Dear Vietnam,

I don’t know you well at all, but I also have a piece of you. We are seventy years apart. 

You are a mystery to me even though we are only separated by one generation. When I asked my grandma about you one time, she refused to talk about you. 

You are where my grandparents met, where my mother was conceived.

Where my grandfather was mistreated, working on his brother’s rice farm. 

Where war and United States fear of communism inflicted trauma, bombs, and agent orange on innocent people. 

Where my grandmother began her way by foot through Laos and Thailand to escape. 

I have more questions for you than I have realizations or answers but that is ok. 

What was it like for you to endure Chinese and European colonization? How are you and your people healing? What does it mean to be Chinese by way of Vietnam? Did my ancestors try to capitalize off of your land and your people? 

You are where my ancestors fled for a safer life. 

You give way to many resilient people, families, and communities.

Love,

Hannah