Answering the question ‘where are you from?’ is not as straightforward
as it could be. My answer of ‘South London’, ‘Clapham’ or ‘Streatham’ is often
met with ‘but…your family’ or ‘I mean originally…’
Well here goes Part 1...
Vietnam, the Land of
Opium and Glory
My paternal family’s settlement in Vietnam can be traced
back to the late 19th/early 20th century being my Great Grandfather’s doing.
The story I often heard as a child was of 2 brothers with nothing but 3 pairs
of trousers between them, eventually settling across the border and raising
families in Vietnam having exhausted all opportunities in their native China to
no avail. Another more detailed version of the story told to me more recently
was that the significant ‘opportunity’ was in fact smuggling opium from China
to Vietnam which culminated in enough funds for agricultural land to settle on.
As is the case with my family, many of the Chinese in Vietnam belonged to the
Hakka group of people (客家人,
translates directly as ‘guest
people’);
nomadic by nature so for whom movement and re-settlement was fairly common.
Broken Families
Following the fall of Saigon in 1975 marking the end of the
Vietnam War relations between Vietnam and China became strained, this along
with the new communist government’s
treatment of Hoa people (越南華人/越南华人/ethnic
Chinese in Vietnam) led to the majority of Hoa people fleeing Vietnam from 1978
onwards. This was all the while native Vietnamese were already leaving the
South following the end of the war in 1975. The plan at the time was to simply
to settle in China, crossing the border by footbridge from Mong Cai, into Dong
Xing, China; from there spreading into nearby towns in and around the Guang Xi
region and integrating back into Chinese society.
Families were already being split and torn from the moment
people started fleeing Vietnam. My maternal Granddad left Vietnam pretty
swiftly taking my frail Great Grandmother across the border into China first.
Granddad instructed his 8 children that for whomever the opportunity arose they
would each take their own journey separately. Granddad’s thinking behind
separating the family though not obvious to most was quite simple; fraught with
danger and the chance that not every journey would be successful, the thought
of a single failed journey for the entire family was unfathomable. Mum’s two
older brothers soon followed, with their wives and young families.
For Mum, 21 at this stage and unmarried her opportunity came
in leaving with Dad’s family. Following what we’d now refer to as a ‘shotgun
wedding’, she left her own family behind to start a new life in China. A future
laced with questions rather than answers, anxiety rather than excitement,
uncertainty rather than security; far from the wedded bliss that young dreams
are made of.
Not So Fine China
It quickly became clear that settling in China for any
sustained period was impossible, realising much of the same struggles that led
to the ethnic Chinese leaving for Vietnam in the first place. China in the
1970s wasn’t the developed super power we recognise today. Already a low
standard of living with the lack of opportunities, resources and housing this
would only be compounded by influx of refugees from Vietnam in what would’ve
been in the tens of thousands.
Attention quickly turned to saving in order to fund an
onward journey; an onward journey that was never in the script when leaving
Vietnam originally and for which the final destination was still unknown.
To the Boats
For my family at least, the onward several week-long journey
would see them leaving China by boat, on to Hong Kong where it had been
reported that refugees were being received following successful voyages
directly from Vietnam. Though venturing on to what is technically foreign land,
Hong Kong as a destination made a lot of sense. A shared language in Cantonese
meant that communication would be less of an issue so pleading for refuge would
be that much easier; that is of course assuming the journey by sea were to be
successful, not all of them were. Far from straightforward, even the successful
voyages would have been met with close encounters Hong Kong being predominantly
ethnic Chinese in population, the cultural parallels would’ve seemed a less
daunting proposition. Whilst at the time being under British rule there was
also the dangled carrot of a potential new life in the West.
My maternal Granddad worked on the water, was well travelled
and well connected through his work as a food distributer. When it came to the
scramble to flee to Hong Kong, he was very much a go-to figure and facilitated
many families’ journeys away from China. Fortunately for my family, being ‘boat
people’ (before ‘boat people’ became a thing) made not only securing spaces on
boats that little bit easier but the experience and knowhow in operating boats
proved useful also. In fact the boat my family travelled to Hong Kong on was
under the stewardship of none other than my Mum.
Thousands of these small, basic and overcrowded boats sailed
from Vietnam and China and unsurprisingly they weren’t all successful voyages.
For many that boat journey will have been their first time on a boat; for the
least fortunate it’d prove to be their last. The boats were poorly equipped and
many under totally unqualified and inexperienced stewardship. Some boats will have
been overcome by storms, others falling victims to pirates; families were
broken and some wiped out entirely in an instant.
Refugee Camps
I’ve heard a number of differing accounts about the camps in
Hong Kong. By my Mum’s own admission, in hindsight the camp they were housed in
was actually fairly pleasant having later compared stories and experiences with
others. It was smaller than the other camps and in contrast to the experiences
of those housed in larger ones, they were treated well given the circumstances
and were adequately nourished.
The dorms were shared, opened in the evening and locked
again in the morning at strictly set times. Mum would have been held in Hong
Kong at the same time as her some of her siblings, yet being housed in separate
facilities meant that they couldn’t see each other.
It wasn’t freedom, it wasn’t even living but they were kept
alive. No-one knew how long they were to be housed in the camps. The hope would
have been weeks perhaps, the expectation was possibly months and the fear was
years or never leaving at all.
Ending the
Uncertainty
The option of integrating into Hong Kong and settling there
was never in the offing. In the midst of what was a humanitarian crisis, the
hopes and dreams of tens of thousands quickly turned to foreign lands. One
thing I was surprised to learn was that people were given options and had some
say in the matter of where they might ultimately start their new lives. America
had already taken in thousands of Vietnamese refugees, those who originally
fled the south from 1975. It was the first choice for 99% of people held in the
camps. Little was known about anywhere else. Besides being cold and the English
eating potatoes, nothing at all was known about England. Refugees were shown
videos of the various countries accepting refugees and decisions were being
made based on these brief and probably not entirely accurate clips (I would
love to get my hands on some of these videos).
Many in fact turned down the chance to go to England in the
hope that onward travel to America would materialise. My parents decision to pursue
settlement in England ultimately came down to their desire to finally put an
end to what felt like never-ending uncertainty that had marked their lives.
Uncertainty over how long they were to continue surrendering their freedom
within the camps. Uncertainty over whether they’d be sent back to China (if
they were believed to have fled from there rather than Vietnam) or sent back
Vietnam for repatriation and re-education which was also an outcome for many
ethnic Vietnamese despite having reached Hong Kong. Uncertainty over whether
they’d ever get to lead normal lives at all.
England offered that certainty. A small but significant step
in re-gaining some control over their lives that must’ve felt at the time to be
at the mercy of others. Though many unknown challenges would undoubtedly be
thrown their way no doubt fraught with curiosity, fear and excitement in equal
measure; they’d be given a chance of freedom, a chance at life. Onwards to
King’s Lynn…
Realisation,
Reflection, Responsibility
It wasn’t until my late teen/early adult years I became
curious about this journey my parents’ and grandparents’ generations endured.
As I started piecing the timelines and various stories together it dawned on me
the enormity of what happened. Broken families, the risks, the sacrifices,
impacts on the communities where the refugees eventually settled and seemingly
more notable now, people’s mental welfare. What are the lasting impacts for
those who lived through witnessing the failed sea voyages, the deaths,
robberies and rapes at the hands of pirates? This was a truly monumental
humanitarian crisis; the ripple effect from which is still being felt today.
The more interested I became the more things started to make sense.
Once you truly understand the hardship and the loss suffered
it’s difficult not to feel immeasurable sympathy and pain. We were often told
growing up that we take so much for granted, but I never felt the weight of
those words until now, knowing what now know. I have genuine admiration and
pride for what my family and our people endured to give us, the next generation
a chance at the fruitful lives we’re all now realising. Responsibility comes in
not forgetting. Responsibility comes in continuing to tell the stories of our
journeys. Responsibility comes in instilling pride in all that our families and
our people have overcome to achieve.
More Responsibility
I’m not totally happy with my writing of this piece, but the
responsibility I feel massively outweighs my own vanity and as such has
determined the timing of its delivery to this moment. This episode is the very
reason for me starting PPPI in the first place. Despite being episode 4 it’s
the first I started writing back in early 2019, long before Covid-19 and
certainly before hands were forced for #StopAsianHate to become a movement.
2020 was a year that shone the brightest of bright lights on
Chinese people. Never have we had our culture and our values attacked in the
way we’ve seen since Covid-19. That light has carried with it all Asians the
world over, not just the Chinese. We’ve seen loss of lives, damaged livelihoods
and undoubted pain endured in the past year, both directly from the virus and
indirectly from the hate that has been given a platform from which to grow; as
blasphemous as it may sound I am thankful for that light. That light has
instilled pride in Asians where pride previously had been repressed. That
light, instead of resentment and misunderstanding has triggered in its place
curiosity in the minds of young Asians towards their own heritage. That light
has given a powerful voice to a unity amongst Asians that until now has only
been allowed to exist in silence.
Our responsibility now lies in continuing the courage to
stand strong and stand proud, continuing to make our voices heard and
continuing to be united long after this light ceases to shine. #StopAsianHate,
share more love and tell more stories.
Soundtrack to this
Episode
JJ Lin – 她說
(Album)
高爾宣 OSN
- #OSNrap (Album)
E.So – 靈魂出竅
Outta Body (Album)
Vicky Chen – I Am Who I Am (Album)
Shirley Chen – 绿色
Shirley Chen - 你的酒馆对我打了烊
AGA – Mad
Kendrick Lamar –good kid, m.A.A.d city (Album)
Various - Strictly the Best Vol. 60 (Compilation)
"Claim
PPPI"
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Any thoughts or feelings on the above? Apologies if you came
seeking actual PPI advice...
Let me know what you think in the comments below.
