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| Boat ride on a part of the Mekong Delta River with my bamboo hat. |
I traveled with my father to visit his hometown of My Tho, Vietnam in spring of 2008. This was the place where my hero grew up. A place of peaceful, luscious rice paddies and wholesome peasant life. After visiting the family tomb and lighting incense for the ancestors, my father took me to see the people he grew up around. I was looking forward to meeting the village elders and hearing them reminisce about stories of yesteryear. The nostalgia! The history! I had all this positive chi flowing until...
Dad: Hello! Hello! So good to see you! You remember my daughter don't you Ba Hai? You remember Phuong right? She was probably less than 3 years old the last time you saw her. Look how tall she's grown!
In my mind: Of course! How could I forget? She was that adorable little girl who used to play no nicely with the other children!
Ba Hai (reality): Of course! How could I forget? She was that rambunctious little girl who used to pee into a funnel standing up when she played make-believe that she was a boy!
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| Oh yes, she did! |
Mortified. Stunned. Face frozen. Botox face. Good news. China is only across the border. I can still make it. Where's that damn shovel?!?!
Ba Hai must have been at least 80 years old. She had seen everything. Foreign occupation. War. The rebuilding of a nation. And apparently, she had seen me pee into a plastic funnel by the pond out back and remembered it 2 decades later at the drop of a bamboo hat.
On the way home, my father turned to me and said, "I can't believe you peed into a funnel. In public! How did you realize the difference in male and female anatomy? How did you know boys had penises when you were less than 3? My little daughter was so smart!" (Gotta love dad!)
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| My dad in a tunnel. He was always a support parent. I hope China is nice this time of year. |
