Where I lay
Was not a bedroom or snuggled up against loving kin
Was not greeted by warm sunlight through a window
I lay upon ground, not grass but gravel,
Bodies huddled up against me like neighbours without walls nor privacy
But neighbours nonetheless, cold, shaking bodies of refuge-seeking friends
Huddled together, hungry and scared, on the gravel that would let us attempt to rest
Though these neighbours were familiar, they were not known
Only people in similar situations as I, seeking love and peace, and escape
From war and guns that created our bedtime ambiance
Because we were strangers in our own homelands, no vietnamese in Vietnam
No welcome or warmth in wartime
But as I turned onto my other side, I felt alright, as there lay
My mother, the one who named me and lives for me,
So I live for her too. Although right now I do not know
What the future holds, if it holds me in it
I will learn from her, learn how to nestle up to my children
Make them feel loved, warm, less scared,
Nestling love and family on the gravel bed of a warzone
Where we floated
On waters unkind, on a boat crowded with fearful neighbours,
Fearful but full of hope,
We had no single destination in mind, only
Visions of refuge, safety, calmness, peace,
Visions without persecution, without violence, not in the belly of war
Our boat had no guns, no beds, no calmness, no power,
A boat solely of people seeking a place of refuge,
We looked not like safety to them, those who
Settled on our homelands with their guns, clothes meant to camouflage them into the land
It seemed as though we were the enemies now, though we were the ones fleeing
On a boat, in unknown waters, with little food or hope,
Only keeping each other alive, holding on to
Each other until we’d reach
Land, refuge land.
This poetic piece is inspired by Kim Thuy’s Ru and Duc Nguyen’s Bolinao 52, and the journeys of refugees and migrants, especially those seeking refuge, safety and homelands during and after the Vietnam War. Through Thuy’s novel and Nguyen’s documentary film, my worldviews shifted to the fight and hardships struggled through by Vietnam refugees, enduring horrendous travels, threats to/ends of livelihood, and days filled with little to no food, water, or rescue. Though I feel that it is problematic for people to write on experiences not their own, and I do not intend to say this as justification or defense, the words written are echos of the stories and narratives shared in these resources, and are not my own lived stories. I wish only to uplift these voices of resistant and resilience, and to try to make known the struggles lived through, though not for all, for refugees to find a safe place.
Keywords: poetry, refugee, migrant justice, transnational feminism
Author: DjangoJane
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