So I read an interesting
article on Slate the other day about the formula used for major motion pictures.
Thinking my recent trip to the States could be a movie I decide to write the experience based on the 15 key story “beats”.
(Opening image) So flashback to summer 2012 when my family left France: long goodbyes and promises to have my in-laws come to the States.
Back to this summer: Me tasked with the execution of these promises [not made by me].
(Theme is stated) Knowing that this would be like the
reverse version of my family coming to France where nobody speaks the
local language and everyone has different and incompatible objectives, I
set out to find the best compromise between the needs of my in-laws
[peek into real American way of life], husband [visit American
firehouse], my parents [showing off the new in-laws], and mine [bad
reality t.v. time].
(Set-up) So off we were with Iceland air which allowed us a
free layover in Iceland for 4 days but unfortunately made us fly into
Boston first with only a 2 hour layover to make the connecting flight to
D.C.. This sounded like plenty of time to my in-laws but I knew that
it wasn’t because we had to get through immigration, collect our bags,
re-check in to get our tickets, and traverse Boson’s giant airport to
find our gate.
With some luck [in-laws ran into people who spoke French and helped
them accelerate through the immigration line] and determination [read:
me pleading with people in front of us at security checkpoint to let us
cut] we made it by the skin of our teeth.
When we landed in Reagan I breathed a sigh of relief that I was now home free.
Except I wasn’t because it started storming and we weren’t allowed to get off the plane. We spent another 2 hours waiting.
When they finally let us off I thought to myself, finally!
Except
not really because when we got to baggage claim our bags weren’t
there. Speaking with the person at the baggage claim counter [who spoke
French!] revealed that although we made it on to our plane, our bags
did not and had been put on a later flight. Except that flight was
delayed due to the storm and possibly canceled.
Weary and tired from being in transit for over 24 hours we decided to leave and deal with it the next day.
When
we got to my parents house my mother had graciously prepared a
fantastic dinner for us [I had been missing home cooked Vietnamese food
like woah]. Before we ate my mother wanted me to translate something
for her to my mother in law.
My mom: Present! [hands my mother in law a small box]
Mother in law: Oh! Xank you! [opens the box to find a necklace].
My mom: [something in Vietnamese to me]
Me: [in French] She said this necklace has two meanings.
My mom: [Vietnamese]
Me: The first is that the stone is your birthstone.
My mom: [Vietnamese]
Me: The second is that there are two stones.
My mom: [Vietnamese]
Me: This represents you and your husband.
My mom: [Vietnamese]
Me: …
My mom: [Vietnamese, more insistent]
Me: …
[Everyone stares at me expectantly]
Me: She wants you to consider this trip your second honeymoon.
Mother in law: Oh… Xank you.
My mom: [grabs my in-laws hands and puts them together so that they are now holding hands across the table]
Me: …
My mom: [giant smile]
And so our adventure begins.
(Catalyst) So
when I initially told my mom I would be bringing my in-laws to the
States, she told me she wanted to throw us a one year wedding
celebration dinner.
To this I thought, why not? Seemed like a nice opportunity to see
people all at once and to celebrate with people who weren’t able to make
it to the wedding in France. What I didn’t want, however, was it to be
a second reception. My mother assured me it wasn’t.
The party was to be held the day after we arrived. That morning my mom went over the evening with me:
Mom: So at 7pm the guests arrive
Me: How many people are coming?
Mom: Not that many
Me: How many?
Mom: 70
Me: 70????
Mom: Yeah
Me: …
Mom: So the MC…
Me: There’s an MC?
Mom: Yeah don’t worry she speaks English and French
Me: …
Mom: So she’ll present everyone. Afterwards we’ll start eating. Here’s a list of the 9 courses.
Me: There are 9 courses?
Mom: Yeah but no wine. I don’t want people to drink and drive.
Me: [Wondering how I’m going to get through the evening without something to take off the edge]
Mom: So I thought around the 4th course we can bring out the magician.
Me: There’s a magician???
Mom: Yeah for the kids. Anyways afterwards the band will start playing.
Me: There’s a band???
Mom: Yeah. I told them to bring two guitars so you guys can play a song together!
Me: Uh…
Mom: And then cake.
Me: You mean dessert.
Mom: Yes but you and Husband have to cut it first.
Me:...
So
yeah basically it was a second reception. But it was too late to do
anything about it plus I had to go pick up the bags at the airport least
I wear my brother’s shorts and a t-shirt to my second reception.
The evening went as my mother had planned. Well, kind of.
People arrived at around 7pm and I was shuffled around from person to person where I had some variation of this conversation.
Them: Do you remember me? I’m a cousin of your second oldest aunt’s father’s grandmother.
Me: [Smiling politely]
Them: We met when you were 7!
Me: Oh.. right.
Someone holding a camera: Say cheese!
I
was finally pulled away from this by one of my friends who alerted to
me the fact that there weren’t enough seats for everyone. I went to
investigate.
Me: Mom there’s not enough seats.
Mom: Sure there is.
Me: No. Look.
Mom: No the kids sit at the kids table!
Me: Mom they’re all under 3 years old!
Mom: Yes. Kids table!
Me: …
I
complained to my sister who told me my mom’s tactic was to “stuff”
people. Like one would stuff socks in a full suitcase. We ignored this
stuffing advice and managed to re-arrange things and keep families
together.
Finally we were all seated and the MC presented my in-laws and my
family except my sister and instead presented someone named Nancy who
apparently is my sister [my sister’s name is not Nancy] and her 5 kids
[my sister has 4 kids].
After the two families were presented the MC continued on to the
next table and started introducing everyone at that table. Yes the MC
was going to announce Every. Single. Guest.
One. At. A. Time.
My brain flashed back to a weird moment I had that morning.
Mom: [holding pencil and pen] Write down all the names of your friends who are coming for me.
Me: What why?
Mom: So we can introduce people.
Me: What?
Mom: At your party.
Me: [too jet-lagged to deal with it] It’s ok don’t worry about it.
I should have put two and two together but seriously, everyone? At
least I didn’t give her the info reducing the delay in eating by at
least 10 minutes. The MC simply referred to the tables as “The young
people’s tables”.
So finally we started eating but instead of enjoying the meal with
my in-laws and family I ended up making painful conversation in limited
Vietnamese with a friend of my mom’s. She was seated at our table
probably due to my mom’s “stuffing” tables tactic. I finally managed to
sneak away when the magician began his show.
While chatting with friends my sister approached me to see if
someone could improvise a song on the guitar. Apparently she and my
nieces had planned to sing it for us. The band, unfortunately did not
know the song nor did they seem to be able to wing it [which did not
surprise me as they were playing with their instruments completely out
of tune]. It was finally decided that my cousin would do it. I was
excited for the first time that evening. When after several songs and
still no niece performance I went to ask my sister when they were going
to sing.
Sister: Um. The guy said they need “strong” singers.
Me: Huh? What guy?
Sister: That guy [points to guy singing badly in stage]
Me: …
Niece: Mommy when are we going to sing?
Sister: Soon.
Niece: You said that already.
Sister: [looks at me]
Niece: You promised [tears forming]
Me: [getting angry. Finds guy]
Me: Excuse me are you in charge?
Guy: Sorry I don’t speak English [in pretty good English]
Me: [In terrible Vietnamese] They’re next, right? [points to nieces]
Guy: [Looking uncomfortable] Ok
The most adorable rendition of “When you say nothing at all” ensued.
By
this time most of the guests had left and I went to find husband only
to find him dancing with one of my mom’s friends awkward highschool dance style
[She later told me how lucky I was to have such a tall and handsome
husband]
I danced instead with my youngest niece who was only 2 months at my
wedding a year ago and was now 14 months. It felt different to hold her
that night than it did almost a year ago.
Later I joined my husband and his parents as they drank tea and took in the evening. I asked him what he thought.
“I feel like I’m in a dream”
I feel like that sums things up pretty well.
(Debate) Lately
husband and I have been discussing the pros and cons of staying in
France or living in the United States. Having been away for a while I
had forgotten the Vietnamese aspect of the “live in the States” choice.
Another dimension to the culture shock my husband would face should
we decided to move to the States. Where families are strongly
implicated in each other’s decisions and lives [sometimes obtrusively
so] - a far cry from my in-law’s laissez-faire attitude.
That evening I was fully reminded of it and my husband and my
in-laws got a crash course in it. I wondered to myself if seeing my
crazy family in their full glory would be marked down as a “con” or were
they entertaining enough to be considered a “pro” for coming to the
States?
Even I had to decide.
(Break into Act II) So with the
“show off the new in-laws” box ticked, we were now free to move on to
the next phase which was to give my in-laws a peek into American way of
life. Only, what really is the American way of life?
I took them to a giant discount mall. My mom came with us.
While
they were rummaging through the Levis outlet like kids in a candy shop,
I noticed my mom wasn’t around anymore. My father in law told me she
left the store and went into the store next door. I went in to find her
with no luck.
Maybe it was another store he thought. What he was sure of was that
she told him that she was heading off in “that” direction. After
waiting twenty minutes for her to come back I decided that this was
probably the last thing my in-laws wanted to do on their vacation so I
told them to continue without me (they had my mom’s cell phone hence the
reason I couldn’t call her).
I stayed put and waited, ninety-five percent of me not surprised she
would be so immersed in her own world shopping and clueless to the time
passing and five percent of me freaking out that maybe, just maybe
something did happen to her.
Ten minutes later I see her wondering out of Ann Taylor. “Look at these great pants I just bought!” she said.
Relief and anger ensued.
She
made it up to us that night by steaming Maryland blue crabs for
everyone to eat. I had never seen my in-laws eat crab before and it was
quite hilarious.
Other activities for the in-laws involved D.C. sights, Georgetown
[mmm cupcakes], old town [mmmm ice cream], Mount Vernon [they biked],
baseball game [they left early] and Virginia wine tasting [they were not
impressed].
---
(B-story) So husband had been in contact with a
French fireman living in the States to learn more about possibilities of
doing that himself should we move to the States. With his parents
occupied for the day and me as well he decided to go see the guy at his
firehouse. Except I needed the car and the firehouse was a good 30
minutes walk away. I could drop him off but then how would he get back?
We decided he could bike there. Except the bike had flat tires.
Get there was ok [downhill] but getting back was horrible [uphill +
afternoon sun – it was about 100 degrees outside].
Still he was
happy. While visiting the firehouse the alarm went off and instead of
ending the visit short they invited husband to come with him.
This is how I imagine the scene: Husband wearing a fire helmet,
tongue hanging out [like a Dalmatian] head out the window of a fast
moving fire truck with sirens blaring.
They even gave him a fireman t-shirt at the end of his visit.
(Fun and games) As for me, I was tired. From organizing to
translating to shuffling people from place to place, I needed a break.
So when I was finally able to get my friends together for a HH I asked
one of my friends if I could use her pool beforehand (she lived close by
to the HH place we choose).
It was great. I got there, heated up some chili and planted myself
in front of her giant high definition flat screen t.v. and watched Desperate Housewives of Orange County.
I finally pulled myself away
to get in some pool time before having to head out to the HH. The sun
was shining and the water cooling. There were people around but I don’t
have to worry about what they were doing: if they were ok, if they were
happy, if they were being understood. I just had to worry about me.
Absolute bliss.
(Midpoint) So the main reason we
choose the dates we did for coming to the States was so that my in-laws
could experience the 4th of July. Only every local knows that the best
way to spend the 4th of July is to eat too much at someone else’s BBQ and
avoiding the hot mess that is the 4th of July in D.C.
But of course when my in-laws said they wanted to see real America
what they really wanted was to see was things that re-affirm images of
America that they’ve seen over the years in movies. So off we were for
the 4th of July in D.C.
On the way from the metro to the parade my in-laws bought over
priced American flag bandanas and wore them. I wondered to myself how
they would have felt if
1. I wore a bandana in any circumstances
2. Had a French flag on my head for Bastille Day
I’ve never seen the 4th of July parade and not particularly a big
fan of parades but it wasn’t too bad as we were nice and cool under a
tree. Plus I got to see my mom who was in the parade as part of the
Vietnamese community. I later asked her if she saw me [I was jumping
up and down to get her attention].
No, she said she was too busy looking at the other women because she
never went to practice and had no idea how the dance she was doing
really went.
My mother –in –law loved every single minute of it.
She took a picture of everything even all the high school marching
bands [although the one using glittered gun shaped batons was camera
worthy]. The camera ran out of battery just as the parade ended.
As for the fireworks I choose to go see them at Cardoza High School
as I didn’t want to take everyone into the wasp’s nest that is the mall
for 4th of July fireworks.
When we got to there, the school
was completely blocked off due to construction. Fortunately there were
apartment buildings across from the school with a lawn. We made
ourselves comfortable and waited.
Around 9pm the fireworks started except they weren’t where we
thought they would be [right underneath the national monument] but more
to the right of our view at exactly the same spot where a giant crane
happened to be. We [and everyone else] stood up to see. It was ok
until people started climbing the crane.
So we watched the fireworks behind a giant crane and people’s
heads. But it wasn’t a big loss beacause my in-laws were not very
impressed with the fireworks since they prefer the more elegant
fireworks in France [versus the “big” and “lots” approach in the
States].
On the walk down the hill and to the metro we saw the other
fireworks that were going on in Arlington and Alexandria. Pretty cool.
(Bad guys close in) So
I had two friends that were out of town for about a week during our
stay in the States and they both graciously allowed us to stay at their
apartments. Until then we were all staying at my parents place. I was
thinking that my in-laws could sleep on the downstairs futon and I
could sleep in my old room and hcould sleep in my brother’s room
and my brother would stay with my sister. This arrangement would only
be for a couple of nights.
My parents insisted instead that my in-laws take their room, they
take the downstairs futon and husband and I sleep in my old room.
Except my old room has a single bed.
No it’s ok now said my mom, I fixed it.
Turns out she placed a shelf like thing plus cushions on top to
extend the bed. Except a cushion isn’t the same thing as a mattress so
eventually it just became a giant dip between the wall and bed. I’ve
never been a cuddly sleeper but I became one, fast. Here is the
following conversation I had with my sister about it:
Sister: So who’s sleeping in the hole?
Me: Oh you know about that
Sister: Oh yeah I fell in it trying to breastfeed!
Me: [sigh]
Sister: I told mom to take my extra double and put it in that room but she said it was fine and that she tested it.
Me: Tested it?
Sister: She said she slept there and it was ok except for maybe her shoulder
Me: So she had problems as a 100 lb 5’ woman by herself and thought it was fine for me and my husband who is 6’3.
Sister: Guess so.
So yeah, not only was the sleeping arrangement not the best but my
mother was tripping over herself trying to please my in-laws, waiting on
them hand and foot and giving them gifts every day. I could tell they
were getting uncomfortable with the special treatment. In top of that
there’s only so much conversation you can force when nobody really
speaks the same language.
Everyone was starting to need their own space. I moved everyone out as fast as I could.
(All is lost) Having
moved us into the Arlington apartment and the in-laws into the D.C.
apartment I finally had some time to do my own thing. I had planned to
spend the day at my sister’s and then BBQ at a friend’s place. Husband
took his parents to a baseball game. We decided he was probably the most
likely to come back first so I gave him the keys to the apartment.
I came back that night and couldn’t wait to go to bed after a long day with my nieces and having eaten way too much at the BBQ.
Just
a note about the apartment: It’s on the first floor and there’s a door
to the apartment complex and then the apartment door. The apartment
door is one of those doors that lock when you close it from the outside.
Why is this important? When husband greeted me at the apartment
complex door I noticed that the apartment door behind him was closed.
Me: Um, you have the key right?
Husband: No why? [looks behind him]
Me: You’re kidding right?
Husband: [Turns back around with a look of disbelief] It wasn’t closed when I walked out…
Me: …
Not
ready to accept the impossible situation I told husband, who was in his
pajamas and shoeless, to stay put and I would go around to see if
maybe, just maybe there was a window open or something.
I went around to the back and started to try all the windows. When
none of them budged I peeked in only to find a dog staring back at me.
That’s weird, I thought, my friend doesn’t have a dog.
I was effectively trying to break into the neighbor’s apartment.
I got husband quickly into the car before someone called the cops on
me and went to hide out at my sister’s (It was 2am at this point and I
know my brother in law sleeps late).
The next morning I called a
locksmith who quoted us 150 dollars to open the door. Hoping for a less
expensive option I emailed my friend asking if there was a spare key
somewhere.
She asked me if I lost her keys. Oh right… I’m the girl that loses everything.
After I re-assured her that we weren’t irresponsible, just idiots I called the locksmith to make an appointment:
Guy: What’s your address?
Me: Oh wait a minute [finds address in email and states address but mispronounces the street name]
Guy: You mean [correct pronunciation]
Me: Right
Guy: And the zip code?
Me: Uh… hold on [puts the address in google maps for the zip code. States zip code]
Guy: Is this your apartment m’am?
Me: No I’m house sitting for a
friend and I locked the keys inside [wondering what we were going to do
if they refused since all our stuff was in the apartment and my friend
wasn’t coming back for another 4 days]
Fortunately they agreed to come. Unfortunately the locksmith is not
allowed to open the apartment complex door only the apartment door
itself. It was 9am on the Sunday morning. I tried ringing for all the
neighbors but nobody answered.
Locksmith: [opens the apartment complex door – quite easily actually] You did’t see that.
Me: See what?
[We all go in]
Locksmith: [takes out some tools I’ve seen burglars use in movies and begins making a rukus]
[Older woman neighbor pokes head out]
Me: [Oh NOW you come out] Hi.
Neighbor: [stares]
Me: [putting on my innocent voice] I’m a friend of Megan’s.
Neighbor: [stares]
Me: We’re staying here while she’s away and we locked ourselves out [oh shucks look].
Neighbor: [stops staring at me and starts staring at the locksmith] He’s going to break the lock.
Locksmith: I’m not going to break the lock. I’m state licensed.
Neighbor: [looks at him and then back at me] You should go to the head office.
Me: [There’s a head office?] Oh. Ok.
Locksmith: M’am it’s fine, either way they have to pay me and I guarantee you I will not break the lock.
Neighbor:
[looks at him and then back at me. Lowers voice] The office is over
on the others side. [lowers voice even more] Opens at 10.
But this wasn’t needed as the locksmith opened the door as promised without any damage to the lock.
(Dark night of the soul) So
as much as we wanted to relish being on the inside of the apartment, we
had to hurry if we were going to be on time to pick up my in-laws from
the metro.
When we got to the metro they hadn’t arrived yet. 10 minutes later
they were still not there. 20 minutes passed, 25 minutes…30 minutes…
As
I sat there in the car sweltering in 100 degree weather, I wondered to myself, was
I crazy for agreeing to this trip? All that translating from English
to French to Vietnamese to English to Vietnamese to French. Always
negotiating, explaining, organizing, planning, deciding. Picking people
up from here from there from everywhere. Hustling people around so
they can have a good time, damn it!
I suddenly realized what my sister’s life must be like. Mad props.
(Break into Act III) So
my brother in law knows a guy who lets us rent his beach house and we
try to go every year. This year we were taking my in-laws. My mother
wanted to invite my sister’s in-laws as well using her “stuffing people”
tactic. They had thankfully declined [probably realizing the
people/beds math didn’t work out].
We arrived to pouring down rain. I introduced the in-laws to Jinga. There were 4 players:
Me: The only normal player
Husband:
The predator. He would move around the Jinga tower on all fours trying
to stalk out the perfect piece to screw everyone over.
Mother in law: Scaredy cat. She even tried to forfeit her turn
[maybe I didn’t explain correctly the point of the game].
Brother: Too cool for school. He played with one eye on the game and one eye reading his book.
In the end it was too cool for school brother who lost.
The
next day it continued to pour so we had to look for indoor activities.
Luckily there were two places we could take my in-laws for the full American
experience.
We went to Hooters for lunch and Philips all you can eat for dinner.
All you can eat [at least the way Americans do it] is kind of an alien concept to the French because:
1. They take their time with food
2. They always finish their plate
3. They don’t tolerate getting stains on their clothes
As
you can see these things are incompatible with all you can eat
especially if you’re trying to get your money’s worth. But they still
the enjoyed it. When they were done [which was way before we were done]
they insisted on paying. I knew this would require a delicate touch
[read: sneaky].
Me: We’re not done eating yet but would it be possible to pay now?
Waiter: Sure
Me: Ok thanks. Could you give the check to me and me only?
Waitier: Ok…
Me: Thanks.
[Waiter returns waving around check. I quickly grab it. My dad sees]
Dad: [To my sister] They’re trying to pay!
Sister: That’s [picks up crab] ok, [rips off a leg] we [cracks it in half] can [takes out meat] pay [chew chew].
Brother
in law: Yeah [dips crab in butter] give [puts in mouth] it [chew chew]
here [tries to reach in pocket for wallet with butter covered hands]
Me: [sees my chance] Too late. [hands waiter debit card]
The
next day we happily woke up to sunshine. Motivated to finally go to
the beach I went about trying to hustle 9 adults and 4 children up and
out of the house. Not an easy task.
First I had to wait for everyone to wake up. My parents are early
risers but because this is their vacation my in-laws are not. Husband
was fast asleep due to the fact that we were exhausted from having to
switch beds all the time. Why?
The house has 3 bedrooms. My sister, her husband and her kids were
in the master bedroom with a king size + bunk bed. My parents were with
my brother in a bunk bed [bottom bunk is a double]. That left my
in-laws, husband and me in the other room with two double beds.
Except my father in law snores. Extremely loudly. We tried to sleep
through it but ended up on the couch the first night. Husband
complained of a kink in his neck the entire day.
We gave up
trying to fall asleep to loud snoring and slept on an inflatable in the
living room the next night. Not the most comfortable but we were
finally able to fall asleep… and then woken up by my parents when they
woke up at 5am. We snuck in to sleep in their bed.
While waiting for husband to get up I assisted my sister with
getting my 4 nieces into bathing suits. I was tasked with putting sun
block in them which they hate and acted like they were being tortured.
After everyone was up and ready we had to make sure we have
everything we need: umbrellas, beach chairs, cooler, food, diapers,
towels, camera, sunglasses, hats, the right color shovel for the girls
etc.
I was exhausted by the time we got out there. But out there we were and everyone was finally able to enjoy the beach.
My father-in-law maybe a little too much. He had refused sun-block
and was completely lobster red [He swore that’s how he tans]. It was so
bad he was physically shivering. Mother in law and husband were in
hysterics as I handed him the Aloe Vera.
That night we went to the boardwalk where I introduced my in-laws to
the joys of boardwalk fries, deep-fried oreos, and funnel cake.
The next day I had no problems putting sunblock on my nieces:
Me: Stay still
Niece: It hurts!
Me: Do you want to end up like that? [points to father-in-law]
Niece: [looks and freezes in fear]
Me: That’s better.
We spent the day at the beach, packed up and then headed home.
(Finale) Before heading back to my parent’s house, we went
first to my sister’s in-laws house for dinner. It would be the first
time that we were all together, my family and all in-laws.
My
sister’s mother-in-law made us a feast of korean bbq and delicious
traditional Vietnamese dessert chè. While we were eating my dad
suddenly got up and abruptly went outside.
Turns out he had taken out his false teeth, wrapped it up in a
napkin, and thought he put it in his pocket but now could not find it so
he went looking for it. Having finished eating I went out to help
him. I found him combing through my sister’s minivan inspecting all
traces of white paper napkins. This was going to take a while.
When we went through all napkins in the car [and with 4 kids, there
were lots] and didn’t find anything my brother in law came up with the
hypothesis that maybe my sister threw in their giant garbage bin when
she cleaned out the car on their way in.
Him: Don’t worry we’ll look for it. We need to do it now before it gets dark.
Me: [Realizes he talking to me]
Him: Ready?
Me: [Uh to pick through garbage? No] Ok
Despite our efforts we didn’t find it. We gave up and went back to my parent’s house. My dad found it on arrival:
Dad: Hey I found it!
Me: What? Where?
Dad: In my
other pocket. Ha ha ha ha.
Me: …
Dad : [looks down at his feet] Wait, these aren’t my shoes !
See,
in most Asian households you take off /put on your shoes when
entering/leaving the house. My dad had taken my brother’s shoes by
mistake when he left my sister’s in-law’s house.
(Final image) The beach trip marked the ending of our
adventure in the States and we soon packed up our things, our bags [and
lives] fuller and richer by the experience.
At the airport we gave awkward hugs [hugging is not really a Vietnamese or French thing] and final words of departure.
In-laws: Xank you very much. Next time come to France!
Mother: When baby comes!
Everyone: [laughs]
Me: …
