Vietgone

“It’s just the thought—the idea of marrying you, being your bride, committing myself to you, it makes me want to…well…kill myself.”

When Tong says this to Giai, she’s beginning to acknowledge and explore the ways in which she values her own independence. She understands that Giai loves her, but she also questions how marrying him would impact her independence and therefore hesitates to commit.

“THU. Quang, do you not know anything about children?

QUANG. Well, no. It’s not like I’ve really had the chance.”

One of the greatest sources of Quang’s pain and his desire to return to his children is the fact that he doesn’t know them because of the time he spent fighting in the war. When Thu visits him and tells him that his gifts for the children would be inappropriate, the impact of his inability to spend time with them really sinks in.

“We can’t just bail on them. Who knows what those commie bastards will do? For all we know, they’ll just bury all these people. Is that what you want?”

Nhan is frequently a voice of reason for Quang, as in this instance, when he convinces Quang not to abandon the people around them to capture by the Viet Cong and to instead save them before going to save his family. By doing so, Nhan and Quang save many lives, but their actions result in Quang’s separation from his family.

“WE GET TO AMERICA BY ANY DESPERATE MEANS

‘CAUSE THEY SAY THEY’LL TAKE THE POOR AND THE WEAK

BUT DOES THAT GO FOR REFUGEES THAT LOOK LIKE ME

PEEPS REMINDING THEM OF THEIR ENEMY?”

In this song, Tong questions how life as a refugee will be in America. She acknowledges the situation’s probable hypocrisy: America will likely treat her and other Vietnamese refugees poorly because of the implications of the Vietnam War, despite the US being founded on the principle of accepting refugees and immigrants.

“Okay, fine, one of us can speak an elementary level of English—congratulations—being able to say ‘Hi, hello, that is the library,’ will make all the difference. But this is a very serious situation. I’m not letting my only living daughter out of my sight—”

Huong criticizes Tong for learning English and for her desire to assimilate and move in with a foster family to begin her new life in the US. Although Huong wants to return to Vietnam, she also doesn’t want to separate from Tong and is therefore stuck between her duty to her daughter and a longing for home.

“Mom, I didn’t ‘drag you here.’ We were days away from being overrun by the Viet Cong, my job at the embassy offered me two tickets to America, I gave you one of those tickets—to, you know, SAVE YOU.”

Huong doesn’t seem to understand why she and Tong are in the US and why they can’t return, and this frustrates Tong. Tong used her job and connections to save them from the Viet Cong (and from a situation that would have been dire for Tong, who worked for the US embassy). Huong’s lack of appreciation angers and hurts her.

“CAPTAIN CHAMBERS. Me am pirate king hi-ho Midway. Here yellow banana ventriloquist.

TRANSLATOR. ‘Greetings, I’m Captain Chambers of the USS Midway and this fine motherfucker right here is my translator.’”

Throughout Vietgone, Americans speak in nonsensical ways, usually stringing together sentences through colloquial phrases and racist sentiments. In this excerpt, the Translator works to establish communication between Captain Chambers and Quang, demonstrating how the linguistic disconnect manifests for Vietnamese-speaking refugees and how translation filters out racism.

“MY COUNTRY’S NOW FALLEN, A NEW MISSION’S NOW CALLING,

AMERICA’S WITHDRAWN, MY CALL’S TO FINALLY COME HOME AND

TRADE IN MY GUN FOR MY SON, MY SOLDIER’S LIFE’S NOW DONE

GOT 99 PROBLEMS BUT THE WAR AIN’T ONE.”

The fall of Saigon ends the Vietnam War, and Quang no longer needs to fight. He assumed that when the war ended, he’d return to his family, but since the US has left and he’s a refugee, he’s even more separated. He knows that the war is over but feels as though his own struggle has just begun.

“WHERE THE HELL AM I GOING

I DON’T KNOW BUT I’M KNOWING

HOWEVER IMPOSSIBLE THIS IS

I’LL MAKE THIS PLACE MY NEW HOMELAND.”

While Quang sings about needing to find a way home to his family, Tong sings about beginning a new life in the US. These two are foils for much of Vietgone: Each works toward a new future after the war, but Quang seeks to return to the past and his family, while Tong sees opportunity and independence ahead.

“Listen, man, I spent eighteen months here in ’68 learning how to fly down in Lackland Air Force Base. They barely like each other. Look how the white ones treat the black ones here and they’re all from the same country.”

One of the challenges for the refugees in Vietgone is that they must adjust to the racist attitudes of many Americans toward them. As Quang explains to Nhan, it isn’t surprising that they face this because of the deep roots of racism that already exist in the US.

“Do you see what they feed us? Meat. Just plates of meat. And vegetables that have been so deep fried they only taste like grease and salt.”

As the many characters adjust to life in the US, they face the pressure of assimilating both linguistically and culturally. For Huong, one of the struggles of assimilation is American food, which starkly differs from Vietnamese food.

“It’s not that kind of foster family. It’s a program where I live in an American home for six months and they help me get a job, find my own place, assimilate to the culture.”

Upon arriving in the US, Tong focuses on making a new life for herself. Her first step is to find a foster family so that she can find a job and a place to live, and can begin building an independent life centering on herself and her desires. She explains the foster family program to her mother, Huong, who struggles to understand how this is a good thing for her daughter and wonders what will happen to her if she and Tong are separated.

“JUST KILL MY THOUGHTS, MAKE ME NUMB

DESTROY THE MEMORIES OF WHAT WENT WRONG

WRAP YOUR SMOKE AROUND MY THROAT

CHOKE ME OUT SO I WON’T KNOW.”

When Quang smokes marijuana with Hippie Dude, he hopes that it will grant him momentary peace from the pain he feels because of his separation from his family. He wants to be numb and take a break from the mounting pressure.

“I mean—no offense—maybe you’re not, maybe it’s just the weed talking, but right now you sound dumb as a motherfucker. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quang says this to Hippie Dude in response to Hippie Dude’s assertion that the US should never have been involved in Vietnam. For Quang, it’s a personal matter: Not only is he from Vietnam, but he also fought against the Viet Cong. Quang has experienced war and its effect on families, including the very real threat to lives that the US presence helped save. He grows angry over Hippie Dude’s assumption that his opinions mean more than Quang’s experiences.

“What we did was not make love. There was no ‘love’ between these sheets. There was some stress, a bit of rage, and a shitload of frustration, but love had nothing to do with what we just did.”

Similar to how Quang uses marijuana to deal with the pressures and pain of being a refugee, Tong approaches the sex they have as an outlet. She believes that they have sex not because of romantic feelings but because of a need to release stress and rage resulting from the hardships they face.

“I just haven’t seen them very much. You know there being a war and all, I’ve probably spent a total of two months with them their whole lives.”

Once again, Quang acknowledges that his relationship with his children is nearly nonexistent because of his time fighting in the Vietnam War. His duties kept him away so much that he barely spent any time with them, and after fighting in the war, hoping to preserve a better future with them, he’s now an ocean away.

“‘Cause this place doesn’t have my kids, man. It ain’t about burritos or safety or even a girl…all that shit is just camouflage, but as much camo as you can put on it, it still doesn’t hide the fact that it’s covering up one big ol’ hole that should be occupied by two little kids that look like me.”

When Nhan tries to convince Quang to stay in the US, Quang pushes back, saying that all the great things they find in the US pale in comparison to his need to be with his children. Quang feels that his life can’t continue without them: They’re his purpose.

“You know what I ‘get’? I get a new lease on life. That’s what I get. Because, unlike my brother, I was able to escape Vietnam easily because I had no problem leaving behind the guy who was ‘in love with me.’”

Tong views her new life in the US as a direct result of her not having a love interest that can hold her back like it did her brother. This in many ways contributes to her continued resolve to not become romantically involved with Quang in the US: She fears that any relationship will hinder her independence.

“Clearly America isn’t turning out to be like its travel brochure, but it offers me something Vietnam didn’t—it offers me the chance to be me.”

Again, Tong sees life in the US as a chance to reinvent herself and to make a new life centering on herself instead of others. One of the reasons that she didn’t marry Giai was her concern that she might lose herself, and now that she has the opportunity to pursue an independent life, she wants to take it.

“Listen to me—I’m young, I have Pham, I have no connections to the South Vietnamese military, I’ll be fine. But my big sister needs you. She may never say it, she may act like a total ass all the time, but down deep, she needs her mommy. You have to go.”

Khue explains to Huong, his mother, why she must go with Tong to the US, and his words helps Huong understand what kind of mother she must be for Tong. Tong is stoically independent and acts as though she doesn’t need anyone, but Khue understands that his sister does need support and that if he can’t go with her and provide it, Huong must go in his place.

“No, dummy. Because of you. You’re awesome. You make me…well, you make me want to wake up every morning just to be able to hang out with you.”

When Quang says this to Tong, they both begin to realize that their relationship has grown beyond the mere physical realm and toward romance. Quang sees Tong as someone with whom he shares trust and understanding: He leans on her for support and feels more comfortable in her presence.

“To you, if you go back, whether you die or get locked up, the only person here who gets anything out of your ‘heroic act’ is you. You get to feel like a hero, but for them, all you will be is a reminder that they’re not allowed to move on.”

Nhan finally convinces Quang that he can’t return to Vietnam because it will do more harm than good for his family. He calls out Quang’s need to feel like a hero and his inability to see what’s best for his family and how best to care for them. He encourages Quang to stay and let his family heal after losing him.

“And to Vietnamese, the war was not political, it was real. It not something we choose or not choose to be in. The Viet Cong was killing us, stealing what we work so hard to have.”

In the Epilogue, Quang explains to the Playwright what the Vietnam War means to him and others who lived through it. The threat of the Viet Cong was real to him, and he disagrees with the notion that the US shouldn’t have been involved: His fighting wasn’t politically motivated. His experience was one of mortal danger.