Read Monsoon Online

Authors: Di Morrissey

Monsoon (5 page)

‘Your lives are so enmeshed. Does he assume marriage is inevitable? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with him? With his family?' asked Sandy.

Anna had told Sandy about his large extended family and how Anna felt she was at the bottom of the pecking order. She was expected to cook his favourite Italian dishes and to learn to speak Italian in order to converse with his mother, who spoke little English, and his grandmother, who spoke none at all.

‘I guess I'm considered part of the family. Carlo says marriage should wait until he's hit the big-time. But his father hates the fact that we sort of live together – I'm not pure,' grinned Anna.

‘God, it sounds like the 1950s,' said Sandy. ‘What's your dad say?'

‘He's okay with our living arrangements but I don't mention any future plans. Easier that way.'

Sandy liked Anna's father, Kevin Fine, a down-to-earth Australian and a hard-working garage mechanic who was also a relief taxi driver on weekends. Anna enjoyed her widowed father's company too and made it a habit to spend Friday nights, which was Carlo's boys' night out, with him. She would cook dinner and watch TV, play a game or drag him off to a movie.

As Sandy finished her coffee, Cherie's suggestion started to take hold. If she could persuade Anna to come over and have a decent holiday with her, it would not only be fun, but it might give Anna a breather from Carlo and let her reassess their relationship. Sandy decided to send her a long email.

Initially Anna dismissed Sandy's idea, but Sandy was persuasive, arguing that Anna's visit would help her through a time of transition, of indecision, and surely it would be an interesting experience for her to see and learn something of her mother's homeland.

Anna replied that although her dad approved, she couldn't possibly leave Carlo and he was against the idea.

Sandy was appalled that her friend wouldn't take a holiday because her boyfriend didn't agree. She decided to call Anna's father and talk it over with him.

‘Jeez, it's good to hear your voice, Sandy, love. We miss you round here, but I hear you're going great guns over there.' Kevin was fond of his daughter's best friend. And when Sandy expressed her concerns about Anna's relationship with Carlo, Kevin quickly agreed with her. ‘You're spot on there, Sandy. That Carlo is very foolish. He's spoiled by all the women in his family and expects Anna to fall into line. I reckon it'd be a terrific thing for her to have a proper holiday with you. And frankly, I've always thought she should visit her mother's country.'

‘Do you know anything about her mother's family? Where they came from?' asked Sandy suddenly.

‘Not really. I've got some papers of Thu's. I've been waiting for Anna to show some interest, didn't want to force it on her. But I always thought one day, y'know, when she has kids of her own, she might want to know more.'

Sandy had a fleeting thought that if Anna married Carlo there'd be trips home to Italy, not Vietnam. ‘Listen, Kevin, try to persuade her. Say I need my best friend with me. We'll have fun together.'

‘I bet you two will. I'll try to talk her into it. I've got a bit put by, I'll throw some dollars in the kick as a bit of an early birthday pressie.'

And to Sandy's surprise, Anna finally agreed.

At Sydney Airport Carlo cursed as a parking attendant waved him away from the No Standing zone outside the departures terminal.

‘It's all right, Carlo, just leave me here. You don't have to park and come in. It's chaos,' said Anna, who didn't want him to argue with the parking attendant.

‘Baby, are you joking? You're going away from me for three weeks and you think I'm just going to leave you on the footpath? Never. Get a trolley and I'll park and I'll be with you in a flash.'

‘I can manage my bag. Sandy told me to travel light.' Anna sighed in resignation. ‘I'll see you inside then.' She pulled her bag along behind her and joined the check-in queue. She was at the counter when Carlo joined her and began flirting with the check-in girl looking after Anna.

‘Come on, you can do better than that, a beautiful girl like you. Don't tell me you don't have some pull around here . . . Bev.' He read her name tag and leaned over the counter in front of Anna who shrank back, embarrassed by his obvious cajoling to get her a better seat. ‘This girl is going to Vietnam for the first time,' argued Carlo.

‘Look, the best I can do is the bulkhead seat, give you more leg room.' Bev smiled at Anna.

‘Thank you. That would be lovely.' Anna nudged Carlo as he was about to press for an upgrade.

In an airport cafe Carlo put a coffee in front of Anna and sat next to her. ‘Look, I could have got you into Business. I was just getting warmed up.'

‘It's fine, Carlo, just save the famous Italian charisma for when I really need it.'

‘You gonna miss me, bella?' He picked up her hand and nuzzled her ear. ‘I'll be horny as hell by the time you get back.'

‘Do you good,' she chided. ‘You could do that work at your dad's place he's been asking you to finish for ages. Work off some passion in the yard and shed.'

‘What about you, dream of me at night, eh?' he whispered in her ear.

‘I'll miss you, of course. But Sandy has a lot of trips worked out. I'm starting to get a bit excited,' said Anna, a fact that had just struck her now she was actually on her way. She wished Carlo had let her dad bring her out to the airport as he'd offered. ‘Carlo, you should get back to work. I might go through Immigration and browse in the duty free.'

He pulled away and downed his short black in one gulp. ‘You trying to get rid of me? Don't you let Sandy lead you into any trouble. You're my woman, remember that.'

Anna stood and kissed him quickly. ‘Of course. Don't be silly.'

‘Call that a kiss? C'mon, babe. Kiss me like you mean it. This one's gotta last.' He pulled her to him, his hands on her bottom pushing her pelvis into his as he kissed her passionately.

Anna bought a bottle of perfume as a gift for Sandy and a book to read on the flight.

The Immigration officer glanced at her departure card and opened her brand-new passport.

‘First trip away?'

‘Yep, I'm visiting my girlfriend. She works for HOPE, the aid outfit.'

‘Good one. You got rellies over there?'

‘Not that I know of . . . it's just a holiday.' Anna was slightly uncomfortable at the awareness she looked Vietnamese.

‘How long you plan to stay?'

‘Three weeks.'

‘It's a great place. Went there last year. Terrific food. Nice people.' He stamped her passport and handed it to her. ‘Have a good trip, love.'

There was a less friendly reception when she landed in Hanoi. Tourists were herded by officials in unflattering khaki uniforms. There were also police or army officials, she wasn't sure which, holding guns. The women officers wore the same uniforms as the men and were brusque and unsmiling. There was a lot of standing around in a cavernous cement space with posters on the walls which she couldn't read. She followed an English sign to claim her baggage and waited with the other subdued passengers from her flight.

Finally, after every scrap of official paper was scrutinised, she headed for the exit with a wave of jostling travellers. An official checking luggage stickers spoke to her in Vietnamese and she shook her head.

‘Sorry, I don't understand.'

Two more officials at the exit waved her through, one making a short comment to the other. She heard the words ‘Viet Kieu'. She would hear them much more in the coming weeks.

Through the sea of pushing passengers, drivers touting for business, and hotel and tourist operators waving placards with names on them, she spotted the tall figure of Sandy, her blonde hair a beacon in the sea of drab colours. They hugged, each surprised at how happy they were to see the other.

‘C'mon, Kim from our office is here to help. Is that all your luggage? Good girl.' Sandy linked an arm through Anna's and waved at a smiling young man standing by a car.

‘Welcome to Vietnam. I hope your visit is everything you want it to be.' Kim spoke with an American accent.

‘I haven't thought that far ahead yet,' smiled Anna. ‘Is this your home?'

‘I wish it were: I love it very much here. I'm American. I work for HOPE also,' he answered rather formally.

‘Kim's from Hawaii. Anything you want to find in Hanoi, Kim's the man,' said Sandy as they approached the car. ‘You take the front seat and experience the full impact of driving in Vietnam,' said Sandy, and Kim laughed.

Anna quickly understood what they meant as they left the airport and made the forty-five minute drive into the city. Soon she stopped stamping her foot on the nonexistent brake, cringing and drawing to one side as vehicles and bikes, a hand span away from the car, surged around them as they wove through the haphazard traffic.

‘At least we're all going in the same direction. Are there any road rules?' she asked Kim.

‘Some. The problem is that only fifty per cent of drivers have a licence so you just have to take your chances. Stick your hand out and wave and jump into a space as soon as you see it,' he explained.

Anna gazed at the pretty women seated on their motor scooters, some dressed in the traditional ao-dai, some in casual pants and blouses. They wove through the traffic with poise and skill. Some wore hats, kerchiefs over their faces and long gloves to protect their skin from sun and pollution.

‘The women don't like getting sunburned,' explained Sandy. ‘White skin is preferred. The Bondi look doesn't work here. A tan means you work outside in the fields, a peasant worker.'

The motorcycles and scooters fascinated Anna. Couples with several children perched in front and behind, and people carrying impossible loads of brooms, food, bunches of flowers, crates of chickens, even several huge live pigs, careened past. Close to the centre of town cyclo drivers seated behind their passengers furiously pumped their pedicabs to keep up with the flow of the traffic.

They passed the untidy remains of a huge flower market now almost deserted after its five am start. Anna was experiencing strange feelings as she looked at the women on the sidewalks and in the traffic, and recognised traits and similarities to herself. The swish of their long hair, their delicate frames, their facial features, even mannerisms fleetingly glimpsed. She was seeing flashes of herself in a thousand mini mirrors.

Sandy leaned over the seat and touched her shoulder. ‘It's always a bit over-the-top when you first arrive. You'll adjust.'

Anna simply nodded, hypnotised by the bustling street life, the throng of people and traffic, the tall narrow multicoloured buildings, the open-air markets.

‘It can be a bit overwhelming. But there are oases in this city. I love Hanoi,' said Sandy reassuringly.

‘It's still the real Vietnam,' agreed Kim. ‘With a lot more western comforts. I worry tourism is going to change it too much. Like Saigon.'

‘What does “Viet Kieu” mean?' asked Anna suddenly, and Kim glanced at Sandy in the rear-vision mirror.

‘It has several meanings, literal and inferred. Basically it means foreign-born or half Vietnamese and also means Vietnamese who live overseas,' said Sandy. ‘You'll be regarded as a foreigner no matter what you look like. It'll be up to you to ignore it, or to try to bring the two pieces of your family history together somehow.'

Sandy hadn't expected this to come so early in Anna's visit. Foreign Vietnamese, those born or living outside the country who had privileges and opportunities but no awareness or knowledge of their heritage, often earned the scorn and ire of those living in the country who had inherited the past as well as the future of a now-united Vietnam.

Anna recalled the friendly exchange with the Australian Immigration officer and the snide remarks of the North Vietnamese airport officials. ‘It's not my land. I have no connection with this place. Australia is my home; it's all I know,' she answered.

There was silence in the car for a moment, then Kim said warmly to Anna, ‘It can be an advantage to blend in when you can. You might discover Vietnam brings you all kinds of gifts.'

Anna thought it an odd remark.

Sandy leaned forward and touched her friend's shoulder. ‘We're here for a good time, right? I've worked hard since I've been here . . . now it's time to play a bit. We both need time out.'

Anna thought Sandy was referring to their jobs, but Sandy was thinking more of Carlo. She desperately wanted Anna to have fun, feel free and adventurous. And loosen the ties to Carlo.

Anna was obviously thinking of him too. ‘Do mobile phones work okay here? I must text Carlo and tell him I've arrived safely.'

‘Some places, no probs,' said Sandy easily. ‘Let's settle you in to my flat. It's no palace, but it's comfy and a great location.'

Kim joined the conversation. ‘So, Anna, what kind of shopping do you want to do? Vietnam has many wonderful things to buy.' He broke into a recitation of hot spots for tailored clothes, lacquerware, antiques, pirated DVDs, places to eat, places to see.

Anna began to relax. She was with her best friend in a place that offered interesting sights, great food and shopping, and a chance to share their lives as they always had. She realised how much she'd missed that. Anna pushed aside the uncomfortable business of her genetic links to this place. Yep, she was here for fun. And she intended to make the most of it.

2

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