Visiting Vietnam and finding a new identity.

• Author: Tran, Son
• Position: Voices

I have always thought of myself as an American since I cannot read or write in Vietnamese. I came to America when I was 5, and for a long time it was the only home I knew. But in 1996, my parents and I went back to Vietnam for the first time since we settled in America. The trip changed my whole perspective on who I really am.

Before the trip, my parents showed me pictures of Vietnam, and long-forgotten memories came back. I recalled walking with my sister down a dirt road to my grandmother's house. I also remembered a hurricane that made our house, which was made of tree branches, fall. We had to run around the village to find some one who would take us in.

My family left Vietnam in 1988 because of the hardships imposed by the Communist government. (For instance, they changed the currency, so the little savings my parents had lost its value.) My parents had told me that Vietnam was a war-devastated country and a bard place to live. I was about to find out for myself.

When we got off the airplane in Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon), the air smelled very strange, but very familiar. I was surprised to find skyscrapers, lavish hotels, and thousands of Vietnamese. Still, I longed to see Tam My, the village where I was born.

It took us more than 20 hours traveling by van to reach Tam My. Along the way, my mind was opened to a world that was new to my eyes, but familiar to my heart: the ever-expanding rice fields, tall mountains, and rows of...