It’s Chinese New Year morning. Except there weren’t a lot of Vietnamese around.
They were here yesterday, and last week. But apparently, on this cold Sunday morning,
gym wasn’t their priority. Attention is devoted to festivals and festivities at the Temples, in the park and at the fair.
Like in-country counterparts, they would put on new clothes and carry li-xi envelopes ready to be dispensed, like an eager college freshman with stacks of condom supplies.
Here in Orange County, the festivities have only just begun. Bands were busy rehearsing, and bottles pre-ordered (up scale wine and dine).
I thought to myself, what a wonderful world.
Had I stayed my entire time in Vietnam, what the Me would have turned out?
– I wouldn’t show up at the gym on the first day of Tet either (none would be opened) and
would still fight the hang over from the New Year Eve’s celebration.
– I would drink strong cafe sua da (iced latte), perhaps from the only Starbucks in town.
– Sometimes people go the movies during Tet (since there aren’t a lot of entertainment venues that could accommodate an entire extended family). This year, Die Hard is opened on New Year’s Day in Vietnam.
Ten days before, they showed “My Nhan Ke” (femme fatale), complete with sword fighting and Crouching -Tiger Matrix-like effects.
– I would stay home early in the morning, for fear of being the first visitor to friends’ houses. Who would want to be blamed for the bad outcome of their entire year!.
Banh Chung (green-bean cakes) and pickled onion would be my brunch, since restaurant workers also stay home to celebrate their own Tet.
Then comes the dreaded part: the unwanted relatives.
They would want to reorder my life’s priorities by matchmaking attempts.
I would burn incenses for my deceased parents, offering fruits and flowers along with Banh Chung and confitures.
Tet in Vietnam or in the US is the same.
But the man I used to be (the Me in relation to others e.g. uncle, brother-in-law, etc…) has changed.
I work out, I read, I blog and frankly, I have become atomized and adapting to both virtual and western world.
My motto is to observe, filter and retain only necessary data (handling spam mail) for survival.
I want to connect the dots or else others would do it for me.
Instead of being the mini-we in We, I have become the Me on my own, with legs to stand on.
It’s like the spirits of the Dust Bowl. Rebuilding after the gathering storm, all on one’s own.
We are evolving into new creatures of the Web, where Who We Are is influenced by what we view, like and whom we share it with.
It won’t happen overnight, but it is evolving. The same way our taste for music and fashion by osmosis once shaped by our next up of kin (or closest friends).
Or else, how would we explain an entire generation falling in love with American Pie, Vincent, Say You Say me.
My friend mentioned Lionel Richie‘s line “easy as Sunday Morning”.
So it’s Sunday Morning. The Vietnamese who would otherwise show up at the gym, have taken it easy “like Sunday Morning”.
It’s new year. It’s a celebration. Time for feasting and eating. To broker marriages and business relations.
Even to forgive trespasses both from the religious (Sunday) and cultural (Tet) stand point. Let us not fall into temptation. I am sure after these three days, (with gambling and drinking involved) many would find above prayer more meaningful if not personable. The Me who could’ve been should have taken it easy like Sunday morning.
Instead, I end up going to the gym all these three days and only take small bites of the bean cake. It’s brand simple, but a winning entry for our national contest for the throne. Back when the general consensus was that the Earth was square. And that it’s not good for a man to be alone on this very day. He has to be a mini-we in the context of a larger batch that hatched into a tribe called Lac Viet, ancestors of today’s Vietnamese. No wonder those “Individualized” stairmasters remain unoccupied on this New Year’s morning: everybody is reclaiming what’s they once were.
Thang Nguyen 555 