My name is Brian Webb. I am 33 years old, from California. My Vietnamese is not good at all.
It’s a bit embarrassing because I’ve been in this country for a total of about 3 years. Maybe more.
But I do understand enough to answer the three basic question everyone asks when I meet them:
Where are you from? (You know already).
How old are you? (You know already)
Are you married yet?
The answer to the last question is no. I am not married. I can answer this question in Vietnamese. Khong. Easy. But the word "chưa" gives me difficulties. Not because of pronunciation, but because it leads to endless questions.
“Why not?”
“When will you get married?”
“Do you think Vietnamese girls are nice?”
I feel that I cannot tell the truth.... I think I will never be married.
Actually, I’m no fortune teller, and I cannot predict the future. So never say never, but I have no intention of getting married. Ever.
Today I was at a restaurant, to do a story about bún cá, (a dish that I’ve hated, but I will tell you about that later). As I was leaving the owner of the place asked me the preliminary questions. You know the answers. But when it came to, “No, I’m not married,” he would not let me leave. He started telling me how beautiful Vietnamese girls are, and how “suitable” they would be for a wife.
My friends had left the place already, the man made me stay. He went around the corner, and came back pulling a young girl by the arm. I’d already told him my age. She seemed to be around 17.
Don’t get me wrong, she was pretty. Very pretty. And I’m not saying he was offering her to me. Of course not. Even if I had proposed to her on the spot, she may not have agreed (from the look on her face, I think that she would’ve said no). And even if she had said “yes”, her parents would probably take one look at me and refuse for her.
Now this girl was pretty. Very, very pretty. Pretty enough so that when I looked at her I thought about kissing her. Of course that didn’t happen, for some reasons that are obvious, and others that are personal. But still, I thought about it...
And then my mind flashed forward: Marriage. Babies waking me up in the middle of the night. Children needing shoes and socks and milk and clothes. My wife yelling at me because I don’t make enough money, or because I don’t come home early enough.
Am I selfish for that?
I like children, especially in Vietnam. In America they’re too spoiled. There I’ve seen 9-year olds with more expensive cell phones than I could afford; maybe they wouldn’t even shake my hand. Children in America are spoiled and overprotected.
In Vietnam children are adorable and earnest. They are interested and curious. Here families are close and, as far as I can tell, loving.
Last week my neighbor let me hold her newborn baby. I was happy to hold her. It made me smile. But I was also happy to hand the baby back.
In my life I would like to take care of myself, and I would like to take care of my mother. When I die, if there’s anything left, I would give it to some foundation that saves other people’s children, or monkeys.
Maybe I’m selfish.
Source: dtinews.vn