Thảo Võ, writing for Salon:

The Vietnamese language is written with marks — diacritics — that represent different tones. To me, the diacritics represent childhood. They represent confusion. They represent something I cannot reach. It’s a change in the pitch of my voice that I have not perfected. It’s my entire family history. And so the saying of my name and the writing of it becomes complicated. I’m not here to teach my colleagues Vietnamese. I can’t. I can barely pronounce the language correctly myself. It’s a gift to be given or earned. My heart warms when I hear Vietnamese spoken with a southern accent. It’s something for me to work toward.

It’s a beautiful personal essay that reassures me that it’s OK to give my kids Vietnamese names. Xuân and Vương are difficult for Americans to pronounce, but I love to see them try.

Today I deleted all the files and databases for both Visualgui.com and iLoveNgocLan.com accounts on HostPapa. I migrated Visualgui.com to DigitalOcean in August and migrated iLoveNgocLan.com to SiteGround in September.

HostPapa is one of the greediest hosting providers on the internet. It tried to hit me twice with CPU limits for my WordPress sites. If you’re hosting your WordPress site with HostPapa, I recommend that you move somewhere else. If you have technical background, move your site to DigitalOcean. If you don’t, move your site to SiteGround. The SiteGround Migrator plugin worked like a charm. It took me less than 30 minutes to move iLoveNgocLan.com.

I never wanted to host with HostPapa to begin with. I didn’t have a choice after it acquired Lunarpages. After the takeover, HostPapa increased my monthly price already, but it was not enough so they tried upgrade my plan again and again. I put in requests to cancel everything on HostPapa and will never come back to them again.

In celebrating poetry, a class project for Đán, the goal was for students to respond to poetry through movement, speech, or art to further their understanding. Students had to share the poem they had written in a creative way such as drawing a poster, acting it out, or singing it.

Sounded like a fun project, but Đán kept procrastinating. He came up with the concept, but he didn’t ask for help to execute it. Even though the project was due today, he had nothing over the weekend. I had to email his teacher to ask for the project requirements.

On Friday night, my wife made him sit at the table and write down everything before he could go to bed. She had to sit next to him to help him generate ideas. He protested, but wrote down the lines. Saturday morning, I helped him put together his lines into a poem even though I have no clue about poetry. He came up with the title: “If There Were No Internet.” Here’s the final poem by Đán Trương:

If there were no internet,
I would be bored to death.
I would fall down in bed.

If there were no internet,
I would stare at my Windows.
All I would see is my own shadows.

Because there was no internet
for me to play video games,
my brain burst into flames.

Because there was no internet,
I went to the skate park
and dropped into the bowl
like drowning in my soul.
And I didn’t stop skating until the sky turned dark.

One of the requirements was to use at least three forms of figurative language. He came up with three, “bored to death,” “stare at my Windows,” and “my brain burst into flames.” I helped him with the fourth one, “drowning in my soul.”

After helping him finish his poem, I went to Michael’s to pick up some posters for him to write and to draw. He drew an internet Wifi with a red strike, the Windows logo, his brain burst into flames, and a skatepark with him dropping into the bowl.

We practiced a few rounds of presentation. I kept reminding him to slow down, to speak clearly, and to engage with his audience. I hope he will do well. I am very proud of his work, which took the three of us to do.

In the past few weeks, Đán has stepped up his rollerblading game. He has good balance, some confidence, and a bit of fearlessness. He dropped into a halfpipe without using the coping. He jumped over a ramp with a huge gap in the center, which scared the heck out of me. If he missed the landing, I would have to call 911. He picked up new techniques fast. I showed him how to do the T-stop and the power stop from watching YouTube and he could do them in no time. He loved skateparks because of all the adventurous things he could do. Watching him making improvements day after day made me realize how he thrived. He learned everything on his own and he always kept himself challenged.

In contrast, he didn’t do too well in a structured environment. When he was taking ice skating lessons, he was bored out of his mind. He didn’t pay attention to his coach. He made snowballs with his skate and gave them to his classmate instead. His techniques weren’t too good because he didn’t follow the instructions. He just wanted to get them over with. Even though he plays hockey now, he would rather go to a skatepark than an ice rink. Whenever I made him go to the ice rink to practice with us, he would just skate around us to get on our nerves.

Seeing his behavior at the skatepark and the ice rink becomes clear to me why he struggles at school. He is a bright kid who doesn’t like the structure of a classroom. Instead of paying attention to his teachers, he zoned out most of the time. When I asked him about his projects, he had no clue what he was supposed to do. I kept telling him that I wouldn’t be able to help him if he didn’t know the requirements. I can tell he has been trying hard because I warned him that I would ban him from playing video games if he didn’t keep up his grades. Despite his efforts, he seemed to be boxed in.

I wonder if there’s an alternative way for him to learn. Instead of giving him instructions to follow like ice skating lessons, we could provide him a skatepark-like environment to give him the freedom to learn and to explore on his own. The current educational system doesn’t accommodate kids like him.

When I was growing up, I didn’t know any better. I just had to follow the system. There were days I felt like I was in an educational prison. I counted the days until I graduated from high school. Even in college, I looked at the calendar every single day. I didn’t thrive until I finished my undergraduate. I learned design on my own and on the job.

In retrospect, would I need my high school, undergraduate, and graduate degrees for my profession? Hell no, but they are the papers that got me through the doors. I understand their values even if they don’t mean anything to me. I hung my graduate diploma on my wall not because I wanted to show off, but because I worked too damn hard for it and it doesn’t do anything other than taking up space on my wall.

I feel bad seeing Đán being trapped in the system, but until I could find an alternative solution, he just had to go through what I had been through. I would try homeschooling him to give him the freedom he needed, but I have to put food on the table for all of us.

Tôi không rành về thơ nên khi đọc thơ tôi không nhận xét được những kỹ thuật hoặc những cách vần trong thơ. Do đó tôi chỉ dùng đến cảm nhận của mình khi đọc những bài thơ. Khi bắt đầu đọc tập thơ The Secret of Hoa Sen của chị Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai, tôi đọc luôn bài dịch của Bruce Weigl. Tôi nhận ra rằng mình cần đọc tiếng Anh để hiểu tiếng Việt. Chẳng hạn như bài thơ đầu, “Gian bếp của mẹ” có câu:

Mẹ nhấc đũa lên, quấy nắng vào nồi cơm đang sôi
Vạt áo mẹ đẫm hương thơm của mùa gặt mới

Tôi nhận ra cách chơi chữ của chị sau khi đọc lời Anh nên tôi quyết định không đọc lời Anh nữa mà chỉ tập trung vào lời Việt. Tập thơ của chị Quế Mai gồm nhiều đề tài khác nhau. Dù viết về tình cha hay tình mẹ, miền Tây hay miền Bắc, Bangladesh hay Philippines, chiến tranh hay hòa bình, những bài thơ của chị đều đầy lòng trắc ẩn (compassion). Chẳng hạn như bài “Sự sợ hãi” đã nói lên bao nhiêu tâm trạng của cho cha mẹ trên thế giới luôn cả nước Mỹ:

Khi tôi ngắm con tôi trôi vào giấc ngủ
ở nước Mỹ
một bà mẹ lấp đầy trái tim mình bằng khuôn mặt đẫm máu của thiên thần lên hai đứa con trai
đã bị một kẻ điên nã súng ở trường học

Xin chia sẻ thêm một bài rất giản dị nhưng rất đẹp viết về “Cỏ”:

Những thân cỏ mềm bị phạt ngang
Mùi hương ứa đầy không khí
Không có gì thơm hơn vết thương loài cỏ

Hương cỏ ngả em xuống tình yêu
Mặt đất hằn đầy lồi lõm Cỏ mịn màng xanh lên phẳng lặng

Em tan trong màu anh
Màu không lời
của
cỏ

Tôi muốn giới thiệu tập thơ này đến những trái tim và tâm hồn Việt, nhất là những tuổi trẻ muốn học thêm tiếng Việt. Nếu như không hiểu thì có thể đọc lời Anh. Tôi chắc chắn sẽ đọc lại tập thơ này và sẽ đọc chậm hơn khi có dịp đi nghỉ mát.

Đạo took his Freestyle 1 test tonight. He did well on the pivot, backward edges, half flip, and waltz jump. He didn’t do too well on two-foot spin and arabesque. I was surprised that he pulled it off with not much practice. If he would spend more time practicing, he could be a great figure skater. I am not sure if he would like to continue to Freestyle 2 or he should just focus on ice hockey.

He started learning to play hockey two weeks ago and he really liked it. His figure skating lessons helped him tremendously in making the transition from figure to hockey. I am not sure if hockey is a bit too aggressive for him. He seems a bit reserved when they played the game, but he enjoyed it.

Đán is more of the hockey type. He has the speed and he is not afraid to attack. He still needs to work on his hockey skills, particularly on controlling the puck with his stick. Once he got that down, he would be a top player. I might sign him up for private lessons to work on his shooting and controlling skills.

Đán excels at rollerskating at the skate parks. His fearlessness is taking him far. He can jump and drop into the bowls with ease. He can also ride the sides of the bowl. He has definitely surpassed me. I ordered a pair of USD Transformer for him for his birthday. It’s an aggressive skate for kids. I can’t wait to see what he can do with it.

We had been hitting the skate park almost everyday now because of Xuân. He is stepping up his game with his scooter. He can drop the from the quarter pipe and higher curved ramp as well. He dropped into the bowl too. At school, he drew a picture of me and him at the skate park. I love that drawing even though I have a bald head, fat figure, and two stick arms. The rollerblade looked good though.

The more Xuân is interested in skate park, the less he is interested in the ice rink. He doesn’t want to practice and he doesn’t want to take lessons either. We won’t continue him on the next level.

As for me, I wanted to learn so much. My days have revolved around skating. At work I would eat lunch quickly and hit the skate park for forty five minutes. At home, I try to find time to get to the ice rink when the kids and I aren’t at the skate park. I am learning to pump to get myself out of the bowl or the half pipe. Technically, I should have learned how to pump first before I learned how to drop in, but I did it in reverse. Now I need to learn how to pump and how to ride the pipe.

For ice skating, I have learned all the techniques for Freestyle 2. I am still struggling with the one-foot spin because I get dizzy any more than three revolutions. I will required to do six for the test. Because how terrible my spins are, I don’t think I will advance to Freestyle 3 after this. I’ll learn on my own and focus more on the jumps.

As the winter coming, the kids are already geared up for skiing. We rented seasonal skis for Đạo and Xuân and snowboard for Đán because he wanted to try snowboarding. They ran out of rentals for adults; therefore, I am still trying to buy used ski or snowboard. I am leaning toward snowboarding as well.

Poor little Vương will be spending time with his mom instead. He doesn’t want to do anything yet. I am trying to get him try the scooter like Xuân. He seems to like it. He is still too young. He still has plenty of time to try later. I just feel bad that I don’t get to take him out much with the rest of his brothers.

I picked up this book based on the author’s last name—Phạm. I didn’t know anything about her, but I wanted to hear more Vietnamese-American voices in the literary world. It didn’t take long for me to follow her lead. She took me deep into her world where art, sex, and everything else in between. She writes with raw emotion and fearless honesty. I love the intimate details in her personal life. I wish I knew more about art to appreciate her insightful criticisms. I am so glad that I have read this book and looking forward to reading more of her works in the future.

Here’s an excerpt Phạm writes about her family:

The trouble with leaving somewhere is that it means arriving, eventually, to some other place. No matter how far or long you go, eventually you’ll arrive somewhere where you need to refigure yourself. My father had done it, leaving his home in Vietnam to attend a university overseas, before war broke out again in earnest and he learned he wouldn’t be able to return home for decades. My mother’s family had done it, as refugees, airlifted out just after the fall of Saigon in April of 1975. Through a string of refugee camps, first in the Philippines, then Arkansas, she’d come to Portland, Oregon, where she met my father. And then they had me. A product of this political displacement, I’ve always been in this space of refiguring. I’ve never really felt I had a home, only places I’ve lived. I’ve always been aware of what my existence means, that my presence here-wherever here might be—is the result of an absence somewhere else.

I started hearing an unusual grinding sound coming from my 2011 Toyota Sienna engine about six months ago. It was irritating, but I couldn’t figure out where exactly the noise was coming from. I ignored it by playing loud music. The noise had increased recently and I suspect it was from the alternator.

On Monday I took our minivan to Ourisman Toyota, which is close to our house, for an oil change. Because our minivan hit 150,000 miles, I suspect they were going to give me a list of recommendations, but they didn’t. They just changed the oil. I informed the advisor about the noise and he said they had to diagnose it for $160 in order to find out what went wrong. Although I didn’t want to do the diagnostic, the technician noted the noise was coming from the water pump.

I knew I had an issue on hand and it would cost a fortune to fix, but I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t want to take it to Phạm’s Auto Care Center because their price would be closed to the dealership. Then I remembered Merrifield Citgo an acquaintance recommended for good service and fair price.

I dropped off my minivan. The service advisor seemed nice. He told me that they would charge $50 to diagnose the problem. He confirmed that the water pump and the drive belt needed to be replaced. The cost was $750.

I checked back my record and discovered that the alternator was replaced in 2018 for $700. I wonder if C&G Specialty Auto Repair and Auto Body didn’t do a good job on it that caused the grinding.

The cost for fixing and maintaining these cars are incredibly pricey. I despise owning cars. I wish I could do away with them. I have been thinking about Tesla simply for the low cost of maintenance. Someone once told me that when there’s an issue with an electric car, you simply reset the computer. If that’s true, I am all for it.

Nevertheless, here’s the breakdown of the cost from Merrifield Citgo:

• Water pump ($184)
• Anti-freeze coolant ($40)
• Drive belt ($18)
• Labor ($396)

The final cost is $716

I was roped into the intermediate maintenance package from Priority Toyota. It concluded the following services:

• Change engine oil, up to 5 quarts, and filter
• Add BE Advanced Formula MOA Oil Treatment
• Rotate tires, adjust tire pressure and check tire wear
• Replace engine air filter
• Replace cabin air filter
• Treat HVAC with BG Frigi Fresh
• 4-wheel brake inspection and measurement Top off under hood fluids
• Perform multi-point vehicle inspection
• Review maintenance action plan

The cost was $160, which was reasonable. Then they recommended:

• 4 new tires ($1,000)
• Replace windshield wiper blades ($65)
• Brake fluid service ($145)
• Mass air flow sensor service ($80)
• Throttle body service ($115)
• Evap service ($97)

So they recommended $1,502 worth of services. My wife bought the wiper blades from Costco and I replaced them in 10 minutes. I am not sure if the rest of the recommended services are necessary, therefore, I refused them for now.

I hardly use Facebook these days, but I have not deactivated or deleted my account. I logged in once in a while to catch up on friends and family members. I also checked Facebook to see if there were any death announcements. I wanted to share the pain and the grief.

Then there was a friend-request pending. I don’t know the man. I never met him, but I heard a lot about him. He used to own a car garage and my sister befriended him. Even when he closed up shop and retired, he still fixed her car. He even helped her fix things around her house like unclogging her sink, replacing her toilet flush or changing light bulbs. He was the handyman that she needed.

My mother spoke highly of him. She said he was kind and generous. She told me he had a good heart. Whenever I visited my mom, she always asked me to buy chả lụa or bánh bột lọc so she could gift him and his family. I hadn’t had a chance to meet him, but I had tremendous respect for him through what my mom was telling me.

One day he came by to fix my sister’s car. They worked on the car in the street parking out and neither of them wore a mask. Later that evening he fell ill. A few days later my sister fell ill. A few weeks later my mom passed away after her fierce battle with Covid.

In retrospect, the entire situation could have been avoided. She didn’t have to end up that way. I didn’t want to accept it, but she did. Even at near the end of her life, my mother never blamed him or my sister for spreading the deadly virus to her. Even as she was getting worse, she still asked if they were getting better. Her unconditional love for her daughter and others was what I remembered the most in those painful moments.

After several weeks, I finally accepted his friend request. I hold nothing against him or my sister. They were also the victims of the global pandemic. During the lockdown, I could not have imagined how close it would hit home. Cases were up, hospitals were packed, and people were dying, but everything felt so far away. Then it struck the person I loved the most and nothing I could do about it. It gave me a different perspective on the space between life and death. It is much closer than I thought.