Wilmette: A Short Story

There are various places that you can choose to travel to for your vacation. In order to amazingly enjoy some exclusively traditional customs, inquisitively savor bunch of terrifying cuisines, enchantingly contemplate series of Tourist Attractions or learning about the mysterious history of a country, you may consider about Vietnam, a territory located in the Southeast Asia. Since it was oppressed one thousand years by China, one hundreds years by France, and eighty years in chaos between the U.S involvement and its own civil war, Vietnam ingurgitates all the essences form Northern, Western cultures and transform itself into a magnificent land. In this paper, I will use my own passion, my own patriotism and a set of academic resources to display a coherent reason why Vietnam should be a place to set your foot in.

Looking back out of the small window, I catch a final glimpse of corn fields and lonely railroad crossings before they dip below the horizon. For my first time on a plane, the excitement of adventure meets me as I depart from the comfort of home and enter a world unknown outside of Nebraska. Seeing the world in God’s view as the landscape evolves below, I fall in love with flying. Looking down from 30,000 feet and seeing earth on such a vast scale, I realize how much there is to discover.

The Vietnam war was an absolutely brutal time in American history. The war lasted for the majority of the 1960s and left many young men dead. The short story “The Things They Carried” by Tim O’Brien and the film Dear America: Letters Home from Vietnam give us just a glance into the war by giving using the three themes of fear, pressures, and blame/guilt to embody the concept of war and how it absolutely changes a person. War not only destroys countries, but it destroys people.

Stepping out of my first plane ride, I experience an epiphany of new culture, which seems to me as a whole new world. Buzzing around my ears are conversations in an unfamiliar language that intrigues me. It then struck me that after twenty hours of a seemingly perpetual plane ride that I finally arrived in The United States of America, a country full of new opportunities. It was this moment that I realized how diverse and big this world is. This is the story of my new life in America.

There are two distinctly different and contradictory societies in Vietnam: Saigon and the rest. “Saigon and Vietnam are as different, almost literally, as night and day.” (para. 6)

When I was fourteen, I went on a trip to Vietnam. From silence and concentration, my eyes saw motion and confusion. Men with no clothes roamed the streets, pulling rickshaws. Beggars who had cut off their hands or legs to elicit sympathy and to appeal for money. I took a deep breath to help me concentrate, but I stared into this world with an overwhelming sense of dismay. The country was dying. Out of all thoughts that a 14-year-old could conceive, my thoughts revolved around ways that I could help the fallen country. I felt a sense of responsibility to change the situation.

When I was young, I always wanted a simple life with no significant vicissitudes. I had just wanted to live selfishly on my own until I witnessed HIV-infected kids who were too guiltless to be victimized, and then the war in Syria that led to the destruction of Aleppo and countless deaths of innocent human beings. From that moment, I knew I could no longer stay still. But as soon as I decided to act, I realized the heartbreaking truth: I am living in Vietnam, a country that used to be so strong and brave but now is afraid to speak up for their rights and neglects the invaders trying to take over their land, I cannot thrive here.

After we reached Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam’s capital, we were greeted by relatives at the airport. The neon lights, humidity, motorcycles, traffic, and the smell of petroleum brought me back to my second experience in Vietnam when I was just 5 years old. I felt a rush of nostalgia as we passed through houses, restaurants, and stores of the

Squeezing out the clear, odorless water from the cloth, I hear twigs being crushed. As I turn I notice it's that blonde haired boy with those strange eyes, he has this grass green radiating out from his pupil while the rest was this nut brown. I knew him well since he was part of our family, Pure Sect, which the Prophet himself told us that God has blessed us with that name.

“Come help me unload this luggage, now” she half screamed half whispered. He walked to her and got his bags and put them next to his bed for the night. He laid out his P.J’s and put them on his bed like his mother told him to. He took a shower quickly and got ready for bed. As he was getting ready to go to bed, he heard a noise coming from the living room. He stood up and started walking. He was thinking “why did I have to come on this trip. I told her I don’t like hotels”.

People think war starts on a certain day and ends on a certain day but this never really happens. The aftermath affects the area and world that the war is never really over and because of this we are forever changed by this effects caused by war. He talks about how he grew up in a war zone and left because of a war in his home but yet he is still a fan of reading and watching war movies as an ten year old boy. In college after watching this one war movie in particular called Apocalypse Now. He questioned whether in was the one doing the killing or the one being killed. His was a turning point in his life for the first time he wondered about the political discrepancies. Overall, I learned a lot about Viet Thanh Nguyen and refugees. I learned that history is repeating itself. We as a the younger generation have the power to change the world. If you see a problem you need to stop looking at others and make the change yourself, “ believe world needs change then you need to do something,” (Nguyen). I hope to put this in practice as I continue to grow and learn as a

With clear emerald eyes illuminating with enthusiasm, the young child’s face bursts with happiness, showering down like rain as the sweet taste of excitement lingers in the air as he chases around his siblings whilst tugging on his parents’ arms. They are drained from the child’s constant yelling and their heavy eyes slowly alter to a dark shade of cerulean and fill with extreme fatigueness. Their eyes gradually begin to shut, however much they long to stay wide open. Across the parents, the two teenagers are like robots; their shoulders are slouched as they drag their feet, one step at a time, to the nearest seat, as they stay glued to their phones, unaware of the world around them. The innocent child then moves his attention to the panes of glass beside him, his eyes fill with enlightenment as he gazes at the plane outside, observing every inch of detail, in fascination. The wheels on the plane begin to take off the concrete floor. Once the plane begins to flee, disappearing into the skies above; the boy feels a sense of freedom come over him. Suddenly, the parents’ sense of hearing heightens as they hear an announcement call from the corner of the airport, informing all passengers of their flight to board. Grabbing the young child by the hand, the parents finally stand up ready to go. Their once excitement for their weekend break disappears as they dread the chaos that their young will cause aboard.

I am shock by what I am seeing now. I find myself flying in the middle of the boundless sky like an eagle. The beauty of the earth is all under my eyes now. I can see the greenish forests, the giant mountains, the empty lands, and the busy cities that are far away. But the most beautiful thing is the blue sky itself where I am in. Suddenly the next moment, I was standing on the roof of a 100-stories tall skyscraper while enjoying my expensive wine and the landscape of the city. When I look down, although I am scared of heights, I see the miniature of pedestrians and cars that are moving around. Travelling in an imagination world is probably the most joyful thing to do in the life. I don’t where I will be next yet, but it will come to my mind when it is the right time.

I shut my suitcase and wriggled it off of my bed, giving my room one last sweep before we left for the month. I spun around in anxiety ready for the 6 hour travel to what I had been waiting for all summer. The airport was crowded and I was jostled by the crowd like a fish in the current. I finally found my parents and brother and we handed the lady our tickets before boarding the plane. We found seats next to each other and sat down in comfortable silence. I saw a movie about to start and put on my headphones. Soon I was lulled to sleep by the gentle voices of the fictional, soft-spoken characters. Just before I slipped into the darkness of sleep I wondered if Padfoot was comfortable in the pet section. When I woke up I was being shaken by my mother, who was pointing at James while talking on the phone. I grabbed James and both of our bags, while my parents grabbed theirs. We got off the plane and outside. We called a taxi to pick us up and went to the car dealership. By this time James had woken up and was playing on my phone. They finally left and got into a purple mustang with green stripes on the front. I gently took my phone back and checked the time. It was four thirty. I knew that Disney World wasn’t far and rolled my window down before giving back my phone and taking a nap.

I held on tight to my passport, nervously staring at the boarding pass in my hand. I was anxious, I started to shake impatiently while waiting for our flight to board. It was Tuesday, December 20th today, it seemed like any other day, but after today I felt my life would change forever since it is my seventeenth birthday.