my
mother
was
my first country.
the first place I ever lived.
lands | nayyirah waheed
During my time in Nepal, I have been confronted with the ‘existential crisis’ of discovering my true cultural identity. Numerous times, I have been frankly asked “You from China?” To which I would reply, “No, I’m from the U.S.”
My answer left many people in a perpetually confused daze. With a follow up of more questions, it eventually led me to irritably simplifying my answer to “I’m Vietnamese”. I was tired of explaining myself. My yellow face obviously did not embody the common portrayal of the young female from United States. And even though I knew most people in Nepal were just curious about where I was from, it left me a little flustered. This wasn’t the first time someone had a difficult time grasping my American identity – I have been asked this same question many times back home.
The confrontation of my identity is something I’ve been pondering for a while…something that might have taken a trek to another country to fully reflect upon. Raised with Vietnamese ideals at home, and American ideals at school, it was difficult to find equilibrium with the two. I was taught to live a life in accord to my family and that I needed to do everything I could to provide for my them. While in school, I learned to seek my true passion (women’s equal rights y’all!). This led to the great opportunity to work with Empower Generation; something I believed beautifully fused the two beliefs. So I left on this journey thinking to myself, is my purpose to live a life for my family or myself, or is there actually a perfect balance of the two?
With this daunting question looming over my every day thoughts, I believed my answers would be found in the land of Nepal.
On our way, I started to read “The Book of Salt”, a novel by Monique Truong about a young gay Vietnamese man living as a chef during the 1920s in Paris. You know how a book can sometimes shake your world in indescribable ways? Well, this book left me in a state of wonder.
“To walk by without blinking an eye is to say to each other that we are human, whole, a man or a woman like any other, two lungfuls of air, a heart pumping blood, a stomach hungry for home-cooked food, a body in constant search for the warmth of the sun.”
I yearn for that sense of comfort – something I am hopeful for when I finally get the chance to visit Vietnam. But in many ways, I recognize remarkable similarities with Nepal and the stories my parents shared from growing up in Vietnam – the busy, trash ridden streets jam-packed with motor bikes and cars filled with more people than normal capacity, small businesses every where, and FRESH FRUIT on carts! And during our first field visit, I noticed that many homes housed the entire extended family – similar to my mother’s situation in Vietnam. The women entrepreneurs with children my age were also raised a bit like me. They were instilled with great love and affection for their family, and were pursuing life paths that would eventually help their families. Runa’s 10-year-old daughter, Priya, wanted to work at a bank, because she thought that is where all the money is. I choked up when she shared that with our team, and felt a profound connection with her dream to uproot her family from deep poverty, and into a more comfortable life.
After my encounter with Priya, I reflected on my life and how extraordinarily lucky I am. Here I am, a perfectly healthy 21-year old, able to pursue a college education with both parents and a supportive household. I have my own room, I can do whatever I please when I’m on my period (yeah, practicing Hindu girls in Nepal are not allowed to go into the kitchen during the time of the month), and have a profound number and accessibility to resources. And when it came time to do my first video interview with her mother, Priya held the camera for me as I checked the sound, and when the scorching sun left my face drenched with perspiration, she grabbed an umbrella and sat down next to me to provide shade. Though we only shared a few words, I saw so much of what I aspire to be in her. Her kindness and thoughtfulness did not require the same native tongue, and I knew at this moment, no matter what field I go into, I hope to continue to encounter girls like her who genuinely make the world a better place.
Having Father P.J. by my side through this process was also incredible, in fact, “heaven-sent” as he would say! For those of you who do not know Father P.J., he is the most compassionate, caring, and warm person I’ve ever had the good fortune of meeting. Initially I was hesitant, as he had mentioned that he had no real prior experience with a video camera, and could talk my ear off. But his presence taught me practical compassion. Always willing to give me a helping hand with open ears, he was a supportive partner. When P.J. left to join team ONergy, I initially felt fear and hesitation, as I wasn’t fully confident in my abilities to interview the women and make them as comfortable as he so easily did with his huge smile. But that fear soon transformed to confidence, with the help and support of my teammates Ash and Hannah, which propelled me to successfully accomplish all seven video profiles of the women entrepreneurs!
Through my videography and photography, I have learned that every woman working for Empower Generation has deeply appreciated the business skills that they’ve been able to learn and use practically. They all have said that they feel more confident in their abilities to speak in front of crowds, and are able to finance some of their children’s education, groceries, and medical bills. I am so honored to hear the stories of these incredible women, who inspire me to come back to Santa Clara and be the best that I can be!
So after our first 10-day in-field experience, I was asked again by a local shopkeeper, “Where are you from?” to which I replied, “I’m a Vietnamese-American from California”, and to my surprise, the shopkeeper smiled and said, “Welcome to Nepal”. It finally dawned on me that Nepal might not have the answers to all my questions, and Vietnam might not either, but I am realizing that the answers are within myself – a body of land cultivated by my mother and father. I feel so incredibly empowered by this experience. I am proud of my heritage, my unconditional love for my family and people, and most importantly, I am so incredibly proud of myself.
Thank you Miller Center for allowing me to prosper in the beautiful land of Nepal, and for affording me an opportunity of a lifetime.
