Moon and Stars
January 2004
Lawrence Tan
Do I believe in love? Definitely. Love could be found in just passing moments. Love could be long lasting. Love is such a beautiful thing, like a ‘perle de rosee’, like the morning dew that condenses on the leaves of the trees. Love could be deep and intense like an undercurrent. Love liberates a person from just focusing on oneself and shifts one’s mind and focus to others. Love renders a person willing to give and sacrifice. Love is a priceless jewel. Love is like the sap of a tree; the moment we lose the feeling of love or become incapable of love, we effectively become nothing more than a dying tree.
The summer of 1970 in Saigon was as hot and humid as ever. It would have been like any other summer and blurred together in my memory. But it turned out that was not the case. My uncle and I were heading back to Vinh Binh at Luu Thai’s invitations to his wedding.
Luu Thai family was from the Trieu Chau clan. His Mom passed away when he was very young. His father remarried to a gentle and nice woman. He called her Ah Kiem(aunt) and his father Ah Cu(uncle). I had also seen this tradition in some Vietnamese families, especially those that were from the North. Actually, similar traditions do exist in the Chinese and Vietnamese families where some members of a family would choose to address to other members in the family using the titles that their own kids would use. For example, a married woman living in her husband’s family would call his younger brother, her brother-in-law ‘uncle’.
Luu Thai had a step-sister about 10 years younger than he was, Ah Muay. She was born with a limp, a cute and shy little girl. Luu Thai loved her very much. His step-mom loved and took care of him since she took over his mother’s place. His father needed an assistant, so he brought in a trusted member of the family, his own nephew. At times, this cousin of Luu Thai would do the travel to other towns to collect the money from the customers. One summer, I heard that he took the money collected from a whole trip, the sum of fifty thousands piasters, and disappeared altogether. He decided to go and have some fun as he thought he worked hard and deserved it. A month later, he turned up in some other relative’s house and sent in his apologies to Luu Thai’s father. He forgave his nephew’s foolishness; the young man eventually came back and continued to work for his uncle.
Luu Thaí’s house is about a five minute walk from Cinema Phu Vinh. From there I would turn right, passed by the local dive Hong La.c and Manh’s house, and crossed the street to my left. That row of houses faced directly the inter-cities bus terminal, separated by a street. The terminal was basically an open square of approximately two hundred yards on each side, like a parking lot, surrounded by three busy streets lined with tall tamarind trees and ended with a row of stores facing directly opposite to Luu Thaí’s house. When the buses arrived, they always parked in the curb heads in facing those stores.
On Luu Thai’s block, the first house there at the corner was Minh Loi, a wholesale store of different kinds of cookies, biscuits and confections. The rumor had it at the time was that the store made lots of money by selling biscuits to the guerilla forces, but obviously nobody had any proof. Luu Tha’i lived two doors down. Two girls, his schoolmates were living in the houses next to each side of his house. Our group of friends, boys and girls alike, were from both Vietnamese and Chinese ethnics. The Chinese kids themselves spoke different dialects at home, therefore all of us always communicated in the common language that we all knew…Vietnamese since nobody would understand anybody else if we were to speak our own dialects. In fact there were a lot of Chinese kids there who spoke Vietnamese much better than their own dialects. The accent down there was predominantly heavily southern, accentuated by some distinctly regional twists. As a matter of fact, to these days we still can find a lot of Chinese migrated to the States who speak only Vietnamese within their families. I found this particularly true for the younger generation kids from the countryside or smaller towns.
Most of the grandparents of my friends did not speak any Vietnamese. Their parents varied from some who could speak good Vietnamese to those that spoke some pidgin Vietnamese laden with the Chinese accent. However, I was the only one there who spoke Vietnamese with a Northern accent, which were somewhat unusual down there, in the Western Region. Some of the Chinese kids down there went to the only local Chinese school which adhered to a Vietnamese curriculum. The school also taught them Chinese (literature) and Mandarin (the national language). Even though I did not speak any Mandarin at all, but I could tell that they might speak Mandarin fluently but with a very heavy Vietnamese accent!
Luu Thai’s family was in the grains business. His house was stacked with all kinds in big burlap bags. Rice, and all kinds of dried beans, black bean, red been, green bean, soy bean and etc…His house was actually extended to a connected warehouse in the back, always filled with bags of grains. Luu Thai’s bride to be was from Cho Moi (close to Cholon/Saigon), her family was also Trieu Chau. At first, I had no idea where and how he met her. It turned out that it was via a matchmaker. Poor guy! He just turned twenty years old and his father already decided that he needed to settle down and learn to help him to run his business. Who could he trust more than his own son? At the time, we had no idea; now looking back, that was awfully early to start a family and shoulder serious responsibilities. But the folks in the countryside seemed to always marry young. Life was simple with really not much else to do.
From the very beginning of the trip, I was no doubt very excited. Even though that time was quite different, but nevertheless I would be able to see the old friends. I did not know what to expect since we were at the age where we changed, physically and emotionally, almost every year. We had the instructions to meet Luu Thai’s relatives in TanSonNhut and board the plane with many people that I did not think I knew before. Luu Thaí’s family chartered the plane. Most of the guests on the plane spoke Trieu Chau, so my uncle and I stayed quiet throughout the flight. The plane landed safely in the local runway of a very spartan ‘airport’, about ten kilometers from town. Already, there was a fleet of Pedi cabs (xe loi) waiting for us. We traveled light, so my uncle and I could snuggly fit in just one Pedi cab with our bags at our feet. The Pedi cabs down there were of a different design than the ones up in Saigon. The customer carriage was on two wheels anchored to the back of a bicycle or a motorcycle. In Saigon, the Pedi cabs were of an integrated design and the customer carriages were in front of the vehicles. Our hosts also arranged our lodging and the Pedi cabs were told where we would be staying.
As we meandered our way into town, I felt this enormous elation, feeling like coming home, even though it was home no more. We passed by the Square Pond (Ao Vuong), where I had some memories there. My two friends including Luu Thaí and I carried three girls on the back of the bicycles all the way to the edge of town and picnicked at Ao Vuong. Even though we were all good friends, I always felt like an outsider with the girls since I did not go to school with them down there. Before we departed, it seemed like there was a moment of awkwardness as we tried to pair up on the bicycles. However, something was telling me that there was a quiet conspiracy among the girls of whom they were going to saddle with. They were all nice girls; I did not have any preference. During the whole trip there, the girls sitting with both of their legs on one side of the bikes, would try to hold on to the edge of the boys’ saddles as much as possible and avoid putting their arms around the boys’ waists. That would be too obvious; it would be an open admission and declaration. We were all good friends for as long as I remembered, but that particular year, I felt that something changed and sometimes I did not know how to comport myself in front of the girls. The girls had always seemed to be transparent to me; but for some reasons, that year things started to change.
At the edge of the pond, there was a tall tree with a stump up high grew out of its main trunk that looked like the head of the Buddha Sakya Muni. The local people believed it was a religious phenomenon, and we could see what was left of the various
offerings of fruits and incense sticks around that particular tree.
The birds and the small animals must have a feast there. We found a clean spot and spread a sheet to sit down. I enjoyed the open space, the quietness, the light breeze that caused the slight and occasional rustles of the leaves, the reflecting pond and of course the company. We all enjoyed the summer rolls, the cured pork (nem) and the fruits that the girls brought with them. The good snack was washed down with the soda drinks. Everyone started out to be shy but the conversation did warm up as time went by. I felt that the subjects of the conversations were not really that important, I paid more attention to who was actually after whom. A stealing glance or a small gesture of care would be enough to betray their hearts. We spent about an hour there then we decided to head back before the sun went down. A few days later, we never saw those girls again for a while. We learnt that somehow their parents knew about our little excursion and got furious because that they went out with boys and dared to go to the edge of the town which was deemed very unsafe. We boys did not know that, as we did not know a lot of things at that age. So they were all grounded for a while.
On our trip into town from the airport, I looked at all the houses in the edge of the town as they passed me by. I stared at each boy and girl at around my age just to see if I could recognize anyone, just to see if anyone would recognize me. As we were going through the center of the town, I recognized the familiar stores; I felt I had never left this town. I took a deep breath and quietly closed my eyes for a moment. I was happy beyond words. Here was the store Du Long, they sent their son to Taberd Saigon and the kid turned into a jerk. I did not think he actually learnt any French, all he learnt was swearing and cursing. That boy used to be so shy, until he picked up all the bad sides of things in just one lousy school year in Saigon. Over there was the jewelry store of a friend of mine who was riding around town with his own Vespa. Oh! Yes, there, that’s the bookstore of another friend; she was such a pretty girl, a mixture of Vietnamese and Khmer. Ah! There it was! Our favorite Chinese restaurant, Tuy Huong, where I used to go and get the carryout of the best roast pork in town. And my favorite billiard place was still there! The two kids who lived and grew up in that billiard place (their family business) were very good at it. They used to give me handicaps, but I would still loose to them most of the time. Yep, they would grow up to be good hustlers in billiard halls! Even the occasional gusts of wind that kicked off bouts of dust into visibly noticeable swirls across the streets seemed to tell me that I was home indeed. Ah! The temple with its snack merchants…sometimes we went there in the evening. We were taken to a local hotel in town. It was a twenty minutes walk from the Hotel to Luu Thai’s house. However, because of the fare was so cheap, most of the time we use the Pedi cabs.
After we settled in the hotel, I took a shower and changed. I was ready to go out. I was so energized in spite of the flight. By the time my uncle was ready, the sun started setting. We left the hotel together on a Pedi cab and headed out to Luu Thai’s house. The town was so small that it actually did not have any building at all. Most of the houses were two stories high; occasionally a well-to-do family added an extra floor. The skyline of the town, the silhouettes of the roofs of the row houses started to make a good impression against the deep blue color of the sky. On top of that deep blue, only a slight trace of the orange sky left in the horizon. That was indeed my favorite time of the day, it made me feel like all activities of the town started to slow down, all the business started to wrap up for the day and the people prepared to enjoy another slow evening of a small town. It was the time for people to come home with the families, to wander comfortably in their pajamas to the local dives with friends. Suddenly, the street lamps lighted up and the whole street scenes came alive under their halos. As we approached the bus terminal, the quietness was gradually replaced by the familiar voices of Ba Van, Ut Bach Lan, Bach Tuyet or Hung Cuong in their renditions of the popular Cai Luong(opera) verses. They were broadcast from the government PAs mounted on some of the streetlight poles around the terminal. The sight, the sound, the color and the smell, yes indeed I felt warmth in my heart but yet laden with an unmistakable trace of worry and sadness. I wished I did not have to listen to the distant rumbles of the canons. I was wondering how much more time I had…
Luu Thai’s house was bustling with people of all ages. Some were local relatives; others were from Saigon/Cholon or Vinh Long. The relatives of the bride to be had never been outside of Saigon and in such a small town. The elders were enjoying their tea, obviously planning for the finishing touches for the next day’s event. Others were sitting in the rattan chairs in front of the house on the sidewalk enjoying their drinks and following their own thoughts through the cigarettes’ smoke. Luu Thai was busy making small talks with his relatives to b. He, tried to entertain the boys from the big town. My uncle was busy in many conversations catching up the time with his old friends. Only few of my friends were there. They should all show up the next day for the wedding. The girls just did not come and hang around in the evening, just a little bit too late to leave their houses. At that age, two years were quite a span of time. Some of the kids I knew seemed to be more mature, some had their appearances changed noticeably and yet some seemed never change. We were so glad to see one another as we thought that I would never be coming back to this town again.
I was trying to be helpful and asking Luu Thai for small tasks. However, my mind was occupied by only one thing; I wanted to pay a visit to cinema Phu Vinh. Finally, I excused myself. I slowly started to stroll towards the end of the block; Phu Vinh was just around the corner and down a block. I got mixed emotions. I was about to have a glimpse of our past, feeling like I was about to go and meet an old girl friend to whom I wanted so much to make
up, for whom I still had a lot of feelings but yet, I knew the feelings was not mutual. Why would going back in time never be an option? I did not know when would be the next time I would be back in this town again.
As I walked past Hong Lac, there it was! I was stunned. I found an old chair of an abandoned food stall across the street and sat myself down. The front of the cinema stayed collapsed, the rubbles were still there like a fresh wound from yesterday, after two whole years! The cinema including the row houses where we lived and Pho Map were condemned like a haunted house. The street lamps around the area were still there, but seemed to be for a new purpose, to spotlight the memorial of a lost time. I gazed intensively at the dead quiet area in front of the movie house, and with the rupture of the fourth dimension, I saw a superimposed picture of a bustling place of festivities, colored lights and sounds. Suddenly, I noticed that tears had blurred my vision. I just could not help it. Actually, I did not know whether those are the tears of pain or happiness reminiscing the past. But the feeling was short lived, it was just an illusion. Why couldn’t they even clean up and rebuild the place? How would my grandparents feel if they saw it like this? I quickly wiped off my tears, cleared my stuffy nose and walked back, not to Luu Thai’s house, but towards the marketplace, trying to stay in the shadow and to give myself time to recover before I head back there so that nobody would know that I cried. I had seen Phu Vinh once more, maybe for the last time. Goodbye Phu Vinh.
We woke up early the next day, looking forward for a busy and exciting day. I would meet the rest of my friends; I could not wait to see the girls. Despite that hot summer day, I sported a two piece suit, dark blue and a contemporary cut that fit me so well, my tailor told me so. I put on a patterned red neck tie that I bought for $10 US dollars from a relative who worked for James Lee, a clothing store serving the US personnel in Long Bi`nh, over an immaculate and new white shirt coupled with fashionable cuff links. I knew I looked good.
The bride and some of her relatives stayed in the same Hotel we were staying. Luu Thai would come with his entourage to pick her up. Actually, it was not that easy. He would have to bargain his way past a group of brothers, sisters and cousins of the bride then into her room. Luu Thai had to wear a hat. Our mission was to protect that hat and not letting the rascals of the bride to snatch it off. It was fun and part of the traditions. He would have to pay a ransom for the hat. Without it, he could not proceed towards the bride. So all of us surrounded him and one of us played his spokesman to bargain with that horde of morons. He would have to promise to treat everybody to a movie, a dim sum brunch or a fun trip to somewhere or he would simply have to write a check. I knew that custom well; I had to write a check of two hundred dollars (in 1976) to my wife’s younger sisters. But later on, she took it from them and tore it up. We saved two hundred bucks!
I joined Luu Thai’s group as soon as he, his relatives and friends approached the Hotel. The girls looked really different this time. They all seemed to be more attractive with some light make-up on, in addition to the fact that the physics of some of them had clearly developed. I had never seen them like that before. I was excited and could not wait to say hello to them. I had the feeling that some of them were staring at me, maybe due to the fact that I was away for two consecutive years and I did look different too. Or maybe they just wanted to take a glimpse of a university student from Saigon. The game of the groom and bride was soon over and everybody was happy. I did not remember what the rascals got from Luu Thai. We then all headed back to the groom’s house for more of the traditional ceremonies. While we were following the crowd of guests and watched the groom and bride performing the ceremonies, I discovered that the girls were not as shy as they appeared to be
in the beginning. Once we broke the ice, we did not have to stand on any more ceremonies. We just cracked jokes like the yesteryears. After all the main events of the morning, the guests scattered and formed into smaller groups of conversations or find a place to rest around the house. Some would go back to where they stayed and came back later for the early banquet.
A few friends and I went and changed into more comfortable clothes. I put on my jeans, sneakers and a sport shirt to help to set up the tables for the banquet. We had about four round tables on the first floor and three in the second floors. Each table sat about ten people. It was a busy little place. The food was actually prepared in the Temple across the street because the house was not equipped nor having the room to cook for that many people. I helped carrying the food trays from the Temple to the house. Each tray was covered with a large piece of paper to protect the food from the dust as we had to cross the streets. I could carry only so much food in a tray, so I was constantly shuttling from the house and the Temple to replenish the tables.
After so many of such a trip, I started to feel a little bit tired. I started to feel warm and a little bit of sweat started to form on my face and forehead. The girls were upstairs and as I walked past them there, I noticed some of them stared at me every time. I kind of felt uncomfortable. This one trip would be my last before a break, I saw two girls waiting on top of the staircase as I approached the flight of stairs from below. As I started to walk up, one of them walked down and met me in the middle of the flight and she started to use her handkerchief and gently wiped my face. I was stunned. I did not know how the react, still carrying the tray of food. Finally, I just thanked her. “My name is Hoa, Why don’t you sit down and take a break?”. Wow! Suddenly I did not feel tired anymore. I took care of the tray of food then I went and sat at their table and then the two girls piled up food on my plate. They all talked to me, but Hoa
was more aggressive. I do not remember the name of the other girl. Over the years, I had seen all of them. It was just that I did not really have anything to talk about. Now suddenly they were so forward, I did not know what to do. I just could not wipe off the smile on my face for the rest of that day.
The festivities last until the next day. Before we returned to Saigon, I managed to get the address of the other girl. She told me to write to her. The next couple of weeks back in Saigon, I still did not recover. My head was spinning with the encounter. I kicked myself being so shy and not asking Hoa’s address. So I thought about something that turned to be real stupid. I wrote to the other girl. In that letter, I asked her for Hoa’s address. I did receive a response after about a week. A short note saying that she did not have Hoa’s address, and if I am so interested in Hoa then I had to find her address myself! Oops! Eventually, I wrote to Luu Thai and asked him for it. He asked Hoa and gladly sent it to me. I started to write my first letter. We wrote to each other for a whole year. I just could not figure out why I had that many things to say then. It was such a joy every time I came home and my brother told me that I had a letter from Vinh Binh. The time went by quickly in Saigon. And then she said she wanted to come up and see me. That was very forward of hers. I was supposed to be the one who should make that move. What did she have to tell her family to travel to Saigon by herself?
I was working with my uncle and going to school at the same time. In fact I was in the process of applying for a job in USAID. My friend Tu’ told me that it was good money. He was a programmer working with computers. I did not really know what all that meant; all I cared about was how much he made. Apparently, the job offered a lot more than working part time for Amtraco.
The expectations and the excitements built up in me. I was thinking where to take her, all the good dives that I knew in town
A trip to the Botanic Garden and the Zoo would be great. We would have a lot more to talk about, this time face to face. She came up for about a week. We really did have a chance to know each other more.
Unfortunately, it was only to my disappointment. She stayed with one of her aunts in Phu Nhuan. Her family was really conservative. I had to meet her in a corner of some street close by. That kind of bothered me. Just being around her for a week, I discovered that we really did have a culture gap. Coming from the countryside and a rather conservative family, she seemed to have a little problem with my way of life, my long hair and my clothing.
We had exchanged thoughts for an entire year, so we felt we could be straightforward to each other. I felt like all those comments were not from her, she probably just wanted me to be presentable to her side of the family. Being a young man at the time, that idea alone upset me. How many more restrictions do they have? What else was wrong with me when I get closer to them? I tried to explain to her my feelings, but I did not think she knew how to handle it. It was so disappointing that after an entire year of nurturing my feelings towards a person and it turned out to be all wrong. I was really upset.
A lesson learnt. I did not want to drag on any longer; it just seemed there was not any point. I was about to go to an interview with the new job which looked financially promising to me as jobs were rare. I told her about it, she did not like the fact I would be working for the Americans and tried to distract and stop me from going. I insisted and dropped her off at her aunt’s house, and went on for my interview. That was it; I did not want to waste any more of her and my time. Two days before she went back to Vinh Binh, I told her that it would best that we forget about each other. She asked me why and cried incessantly. I did not really have a lot to say that night. I wanted to drop her off
after that conversation but it seemed like she wanted to hang on and not letting it go. She did not understand and did not hear what I had to say. She said if I had another girl, she would want to meet her before she left town. Even if I had another girlfriend at the time, I would be really foolish of me to let Hoa meet her. I ended up lying to her saying to give ourselves more time to think about it and I’d see her the next time she came up this way. I had already made up my mind and did not respond to her letters.
As time went on, I have met other people, all from Saigon of course. But I did not forget about Hoa. Even though the time we spent together was so brief, but we spent a lot of time meeting in our minds. That coup de foudre was so strong it still left a scar in me. I broke her heart. I wondered if she had survived the war, how many kids and grand kids she would have today. She may have forgiven me or she probably still hates me. A soothing and lingering feeling came over me every time I think about those days…Like a caressing evening breeze, just like something so beautiful as a precious gem, as the celestial elements that complement one another in the sky, the moon and the stars.
