i was one of those incredible days when i could fill a book. really was.
i meet with a one of the maids where i live. her name is ðinh thị hà. ms. hà for short. i wrote a bit about her the other day. she recently thought it would be a good idea if i met some of her friends. oh, already i’m meeting vietnamese people my own age. how exciting.
2:00 was the time and the sommerset hotel was to be our meeting place. the girl i was meeting is 20 years old. i walked around my little apartment very nervous. i’m always nervous when i meet new people. i arrived a bit late and she was waiting there with ms. hà. she was small and thin and had a very compact face. her hair was held together by some large apparatus. her name was ms. mai phýõng.
oh, to meet someone and feel like a rock star! ms. phýõng couldn’t stop laughing and smiling. she wouldn’t walk near me leaving a safe five foot gap between us. i tried to introduce myself in vietnamese and english but got no where. she kept covering her mouth. we walked down the street to meet her friends. oh, to meet people and feel like a rock star twice in one day! it was amazing. i was 22 (older, very important in this culture) and american (oh, the allure!) and all five of the girls huddled off in a corner and chatted and laughed and refused to get near me. the men, or boys, or young men all came up to me and introduced themselves. one spoke very good english. his nickname was “pig”.
we quickly hopped on their motorbikes and headed off. i had no idea what we were doing but it felt good. we arrived at a karaoke bar. oh, my. i have sang karaoke a handful of times. my karaoke song is, “okie from muskogee” by merle haggard.
it was very neon but well lit. it felt like a dirty bar and a set from a movie. we all huddled in, girls giggling the entire time, and trotted up three or four flights of steps. i felt like i was intruding and yet welcome at the same time. a very strange combination of feelings. the world seems to be staring at me, not uncommon here, and there was something in the air that made me grin. going out to karaoke on a muggy tuesday night with a group of “friends”. oh, i felt so wonderful but nervous. so happy but unsure. i was being thoroughly critiqued by everyone following me but loved every minute of it. grin.
we entered out special room. it had a u-shaped couch in it and a large television screen. and oh, the walls. they looked like they were painted by someone who had studied both picasso and andy warhol but didn’t study too hard. terrible. just terrible.
they wanted me to sing right away but i wasn’t really sure. how did this all work? there was a slimy book that was full of different songs. the english section was full of songs i had never heard of. okie from muskogee wasn’t anywhere to be found. they started singing. mr. derstine, my old choir teacher, would have been hysterical. they sang loud and through their noses.
the microphone was tossed in my direction. i was going to sing a duet with one of the guys. he was thin and had a face that looked like an apple. he held the microphone at a strange angle and sat on the edge of the couch. someone asked me, “do you know ‘my heart will go on’?” sadly i did. i left my inhibitions at the door (or maybe back at the los angeles airport) and proceeded. the first verse was in vietnamese. i butchered the pronunciation and had no idea what was being said. everyone in the room was silent. when there was a pause in the music i said, “thanks y’all for commin’ out tonight” as a joke. no one laughed. of course they didn’t laugh. we finally got to the english. i let it rip and me and my thin friend were floating on air. apple face and all. we almost stood up and started dancing. what a beautiful moment. the room burst out into applause and we both shook it off, “oh, it was nothing. i just love that ‘my heart will go on’ song.” sarcasm doesn’t work here.
they asked me to sing again. that was a mistake.
i found a song i knew. “come on baby light my fire” by the doors. i just love the organ part. it started and didn’t sound anything like it. it sounded like music from a chinese buffet with the words to “light my fire”. i sang with fervor. when i got to the high part i screamed, “fiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrreeeeee!!!!!!!” oh, the room rumbled with applause. a rock star three times in one day! unheard of!
we left because i had to trade english lessons for vietnamese lessons at 4:00. when i got home, after saying goodbye to my new friends, i met ms. hà on the roof. she said to me, i want to tell you about ms. phýõng (the girl i met earlier). “ok” i said.
she proceeded to tell me that ms. phýõng’s mother had committed suicide about, “100 days ago.” i was shocked. “what?!?” it turns out that both ms. hà and ms. phýõng were in the house when it happened. it turns out that she stabbed herself, “in the heart.” ms. phýõng, her only daughter, witnessed it. she ran to her mother and tried to pull the knife out, “of her heart” but couldn’t. ms. hà was downstairs and ran up to see what the commotion was. she found the middle aged lady on the kitchen floor and her daughter, ms. phýõng, holding her head and sobbing. they called the ambulance but it didn’t arrive for an hour. she died in the hospital. before she died, she asked ms. hà if she would take care of her family for her. “would she look after ms. phýõng and her younger brother? would she take care of the house?” ms. hà agreed. ms. hà told me that ms. phýõng’s mother and her are, “chị em kết nghĩa.” In my dictionaries, one says that they are, “blood sisters” and the other says that they are, “spiritually married.” i sat there and wanted to cry.
ms. hà asked me to go to church with her next sunday. i was honored. i’m sure it isn’t a protestant church and it’s probably not catholic either but she says it’s the oldest church in saigon. she wants me to meet ms. phýõng’s mother. she said she’ll be there.
i am overwhelmed. read the next post to find out how much ms. hà works. on top of all of that she’s responsible for ms. phýõng, her younger brother and the house. it makes me burn up with rage inside. compassion but rage.
oh, and why did commit suicide? because her husband lost 300,000,000 ðồng betting on football games. and how’s he doing? well, ms. hà cleans his house and takes care of his kids for him. she and ms. phýõng’s mother are, after all, “chị em kết nghĩa.”
i have a lot to think about before tomorrows vietnamese lesson with ms. hà. i have to swallow a big ball of rage welling up inside of me.
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