Nowhere In America

I just fin­ished watch­ing Nowhere in Africa with Peggy. It’s good. Won the Oscar for Best For­eign Film a cou­ple of years ago.

The movie made me think about my own life. If democ­racy were sud­denly restored in Viet Nam, I’m sure my par­ents would want to go back. I dunno what I would do, though…

I remem­ber when I went to Dai Hoi 2 in Paris, and when we were just talk­ing and get­ting to know each other, one of the Amer­i­can del­e­gates asked one of the Aus­tralian ones (I’m rack­ing my brain, but I can’t remem­ber their names right now…) where he lived, and he replied, “Well, my home is Viet Nam, but I’m tem­porar­ily liv­ing in Aus­tralia.” And I was just like, “Wow… this guy is hardcore.”

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m very proud of my Viet her­itage, and I’m glad my par­ents took the time to teach me to speak, read, and write Viet­namese as well as teach­ing me the his­tory of my peo­ple, but I feel like Amer­ica is my home now. Maybe it’s because I was born here…

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