East Meets West

I was born in 1955, and raised in a very small town in south Mississippi. Lucedale, Mississippi to be precise. A town which was at that time, and still to this day divided down the middle racially. You were either black or you were white. No in betweens, no mixing of races, and for that matter no other races made Lucedale their home.
For certain, if you weren't black or white, why would you move to this little town that was so segregated? Don't get me wrong, it wasn't a bad town, but people kept to themselves divided by the race line, and they were pretty happy with doing so. That all changed in 1975 with the addition of the first Asian family in town.
With the collapse of the South Vietnamese government in 1975, thousands of Vietnamese were granted asylum in the United States. The families were processed either on the west coast in California, or the east coast in Florida. The Vietnamese family that came to live in our little town had processed through a refugee camp at Eglin Air Force Base in Florida. After they were sponsored in our town, I got my first view of what a Vietnamese family looked like. I was 20 years old that year, and these were the first Asians I had ever seen except for those on television or in magazines.
It was by random luck that Tai, the patriarch of the family walked up to me in June of that year and asked me if I knew where he could find a job. I was working at the local hospital to make money for college that summer. I thought the least I could do was direct him to the employment office. He was hired that day, and I found myself driving him home each day after work. That's when I saw her for the first time. The woman I would marry almost two years later. Her name was Nan Thi Nguyen.
Some would argue that there is no such thing as love at first sight. Well, let the argument end. Yes, yes it exists. Seeing Nan wasn't about needing to find someone, it was about an instant connection despite language differences and cultural barriers. It was more than attraction, it was a feeling of destiny. When the news broke in the town that we were in love there were a few people who I considered my friends that tried to dissuade me from marrying outside my race. One friend in particular took me aside and said to me "Kim, you are white, and she's Asian. If you marry her do you know what that will make your children?" "Yeah", I said. "It will make them beautiful rainbows."
So, 34 years later we still have this mutual admiration thing going. We take time to remember what attracted us to each other in the first place, and we continually remind ourselves of the blessings that we have been given along the way. I could not ask for more. I'll someday leave this earth, all well knowing that I'm also leaving behind a legacy of love, and wonderful memories and tales for our future generations. This is what will be told when they all recall their heritage and how they came to be. They will tell their children, "This is how east met west." Let the Bollywood dancing begin.

And I Thought I Was Strong

I always thought I was strong. I grew up with parents who both worked. That left me alone most days after school to do for myself. I was blessed to be raised in the Southern woods of Mississippi where I could practice my independence at a young age. I can still recall the first fish I caught, and hunting in the deep pine forests alone at 10 years of age. People say I remind them so much of my maternal grandfather. I never met him, but the stories people tell of him are stories of a kind and humble man. Stories of him leaving food on doorsteps of the less fortunate in our community never staying long enough to be discovered or thanked. Stories of a good and strong man. But this story isn't about me or my grandfather. It's about my wife, Nan.
As a young girl in 1975 she left everything she knew and stepped aboard a shrimp boat sitting at the dock of the Saigon River in South Vietnam, and with faith and courage alone never looked back. How she survived that long and dangerous voyage into the open sea I cannot imagine. If you are interested in more of her story just look for Nan's Papaya in this blog. I wrote this to honor Nan and her Mother. Both women of incredible courage.
Recently Nan has undergone multiple surgeries, 6 months of chemotherapy, been hospitalized for pneumonia, and endured the pain of breast cancer. It's been two long years of living on faith. When I ask myself where she finds the strength to go through it all, I remember who she is and her strong constitution she inherited from her Mother. What a blessing it is to be her husband. My God, I thought I was the strong one.