Tough Love

In English class (again—we write so many interesting papers!), we recently finished reading The Things They Carried, by Tim O’Brien. While a novel and not a memoir, The Things They Carried is certainly a worthwhile read whether or not you are interested in the Vietnam War. O’Brien details his experiences as a young soldier in the war artfully and insightfully. I really enjoyed this book (O’Brien might be my new favorite author!), and I hope you will go out and read it.

Our assignment was to write about the things that we carry physically, emotionally, and otherwise. While I could write pages and pages on this, time is limited, and following is a slightly edited version of what I wrote:

On August 26th, I left for Vietnam. I carried two suitcases and a lime green backpack stuffed full. I carried clothes and shoes and shampoo and a pocket knife and sunscreen. I carried my sixteen-year-old pink walrus Mookie and Blankie and photos of my families and friends in the US. I carried homemade chocolate chip cookie bars for sustenance, and a box of pasta and miscellaneous gifts for my host family. My past sixteen years and my next four months of life in two suitcases and a lime-green backpack.

In the car on the way to the airport, I suddenly wondered, “What am I doing?!” Waving goodbye to my family as I passed through security, blinking the tears from my eyes, I wondered again, “Why am I doing this?!” From DC to LA, I carried anxiety and indecision. For five hours, I kept asking myself those questions. Then I got to LA and figured it out: I was going to Vietnam! And it was going to be awesome. An almost tangible sense of excitement buzzed in the air around me. I got quite impatient. Now I was carrying two suitcases, a lime green backpack, anxiety, excitement, and impatience. And when we finally arrived I found myself still carrying everything! Only when I met my new family could I put down my suitcases. And only now, months later, I have lost the anxiety and impatience (not the excitement though!).

So my load seems pretty light—just a lime green backpack. But how could I move here and not pick up anything new? I now carry four new pairs of shoes (they were a good deal!) and various gifts for my family and friends in the States. I carry new knowledge about Vietnam’s history and language, about writing and math, about economics and environmental science. I carry the same love of learning I have always carried, but it has grown stronger and rooted deeper. I carry the same morals and beliefs I left with, but with a new perspective. I carry the experience of living in a foreign developing country, of walking down a street knowing I am the only person in the vicinity who speaks English, of living with and loving a new family from a radically different culture. I carry an appreciation for this new culture as well as a deeper appreciation for my own. I carry a love for two countries.

I love the US for its democracy and checks and balances and people and ideas and free market. I love Vietnam for its people and their entrepreneurialism and for its beautiful mountains and for its potential. But right now it’s only potential, and I want to nurture it and watch it grow into something truly beautiful. I feel like my soul has split. Or rather multiplied. I love my home country no less, really more, and I have a newfound love for Vietnam and a desire to change it. To have two homes, thousands of miles apart, is tough love.