MAI
Lost Generation June 30, 2018 Fresno, California Vol. 6 – This zine consisted of stories from Hmong and Lao elders.
TABLE OF CONTENT Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 6 Page 9 Page 10 Page 13 Page 14
Dedication Khamsan Savatdy Maiv Tswb Macy Yaj Paj Kub Lis Steven Vaj Yeeb Lis Contributors About & Acknowlegement
DEDICATIONS Collecting these stories from the Southeast Asian elders has been the most invigorating experience for me. In one sense, I feel guilty because I wish I or someone had done this earlier for the elders living in Fresno. My interviewees struggled with dates and remembering most events from the war and living in the refugee camps, and they expressed their sorrows of not remembering. However, the little memories they had to share exuded the beauty and hardships of each individual migratory struggle. I was able to live vicariously through their experiences as it connected to my own family's similar background, identity, and struggles. One commonality was their dreams of arriving America for a better life only to find that achieving the American Dream was harder than imagined--this very much had to do with language barriers and cultural differences. Nonetheless, it is through these shared struggles and cultural identity that makes me feel even closer to my community. Working on this edition was dear to my heart, and I hope future generations continue to inquire and share the narratives of our people so that these voices and stories are not forever lost. - Debbie Sayachack I want to thank Debbie Sayachack for organizing the collection of these stories and Keng Vang for interviewing and translating the stories from the elders. This collection could not have been possible without the two of you. Also, this collection of stories is for you, my friend Debbie, for sharing with me that there is a community of stories we should not forget about. - See Xiong
2
Khamsan Savatdy (Joe Savatdy) Told by Khamsan Savatdy, translated by Debbie Sayachack Coming to America was challenging but it was a hopeful dream for my family. I was already married in Laos and had four daughters. For me, going to America I believed that our lives would change, since I knew that we would continue to struggle living in Laos. I worked in the rice fields to support my family, and my heart ached because I knew there was more out there in this world. When the war broke out, I fought on the American side against the Lao Deng. I was in Hanoi for six months. I took my family to a refugee camp and we stayed there for four years. It was rough because I felt helpless. For each meal, they gave us five bowls twice a day for each member of my family. At times, my daughters were still hungry from the little food the camp provided, so I would give them my portion. I was extremely happy and content to find out that we were finally leaving the camp and going to America. We first arrived in Sacramento and lived there for eight years and moved to Fresno since we had family here. It was a huge change because I felt like Fresno was more reminiscent of Laos. The agriculture of this city reminds me of home. Being in Summerset Apartments reminds me of Laos. I lived on Sixth Street for 10 years and it was the same thing. There were other Lao people in both areas, and it felt like home because of the communal aspect. We shared jokes, music, stories, and attended each other’s gathering. In Fresno, it is easy to go to the doctor and have an understanding because there are doctors and workers who speak my language. They give me American medicine and really, I don’t know what it is for but trust the medical center. I prefer Lao medicine but make do with what I am offered. Even though I know I am doing much better than the people back in Laos, I still struggle living in this new country. For 2 to 3 years, I tried learning English, but it was so hard, and I was confused. I can say some words but cannot formulate sentences. My English is broken. When I go to the American store to buy lotion or shampoo, I cannot say it in English. I just do hand motions to the workers and they somehow understand me. They show me a product and I nod, and say, “Thank you.” A challenge for me living is in Fresno is the fact that I still struggle financially. I do not speak the language and I cannot work. I think about life and try to be humble with the little that I have. However, I believe in my soul and of praying and being thankful for what I have. Even though I have been in this country for almost 40 years, I still feel out of place because I can never fully be a part of society because of the language and the culture. 3
Maiv Tswb Macy Yaj Told by Maiv Tswb Macy Yaj, translated by Keng Vang My siblings and I came from Naj Hiab, Laos to Toom Npuas. When we came from Laos we came by only foot. There was no airplane for us. It took us two months to get to Thailand. We lived at Toom Npuas for two years until we moved to Khej 1 in Nam Yao. We were the orphans with no parents, so we were raised by our grandparents. Grandmother and grandfather took care of seven of us. But one got married so there were six orphans left. Our grandparents came to the United States, and I was denied coming to this country with them. When they left Thailand, they assigned me as the leader to our group of orphans. Then our uncle sponsored us to Long Beach in California. My father passed away when my mother was still pregnant with me. I did not get to see my father. My parents lived in the Xuv Mim village, which was haunted by ghosts and tigers. My father went hunting with my grandfather’s gun and was fatally attached to death by a tiger. When my father died, his rotten body was buried without proper funeral. My mother gave birth to me and left to get remarried. I was six months old when she remarried. I was still very small, and I didn’t get any milk. My grandparents didn’t allow me to go with my mother to go live with her and her new family. She left me and my two brothers with my grandparents. My mother got remarried to a Hmong man from the Thao clan and she had more children. When we applied for asylum we came by ourselves. When we were applying for asylum I didn’t know what to do so I cried and cried because I was denied coming here. Whatever they did they couldn’t provide comfort, so they said, “You are crying too much so we’ll fingerprint you and you can go.” That’s how I got the other orphans to come with me. Then we arrived in Phanat there were so many people, but we were able to come to the United States in two weeks. When we got to Bangkok, we stayed there for a week. Other people’s wives were very sick, so they asked me to switch as their wives. I told them, “I can’t. I am an orphan. I can’t do that to you guys. Taking me to switch as your wives to do lab work is very wrong.” They said, “how about we pay you 10,000 baht.” After I finished lab work today they asked me again, but I told them, “I can’t anymore. I can’t help you guys because I am taking these five orphans to the United States.” We are very unfortunate orphans who no one helps. We came on October 27th, 1979. We came long 4
ago. At the time, I was about 12 or 13 years old, so they changed my age to 22 years old. Then they applied asylum for me. They just bumped up my aged so that I can to come here. We lived in Long Beach for two years then we came to live up here. No one cares about us, so it’s very sad. We don’t have cars and coming here I didn’t know how to take the bus. I didn’t know how to take the bus, so I didn’t get to go to school. In 1982, they took me to apply for benefits. The benefits were small. Only five hundred. Didn’t receive much. They slowly raised little by little. Then I went to live in San Diego. I went to start a life in San Diego and gave birth to my two sons. My oldest son is a pastor and my daughter in-law is a teacher. The city of Fresno makes me very uncomfortable. Also, this city is too hot. They said this city have the biggest companies and is the best place to live. We went farming every day, to do labor, and picked beans. We lived poorly so we had to make a living. I lived by myself like that. I was very stressful because I didn’t have anyone to support me. I didn’t have anyone, so I called the people I lived with as my sisters. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have children living with me, so I was very sad. I am not very smart and don’t know how to drive. I only know how to take the bus to go to places. For example, going to the mall, to the store called Macy. I stay home, listen to the radio, and tell stories. I tell stories about my life and about my parents to ease my heart.
5
Paj Kub Lis Told by Paj Kub Lis, translated by Keng Vang It took us eigh days and eight nights to get from Laos to Thailand. We used up eight flashlights and only carried a knife and no guns. There was 38 of us. The women’s feet were very swollen. It was very unfortunate. As we were coming, when we got very hungry with no water, we would use our saliva as water with rice for three days and three nights. We came to live in Thailand and was placed in Nam Yao in March when the corn was very ripe. We were placed up by the cemeteries. In this country they are very scared of cemeteries but for us the cemeteries are right next to us. There were lots of people living like that. At that time, the camp Khej 5 and Khej 6 were combined. We were young girls and I remember those times like a dream. We lived like that for a while then the Thai people moved us to Poov Nquab camp. It was hard for us to apply for asylum. We had to write a letter, the size of an index card, and then Pob Tsuas would come get it. After they finish reading it, they will write one back to us. It took 3 months until we were able to apply for asylum and then they sent us food. In March, when the rice field shines beautifully and is ready to harvest, they took us to Phanat. We lived there for a year and a half before we were sponsored to migrat to Long Beach, California. Coming her to America was very difficult. The main reason why it was difficult was that we were not educated, we did not know the language, and we did not know how to drive so it was hard for us to get around. If we go to one place it takes us the whole day to get back home. We didn’t know anything. However, the positive side of being old is receiving benefits to help pay for housing, which is not stressful. But the challenge is not knowing English, which makes my world dark. It seems as if Americans ridicule us when we go out because we don’t know English. I have experienced a couple times where I have been dropped off at the wrong places a couple times. So, it is very hard not knowing English. You cannot find food if you don’t know the language. It is sad that we don’t know the food here, so we can’t find the food that we like to eat. It is only in this country. Even if you write it on paper for us we would not be able to find it and it stresses us out. If you know English, you can help yourself. For instance, when you visit the doctor you can say, “You can’t do that to me. I understand you. Don’t do that to me. I know. You can’t do that to me.” 6
The important reason to know the language is to help yourself. Also, when you see events going on you can ask what is happening. I learned English for three months and I barely learned how to ask why they are taking the sick person. I am saddened that as a person that is the only thing I have learned to communicate in English. You ask them, “What’s the race of the person in your ambulance?” They reply, “The old man is very weak.” Then you know who they are taking. I barely learned this, and I am just sad. It makes me cry knowing that just like knowing how to say “nkwg”, as a baby, I barely know how to ask this. It is very sad. A long time ago, when we were going to school I had a sister who told me, “sister Paj Kub, why do my children shout, ‘Why don’t that old man die’? It sounds very nice. What does it mean?” In Hmong, I said to her, “Sister, it means ‘Old man why won’t you die. You keep yelling at us.’” My sister asked, “oh, sister Paj Kub, how do you know if they really said that? I don’t know but when I heard that phrase it sounds very nice.” After that, we got educated at the Fresno Interdenominational Refugee Ministries for a month and then some of us didn’t want to go anymore because we were learning through books only. It is also sad that when it comes to voting everyone goes but as for me I don’t know. They know so they fill out the ballot fast, but I don’t know so I just stare at the ballot for a long time. I get very emotional. I have some sung poems in the radio. They are also currently on the internet. There are people who call me about them. The important thing I tell them is, “If I recite them, you all will be very sad.” I recite many kinds of song poetry. I sing about deceased parents leaving children behind, but I change it so that it won’t be about the deceased. I sing that the parents are just leaving to start a new life as a daughter in-law and they didn’t take you with them so it’s very hard for you. Because of that I get lots of calls. Many people know me 7
by my name as Paj Xyoob Lis and that’s the name to call to ask for me. When you live poorly and have been in a relationship that didn’t last, you combined them and use it to sing poetry. I have been through a lot. When people hear my song poetry, they ask me about my creativity and style, but my parents aren’t here anymore so that’s how I sing my poetry. Many of my song poems like that are out there.
8
Steven Vaj Told by Steven Vaj, translated by Keng Vang I lived in Nom Khai Refugee Camp for four months, then I transferred to Na Pho Refugee Camp in September of 1983. From there I registered to go to Phanat Nikhom. I was in Phanat Nikhom for two to three months until I came to America in 1986. When we applied for asylum, you have say where you are going and which state. I said, “To California. Fresno only.” Then that was it. Living in Thailand, I was very poor, there was no income to buy food. There was no one who sent us money to use. I worked for the Thais and earned 2000 Bahts only. I gave that to my parents to use. Back then, Thais were very mean to the Hmong and the Laotians. I came to live in Fresno for a long time now. I came to America to live in Fresno and nowhere else. I came to Fresno because I had an American sponsor in Clovis. They sponsored us to Fresno. Back then I wasn’t married yet and I lived with my parents. We lived in the apartments on Belmont and Thomas. I lived here for a while before meeting my wife who came from Thailand. We got married in 2008. Then I moved to Summerset apartments in 2009. In America, we farmed every day, picked beans, picked chilis, and picked other things. After earning money then we will go grocery shopping. The best thing is that Americans help the elderly like us and help fill paperwork for us. I am glad I came to America. I am happy that coming to America has made things easier. When I came to America I began working in 1986 and I didn’t receive benefits yet. In 2005, I retired because I aged. Currently, I help cook for people with disabilities. The most challenging thing is that I don’t have a car, so I only walk. The doctors said that I have trouble with my head, so I am not allowed to drive. The doctors examined my brain and said that I am not functioning well. I am Laotian, but I married a Hmong woman that’s why I know how to speak Hmong. I can speak Laos, Thai, Hmong, and English. I want to help everyone cook if help is needed. When I was living in Laos, I cooked only. I cook Thai dishes, Lao dishes, Chinese dishes, and American dishes. Back then, I went to school ten years for cooking. Thai food has 2000 dishes. Laotian food is very easy. There’s only 1000 dishes. Chinese food has 200 dishes. American food is very easy. Only hamburger. A long time ago, I worked at Fresno State too. I was worked in the cafeteria. I worked 5 hours which was long. I also worked at Fresno City College. 9
Yeeb Lis Told by Yeeb Lis, translated by Keng Vang We left Laos to live in Thailand for a long time. I was in Chiang Kham Refugee Camp for a long time. My Tshia Nag was born in Phanat Nikhom in 1993 where we processed to migrate to the United States. We were denied migration to the United States because my parents lived in France, so the United States would not accept us. The United States proposed that if France denied us, they will accept us. We were sent back to Chiang Kham. We went there so if France will deny us and if they do then the United States will accept us. We settled down there, and France cut our names saying they denied us. The United States finally accepted us. We were ready to come again. In 1993, we were denied once again in Phanat Nikhom and moved to Thamkrabok. We were denied so there weren’t any refugee camps left and no one aided us. Then when Thamkrabok camp closed in 2004, we were acceped to the United States. I was sponsored to Michigan and my family finally came in November 2004. We lived for eight months in Michigan. My younger sister lived in Michigan and she sponsored us and then we moved to Alaska. We stepped foot in Alaska on August 4, 2005. We applied two times. Once in Chiang Kham which was different but when we applied in Thamkrabok they basically just came and said that we are a displaced people and are General Vang Pao’s people who are living in Thamkrabok. They came and put up canopies and registered us. It was similar to the same process a long time ago, but we were taken to strip naked in a car. They told us to take off our pants and shirts in the car and then injected us with shots. The children were taken to get shots in a house that United Nations allowed them to do so. They educated us for a week. We learned about the rules and regulations for boarding a plane and about using a restroom, because they said that half of the people who went before us thought the paper towels in the airplane were candy and ate it. They taught us those things so that we would understand. Then, a bus took us straight to Bangkok then to the United States without any delay. My daughter married my male cousin’s son, so they went to Alaska. They were still young, so they couldn’t sponsor their parents, so they took me from Michigan to Alaska. We went there, and NKEES (public assistant program) pushed us to go to school. We arrived there in 2005 and I suddenly got very ill. In 2006, they put me on benefits and I couldn’t go to school anymore. Then I kept losing my consciousness, so they took me to the hospital. They then put me on SSI. 10
In 2015, I got sicker over there so the doctors examined me and said that the elderly like us cannot live in cold areas. The doctors kept examining me to find out why I kept losing my conscious and they said, “We can’t find anything remarkable. But we believe that the Hmong people are conditioned to living in areas where you guys farm and areas with warm conditions. Living in a place with lots of snow and cold like this, you elders cannot thrive. In this case, are you alright with us sending you to live in a warmer place?” I answered, “Does the warm place have Hmong people?” They told me there are many Hmong people. We are Hmong and we have always lived in areas where it’s warm, so they sent me to Fresno to see if I will get better. I was sent to live here and now I am able to walk. I progressively became better, and now I am living here. I am happy that in American they can examine and diagnose us to know that we’re not fit in a certain place and place us where we’re fit to live. I am happy for this reason. They provided us documentations, money, and housing (Section 8) by downtown. When I got here, they gave a phone number and I called the number to go pick up the housing application and was able to land housing here. When I first got here, it was very hard for me because I did not know how I was going to live, but our people were also living here along with Laotians, which are people from the same place as us, so we all are able to live together. The best thing about coming to America is—even though I am living alone— the government knows that I exist, and they give me SSI benefits to have an income to pay for housing so that I have a home. This is the best thing. The most difficult challenge is not being able to speak English, not knowing how to drive, and not knowing when to pull the handle to get off a bus. A long time ago, I was on the bus and the stop was already directly under the bridge, but I couldn’t pull it in time and was dropped off a little further by the store resulting in me walking back. I am scared that I won’t know how to pull the handle and I might get lost and won’t know how to get back and won’t know how to tell people where I live. When I was denied for housing support, sister Paj Kub took me to downtown. We didn’t know where to go and they pushed us into the elevator. The elevator took us to the second floor. When we got to the front there we didn’t know how to communicate but I remembered one word. We got there and sister Paj Kub spoke her words but the American couldn’t understand so I said, “Kuv thov koj. Wb tsis paub lawm ces koj pab copy ib qho lub tsev luam rau wb kom wb paub mus nrhiav.” 11
The American lady copied a paper with the address of the building for housing support. We took it and people told us, “It’s right there.” Then we knew. I am not smart, so I write on a piece of paper and put on me, so the bus drivers will know where the clinic is, so they can drop me there. The bus driver will say, “You can get off here. Your clinic is here.” Then I will get off and go to the clinic. Even then, I was very scared. If I was able to speak English I will go speak to get work to earn money to make it worth the multiple times we got displaced and were very poor. One of the most important thing is to know English. The second most important is to have the power to hold the key and drive, and that will make me so relieved like they say about reaching paradise. We are in paradise, but we don’t know anything. But even though we don’t know anything, as long as you children know and be our support making our life meaningful.
12
CONTRIBUTORS We thank the contributors, Khamsan Savatdy, Maiv Twsb Macy Yaj, Paj Kub Lis, Steven Vaj, and Yeeb Lis for sharing their stories with us. Debbie Sayachauk organized the gathering of this story with Keng Vang, who interviewed the Hmong contributors. Debbie interviewed our Lao contributor. It is our hope that our elders and their stories are shared and not forgotten. Debbie Sayachack is a Laotian American, born and raised in Fresno received a Bachelor's Degree in English from Fresno State University in 2016. Currently, she is a graduate student studying Rhetoric and Composition at the same university and will be completing her Master's degree by the end of 2018. Debbie has received several scholarships and presented at different conferences throughout the states. She is a member of Sigma Tau Delta English Honor Society and the Pacific Ancient and Modern Language Association. Debbie enjoys learning about different cultures and languages, and she loves to write poetry and prose. Additionally, she enjoys being a mother to her daughter, Kaitlyn, and watching her play softball and basketball. Keng Vang was born in Chiang Kham Refugee Camp, Thailand. His family resettled in the United States in 1994 when he was one year old, not knowing anything. He said he is very lucky to have lived most of his life here but at the same time he feels like he lost the history running in his blood because he didn’t get to live a part of his life through the years of persistence and resilience. However, he is glad that he chose the right path as an Anthropology major. As an undergrad at Fresno State, he interned at Stone Soup as a Cultural Preservation Assistant and with the founder of Hmongstory 40, Lar Yang, to work on The Hmong and the Secret War documentary. Through those internships he had gained knowledge and understanding about the past. He wants to dedicate his work to his younger brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews because he wants them to know that there is so much history living in their blood and he wants them to be proud of who they are. He also plans to further his education and work to learn more about the Hmong history and culture. See Xiong graduated from California State University, Fresno. She was born in Chiang Kham refugee camp and came to the United States as a refugee at the age of 5.
13
ABOUT & ACKNOWLEDGEMENT See Xiong started the MAI zine series, which was born out of the Tamejavi Cultural Organizing Fellowship Project (TCOFP), a project of the Pan Valley Institute of the American Friends Service Committee. This volume was curated by See Xiong and Debbie Sayachauk with support from Keng Vang. Photo cover courtesy of Debbie Sayachack. This volume was made possible by a grant from the University of California’s The Critical Refugee Studies Collective, given by the UC Office of the President and the Multicampus Research Programs and Initiatives (MRPI) grant # MRP-17-454891. More information about the Collective can be found here: criticalrefugeestudies.com Contact Mai Zine: Write: maizineproject@gmail.com Read digital: https://www.issuu.com/maivzine
14