Guilty Pleasure

I’ve always had this guilty pleasure since a teenager. My mom used to watch “Phim Tau” (Chinese movies/TV shows) that were dubbed into Vietnamese. These shows could range from 30-40 episodes (or more). So, as a teenager I used to go through my mom’s collection of TV series she’s collected (mostly from the 80’s-90’s).

Now that I’m out of the house, and constantly trying to find these shows (I prefer them in Vietnamese, but that seldomly ever happens). So I’ve switched to Drama Fever. LOL.

Anyways, one of the things I used to THINK I could do, was write reviews for these series. PFFT, yea that didn’t work out well. I remember I used to take a book and write notes as I watched the series (LOL) and take snapshots of it. Now, it’s to easy to screenshot. But, I’m too lazy for that now. I’d rather watch.

I hope in the future, someone launches a website so I can watch these series in Vietnamese, because that’s how I retained my language. Bahaha.

Anyways, have a great day everyone.

Family History

My entire life (so far), my parents never talked about the Vietnam War. I know it brings up bad memories for many people. Heck, many people don’t talk about it at all. But because many people don’t talk about it, I get more curious about it.

My parents left Vietnam before the war ended. My mom was a “boat person” and snuck out with her relatives. My dad was an army medic for the South Vietnamese and aided Americans in the war. From what I was told by an older cousin. My dad came to USA because he was on a mission of some sort, and the other chopper accompanying them, got shot down. So they rescued who they could, and the chopper he was on went straight out to sea & was taken to Guam by a Navy ship.

I remember growing up and doing history projects about our family was so difficult for me. I was always that one student where my family tree ended at my grandparents (with unknown birth dates). I felt so ashamed of that! But I couldn’t press my parents for more information because they both left Vietnam at a young age. My mom was around 5-ish, and my father was 18-19. Both left their family, not knowing their outcome or how their families were. A lot of the times their answers were, “I don’t know or remember.”

Now that I’m older, I’m still curious, but I understand the pain to talk about a painful memory. When people ask me about my dad, I still get sad and teary eyed about his passing.

Hopefully, in the future, I can hear more stories of my parents. What their childhood was like, and our families.