8/2/22
Below is a much older episode I had written, pulling it out of my vault!
A truly memorable experience in DC when I spent time with my host, last summer of 2022, when I was there for my State Department internship. :)
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I didn't remember the last time a "no reaction" was a valid reaction in a social setting.
The wind of it disoriented me.
Ms. Jennifer, my homestay host, had invited me to her Social Sail evenings, where she can invite one guest with her to board the sailboats on Thursday evenings. She's learning how to sail her own boat lately and it's an exclusive membership. We've become closer friends over the weeks and I hang on to every word she says. The invitation came and I knew the only answer was "yes!"
I boarded the subway from work to DCA Airport where she would pick me up. I waited at the wrong part of the airport. Asked a man if he knew where I was headed and luckily, he was headed the exact same way.
"If you don't mind tagging along, please do," he said kindly, his mustache a happy shape.
I waved a big good bye to the nice happy but tired man and jogged to Ms. Jennifer's car.
We got in and I immediately got into navigation mode, as I realized that she had trouble getting out of the airport and onto the right highway. Your girl is an experienced navigator. I do, um, steer wrong at times haha, BUT this time. When it mattered. I got it right. :D
We arrived at the edge of a park. I ran into the bathrooms to change out of my work clothes and into my maroon leggings and a yellow top that fittingly said, "~Happiness comes in waves~". Like, come on, that's too perfect.
I walked out with my bag of work clothes to sign up for a name tag and reserve a place in line to sail with my host. Ms. Jennifer knew a lot of folks. She says "Hi" in this, "Hiiiihaha" way. Where a hello is immediately connected to a laugh.
Like seeing you, brings me so much joy, my smile has to move.
After turning around from the reservation table and left alone a bit, I noticed a snack table. I came up to it, hungry. It was late and I hadn't had dinner yet. But as I walked there, I noticed how all the men, who were mostly older white men in their 50s or 60s were standing and talking, while the women lounged on the benches, resting and speaking.
I also noticed I was the only other woman of color besides Ms. Jennifer. The only Asian woman and probably one of the youngest attendees there. Everyone truly was in their 50s to 70s.
That made me feel a little shy, but I was never one to hesitate on flat pretzel chips. And I've been around older people all my life. My father's friends have always been in their 60s or 70s and were ones to advise me against boys and to focus on studying. "Bring honor to Vietnam, little girl!"
Pouring these pretzel chips into my bowl, I felt eyes on me. Well, many curious eyes. Mostly from the men. The women were mildly curious. But the men made me feel like I shouldn't have worn my maroon leggings after all. A man who looked like he was in his 40s side-eyed me several times as I picked up a plate in a way that made me feel uncomfortable, or whenever I turned my back, I felt his eyes on me. Probably not on the back of my head. Perhaps I look ageless so he allows himself to do so.
Hahaha. I'm 21. But I can pass as 30 when I speak. My voice, sounding like I have reason. Maybe wisdom. Maybe smarter than you. Maybe.
Later, I would sit down with Ms. Jennifer, digging into my plate by the edge of the water.
The shore was beautiful. Little ducks floated by. There were rows and rows of small sailboats racked on land and groups of men pulling these big shapes from the water, carrying them easily. The water reflected the deep oranges and reds of the setting sun. It was getting late and Ms. Jennifer and I grew less and less hopeful that we'd get the chance to sail.
That man that I saw from earlier walked towards Ms. Jennifer and I. Greeted her happily, while looking at me.
Giving me his hand, he introduced himself as "Call me Mike."
He was as old if not, older than my mom. And a gut feeling in me told me not to call this man by only his first name.
"Hello, Mr. Mike," I said, shaking his hand confidently, before he started to back away in a baffled way.
"Oh my god, don't call me Mister. I'm not that old!"
"Haha, I was taught by my parents to respect those older than me."
I forgot how he steered us both out of the next part of the conversation.
But he would ask me in a really abrupt way, like he's trying to size me up quickly. Like I'm not worth a second of waiting.
Question after question. Comment after comment made with no pause. He didn't want to hear what he asked for.
"So... what are you?"
"I'm Vietnamese-American, born and raised in Houston, Texas."
"You're born in the U.S. Why don't you just say you're American?"
It's my turn to be baffled.
"Because the Vietnamese part is very important to me."
I'm going to assume he heard only half of what I said, before talking about some other thing loosely tied to the little we were speaking about, about his time in Asiantown in DC or something or other.
I kind of blanked out.
First, this guy wanted to be on first name basis with me even though he is much older. Then he wants to assume what is best for me, my identity?
I excused myself quickly, and turned my back overhearing his voice baffingly say, "I'm not that old am I, to be a mister?". He asked Ms. Jennifer this, and her voice answered him confidently, "You're almost double her age, Mike! What do you mean?"
"Woah, really?"
Anyways, yup, maybe I do look ageless. But also, I'd rather not call you by your first name if I don't like you.
Later, the evening drew warmer and warmer and after successfully getting on one of the last boats, I realized the joys of sailing. It's a team effort! There's a "JIB!" moment. Always a fun moment. I forget if you duck or you seek or something, but I loved the team work and every person on my sail boat were wholesome people. That was the energy I was receiving and it was true to its course.So much laughter.
How DC looked so pretty from where we were. The edge of the Washington Monument touching the tip of the sky. A few blocks from where my office was. Ha. Look at that.
Look at me, in a life float. Grinning all pretty. Look at her.
Finding out all the joys of spontaneity and doing something new, and having one really really good person next to her all along. Ms. Jennifer.
Ms. Jennifer. Is a name, is a person, is a state of being that a powerful woman possesses.
"Imagine," I say, "yourself as a powerful woman one day."
I say. "Yes."
Later, another old ass man would hit on me. I was sitting on the boardwalk, the unwet parts, legs in a criss cross, when he walked up to me and Ms. Jennifer talking. He introduced himself and in the first 3 sentences of that introduction, explained he lost his wife a while ago and goes sailing to feel new again.
I nodded respectfully. He's like in his 60s and I mean, those folks are safe beans?
He stayed and talked with us for a long time, and I seriously thought he had known Ms. Jennifer or something, but I guess he didn't.
After I felt the hint from Ms. Jennifer that she wanted to leave, I excused us both from his company, "Goodbye Mister ___". Farther away, Ms. Jennifer immediately looked at me, wide-eyed, "Do you know that man or something? I certainly don't."
"Gosh, no! I thought you knew him so I stayed and talked out of respect."
She looked me up and down and whispered in a low voice, protectively. "These men." She held my eye contact, "He's never talked to me before. Never. Not until today."
And then it clicked in my head. It clicked.
And I barfed in my brain somewhere. BLECK BLECK BLECK EW EW EW EW.
I'm effin 21 DANG YOU PEOPLE. DANG YOU FREKIN PEEPUL.
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Later on the walk to her car, Ms. Jennifer would tell me: "Remember that man that was shocked when you called him Mister? My father taught me that I must use respect to distance myself from unwanted attention from men. And tonight, Ngoc, you received a lot of attention. At every step of the way, you distanced yourself with your words and your respect.
I thought you'd have trouble tonight getting through this, but you did so well, Ngoc. You're a pretty girl and I'm glad you know how to do this now."
Get off me, old men.
Yee.
But also, get off me, periodT. :P
These weirdOS.
This summer in DC, I'm learning about what I'm capable of in uncomfortable social settings, or just new social settings period. I'm very good at navigating in-person experiences and very ready. Very good at excusing myself because I can put myself first. Very good. At it all. :)
English may be my second language, and I can possess all its intricacies to make a woman bean like me, feel like a safe bean.
Words are mighty. The folks that said it first said it true. Words protected me that night.
Because I know how to use em. :)
And even better when I got to share these strange moments with someone who loves me, Ms. Jennifer. My guardian of the night. ^-^
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