To many people, Vietnam was more the name of a war than that of a nation. I knew people used to think so. When I finally went abroad for the first time, I realized that many still thought so.
It wasn’t ignorance. The status of the Vietnam war was merely insignificant these days. Peace was important to Vietnamese, for it was a dominant part of our history and what we learnt in school. But if you look around, wars are still everywhere. For an average person, it’s hard to keep track on which wars have ended long ago, which recently ended, and which ones are still going on.
Still, it was a bit annoying to face with certain questions. Like, “How was the war?” Annoying, but not too bad, given that I could laugh myself off internally with questions like “Am I that old?” all the while knowing they had no idea when the war ended. What I didn’t like, was the idea that people defined the country by the war and not much else.
That was until a few years ago, when I met with a Ukrainian. Why? For we were chatting and after going through a few topics (schools, girls, family, etc.), I asked him, “How was it in Ukraine?”
It wasn’t just small talks. I was interested in it. It was the first time I met someone from a country with an ongoing conflict, someone who ran away from it nonetheless. Still, I did the same thing others did to me before. I tried to define a person by what happened in the country they were from.
One day, I sat next to an elderly couple on a plane. The husband was struggling with the touch screen. Some interface elements that seemed natural to us youngsters weren’t so for him. Like the difference between swiping and tapping. He didn’t want to use the earphone by the airlines, for it wasn’t comfortable, so I lent him mine. And we started chatting.
The lady was from Thailand, and she met her husband while he stationed in Danang. Yes, he was a Nam vet. He served in Japan before VN. Then Philippines. “In and out of these countries,” he told me.
He was in Danang for 7 years. She was there too, though she didn’t mention why. It was a typical story. US soldier got married to a local girl. They went back together to the US and raised a family. Very typical indeed, for soon I learnt they had 2 children, one a lawyer, the other a doctor.
They even did the typical old couples’ bickering. He kept trying to make sense of the touch screen on the flight. She asked him to stop. “He’s terrible with these electronics.” Then she said, “I’m tired.” He told her to go to sleep and leave him alone.
When the flight attendants started to serve foods, it was even more fun. He kept asking if she wanted foods on his plate.
“Do you want to try this noodle?”
“No, thank you.”
“How about chicken?”
“No, mine is over here.”
“How about carrot?”
“No, I said no. Thank you.”
He went through every single item. His wife seemed so used to it, I assumed it must be a daily occurrence to her.
We chatted once in a while during the long flight. He was 83 this year, and she 85. The vet was extremely proud of their children. He told me they were both very bright. He used a Thai word to describe them. Then used another to describe himself. I didn’t get the meaning, but of course his wife chimed in, “Yeah, he’s not so smart. My son and daughter got that from me.” In her extremely cute Thai accent.
They both hadn’t been back to SouthEast Asia for 40 years. She was very excited. They were surprised that there were direct flights to Saigon from Japan. She mentioned that she heard new buildings and tourists were common now in Vietnam.
Halfway through the conversation, I realized that the Vietnam in their mind was very different from mine.
For me, I had the Vietnam I grew up with. Then the glorified version taught in school. Following by the Vietnam I got reacquainted with after years studying abroad.
The couples had a different Vietnam from a long time ago, when a war was still ongoing. It was 40 years ago, and that version stopped changing for them. Yeah, once in a while, she would hear from the news that Vietnam now opened its door to tourists. Once in a while, she might hear about some urban development projects (How did that even make the news in the US though?). Or once in a while, she would meet a Vietnamese like me.
But, to them, it was all in the past. I might never have an urge to actively seek my heritage from a distant past. They would never have an urge to rediscover a long gone piece of their history.
Near the end of the flight, the vet wished me the best of luck. “We will be in Thailand for a few months then back here. Maybe we can go to Vietnam next time.”
The wife laughed so hard and I was pleasantly surprised. First, I didn’t know that she could still laugh that hard. Second, I didn’t think she would ever stop. And third, I didn’t expect what she said next.
“This guy, not going to live that long.”
I didn’t know what to follow from that line. So I was just smiling.
We got off the plane. I hurried to catch my next flight. They had a few hours to spare before theirs. To them, Vietnam would again enter a static state, of a war-torn country, rebuilding over time. “Over time”, relatively, since 40 years are a long time for things that matter, but not that long for things that have hardly been passing thoughts.
My next stop would be Saigon. Here things change rather rapidly, but daily it does still feel “same same, but different.” I would hang around mostly with other Vietnamese who cannot care less about the war. Vietnam is, to me, again just the name of a country.