Month: June 2010

Collision of Cultures

My friend of 50 years, Anh-Tuan, took me for a walking tour of Little Saigon, in Los Angeles. To the untrained eye, this population of several hundred thousand Vietnamese—looks to be a culture that is thriving in Los Angeles. Then he began unraveling the challenges for such a community: inadequate parking, poor mass transit infrastructure, a thorough lack of city planning in general. And there is a lack of cultural sensitivity. This picture, taken in the heart of Little Saigon, displays Chinese, not Vietnamese-themed statuary.

Friends for 50 Years

Have you ever heard from a person you have known for 50 years — but haven’t spoken to in 48 years? That’s what happened to me when my childhood friend, Anh-Tuan, contacted me on Facebook. We last saw each other in 4th grade, in 1962, when we were classmates in Germany. And then we found out that we are now living within a 40 minute drive, in Southern California! Finally, this weekend, we got together for an unreal day of catching up. We were later joined at a Vietnamese restaurant by his wife, YLan, a very well-known Vienamese singer. After enjoying dinner, Ylan was recruited to sing a few songs for the appreciative diners — as was Anh-Tuan!

Rhino

A tragedy yesterday at the parole office where I teach remedial education classes. One of my favorite students, nicknamed “Rhino” for his wide and sturdy build, didn’t come to class, and he didn’t call to tell me he wasn’t coming, as was his usual custom. A fellow classmate found him yesterday morning, lying facedown on his bed in his parole-furnished motel room. He had passed away during the night from a heroin overdose, cutting his 39-year life very short.

Rhino was the one who, just two weeks ago, called me into the hallway, where he wept openly as he told me that he might not be able to attend his son’s continuation high school graduation because of parole restrictions. His son was the first one in the family to ever graduate from high school. George was ecstatic when it turned out that he was able to go to the graduation after all. Two days ago, George had brought his son’s printed graduation program to class to show me his name.