I'm afraid to tell you that I've become that kind of driver. Yikes. But only on downhills. I'm a grandma on the uphills, driving 60 or under, as I gauge how my pedaling might affect my mileage.
It's in the fact that I was as high up as the birds. At the height of the clouds weaving in and out of the mountains and hills, just as my Subaru descends from the tallest height. The formidable stretch of green plains and the scattered houses built into the hills below me that looked like ants. How blue that sky was. I breathed then. I smiled so big. Like a kid at first bite into the crunchy, chocolate shell of ice cream cone.
My 15 hour playlist played on. I kept my left knee folded close to my chest, my only other foot pedaling steadily. I drove like an Asian, for real. Y'all. Haha. My own fucking gas money.
All gas. 6 hours on my ass, only to merge into the Houston-like traffic that is DC.
Fuck DC traffic, oh my god. The instant merges without signaling. The rushing. The killing. There's no killing, but it felt like I'm going to die all the time.
And every mistake would cost me an extra 10 minutes. And I made several. By that point, I'm already stressed, and would unfold my left leg to press my left foot to the ground, a stressy spaghetti.
Despite the stress, I did smile again, when I saw the tip of the Washington Monument. That long vertical thing that is always the first to tell you on the I-395, that you've arrived to lawmaking America. Where just a week ago, Cory Booker stood 25 hours and 5 minutes for his filibuster. To which, I watched the last 2 hours of on YouTube live and cried like a baby in my hotel room, while my fingers greased with chicken wing sauce.
I cried.
To DC, I was where my heart was crying for.
And to Cory Booker, dang it, you're attractive. DANG.
Lawmaking daddy?!
Sigh. Agh. I had my Obama-crush stage. And now it's Booker time. ;(
Anyways.
Friends. Family. Whoever reading this, I need you to know, the most attractive man to me is the man who loves his country so damn much that he fasts and dehydrates for a cohesive 25-hour speech, and doesn't fucking sit down, because he's a strong daddy. <3
Anyways. ANYWAYS.
My reason for going to DC?
1. Grace. The country of Myanmar is having military rule and had a deadly earthquake recently. Faced with such peril, the parallel government and the rebels are still fighting against the unjust military government today. The military government even ended rescue efforts after the earthquake. Corpses rot beneath cement crush. Grace has been suffering on her own. I needed to see her. And it was... <3
2. Cherry Blossoms season!!! TIDAL BASIN, MAYBE RUN INTO OBAMA?!
So with these very different reasons, I ended up parking beneath a hospital to spend two nights with Grace.
My plan was?!
Well, to sit my ass down again and listen.
Grace has that love of a lifetime. She cries, almost as if she must suffer along, with her people. She shared me with me words that I will never forget and only highlight how much she loves her country.
"I can be tortured. I am willing to do anything. They can cut my ears off. Anything to me. I just want my country to get out of this nightmare," she said, her eyes powerful with love. Determined. Sad. Exhausted by love and worry.
She keeps an earthquake tracker on her phone. She calls her family every night and morning. Never knowing when it might be the last. So I sit there, and listen. And do my best to see her for all she is. See the story that she comes from, the determined people still in Myanmar, fighting and dying and forgotten by mass media.
A footprint in the backyard, to the world.
So, she microwaves her meals lately. So, she keeps to herself. So, her hands fly quickly to her phone whenever the earthquake alarm screams, the most high pitched, loud noise.
So, it made sense that the first place we went to was an Asian supermarket, to get her groceries. It would take her 3 hours by public transport round trip, whilst carrying the groceries. No brainer that we went. <3
And it made sense when I told her I can drive us anywhere she wanted. And she wanted the Myanmar mini mart, the only one in DC. Perhaps the only one this side of the country. No brainer that we went.
And it's neatly tucked away. Folks, this mini-mart is a MINI-MART and it's tucked away almost, half basement level, behind a medium-sized plaza, yards away from trash and recycling. It's so tucked away that there's no direct entrance. You have to go through a door that someone who must have been super angry, kicked so hard, that glass has bent. And through there, you step a few stairs, open another door and there you are.
A full ass store, packed with ready-made meals. Dried fish, beef, chicken. So many spices and canned goods, and frozen upon frozen foods. Grace easily conversed with the store owners there. And was so excited to speak in her language, I could tell. Her language like music in the background while I stared keenly at the different seed packs and canned fruits I've never heard of.
Southeast Asia really has it all. DAMN.
Just seeing Grace intently take in the ready-made meals, excitedly grab a multitude of things. Put it into her little bag. A lighting up. A coming home.
I just wanted Grace to feel the coming home, that I've taken for granted. That I didn't know was such a privilege. Miss ma'am. Little miss bean, whom loves her country and people so much that she absorbs their suffering because it is her own.
Gosh.
A love so great that it is pain when it is pain.
And maybe this episode was going to go somewhere happier about DC. And maybe it would but just for now, I just wanted to hug Grace. As I drove us home from my Uncle's, the thin road ahead became thinner. Thoughts became clearer.
Eventually, we called up Manal, asked for her exact location and I struggled y'all, but I picked that girl up from the busy ass corridor known as U St. That place is a crazy pick up spot. Do not. My fool ass should have remembered the last time I was on U St.
And that was the summer of 2022, when Manal walked me back to the subway station so I could get home. We ran into two random ass white people. A cute lesbian and her bald bi friend. Yo, we're still kinda keeping in touch even today, honestly.
But when we asked them to help us take a picture of us, I think the four of us vibed too hard.
We vibed so hard that they pulled us to the nearest Spongebob-looking-ass bar. I got a soda pop. Everyone else got drinks. I was still a non-drinker then haha. And later, I'd meet the girl again. She's the coolest. I'd later reunion with her while she sold gay merch at Smith College on a fateful afternoon, my senior year.
But that should have been telling. U St. My fool ass should have remembered. >-<
With Manal, I feel like she sees right through me. It's been 2 years since last. She knew me as the ultra chaotic girl. No wonder she was surprised. I was the unsmashed bug in college hahahaha. Deserving of all the smacks.
I remember I said most things without thinking. I had great reactions, great wit. And I was never diplomatic. Well, not as diplomatic and people-seasoned as I am today?? People-seasoned....?!
As seasoned with dealing with people. Two years ago, she saw her chaotic friend say the most off-the-wall things unafraid, safe in their traditionally all-women's institution. Protected by being in a bubble of other secure off-the-wall people, who could overhear at any time and laugh along.
I could make anyone laugh back then.
So this past weekend when she saw me, it was an absolute reunion. But a total newness too. Ivanna, my best friend, has seen me change gradually. Jacob tells me that I've mellowed out. I used to be crazy. I'm softer now.
But for friends who haven't seen me in a while, the change must be drastic for them.
But then also, I want to know that the Ngoc that is growing inside of Ngoc is actually Ngoc and not a hollowed-out, corporate-seasoned, people-seasoned, mellowed people pleaser.
I'm scared folks. I'm scared, ngl.
Manal and I assessed each other, like the queens we are, still laughing at all the silliness in each other still, but new.
That's why reunions are both so exciting and scary. It's a chance to see your own new reflection, of yourself.
I love Manal's bluntness. And for that, Manal. She's a mature and wonderful little woman. <3
We parted ways at the bus stop. I couldn't stop waving at her, even as the bus pulled away. Tears bubbled behind my eyes. A friend. Gosh, from horse riding, from sitting in the same van that stank of horse and shit, from international politics classes upon international relations classes, from dinners that went on too fucking long.
Manal was there. Grace and I took the long way back home, avoiding clear the sus-looking stairs, where a bag of popcorn chips still laid gutted out and splayed. Like a crime scene.
So... naw.
I packed neatly into my blue suitcase. We woke up early, Grace and I, to visit the National Mall at least once, to see if the cherry blossoms really did all blow off. Before we got there, I paid homage to the Vietnam War Memorial, as I always do, that long and silent walk. From one name to many names, to one name again. A period at the end of a sentence.
I felt that deep thankfulness in my heart for every American soldier whom died fighting for Vietnamese democracy alongside the South Vietnamese, even if Americans stood to gain maybe a military base or whatever if they won the war with the South Vietnamese, Americans were there. They were there. Brave and young and gone now. And I can never stop being grateful for that.
We then paid homage to Abraham Lincoln's monument. Because, it's Abe. It's honest Abe. I fucking love Abraham LINCOLNNNNNN. Fuck my ex for not letting us stop at any of the Kentucky Abe stops. >-< Sigh. It's okay.
Abe was still enormous before me. Rereading his "4 score and 7 years ago" always gave me chills. <3 America. AMERICA. If she were honest. Like Abe.
My bad ankle grew sore but we pushed on, deeper into the next part of the mall. To cross over to the Tidal Basin where Obama was just spotted a few days ago. CAN YOU BELIEVE HOW DEPRESSED I WAS WHEN I REALIZED I MISSED OBAMA BY A FEW DAYS?!?! MY GOD. MY GOSH. I AM SOOOOO UNLUCKY. To say the least.
What made things harder was the 10-mile Cherry Bloom marathon. It was the only thing separating me from my cherry blossoms. So we fucked it, and joined the marathon, for a total of maybe 7 seconds to cross. And when we did, it was more than obvious that the blossoms had all blown off from days of rain.
I didn't sob.
I didn't cry.
I was empty inside.
Like the time my silly ex left me. What a silly man.
Like the time I realized that I missed Obama by a few days.
Well surely, Obama would be no where near the National Mall right now if the blossom trees looked so damn naked like that. We found some baby trees that still had some. And stared at those for a while, before turning back, defeated. Worn out. Fresh from a marathon. Me chugging along a bad ankle.
And just when we thought spring sucked in DC, a field of tulips, hidden away by a grove of trees, appeared to our right. They're the kind of tulips we would have no way of knowing were there without walking back defeated.
In defeat, we found paradise.
A field of fucking tulips. According to one of my Har Mar trivia nights, tulips were a form of currency in the US of A, 1920s. AND I GET WHY. THEY'RE GORGEOUS. THEY'RE SO FAT.
TULIPS HAVE A GYATT. THEY ARE SO FAT AT THE TOP AND THEIR STEMS ARE SO LONG AND FIRM AND THEIR COLORS ARE ANY YOU CAN THINK OF. THERE'S SO MUCH FULLNESS AND MY EYES WERE FEASTING. I WAS DROOLING INSIDE AND OUT. OH MY GOD, TULIPS?!?!?! TULIPSSSSSS.
So your biatch squatted low to the ground, and smiled at the them, for the pics.
I'm still young. I'm still pretty.
I'm still really cute.
I need the pictures. :)
So THENNN we took an Uber home. My blue suitcase stood alert and ready. Let it be known that it was a very long good-bye to Grace. A very long hug. She stood there sweetly, waiting for me to pay the parking garage, and waved me all the way until the barrier lifted.
She's that kind of friend. Grace. Su Than Thar Nyi. :) Thank you, Grace.
The final stop was to see my homestay host. Ms. Jennifer whom hosted me in DC back in 2022, during my State Department internship. Whom invited me to go sailing with her. I wrote about that time in Episode 93. What an interesting time it was then. Wow. Life was really hard for me in 2022. T__T
Shit I can't believe I'm not at episode 100 yet. I'M TAKING TOO DAMN LONG WRITING TOO MANY POEMS AND EXPERIMENTAL PIECES. EW.
Anyways, to see her again. I brought along Taiwanese pineapple cake to share. We caught up on all things love. Like we usually do. I feel like such a girl with her hahaha.
Because I am a girl. Yes.
I didn't know I've missed her laugh so much. Or her disapprovals. Haha. She will have an honest opinion about you and you will see it on her face. I'm invited to her wedding y'all. :D WAHH!!!
And she called me honey. She called me daughter. She missed me.
And I missed her. What a gift it is to start as strangers and then love each other so hard, despite time and distance and a call or two once a year. What a miracle that love like that exists amongst ladies like me and Ms. Jennifer.
I'm smiling right now as I write this.
Ms. Jennifer thinks I've grown too. In all the ways. A charmer, though, I've always been. ;D
She is going to be one of few people in my life who can say my name so endearingly, even when it's said as "Knock". The most endearing "Knock" I've ever heard.
I took her for a spin in my Subaru. She was delighted. "You're a good driver, wow, Ngoc." She smiled.
She went off to get ready for church and I drove off to come back home, to somewhere in Marietta, Ohio. 6 hours away.
In the rain. Non-stop rain. It poured and poured and I almost fell asleep but I made it home. Barely. Exhausted. But undefeated.
Dear DC,
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to see a couple old friends, not all of them, but gosh, next time. Next time, I will see all of them. New and old. But this time, just the few people who I love for a few hours. Thank you DC, for having me.
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