, he spotted a few extra wire hangers his mother had brought home from the dry cleaners sitting at the bottom of the closet.

That night, Vong asked his mother if he could have them.

“Can I have three of the hangers please?” he pleaded.

“I don’t mind,” Vong’s mother said. “But what will you do with them? Hangers can be dangerous, you know.”

“I’m just going to make bookmarks,” Vong said. “And I promise I’ll be careful.”

“Bookmarks?” Vong’s mother eyed him curiously.

Still, she allowed Vong to have the hangers and Vong set to work. For a while, he just stared at the hangers, wondering where to start. Then, he asked his oldest brother to cut the wire and straighten it out. Afterwards, he started bending the wire carefully, trying to make different shapes.

“What shape should I make?” he wondered.

He thought and thought and after a while, he decided to make a heart-shaped bookmark. He also decided that he would make three bookmarks — one for him, one for Ms. Carter and one for Lucia, since her birthday was coming up. He set himself to work happily, even humming one of the tunes he used to play on his flute. He was glad because not only was he able to make his own bookmark, he was also able to make gifts for others to show them how much he cared.

The next Saturday, Vong got out of bed early. He was excited because today was Lucia’s birthday and he had been invited to Lucia’s birthday party at the park.

Vong helped his Grandma make his favorite spring rolls, as well as new sushi rolls filled with avocado, fresh cucumber and carrot sticks, which he hoped Lucia would like. Then, he helped his Grandma pack all of the rolls neatly into food containers.

Vong carried the containers as he walked to the park with his Grandma and Grandpa, whom he had asked to accompany him to the party since he knew how much they missed spending time outdoors. At the park, he immediately spotted the balloons and colorful party decorations and he heard the lively Mariachi music playing and as he came closer, he saw Lucia wearing a pretty dress.

“Chào, Vong!” Lucia greeted enthusiastically.

“Hola, Lucia!” Vong greeted. “¡Feliz Cumpleaños! Happy Birthday, Lucia!”

“Gracias, Vong.”

“These are my grandparents,” Vong introduced. “My Grandma made your favorite spring rolls and new sushi rolls for your birthday. I hope you like them.”

Lucia looked at Vong’s grandparents. “Thank you very much. ¡Muchas gracias, mucho gusto!”

Vong’s grandparents nodded and smiled.

“And here is your birthday present.” Vong handed her a rolled up grocery bag.

Lucia quickly unwrapped her present and when she saw the heart-shaped bookmark, her face lit up. “It’s beautiful, muy bonita! Did you make it, Vong?”

“Sí,” Vong answered. “I needed a bookmark so I made one for myself and I thought you might need one, too.”

“This is wonderful, Vong!” Lucia pressed the bookmark to her chest, happy that she had received a handmade gift on her birthday. “¡Muchas gracias!”

Afterwards, Lucia, Vong and his grandparents went to join the others and soon, the feast began. Lucia placed the special homemade rolls next to the Mexican dishes. Vong had never eaten Mexican food before but he could tell that all the dishes were tasty just by how good they looked and their delicious smell — the maize chips with guacamole and spicy red salsa, tamales, enchiladas and empanadas.

After the meal, Vong joined the other children in dancing around to the Mariachi music, then, they all took turns in hitting the donkey piñata which, after several tries, burst open with plenty of candies and toys.

Vong’s grandparents were very pleased to see Vong having a great time with his new friends, but after the piñata, they wandered to a more quiet section of the park. Worried, Vong followed after them and as soon as he caught up with them, he saw that they were staring at the park with a sad melancholy look in their eyes. He realized that they miss Vietnam more than anyone because they spent the most years there and had the fondest memories.

“Grandpa, Grandma, are you alright?” Vong asked as he approached them.

Vong’s grandfather sighed. “I miss home,” he said in Vietnamese. “But our life is here now and I believe things will get better.”

“At least, we are all together,” Vong’s grandmother added.

In spite of their answers, Vong still sensed their unhappiness and he frowned. “I wish that all of us can be happy here in America. I like it here.”

Vong’s Grandma looked at him and lifted his chin. “Do not mind your Grandpa and I. Just keep going forward. Keep doing well in school. After all, you are our future. You are our hope, just as the name ‘Vong’ means ‘Hope’ in Vietnamese.” She smiled at him, showing all her perfectly black teeth.

For a moment, Vong was reminded of the night before they fled Vietnam and he realized how far they had come since then, how much their lives had changed. He knew that Vietnam would always be a part of him but he knew that his life was in America now and that his grandparents and parents were counting on him to make the most of all the new opportunities in America, to make all their sacrifices bear fruit.

Vong smiled back at his Grandma and gave her a hug. “I will do my best, Grandma,” he promised.

As long as he had hope in his heart, he knew that in America he could make his dreams come true and the people around him happy. His new life, after all, had just begun.