Cambodia - 1974

This is the story I will forever hold of my father and the struggles and challenges he has overcome for me to be where I am now. My father was born in Cambodia in 1974. A year later, his family fled to Vietnam to escape the dictatorship of Pol Pot, leaving behind their wealth from a successful bicycle business. My father, his 9 siblings, and his family settled in Ho Chi Minh City around 1975, amid the challenges of the Fall of Saigon. The Fall of Saigon marked the end of the Vietnam War when Communist North Vietnam, Viet Cong, captured South Vietnam’s capital. Soon after, Vietnam began to shift into a communist state. 5 years later, my father’s family was forced out of their home. In 1980, a high-ranked government official confiscated their house, forcing my father, then 6, and his family into a refugee camp in the forest. They lived in a hut shared with 10 other families in Camp 979A, which did not have good living conditions. There was no electricity, sewage, or a public water system. Their only water source was a small well for the 10 families to share. At age eight, my father helped dig a 3 x 4 ft wide and 20 x 25 ft well with his siblings. They grew their own tropical fruits and vegetables (like longan, papaya, guava, and jubilee) and raised livestock because of the well. One of my dad’s chores was to water these plants 2x a day. My father often reminisces about the tropical fruits from his home country, wishing he could return and taste the authenticity of these fruits again. As a child, he was oblivious to the harsh reality of their situation like many others. Despite the difficulties, he remembers having fun, playing soccer and simple games with other kids, as if they were in a bubble, shielded from the outside world. Comparing my life to his, I realize how lucky we are to be living the world we know today and how easy it is to take it for granted. Even though our lives can be difficult, we forget how much worse they could be.