The Quiet Vietnamese

Unlike Pyle, the quiet American, his Vietnamese counterpart is truly quiet (albeit both will be quiet when death comes knocking). He wouldn’t venture out to dance. Not until and unless he ends up an odd-man-out, looking anti-social in a socially mediated society. He wouldn’t dare proposing to Phuong, Fowler’s live-in girlfriend. Not that short a dating runway. Not without first checking with a trusted matchmaker (Pyle later cleared it with Phuong’s older sister).

After all, our quiet Vietnamese has already lived a dozen lives, as it seems: inoculated against “mal jaune” (Bernard Fall’s term via Ron Nessen, Ford’s Press Sec) common among Euro expats first arrived in Asia. A variant of Stockholm Syndrome.

By nature, he treks and talks with caution (“uon luoi hai lan”). Walls can hear, unlike on the Net, where no one knows you’re a dog.

This is to no one’s surprises since his roots reached back thousands years, with edited and whitewashed mythology i.e. heroines and heroes, defenders and offenders (if honestly accounted for) swords and elephants, ships and even tanks. Our quiet Vietnamese was taught not so much in school nor censored at home, but more by the dead ( the Ancestral Altar) and enforced by the living (village life).

BTW, born in a predominantly agricultural society, somehow he felt a tug of shame – perhaps it’s second-rate dining, like a peasant (que qua!) out on the floor around the circular tray, as oppose to sitting alone at an outdoor cafe in District 1 (as our TIME magazine perfect stringer/spy). Even Alain Delon, as the talented Mr. Ripley, acted awkward with his forks, out of place in a rich-man’s yacht. Our quiet Vietnamese inhabits condition-reflex of servitude, having lived “downstairs” for generations: Oui oui Monsieur. Excuse moi, Mademoiselle ( Ong Tay, ba Dam, thang lai xe).

In that long and high context, our Vietnamese “Pyle” is reluctant to assert himself as egalitarian in debate. The mike is on “Mute” comes his turn. It keeps people guessing. Silence is golden as agreeable by default. If it were perceived as wisdom all the better. The more unscripted, the more vulnerable. Unedited speech and unchecked rants bubble up in a competitive comparison situation only among unguarded compatriots at beer garden. “Look, my scars are bigger than yours”.

Most times, he just observes and stands ready with AI-like auto reply – to deflect and discourage deeper probes. Dale Carnegie would be proud. He wouldn’t want to give away proprietary wisdom e.g. the second mouse always gets the cheese etc… ” An co di truoc, loi nuoc theo sau”, “nhat phao cau, nhi dau canh” (chicken ass tastes best, then come wings and heads).

Always humble and unstated, he would wait for others to nudge him to situate out front on those empty seats (to be expected). This reverse psychology is all too familiar with local event organizers who anticipated and proactively prepared flex seating arrangement e.g. folded chairs. Even wedding invitations might indicate precise venue, but always and already took into account unpunctuality (fluidity i.e. it’s time when everyone gets here). Status and others' perception contribute to face-saving.

He faked left to go right; answered Yes to a negative question (supposedly “No ” in English). His being uncertain and wavering on issues (his world was more time-tested than truth-tested. Harmony and his role in relations to others i.e. someone’s brother, Phuong’s sister or son of so and so, take precedent over individualism (a Ba, chi Tu …Brother 3 Sister 4 …naming in the order one is born). More lineage-centric than future-centric. More Old Testament than New.

In early 80’s, World Relief organization built a replica of an American house at Bataan, Philippines for Cultural Orientation. Cambodian and Vietnamese refugees might need to adapt to future Western environment, even when language is an important component of acculturation (their kids out of reaction swung far the other way…”hey, bro” to assert their Americanism) ” fences make good neighbors” ( R. Frost). NO SOLICITING and “No Trespassing” on “This land is for you and me”.

Sociologists noted third-generation immigrants will afford the luxury of studying Urbanization and Migration (Roots?). Meanwhile, having survived the Killing Fields and bombing fields, these extended family slowly left behind old-world ideologue. Crossing over means transitioning from ancestral worship to Thanksgiving, from duck to turkey, chopsticks to forks (once just a glimpse by pedicab past the Continental Hotel patio), politics to economics – of survival (found Van Hoang’s Giant Girl and the Monkey King – to make my point about the luxury of interests in tradition and creativity).

It’s one thing to be subversive to a minority representing Colonial power. It’s another to feel hemmed in by counterparts in a new land. Coming into contact with foreigners, to him, always bears bad news. As a result, xenophobia presents barriers to full integration. After centuries of hard-wiring, of occupation by “the 0thers” (foreign “devil” or invaders who pushed opium and opioid).

Foreigners e.g. Chinese up North with thousand-years occupation or French of 100 years, the best one can hope for were some “Ma-Roc” (Ma = ghost from N Africa) brown half-breeds, despised and unwanted, even Amerasian, up until “Homecoming” status (early 80’s).

He himself knew this (racism both inner and outer), since his people did the same to the Chams in the South. Besides, Westerners often misread non-verbal cues (Gooood Morning Vietnam, where a date is not a date, unless an entourage of chaperons. On film set, they call this “sex coordinator” in case the scene gets too hot and “real”. Courtesy of Michael Douglas on Politically Incorrect.)

At the third invite and insistence, (Khach Sao) No yields to Yes. Unlike Western counterparts who at initial contrast, would jump right in ” Oh fish sauce!” (Anthony Bourdain). Second serving, please.

Brought up in high-context/circular existence vs Western low context/linear thinking – he found himself speaking out of turn and living out of place (Woody Allen once said ” nobody is walking in LA”. ) Unlike the old Colonial days, when he roamed around downtown in Bata shoes for a Sunday stroll in Saigon. Now everyone drives in Little Saigon, then "park" himself at outdoor cafe (smokers and non).

He is not apt or up for a panel discussion (ready 2, take 2 – on camera, reaction shot only). Due to fear of missing out he would self-designate a “tension relief” role in group dynamics. Sarcasm greases social. So are chewing gums e.g. Fowler’s Vietnamese contact in Cho Lon warehouse – or our Indian friend in One flew over the cuckoo’s nest. One didn’t speak much English, the other, pretended to be “quiet” until the very end: ” Want some Juicy Fruits?”.

To him, disagreement and resolution are settled via a third party, not direct confrontation. Passive aggressive disorder he was, hence venting and ranting to sympathetic ears only – off-stage and offline.. Besides, for thousands of years, his ancestors got by with delayed Karma. Why now, why here, why him. The nail that sticks up always gets hammered down (1963 successive coups).

Meanwhile, low context individualist has an urge for over-talking (let’s not side track and get into our ongoing evolution of the American electorate, who nowadays are nothing but quiet: ” Hang Mike Pence!”). Here in the West, one must toot one’s horn and chant the chants (often in 3 words e.g. “Push them back, push them back.. way back ” in Game Day). Greene sarcastic note was "the only quiet American is a dead one" . To that I would add the only quiet one was Phuong, with her nods in agreement as all stakeholders fought over her future.

It’s the squeaky wheel that gets the grease.

“How are you” = “hi” . It’s an acknowledgment of your existence. Not to be milked out and followed by a series of “how is your buffalo doing “ (ke kho – sympathy-seeking) . Time = money (In and Out burger). In the West, we found plenty psychiatrists. The East, not too many.

To no one’s surprises it’s Kissinger who caught the drift ” Vietnam would find more ways of breaking one’s heart than anyone could ever have conceived” (pg. 11 Making the News Taking the News). As it turned out, he and Le Duc Tho split a ” Peace with Honor” Nobel Prize for crossing the chasm.

The West and the Rest, time vs eternity, the Past and the Future, being stoic vs move-fast-break-things. On Russia’s centuries-old ambition, Undersecretary for Defense Colin Kahl ” It’s always weird to read things like that – Russia Imperial Ambition- as an American, because our history doesn’t go back very far. So the notion that countries would give a shit about what happened 9,000 years ago or whatever or, you know, 2,000 years ago or 1,000 years . Americans don’t think like that.” (Woodward’s War pg. 45).

That explains Pyle’s Messianic complex ( per Graham Greene). After a brief brush with death – hiding in the tower with Fowler, he decided to offer Fowler’s “birdy” a way out: a more stable American Dream ( a Green Card = more future ). Legally she was not married (while Phuong’s sister protectively and proactively (lo xa) wanted security for her immediate sibling – Quyen Huynh The Phu – in the absence of parent, older siblings filled in) ” What would become of “my” Phuong, my young sister, once that old geese repatriates!”

On top of humiliation, our old reporter played by Michael Caine, in later version of the film, failed to divorce his ambivalent wife (London). Even among “white folks”, there exist razor-thin nuances i.e. for Pyle “I have all the advantages of a strong and sustained commitment, Hell, we won at D-Day; hence, I can provide more for Phuong, with your permission, of course”.

For Fowler ” we have been going steady and sufficiently i.e. already a win-win arrangement, why rock the boat? ( he’s in denial of the Law of Diminishing return – with street exchange rate and a live-in housemate, he could live barely on just a typewriter and books.) What’s is this all about! in Caine's Alfie days ” there will always be someone younger (Pyle?) and more qualified ” to “take over the account”. For context, it turns out to be Dien Bien Phu 2.0 = Da Nang – China beach.

Talking about let sleeping dog lie. Later, to eliminate the list of suspects, our Colonial French detective tried to chalk-mark pet’s footprints on Fowler's wet cement for admissible evidence.

You are here, per Thich Nhat Hanh. Existence and presence. No need for self-justification. Walk the ground and feel the grass. Smell the sea. Savor your uninfected hemoglobin. Let it (illusion) go. What happened in near shore e.g. repeated rape and robbing (in the case of our quiet boat-people) stay in near shore. Even when one is labeled by sheer and shanty mode of transport, you are to keep the faith, while counting the beads.

Each moment links up to the next in an endless cycle. Raft or Boat? It’s just an insignificant seafaring vessel. Unlike the Mayflower which BTW got fireworks treatment, you are to remain Incognito.

Stealth mode is modus operandi. He/she just quietly listens (News, from the BBC etc..) but not forms an opinion. Not without exhaustively bouncing if off others (group think). The Orient mystique is non-absolute non-binary Orient, with yin/yang relativism. Our own Viet Thanh Nguyen calls out ” the man with two faces”. One is always right and only wrong because of circumstances or failed to tag a blame on others.

That situation ethics accommodates and entertains various interpretations (the more power, the more correct – per Balzac, a man might be wrong, but not his money. Or else, how could you explain the multitude of Nguyen and Tran.) Everyone (who paid bribes) fits unto a boat. Even paid customers have to keep heads down, shoulders stooped, No staring or eyes contact. Out to sea, it’s 50-50 survival rate.

Let the other 50% discover Nirvana first. Don’t call attention to yourself. Get in the longest beheading line and the shortest cashier line.

Version of “Truth” is spit out on the other side, once multi data points fed in this side (like an old IBM mainframe with garbage in/garbage out). “Facts” filtered and sanitized via propaganda machinery. What Harari would coin a “Nexus” of inter-subjective reality. Business decision or marital decision, public or private, expertise or amateur, all consensus/compromise. If that doesn’t work, blame it on misfortune or fat Buddha.

The Asian mindset permeates. “Truth” is subjected to endless wash/dry cycles. There will always be plenty (Eves and eons) to spread the blame e.g. not a boy? no problem. Let me connect you to your next mistress or second wife. (“di hang hai” : man of two minds). One-child policy, then, its reversal.

I saw you (generic) lie there in the infirmary, upstairs of a make-shift camp (Jubilee prison in Hong Kong). Eyes closed, bodies still. Passive and stoic. Your boat behind, but nightmares were not. Perhaps you were still shaken and paranoid. Strangers (male) reminded you of foreign aggressors who attacked in waves. What do they want this time? Shouting in undecipherable voices. Another round of the pleasure of the flesh? Wow! Rape = power. Gratification via self-elevation.

At sea, you either get beaten or eaten. In your case, it’s both. One must feel convulsive to have survived on other passenger’s stale flesh, after offering your own unwashed for survival. Against all odds. If it were today, they could have used Facebook to post geo- location to fellow “bros” so they too can have their fill.

Far out in blue ocean, pirates could easily spot Boat people. Human traffic to them were just like the flow of fresh “meat”. It’s easy a harvest, both profitable and pleasurable (BTW, they would never wish for their mothers to be on the receiving end).

Having absorbed all the punches there were, you passively make concession to all power and principalities, in land and at sea, via a slow-boiling process of cultural osmosis. It’s syncretistic Cao Dai ism which appealed to Pyle as a possible Third Force. A nation of bamboo branches swaying spinelessly and unbent, just like Phuong, just like that slim dancers at Tet Temple festival. Unless it’s chopsticks, then the more, the harder to break.

So far, it seems to buy some time, until the last “domino” fell in a cascade of political upheaval: Pentagon Papers, Santa Monica and Watergate break-in (“Our national nightmare is finally over” as Ford said while presiding over the eventual collapse of your “shit-ass country”, Nixon’s Quaker expression – caught on tape: Extra Extra! Deep Throat.. Subsequently the tagged-on suffix “Gate” kept showing up e.g. Lewinsky-gate Heaven's Gate).

Our foreign-affairs expert x-president thought his voice alone could “trickily” have won him the Kennedy debate, if only American voters had listened to him over the radio – hot medium – and not watching mostly on television – at the time a new and exciting cool medium. As it turned out, it’s his VOICE on tape that did him in.

After repeated and failed attempts at bribe, suddenly you were told to leave without a hush-hush goodbye. Equipped with just a faint hope and an ill-defined notion of Social Contract i.e. La liberte and fraternite – you ignored the absurdity and futility of it all (if vanished at sea, at least your remain will float and finally be linked up with loved ones.)

Like Ukraine and Palestine displaced today, you spilled out to sea by any means necessary. Out in the middle of nowhere, and in the absence of coast guards, even the USA-flagged Mayaguez was vulnerable (76)

So you remain quiet, scrolling through trivial post without going postal. You block out drama of the past, be content with allotted station in life. No drive-by, just drive-in. In compliance, you fill out forms (INS) and stop at STOP signs (DMV). Human-to-documents chain, as mentioned in Nexus.

But for those brief moments, between red and green light, you want to scream: “I don’t just exist”. Yes, they can rob, rape or draw blood. But per Victor Frankl “they cannot harm or hurt you, who resides inside your body”. Hey, you can’t just press a button and expect:” How high?” (like Born-Again Chuck Colson). To the roof of the Capitol? Hell I even run over my grandma!. Re. D.C. I saw 52,880 names on black marble, inscribing our dark sorrow of war. You can be done with the killing, but not the healing.

So Pyle, Fowler, Alfie, Peter, Paul, and Mary, whatever name you are called nowadays: Tom, Dick and Harry. May I call you by your new name, not John Doe. since you’re naturalzied American, a quiet individualist who stops at traffic lights (lots of and longer wait). You have shredded your old ID, burned your document, identity and ideologue to blend in (during the Pol Pot regime, wearing glasses was asking for trouble).

When it comes to human acting inhuman, it’s best to keep quiet. Your mere presence already serves as a walking reminder of CREEP (Committee to re-elect Nixon) and CRAP (Constructive Republican Alternative Proposals). From Pol Pot to Post-Cold War ‘s End of History. Then post-post Cold War World (per Friedman). Why do the birds, go on singing…even when it’s All quiet on the Cambodian front.

That night, that first night out to sea was the longest. Sunrise could not come sooner, like children waiting for Christmas morning. After all, everything, your old and true self sunk to the bottom of the sea, next to tons of chopper steel (see When It’s Worst). To live on is to exist in between self-loathing (survivor’s guilt) and self-acceptance (Lancome’s “The first time, I ever saw your face” Isabella Rossellini).

Yet, it’s been decades since (from Isabella to Olivia – our new Brand Ambassador). Today's people found it easy to air dirty laundry, their prejudice and their rant – Social Media paid for by sponsors and powered by AI. High-context living low context pitching e.g.” Where’s the beef”. Not on Hamburger Hill nor Capitol Hill. Not without future-forwarding statement in fine-print disclaimer. Digital preying and virtual pirating, maximizing the eyes balls, and monetizing our attention and time; turning grievances into gold, tragedy into treasury. Get to the point before they “SKIP AD”. We need more “Likes”. Chuck Chink!

You left things unsaid. By default, your no-contest = voluntary servitude. Since the past was not all romantic e.g. even Camelot via Colby and Lodge, a few degrees of separation = plausible-deniability e.g. Diem and Nhu – then found himself and his brother suffer the same fate (1963/68). Our quiet Vietnamese is deep in thoughts and heavy in burden.

I know you don’t succumb to love at first sight – unlike Pyle, at an expat hangout (at the opening scene, we find him faced down in the gutter while Fowler, for alibi, ordering drinks and looking at his watch nervously). All quiet in our 1952 Colonial town. It’s there that country folks more than likely equated white American with French counterparts. Graham Greene foresaw the implosion and erosion of the Colonial way (total war vs limited intervention, thousand of years vs every four years, kill ratio of 10:1).

What can you do, given your short life against a long war (of attrition) nightly led-in Network News broadcast beamed straight into America’s living room: My Lai and Killing Fields, look, look (more TV diners, please) in “shit-ass countries” (BTW, during the Nixon’s era, “going downtown” meant “carpet bombing” with more bombs than WWI and II combined, Army surplus or freshly manufactured, exploded or un-exploded, not the hit song “Downtown” which Madison Avenue uses to sell luxury goods). Those ordinance defoliated and deformed both land and people, with visible and permanent invisible scars.

By estimate, it would take another 350 years to rebuild Gaza. Often times, as Greene’s novel last line, ” How I wished there had existed someone to whom I could say I was sorry”. Xin Loi Vietnam. Xin Loi 52,880 American families. Xin Loi the conscientious objectors – who can’t or no longer want to come home (no yellow ribbons on the summer oak tree).

Inarticulate, but always under construction at the subconscious level are “voices never share, no one dared, disturb the Sound of Silence”.

The quiet Vietnamese. God knows the things he carries, inside his/her little head: millions of mini-calculations? Inarticulate thoughts and immature impulses? Survivor’s slow burn guilt? Pain hidden in plain sight? The weight of long in-fighting ( in the absence of war, you fight one another in the time of peace) as both victim and victor, internalizing and rehashing Trinh-Nguyen Civil war, against neighbors up North or next door- genocide on the South. Instead of roaring like Tiger in triumph over and against Elephant, you fear further antagonism would slow FDI infrastructure upgrade.

Hence, by personalizing your anger, you turn inward. Quietly, you resolve to regroup and fight another day. James Bond 000.What’s unprocessed occasionally and eventually flares-up. Most times it’s self-inflicted (a few armed to the teeth and still wear uniforms after 5 decades – out of catharsis since 1975 Congress in session refused funding request for ammo resupply…a bit late for “…Asian boys ought to do it for themselves…”)

War-torn world with intangible and tangible damage e.g. enemy ears for trophies (S Korean joint forces at the urge and nudge of LBJ to replenish his Hill Country coonskin collection). His successor resigned, while he himself refused to be nominated for a second term. Remember Kissinger’s comment about Vietnam ‘s more ways than one…

In reality, DOD needs to account for everything e.g. Army PX or ammunition inventory, kill ratio. albeit “winning is the only thing” (from Vincent Lombardi football field to McNamara’s “Vietnam Muon Nam” – Vietnam wants to lie down – mispronouncing “Forever” for “wanting to lie down” during his 1964 field visit). Later, he went from crunching the numbers for DOD to World Bank.

At LBJ urging: ” …Asian boys ought to do it for themselves.” during Tet 68, it took Col. Loan only a fast High-noon draw of a pistol to execute a terrorist on the same District Graham Greene had his Continental Hotel film setting. Meanwhile, it took the Longest War for the West to get OBL. (Col Loan later went from pistol to pizza, fast draw to fast food, from barking out arrest orders to taking down phone orders, one of our new quiet American).

Yet, even when everything is lost or looted, when your gun (VP Ky’s gun, a gift from John Wayne) or radio confiscated, you still hear the music. Ear-deafening explosion might muff out Bolero beats but not your heart beats.

For Boat People, the journey was a toss up, with destiny in the hand of whichever vessel happened to sail by (Statue of Liberty both in France and NYC welcome the huddle mass, not Jerry Brown who at first did not want Camp Pendleton to be repurposed from a boot camp to a refugee camp. The irony that did not escape neighboring Orange County’s beach bum.)

In today’s environment, they would have been bussed up North, to “sanctuary city”, to resupply vacancy left by Hippies and War deserters. Back then, those Pennsylvania Quakers did not want to “barn-raise” for Vietnamese state boys either ( even when one non-violent conscientious-objector Quaker burned himself at the steps of the Pentagon to protest; later, his fellow congregant, sitting in the Oval office, cursed in baritone – now available on DVD – de-classified WH tape: ” Bomb the s.o.b back to Stone Age”). So much for the Quaker declaration of “sanctity of human life”. per Yoder.

Having found safe harbor, you remain shamefully and sinfully quiet. As a survivor, you tell no tales, Not even to your American-born (Mom! I want to go to Prom – good luck with Ballroom dance, young “Pyle”). By now your Anglicized name and naturalized status afford you upscale living as should be; you AKA Fowler, Pyle, Peter, Paul or Mary.

With ideologue self behind, you’re poised to climb. If not the wrong ladder, then at least, up the Immigration and Naturalization ladder (the bottom rung now occupied by Haitian and Puerto Rican – the receiving end of “Uncle Sam – doesn’t – want you” 2025 ad campaign), You glide through with Model Minority insignia and convention-hall badge (for entry and exit as a legit paid TED-talk audience).

That arduous journey, stripped one to the bare bone. It stressful enough to turn stoic into shopper (of goods made in China – ironically, your old arch enemy) as if one could resupply what’s been lost on the run. Life exterior to fill life interior. On rare occasion, while soul searching like Jacob in the well, our quiet Vietnamese asks himself: “What’s it all about, all this and this (suspenders and shoulder pads, yew!);” at what costs “to spend the money he didn’t have, to buy the things he didn’t need just to impress the neighbors he didn’t like”. Joseph weeps. On seeing his blood brothers who had previously sold him down the river. Oh how I wish there had been someone to whom I could say I was sorry.

Then off he goes, to the store, Black Friday or any Friday. Amazon-recommended and Prime delivered.

Congratulations! Now let’s yelp and help us do better on Cyber Monday or Monday quarter-backing. When it comes to self-service, our quiet Vietnamese calculates quietly much faster than others. On social studies, from Phuc “Muon Nam” to “F**k” “wants to lie down”, from pajamas to tuxedo, from all-white funeral to all-black funeral, group picture to selfie, he is timid, standing a bit near the warm center for safety in packs. But, unwatched, in Armani and in the subtle Art of not giving a F, all bets are off. What happens online, stay online. No one knows you’re a dog.

He gets it (those SNL punchlines). He reflexively curses in English ( what the ….) just as his kids.

Our entire Model Minority family are fully vetted and tested (COVID and mal jaune). They are too sterilized and sedated to unsubscribe (permission and subscription marketing). PTSD behind, pension ahead.

Just click “I agree”.

Our modern society is an advertising-supported funnel with database replenishment and resorting. Data = 21st-century gold mine.

No one knows where the line is from being a Quiet American to being an Ugly American. Up to you, the last line of defense, having paid dear price to stay true to self (evolving and adapting).

Our quiet Vietnamese remains quiet like our walking man walks on by. He always washes his hands, as if history could be scrubbed away by hand soap. Heck, the past is not even past.

Don’t venture out to the dance floor, Pyle. The journey of a thousand miles starts with that single step. Of all people, you should know by now, that unsurprising and unwanted end. Oh, but the journey itself is the reward. Again, just make sure your ladder is up against the wall, hopefully of the right building.

Since time = money, we now resume “our sponsored broadcast schedule” as day-time soap TV used to say. As long as someone out there can capitalize on one more set of eye balls 24/7. On the Net, nobody knows you’re a dog, a robot or a man, anti-social or quiet one.