50 năm xa Hànội
30 năm mất Saigon
Bao nhiêu năm đất khách
Cho tròn nỗi cô đơn!?...
-Quýdenver-
6. Lại một bắt đầu
Cuộc đời là gì nếu không phải là những chưỗi dài những cái bắt đầu... bắt đầu cho một khổ đau, bắt đầu cho một hạnh phúc, bắt đầu cho một nỗi buồn, niềm vui...
Đại tá X, người đã lo cho vợ con tôi an toàn đến Mỹ trước đây, có lần nói với tôi cuộc sống tại Mỹ rất khó khăn đối với những người không có một nghề nào trong tay như tôi, trong khi lại phải lo cho một người vợ không biết tiếng Mỹ với 5 đứa con còn nhỏ tuổi. Đó cũng là điều tôi thật sự lo lắng, nhất định phải kiếm một việc làm trong thời gian sớm nhất. It ra, đã hơn một lần tôi nói với người vợ không biết tiếng Mỹ và 2 đứa con trai lớn, còn ở tuổi vị thành niên: “Nên nhớ, chúng ta chạy sang Mỹ vì tự do chứ không phải vì miếng cơm manh áo!”
Khi còn bên Việt Nam, tôi có một chiếc xe hơi nhỏ, hiệu Saab do Thụy Điển chế tạo, mua lại của nữ ca sĩ Minh Hiếu. Hình như Viêt Nam chỉ nhập cảng có 2 chiếc xe hiệu đó rồi thôi. Để giữ cho chiếc xe có thể chạy được, tôi đã phải sửa chữa, đôi khi còn phải tìm cách chế biến, những bộ phân hư hỏng, vì không thể mua những bộ phận này ngoài thị trường để thay thế. Do vậy, tôi có được một sự hiểu biết tường tận về công dụng và sự vận hành từng bộ phận của một bộ máy xe hơi căn bản. Tôi biết, cấp bậc, chức vụ cũng như ngành nghề của tôi trong KQ không thể trở thành cái nghề nuôi sống tôi ngoài dân sự dù là ở Việt Nam hay Mỹ.
Cuộc đời là gì nếu không phải là những chưỗi dài những cái bắt đầu... bắt đầu cho một khổ đau, bắt đầu cho một hạnh phúc, bắt đầu cho một nỗi buồn, niềm vui...
Đại tá X, người đã lo cho vợ con tôi an toàn đến Mỹ trước đây, có lần nói với tôi cuộc sống tại Mỹ rất khó khăn đối với những người không có một nghề nào trong tay như tôi, trong khi lại phải lo cho một người vợ không biết tiếng Mỹ với 5 đứa con còn nhỏ tuổi. Đó cũng là điều tôi thật sự lo lắng, nhất định phải kiếm một việc làm trong thời gian sớm nhất. It ra, đã hơn một lần tôi nói với người vợ không biết tiếng Mỹ và 2 đứa con trai lớn, còn ở tuổi vị thành niên: “Nên nhớ, chúng ta chạy sang Mỹ vì tự do chứ không phải vì miếng cơm manh áo!”
Khi còn bên Việt Nam, tôi có một chiếc xe hơi nhỏ, hiệu Saab do Thụy Điển chế tạo, mua lại của nữ ca sĩ Minh Hiếu. Hình như Viêt Nam chỉ nhập cảng có 2 chiếc xe hiệu đó rồi thôi. Để giữ cho chiếc xe có thể chạy được, tôi đã phải sửa chữa, đôi khi còn phải tìm cách chế biến, những bộ phân hư hỏng, vì không thể mua những bộ phận này ngoài thị trường để thay thế. Do vậy, tôi có được một sự hiểu biết tường tận về công dụng và sự vận hành từng bộ phận của một bộ máy xe hơi căn bản. Tôi biết, cấp bậc, chức vụ cũng như ngành nghề của tôi trong KQ không thể trở thành cái nghề nuôi sống tôi ngoài dân sự dù là ở Việt Nam hay Mỹ.
Suy đi tính lại, tôi thấy việc tôi có thể làm được ở Mỹ là thợ sửa xe hơi. Tôi lợi dụng thời gian rảnh rỗi chờ ngày xuất trại tỵ nạn, tìm kiếm sách vở để nghiên cứu, học hỏi thêm. Tôi thấy xe Mỹ rất tối tân so với chiếc xe Saab cũ kỹ lạc hậu của tôi, nhưng tôi vẫn thường có một niềm tin mãnh liệt ở khả năng của tôi: khi tôi quyết tâm làm việc gì thì tôi có thể làm được. Tôi mạnh dạn nói với những người bảo trợ là tôi biết sửa xe hơi và yêu cầu họ kiếm cho tôi một việc làm ngay khi gia đình chúng tôi đến nơi định cư.
Thứ Năm, 17 tháng 7 năm 1975, gia đình tôi được đưa đến định cư tại thành phố Arvada, một thành phố nhỏ, rất bảo thủ ở phía bắc Denver, thủ phủ của tiểu bang Colorado. Thứ Bảy, 19 tháng 7 năm 1975, tức là 2 ngày sau, tôi được đưa đến găp ông Harry Linch để xin việc và được nhận làm việc tại một tiệm sửa xe hơi của ông. Thứ Hai, 21 tháng 7 năm 1975, tôi đi làm, bắt đầu cuộc sống mới…
“Chao Mung” and Quy family adjusts to “being born again”
By Florence Moore
The Arvada Citizen Sentinel, Wed., July 23, 1975
“Chao Mung”
“Chao Mung”
“Is that the right way to say it?”
The parking lot at King of Glory Lutheran Church in Arvada sounded like an exotic foreign outpost. But it was just the welcoming committee practicing “Welcome” in Vietnamese. They were getting ready to greet Nguyen Van Quy, his wife, Do Thi Dai, and their five children.
Pastor Tom Guinn and a young intern, Rick Eisenlord, joined the ladies. Pastor Guinn was carrying a huge bag of toys he had picked up at K-Mart for the kids. The women loaded assorted goodies, including two teapots and a cake, into their cars and 10 eager welcomers took off for Stapleton Airport to meet the 2:25 p.m. Frontier flight from Texas. Mrs. Lonnie Kelsay was probably the most exited woman in the whole crew. She was the chairwoman of the King of Glory committee appointed to sponsor the Vietnamese family. She had spent countless hours working on the project since it was approved by the Church Council early in June.
Others on the committee were almost as exited now that they were finally going to meet the family they had been so busy preparing for. On hand for the excursion to the airport were Mrs. Ruth Smith, Mrs. Judy Schirazi, Mrs. Mary Lou Perkins, Mrs. Mary Beuthel and a youth member of the committee, Cindy Johannsen, 15. Mrs. Virginia Swenson was going directly to the apartment the committee had found for the Quy family to make sure every last detail was ready.
On the way to the airport, Mrs. Kelsay explained that sponsors of Vietnamese families who work through the Lutheran Immigration Refugee Society must find a job for the father, a place for them to live and must guarantee the family’s financial support for two months. Most important, the sponsors have to assure the family “community acceptance and moral support”, Mrs. Kelsay said. She was already planning to invite the Quy family to a King of Glory picnic on Sunday. Since the family is Buddhist they would not be urged to attend church services at King of Glory. Quy would be invited to attend services organization meetings.
Mrs.Kelsay was most concerned about Quy’s wife. Dai or Mrs. Quy, unlike her husband and oldest son, knew no English. Lonnie was hoping to help her adjust to life in the States by taking her to the adult tutorial program classes in English she and Mrs. Beuthel teach at St. Elizabeth’s church in Denver. She was sure the rest of the children would pick up English and make friends easily as soon as they enter school in the fall. Two women on the committee, both teachers, have offered to help them enroll and make sure they get into classes they can handle.
The committee looked long and hard before picking a new home for Quy and his family. They found a three-bedroom government subsidized apartment near West Ralston Creek at W. 59th Ave. and Pierce Street. Then they conducted a church wide drive to furnish it. They had spent all day Wednesday arranging furniture, stocking the pantry and making beds. One volunteer call it “early King of Glory” decor but the results were so comfortable and pleasant the committee was absolutely delighted. Mrs. Beuthel said she was amazed that all the donations fit together so well and that there was practically no duplication. When the Quys walked in they would find everything from rice to pots and pans, from a portable television set to a four-slice toaster. Colorful quilts and spreads brightened every bedroom and vases of flowers added more color.
The committee had also lined up a job for Quy. He would start to work the following Monday at Harry Linch’s Standard Station at Wadsworth Bypass and Grandview Ave. as an auto mechanic. Mrs. Kelsay said Linch’s response when asked if he could furnish a job was, “If I don’t have a job, I’ll make one.” “That dear man”, she said, “He’s just been beautiful.”
Besides Miss Johannsen and a reporter from the Arvada Citizen Sentinel, Mrs. Kelsay had one more passenger in her car. She was a charming 20-year Vietnamese girl who is a student in Mrs. Kelsay’s English class at St. Elizabeth’s. The young woman picked up the English language amazingly well in only two months. She cleared up some of the confusion over Vietnamese names. Her name is Quy too, but it is not the same as the male Quy. The difference lies in the inflection rather than the spelling. The entire language depends to a large degree on inflection. It is not an ancient language. Until the 19th century, Chinese was spoken in Vietnam.
Vietnamese families use their last names first. Nguyen Van Quy would translate something like Smith, Ed Joe. You don’t say Mr. Nguyen because the name is so common no one would know who you meant. You say “Mr. Quy,” because the last name is the one that counts. Married women keep their own names. Quy’s wife is called Dai but if addressed as the wife of her husband, she would be called Mrs. Quy.
Finally the entire group assembled in the waiting area and waited on pins and needles. Two Frontier planes taxied on past the window but finally a two-propeller plane stopped just outside the window. People started to emerge and just as it seemed the small plane could not have held one more passenger and the Quy family must have gotten lost, someone squealed, “There they are. It has to be them.”
Quy, 42, was slim, short by American standards, and erect. He wore a business suit. His slender wife, 39, wore a long print sheath, with slits, over a pair of black trousers. The two boys wore neat shirts and slacks and looked like smaller versions of their father. The three little girls wore identical pink dresses that set off their black hair and dark eyes.
Once inside the airport, the family was enveloped in a throng of smiling, handshaking Arvadans who repeated, “Chao mung” over and over. Cameras flashed and the delighted welcoming committee steered their guests toward the exit. Rev. Guinn was the epitome of western hospitality. His friendly manner seemed to put Quy family at ease immediately. Politely and firm, Mrs. Quy rejected all offers to carry her youngest daughter, a darling little girl who was just as determined to hold onto her mother.
The next stop was the baggage counter where Quy identified five pieces of luggage – a medium-size suitcase, a heavy cardboard carton and three small satchels, one no larger than a lady’s handbag. This was the sum total of the material possessions the family owned.
The five children, shining clean, were obviously worn out from their travels. Later the committee learned they had all been airsick when the plan hit choppy weather between Pueblo and Denver. Quan, 14, had the same quiet dignity and pleasant smile his dad displayed. As the group waited for their drivers to bring their cars to the door, Quan patiently repeated his brother’s and three small sisters’ names as Rick Eisenlord attempted to get them down pat. Quan studied English in high school in Vietnam. The list of names sounded something like a Latin conjugation and Quan had to smile as Rick struggled with Quynh - 12, Quyen - 9, Que - 6 and Quang - 2.
On the way back to Arvada, Quy said he spent 11 months at Lowry Air Force Base in Denver in 1956. Concerning his new job as an auto mechanic, he is must more accustomed to the small foreign cars common in Vietnam but he is sure he can quickly apply his technical knowledge to American cars. In Vietnam, he mentioned, mechanics were used to repairing car parts - not ordering new ones.
He is obviously concerned about his wife’s happiness in her new home and commented, “In our country, according to our custom, the wife doses not go out too often. When she marries, she stays home.” He said his children adapted quickly to American food but that his wife is having a hard time getting used to it.
On the way home, Mrs. Beuthel and Mrs. Schrazi pointed out the service station where Quy will be working. His children will attend East Arvada Junior High and Foster Elementary Schools, also close to his new home.
When the group finally reached the apartment in Arvada it was obvious that the Quy family was delighted, grateful, but near collapse. Mr. Quy said he did not know how to thank his benefactors. The committee tried to tell him how much pleasure they derived from being allowed to help him. They knew he must be sad to leave his country and his friends for a strange new land. Quy obviously is not a man given to feeling sorry for himself. He does not expect to return to his homeland. “We feel we cannot,” he said, “I tell my family, we are being born again,”
The congregation of King of Glory Lutheran Church is determined to make the Quy family as happy as possible in Arvada. Hopefully the entire city also will open its heart to this charming family from a different world.
Cuộc đời là gì nếu không phải là những chưỗi dài những cái bắt đầu... bắt đầu cho một khổ đau, bắt đầu cho một hạnh phúc, bắt đầu cho một nỗi buồn, niềm vui...
Denver, Colorado, tháng Tư 2000
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Thứ Năm, 17 tháng 7 năm 1975, gia đình tôi được đưa đến định cư tại thành phố Arvada, một thành phố nhỏ, rất bảo thủ ở phía bắc Denver, thủ phủ của tiểu bang Colorado. Thứ Bảy, 19 tháng 7 năm 1975, tức là 2 ngày sau, tôi được đưa đến găp ông Harry Linch để xin việc và được nhận làm việc tại một tiệm sửa xe hơi của ông. Thứ Hai, 21 tháng 7 năm 1975, tôi đi làm, bắt đầu cuộc sống mới…
“Chao Mung” and Quy family adjusts to “being born again”
By Florence Moore
The Arvada Citizen Sentinel, Wed., July 23, 1975
“Chao Mung”
“Chao Mung”
“Is that the right way to say it?”
The parking lot at King of Glory Lutheran Church in Arvada sounded like an exotic foreign outpost. But it was just the welcoming committee practicing “Welcome” in Vietnamese. They were getting ready to greet Nguyen Van Quy, his wife, Do Thi Dai, and their five children.
Pastor Tom Guinn and a young intern, Rick Eisenlord, joined the ladies. Pastor Guinn was carrying a huge bag of toys he had picked up at K-Mart for the kids. The women loaded assorted goodies, including two teapots and a cake, into their cars and 10 eager welcomers took off for Stapleton Airport to meet the 2:25 p.m. Frontier flight from Texas. Mrs. Lonnie Kelsay was probably the most exited woman in the whole crew. She was the chairwoman of the King of Glory committee appointed to sponsor the Vietnamese family. She had spent countless hours working on the project since it was approved by the Church Council early in June.
Others on the committee were almost as exited now that they were finally going to meet the family they had been so busy preparing for. On hand for the excursion to the airport were Mrs. Ruth Smith, Mrs. Judy Schirazi, Mrs. Mary Lou Perkins, Mrs. Mary Beuthel and a youth member of the committee, Cindy Johannsen, 15. Mrs. Virginia Swenson was going directly to the apartment the committee had found for the Quy family to make sure every last detail was ready.
On the way to the airport, Mrs. Kelsay explained that sponsors of Vietnamese families who work through the Lutheran Immigration Refugee Society must find a job for the father, a place for them to live and must guarantee the family’s financial support for two months. Most important, the sponsors have to assure the family “community acceptance and moral support”, Mrs. Kelsay said. She was already planning to invite the Quy family to a King of Glory picnic on Sunday. Since the family is Buddhist they would not be urged to attend church services at King of Glory. Quy would be invited to attend services organization meetings.
Mrs.Kelsay was most concerned about Quy’s wife. Dai or Mrs. Quy, unlike her husband and oldest son, knew no English. Lonnie was hoping to help her adjust to life in the States by taking her to the adult tutorial program classes in English she and Mrs. Beuthel teach at St. Elizabeth’s church in Denver. She was sure the rest of the children would pick up English and make friends easily as soon as they enter school in the fall. Two women on the committee, both teachers, have offered to help them enroll and make sure they get into classes they can handle.
The committee looked long and hard before picking a new home for Quy and his family. They found a three-bedroom government subsidized apartment near West Ralston Creek at W. 59th Ave. and Pierce Street. Then they conducted a church wide drive to furnish it. They had spent all day Wednesday arranging furniture, stocking the pantry and making beds. One volunteer call it “early King of Glory” decor but the results were so comfortable and pleasant the committee was absolutely delighted. Mrs. Beuthel said she was amazed that all the donations fit together so well and that there was practically no duplication. When the Quys walked in they would find everything from rice to pots and pans, from a portable television set to a four-slice toaster. Colorful quilts and spreads brightened every bedroom and vases of flowers added more color.
The committee had also lined up a job for Quy. He would start to work the following Monday at Harry Linch’s Standard Station at Wadsworth Bypass and Grandview Ave. as an auto mechanic. Mrs. Kelsay said Linch’s response when asked if he could furnish a job was, “If I don’t have a job, I’ll make one.” “That dear man”, she said, “He’s just been beautiful.”
Besides Miss Johannsen and a reporter from the Arvada Citizen Sentinel, Mrs. Kelsay had one more passenger in her car. She was a charming 20-year Vietnamese girl who is a student in Mrs. Kelsay’s English class at St. Elizabeth’s. The young woman picked up the English language amazingly well in only two months. She cleared up some of the confusion over Vietnamese names. Her name is Quy too, but it is not the same as the male Quy. The difference lies in the inflection rather than the spelling. The entire language depends to a large degree on inflection. It is not an ancient language. Until the 19th century, Chinese was spoken in Vietnam.
Vietnamese families use their last names first. Nguyen Van Quy would translate something like Smith, Ed Joe. You don’t say Mr. Nguyen because the name is so common no one would know who you meant. You say “Mr. Quy,” because the last name is the one that counts. Married women keep their own names. Quy’s wife is called Dai but if addressed as the wife of her husband, she would be called Mrs. Quy.
Finally the entire group assembled in the waiting area and waited on pins and needles. Two Frontier planes taxied on past the window but finally a two-propeller plane stopped just outside the window. People started to emerge and just as it seemed the small plane could not have held one more passenger and the Quy family must have gotten lost, someone squealed, “There they are. It has to be them.”
Quy, 42, was slim, short by American standards, and erect. He wore a business suit. His slender wife, 39, wore a long print sheath, with slits, over a pair of black trousers. The two boys wore neat shirts and slacks and looked like smaller versions of their father. The three little girls wore identical pink dresses that set off their black hair and dark eyes.
Once inside the airport, the family was enveloped in a throng of smiling, handshaking Arvadans who repeated, “Chao mung” over and over. Cameras flashed and the delighted welcoming committee steered their guests toward the exit. Rev. Guinn was the epitome of western hospitality. His friendly manner seemed to put Quy family at ease immediately. Politely and firm, Mrs. Quy rejected all offers to carry her youngest daughter, a darling little girl who was just as determined to hold onto her mother.
The next stop was the baggage counter where Quy identified five pieces of luggage – a medium-size suitcase, a heavy cardboard carton and three small satchels, one no larger than a lady’s handbag. This was the sum total of the material possessions the family owned.
The five children, shining clean, were obviously worn out from their travels. Later the committee learned they had all been airsick when the plan hit choppy weather between Pueblo and Denver. Quan, 14, had the same quiet dignity and pleasant smile his dad displayed. As the group waited for their drivers to bring their cars to the door, Quan patiently repeated his brother’s and three small sisters’ names as Rick Eisenlord attempted to get them down pat. Quan studied English in high school in Vietnam. The list of names sounded something like a Latin conjugation and Quan had to smile as Rick struggled with Quynh - 12, Quyen - 9, Que - 6 and Quang - 2.
On the way back to Arvada, Quy said he spent 11 months at Lowry Air Force Base in Denver in 1956. Concerning his new job as an auto mechanic, he is must more accustomed to the small foreign cars common in Vietnam but he is sure he can quickly apply his technical knowledge to American cars. In Vietnam, he mentioned, mechanics were used to repairing car parts - not ordering new ones.
He is obviously concerned about his wife’s happiness in her new home and commented, “In our country, according to our custom, the wife doses not go out too often. When she marries, she stays home.” He said his children adapted quickly to American food but that his wife is having a hard time getting used to it.
On the way home, Mrs. Beuthel and Mrs. Schrazi pointed out the service station where Quy will be working. His children will attend East Arvada Junior High and Foster Elementary Schools, also close to his new home.
When the group finally reached the apartment in Arvada it was obvious that the Quy family was delighted, grateful, but near collapse. Mr. Quy said he did not know how to thank his benefactors. The committee tried to tell him how much pleasure they derived from being allowed to help him. They knew he must be sad to leave his country and his friends for a strange new land. Quy obviously is not a man given to feeling sorry for himself. He does not expect to return to his homeland. “We feel we cannot,” he said, “I tell my family, we are being born again,”
The congregation of King of Glory Lutheran Church is determined to make the Quy family as happy as possible in Arvada. Hopefully the entire city also will open its heart to this charming family from a different world.
Cuộc đời là gì nếu không phải là những chưỗi dài những cái bắt đầu... bắt đầu cho một khổ đau, bắt đầu cho một hạnh phúc, bắt đầu cho một nỗi buồn, niềm vui...
Denver, Colorado, tháng Tư 2000
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