Every morning I took a twenty-minute bus ride to Northwestern Bank of Minneapolis, where I was employed as a junior accountant. On the bus, I was alert and observant. Someone would always be reading her book diligently. She rarely looked up and we never had any eye contact. Months later, I happened to sit next to her. We started a conversation. Her name was Susan.
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| A lasting Vietnamese-American friendship |
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| Laura fishing on Lake Minnewaska |
One sunny afternoon, while I was on my bike coming back from Lake Harriet, I noticed Susan, also on a bike. As soon as she saw me, she jumped off and we greeted each other. She invited me to her apartment for tea, warning me that her place was rather messy.
Her apartment was charming, with a lot of blue and earth colors. One wall was decorated with squares of mirrors. On another wall she had a copy of a Picasso painting. That week Susan suggested that we go to an exhibition of Alexander Calder’s paintings and sculptures. It was held at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. She said this artist had painted the entire exterior of a US airplane in bright colors. Through Susan, I began appreciating various forms of art.
Susan invited me for breakfast and she baked blueberry muffins. They were most delicious and I though I was going to heaven. Then it was my turn to cook and I introduced her to fried spring rolls. She really liked them and we later decided to have a combination of East and West for breakfast.
Susan gave me a surprise birthday party - with a purple piggy-bank cake. I was deeply moved by her kindness. Soon after, her friend Karen offered to give me driving lessons. I was delighted and we went on the road a few times. But Karen decided to stop the lessons. My American sponsor, John, offered to take over the teaching. He was very nervous and every time I made a turn on the road, John would scratch his head nonstop. He soon decided that it was impossible to teach me how to drive.
I enrolled myself at a driving school for six hours of lessons. It was too expensive and my boyfriend Roger decided to help. To his horror, I nearly drove his BMW into Como Lake one evening. I was terrified and had nightmares afterwards. The following week I crashed his parents’ Oldsmobile into a parked car on Summit Avenue – the widest of all streets in the Twin Cities. Roger was furious. That was the end of my driving lessons in Minnesota.
Susan was a competent driver. On several occasions she drove us in her little Honda to her mother’s house in Starbuck, northern Minnesota. Edna owned a spacious house with flower gardens overlooking a beautiful lake named Minnewaska. I loved fishing. Susan didn’t and would prefer to read a book. I spent hours catching walleye and perch. Edna would clean and prepare the fish with beaten eggs and a thin coat of flour. She fried them to perfection. Edna also baked delicious chocolate chip cookies and I would eat them straight from the oven.
Susan and I spent Christmas of 1976 in Starbuck. It was a typical Midwest winter, snow was everywhere, and Lake Minnewaska was completely frozen. Some people even drove their cars over the icy lake. Susan found a motor scooter in her mother’s garage and asked me to try it out. I jumped on it, started the engine, and drove straight across the lake.
Susan’s life began to change significantly from the summer 1977. Roger had a close friend named Gregg. Thinking of connecting Susan with Gregg, I studied their astrological signs, their physical features, and their interests. The combination would be a perfect match.
I arranged a blind date, with a picnic, at Lake Rebecca. Roger had brown hair and Gregg had red hair. I mistakenly told Susan the opposite. When the two men and I arrived at Susan’s apartment to pick her up, she was confused in identifying her date. It was awkward. Susan looked embarrassed and a bit annoyed. I tried to explain, “In my country we don’t have these hair colors. How could you expect me to remember red or brown?
At the picnic site, while Roger and I were busy preparing the BBQ, Susan and Gregg suddenly disappeared. More than an hour later, when they finally came out of the woods, Susan was holding her sandals in her hand. She reported to me, “We felt like we had known each other for twenty years.” Later they got married. Ever since, Susan started telling people that I was her fairy god-mother.
