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Sisters should be shot for going through their mother’s old photos and finding pictures of their younger brother. This was taken before my now middle-age son was born – in 1967. At that time, our little encampment was south of Saigon in a village named Binh Chanh. Today Binh Chanh is part of Ho Chi Minh City.
Change happens.
Road trips – they are tough on an old body, but also a lot of fun. We spent the last 1 ½ weeks on the road and we did a lot in that short time period.
• We picked up Tuan (say two unh) in Houston. Affectionately known as “T-Bone” by the Americans in Huê, Tuan has come to America to study for his Ph.D. in Environmental Science at the University of Texas – San Antonio. That’s about a four hour drive for us, so we won’t be seeing him as frequently as Trang. Tuan was a frequent visitor to our apartment in Việt Nam. He calls the Mystery Guest Blogger “Mom”, though he has a wonderful mother and father of his own. The routine in Huê used to be like this: Knock on door, walked in and said “Hi Mom – what do you have to eat?”
• To northern Kentucky to see our son and his family. They recently moved there from Orlando – career move and all that. As usual, sitting outside with cigars as son and I solved the problems of the world.
• To Ohio for a family reunion on the Mystery Guest Blogger’s side. Not only did I enjoy it, and not only did Trang and Tuan experience a little bit of Americana, but I also am doing a photography project about it.
• Played tourist in the Amish country of Ohio. I was deeply impressed by the Amish. I took very few photos. Why? Because the Amish don’t like to have their pictures taken. (I wouldn’t like having tourists poking cameras at me all the time either!)
• Back to Houston for some excellent Vietnamese food courtesy of Tuan’s aunt, then a short drive to San Antonio with all his “stuff.” He found a room near campus and signed the lease. This coming weekend, I will drive with him back to San Antonio to help him move in and get started on the myriad things that need to be done prior to the beginning of classes.
Welcome to America, Tuan. Yes, he’s a photographer too. He’s just started a blog titled “Tuan in the US” where he shows off his considerable skills.
And, Trang is getting to see more of America – in this case, a wheat field in Amish country. It’s hard to believe she’s been in America for a year.
Do I live the good life or what?
(Note: long time readers know of my good friend Mr. Cu. We’re a lot alike – same age, grandfathers, photographers, kind of introverted – but he is in Huê, Việt Nam, and I am in America. He recently sent me an email in Vietnamese – he’s never done that before – but he wanted to write in his native tongue so he could express his deepest feelings. Trang translated it for me and did a wonderful job. It was an introspective and contemplative email.)
All photos except the one above and the one of the old lady holding her own picture are Mr. Cu’s. Be sure to click on each photo to see a larger version
Phan Cu was born on a sampan – a small boat on the Perfume River in Huê. His father died at age 42, probably from overwork as a xích lô driver, the three-wheeled pedaled conveyance used to transport people and freight. The river people were then and are now among the poorest of the poor in Huê. They live, work and die on the water. Here and there along the river are clusters of moored boats – floating villages. The largest was alongside Bạch Đằng Street on a canal that fed into the nearby river. It’s where Cu’s parents’ boat was located. Cu lived on a boat like these with his brother and sister until he was in his teens.
I wish I’d known Cu as a young man. Besides his obvious intelligence, I would like to know what spurred him to wanting something more than living on a sampan. The boat kids seldom got a good education so they reverted back to working on the river as their parents did, continuing the cycle of poverty. Cu had something inside himself that drove him to achieve higher goals. He attended Quốc Học High School, one of the three most prestigious high schools in all of Việt Nam.. He learned English and used that skill to land a job working with the Americans at the big Phu Bai airbase near Huê.
After the policy of đổi mới opened up Communist Việt Nam in the early 90s, Cu became part of the new emerging middle class – the owner of a prosperous café catering to western tourists and selling a lot of his photographs. But, he never forgot his modest roots. As I got to know him better back in 2005-06, I would hear about him taking wedding photos for poor couples. He once took me to a pagoda that cared for elderly people with no family – and Cu gave a framed portrait to each of the old people to keep as their own. When the two of us would go out on photo jaunts, he would always surreptitiously slip a few bills into the hand of a particularly poor or elderly person. Cu believed in giving back.
It is not unusual for Cu to escort western photographers around Huê to get the kind of shots they might not get by themselves. I went with him on one such trip when he rented a boat and cruised the river and the sampan villages, all the while telling the two Americans about his humble beginnings. He is proud of his river heritage, and he loves the Hương Giang – the Perfume River – the river that is almost sacred to Cu and many others who grew up in the cultural capital of Việt Nam.
This was in the email he sent:
Then he told me about the news of the day
The place of his childhood is gone.
Ever the observer of life, Cu documented what he saw. People whose lives are forever changed as the government moves them off the river and into new homes on land. People’s meager belongings stacked in the dirt. People’s boats taken apart. People’s lives changed forever.
Cu went on:
And Cu took photos of his people undergoing still another wrenching event. More than merely moving from one house to another, it was a dramatic change in lifestyle for them.
I once exchanged strong words with a European tourist. She decried the disappearance of the old Việt Nam – saying that Việt Nam was becoming just another boring country of concrete, glass, and pavement. She wanted the peasants to always be there, wearing conical hats. She took lots of pictures of the boats on the river. I asked her if she wanted the people and country to remain poor just so tourists would have exotic photos to take home. Startled, she knew what I meant. Change must happen – it is the only constant in life.
Yet, there is a deep sadness in Mr. Cu as he watches his beloved country change. It’s more than just getting old and wanting things to be like they used to be – Việt Nam has been through too much to cause any Vietnamese to pine for “the good old days.”
Cu ended with this:
And I will end with one of my favorite photos of Cu’s. It expresses his love of the river and of Huê. It is titled “Fishing the Whole Sun.” A large print hangs in my home in America, reminding me of my second home town of Huê - - and of my good friend Cu.
Next week the Mystery Guest Blogger and I will celebrate our 38th anniversary. Probably a better remembrance is to say she has endured me for 38 years.
That’s a long time to put up with a prat.
But, we will be visiting her mother next week, so we decided an early romantic dinner for two was called for – and asked the waitress to snap a pix.
Italian place – excellent food.
The next two weeks will be packed with events. Tuan (called T-Bone by most of his American friends) arrives in America on Monday. Tuan was a fixture in our Huê apartment. He would come in and say “Hey Mom – you got anything to eat?” T-Bone will be starting his doctoral work in environmental science at the University of Texas San Antonio. We won’t be able to see him as often as we see Trang, but we’ve been able to build a circle of friends who can watch over him.
We will pick him up in Houston where he is staying with an aunt for a day, and then we’ll take Trang and Tuan to Ohio for a good old-fashioned midwestern America family reunion. The MGB’s family get-together will offer the two of them to see even more Americana. We’ll also have a chance to see our son and his family, recently ensconced in their new home outside Cincinnati. Then its back to Texas and to San Antonio to set up Tuan in his apartment before we head back home a few days later.
We took advantage of a little quiet time for a quiet dinner – just the two of us.
T’was nice.
This is not unusual in deep south Texas.
It was 107 on the 4th of July.
(Be sure to click on the image so you can see a bigger version and read it easier.)
EDIT:
I posted that way too early. Here is the temperature a little later. It was 100 at noon. Also, the temperature gauge in my car.
STILL ANOTHER EDIT: Okay - I took the screen capture of the 107 temp too early. It got to 108 today - the hottest day in ten years and the hottest day ever in the month of July. Don't get me wrong - 100 plus days are not uncommon during the summers in deep south Texas.
There have been a lot of celebrity deaths lately: Farah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, Karl Mauldin – I’ll even include Billy May. Many accolades are being written and spoken for them. The fact that we know who they are means they impacted our lives – at least a little. I do not begrudge them either their fame or the attention given to their passing.
Then I look at my mother. She will be 93 next week.
Think of that – ninety three.
Just as celebrities die, so too will my mother die. Like most people, she is not a celebrity. Millions will not mourn her passing. There will be a small story in the obituaries and a small gathering when she rejoins the earth.
And that too is fine.
Mom made close friends in many places: up-state New York, Massachusetts, Hialeah, and Port St. Lucie. She didn’t live here in Texas long enough to make friends – she only lived in her little house for six months before she fell, broke her hip, and was hospitalized. Her dementia has prevented her from making any new relationships.
All those years – all those people Mom knew and worked with and cared for and prayed for and worried about and laughed with and shared meals with. All those people she loved and loved her. All those people she shared life with.
Unlike the celebrities, she will die alone.
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