My grandparents on my fatherís side are two elderly, pleasant people. My paternal grandfather was the Principal of a Primary School in Hanoi, the Capital of Vietnam. He often told me stories such as: Snow White, Cindrella... and other Vietnamese fairytales as well as  well-known fairytales translated from foreign languages. Sometimes he took me to Van Mieu to teach me about life. Van  Mieu is a special place to honour famous Vietnamese scholars, the place where people can meet to talk about poetry and literature in the old days. It has a huge garden surrounded by a brick fence. There is large very green grass and tall and strong trees. There is also a gazebo like structure with just a roof and rectangular in shape around which people walk. Scattered in straight lines are large stone tortoises as well as tall stone slabs upon which are engraved details about famous scholars from various dynasties.

When I was five, he taught me to count, to read and write alphabetical letters and gave me French lessons.

My grandmother was a beautiful lady. She was very good at cooking. She always gave me tasty, delicious food when my parents took me to visit her house. She showed me how to cut ornamental turnip slices for all ingredients of a family party. Not only was she a good cook but also she was a skillful hand in sewing and embroidery. She showed me how to make a cloth for my doll as well.

She was an excellent organizer and coordinator for all  special occasions in our great family. Especially in our traditional Tet Holidays. She bought a great peach flower tree and a small orange fruit tree to put in a large living room. Then she had the wall and ceiling in the house painted and the floor cleaned. We all had dinner together on the Eve of a lunar new year. Our family had the chance to meet each other and enjoy a good time together.

During my childhood I lived closely with my grandmother on my motherís side. My grandfather had passed away before I was born. My grandmother was a primary school teacher. She was a very kind and tender lady. A number of her students have had a good relationship with my family. My maternal grandmotherís life was a little harder than my paternal  grandparents. She had to work as a teacher at Primary School and to bring up my mother, my uncles and my aunts  almost by herself. She always helped our neighbour and people living around our house. She was respected by our neighbours because she gave them good advice and help.

She took me to the park to play. On the first and the fifteenth of a month, she took me to the Pagoda to worship. At that time I knew nothing about Buddha and Buddhism but I liked to go with her because the surroundings of Pagoda were clean and full of flowers and good smells. After the worship a little animal or person made of edible sticky rice powder was given to me and I was praised for being a good girl.

I had a happy and peaceful life until I was about six. The following years were another period in my childhood as it was in  war time.

About 1964, one day my father returned home from his workplace. He called my mother and talked to her quietly about something. My mother listened, said nothing but sighed deeply. Some days later he packed his clothes and some personal belongings into a sack. Then he spoke to me gently without laugh: ë you are going to school this year. You are a grown-up girl now. I might have go to the South for sometime so be a good girl and helpful to mum.í My heart seemed not to beat for a while and I felt something that is not clear, something that was nameless sorrow but a little pride in it. I could not say anything but nodded. My father went out.

About 1965 almost all children in my street had evacuated to the countryside. I was in a village where my paternal ancestors were born with my grandparents. We lived in my relatives house. It is a two-storey house which has a yard in front and on the right of it for drying the paddy. On the left there is a garden on which three grape-fruit trees, a lemon tree, vegetables and a rose tree are grown. That garden spreads out in front of the yard until it meets a large overground tank that is used for the storage of rain water. There is a tall, large flower tree near the tank. Its shade covers over the tank and part of the right yard. Behind the tank, there is a cottage which is divided in to three parts: one for cooking, one for unhusking rice, one for my relatives daughter-in-law. Behind the cottage is a place for buffalo, pigs, chickens or ducks or goose and a lot of bananas trees are planted. There is a pathway which  connects the right yard to the front door.

Almost every weekend  I was permitted to return to my house in Hanoi with my parents. I went to grade 1 class on five weekday mornings. In the afternoon we stayed home to play or went out to the field and around the village or got water from a well near the house or went to the river side to play under water for sometime. On harvesting season we were responsible for taking care of  the paddy dried on the yard from birds and sudden rains.

My grandparents cooked meal for us. Sometimes the triangle sounded and the people in the village were saying  something about American airplanes.

At the beginning of the new school year for my grade 2 class, my grandfather and I joined other people in the village in digging trenches connecting my classroom to various shelters scattered around which were also built by joining people and children in the village. We enhanced the classroom wall by setting mounds against walls.

One day during my schooltime a  drastic whizz burst out then came the echos of airplane. We all stood up. Some benches were fallen out. My teacher spoke loudly:í Keep calm my kids. You all go along trenches to the sheltersí. We all rushed out to and along four trenches then sat in shelters. The bombard lasted for sometime, the earth shook a little under my feet and bottom, then came a long silence. I felt as if I were unconscious. The familiar but loud voice of my teacher sounded:í My kids, donít tremble any more. Itís over now. You can get out of the shelters now.í My breath eased a little then I went out of the shelter. A sudden brightness made my eyes blink. When I opened my eyes a blue sky and sunshine appeared. Then the sound of my classmates came to my ears. I took a deep breath then we all joined together towards my classroom. But the lesson couldnít  be continued. We were talking to each other and to my teacher. We were all allowed to come back home to the village.

On my way home I met my grandfather. He took my little hand and we walked home in silence. Lunch was ready but I could eat little. My relative came home from the rice field and told me that I could go to the garden to pick up a grape-fruit or anything I liked. He took me to the garden and comforted me. I had a grape-fruit that I liked and I could run around the garden and pick up flowers of vegetables, which I was interested to do but was not allowed before. We all had dinner together on that day. I could regain sense at last.

The next morning I was awoken up by a bird. A new day starts.
 
 

Mai (1996)