Final: Me, my research, my travels

After numerous hours of walking, several painful blisters, and a whole lot of pictures later, I was able to experience a small part of Berlin, but quite an important one. My research truly helped develop me into a traveler. I had to put myself out there in the city, talk to people and observe their movements, expressions and interactions. I travelled to places I was not familiar with and just let myself get lost. In my disorientation, I discovered a whole other side of Berlin, the unguided one. My hand hung by my side, held by no one and led by no one. I was independent and I explored. I found my research everywhere I went. Berlin was a city of Vietnamese people. In my last performance, I was able to show this idea through both movements and still frames. I showed the place I saw and the people I knew. To me, they were the city and very much a part of Germany.

My research concerns the minority experience in Germany with a focus on the Vietnamese community. While studying in Berlin, I was able to learn new facts about German immigration policies and integration projects, but more importantly I discovered the many unheard stories of the Vietnamese people. Before diving into my research in Berlin, I had prepared myself by reading old newspapers, selected chapters from books, and journalistic articles about the Vietnamese life in Germany. I learned about the history of the guest workers and the refugees. The differences between the two groups were my main interest. The guest workers were North Vietnamese who had work contracts with the Soviets in the East while the refugees were South Vietnamese who were seeking political asylum in the West. Both groups integrated into German society in fairly different manners. I gathered all of these facts about the Vietnamese community and then formed my interview questions. To my surprise, I never used many of those questions. Instead, I sat down and had personal conversations with the individuals that I interviewed. I listened as these people recollect on their immigration journey and life story. My intimate glimpse into these people’s lives and my new knowledge about German law and society acquired from an actual German immigration officer was more than I had expected for my research. I talked to East and West Berliners, professionals and non-professionals. Their stories and my own observations of the city not only helped with my research, but it contributed to my overall travel experience in Berlin.



When I first arrived in Germany, I was worried about my research. I did not know whether I would find people to interview or if they would even talk to me. I had a lot of doubts, but they dissipated as soon as I discovered that my research was just right around the corner. Near my apartment, there was a small neighborhood plaza where I went to eat tasty doners and buy groceries. It was my first time walking to Kaiser when I noticed the large orange sign that said NAILS. Although I tried hard to suppress the typical American stereotype that most nail salons are own by Vietnamese people, I could not help but wonder if a Vietnamese person owned that place. I crossed the street to have a closer look and the small letters underneath the word NAILS proved my prediction to be right. I did not go in, but this encounter with a small Vietnamese business sparked a new confidence in me. From then on, it seemed as if my research was right at my fingertip. It was in the metro that I rode on everyday, the streets I walked through, and the stores I shopped at. Everywhere I went I was able to find a Vietnamese person and all I needed was to strike up a conversation.




The train screeched to a stop and I stepped out into new territory. This was the dreaded metro stop between Alexanderplatz and Friedrichstrabe, the one I had to wait through each time I travelled to Humboldt University. I got off at Hackescher Markt and wandered the streets. I found another nail place called Rosa Nails. This time, I decided to go in. A short Asian lady, who looked to be in her mid 50’s, greeted me. There were two other Asian women, one of which was busy with a German customer. They all looked at me and perhaps it was the small room and the staring eyes that blurred my thinking. The next thing I did was asked the lady if she was Vietnamese in English. Of course she did not understand a word I said. I felt stupid and panicky. I was contemplating whether I should speak to her in Vietnamese, but I did not want to make assumptions. Then, the German lady intervened and asked me in English if I wanted to get my nails done. I told her that I was a student from America who was doing research on the Vietnamese people in Germany and I wanted to know if the owner was Vietnamese. She looked confused and said that the Asian ladies could not speak much German. I decided then that I should talk to the storeowner in Vietnamese. After she heard me speak, she laughed and said, “phải rồi, cô là người Việt Nam”, “Of course I am Vietnamese.” I noticed from her accent that she was North Vietnamese. I was only able to have a short conversation with her and learned that she had been living in Germany for fifteen years and was there on a work permit. When I left, I kept thinking about the interactions between the German woman and the Vietnamese ladies. There was a wall between them, a language barrier. It was obvious in this situation that Vietnamese people have not quite integrated into German society.

Part of my itinerary for my research was to go talk with people in restaurants and stores. I went to the Asian market in Alexanderplaz. The sight of large, plastic rice bags and the distinct smell of raw meats and fresh vegetables hit me as I entered. It was a smell I knew too well from the many times I went grocery shopping with my parents. I browsed through the instant noodles simultaneously scanning the room for a Vietnamese person. My ears heard the familiar sounds and perked up. I listened as two men discussed their night. When they were finished, I came over to one young man with golden blond hair and an eye piercing. I explained that I was doing research on the Vietnamese community and wanted to talk to him. He said that he was busy, but next door there was a person that might be able to talk to me.



I headed over to the place next to the Asian market, which turned out to be a sushi bar. Later on I would discover that Vietnamese people owned nearly all the Asian restaurants in Berlin and sushi bars were the more popular ones. As I walked up the wooden step, I saw an Asian man sit at a table smoking. The stoop in his shoulder and the gray in his hair reflected his old age. He had a somber expression on his face. Each time he let out a cloud of white smoke, his eyes would intensely stare down at the table as if he was trying to see through it. He noticed me and looked over. In Vietnamese, I asked him if he could talk to me about his experience living in Germany. He said he was busy, but pointed me to a young man nearby. The young man and I introduced each other and then sat down at the table to talk. It was my first long conversation with a Vietnamese person. I learned that his mom had immigrated to Germany on a work permit in 1993 and it was not until 5 years ago that he was able to come join her. I asked whether the immigration process took a long time and he said it only took a year for all the paper work to go through. We talked about his experience going to German schools and he explained that most of his Vietnamese friends do not speak their country’s language and they have adapted the German culture completely. I told him that in America there are cultural clubs such as Vietnamese club or Chinese club where students can get together to celebrate their culture. He said he had never heard of any in German schools.

After my conversation with the young man, I thought more about integration in Germany. Although it seemed that integration was unsuccessful for the older generation, it has made a huge stride in the younger generation. The children of the guest workers and refugees are losing their Vietnamese identity. In Germany, there are fewer mediums through which these children can keep their own culture alive. It is as if they can only have one or the other, be German or be Vietnamese, not Vietnamese-German. These ideas about Vietnamese identity in a German society kept lingering in my mind. Thus, I was very excited when I had chance to discuss them with Reinhard Isensee, an American studies professor at Humboldt University. Professor Isensee agreed that it is difficult for the Vietnamese people to find their identity in Germany because Germany is still trying to figure out its own identity. He suggested that most immigrants are interested in economics rather than politics. They do not apply for citizenship because they can take advantage of social programs without it.

I had a chance to speak with Shawn during an office hour visit. He mentioned something that I had seen in Berlin but had not quite scrutinized. Shawn noticed that in Berlin there are more Asians in service-based jobs and fewer professionals, unlike in Seattle where one can find many Asians dressed in business suites walking in the streets. It stroked me that many of the Vietnamese people that I have observed were indeed those working in small businesses such as restaurants, nail salons, grocery stores, and flower shops. I had also asked Professor Isensee about this idea of service-based jobs for Asian immigrants. He explained that unlike America, where a person who learns to speak English will have better access to economic success, the immigrants in Germany are limited to certain jobs and there are little opportunities for them to escape the stereotypes of being a successful flower shop, nail salon, or restaurant owner. He also mentioned that it is very rare to see Vietnamese minorities as high-level professionals or holding political positions.

My research took a groundbreaking step when I met Markus Heidi, another American Studies professor at Humboldt University. I explained my research to him and he kindly helped introduced me to a Vietnamese storeowner, an actual guest worker from East Germany. Markus also gave me contact information of his wife’s Vietnamese PhD student. I had my longest conversations with these two people and was able to learn about the guest workers’ life after the fall of the wall and the political tension between North and South Vietnamese in East and West Germany.

The first time I saw Loan I had a really warm feeling on the inside. She looked to be about my mother’s age with long black hair and dark brown eyes. Her wide smile, soft voice and welcoming demeanor made me feel at home. She spoke to me in Vietnamese and at first I was at a lost of words. I could not think of what to say so she kindly filled the void in my head by telling me to say “Chào cô Loan”, which translates to “Hello aunt Loan”. It was around 10 A.M and she was preparing to open her shop. I walked around the neighborhood of Oranienburger as to let Loan finish setting up her business. I love observing a new place in Berlin. At every different metro stop, there is another unique location, different in sight, feel, and smell. I feel as if I had experienced more than one culture, on country, and one group of people.

I slowly stepped into the small room crowded with refrigerators, magazines, postcards, cardboard boxes, and cigarettes. Loan sat behind a glass table near the cigarette displays. As I entered, I was once again greeted with a warm smile. Loan pulled out a tall bar stool near her table for me to sit on. We started to have a small conversation in which she asked me about myself. I told her my immigration story of how I came to America with my parents and brother when I was eight years old. We talked about my family, aspirations and goals. She was very much interested in my life. I sat with her for hours as each of her customers would come and go. I watched as she laughed and chitchatted with the German man from across the street, said Tschüss to the dad buying ice cream for his kids, and waved goodbye to the pleasant lady in a nice business outfit. Then, I began asking her questions about her own journey to Germany. I learned that she had been living in Berlin for 27 years. She came to East Germany when she was 19 years old as a part of the work contract that the Soviets had with North Vietnam. Loan explained that in her time, many North Vietnamese would sign up for the guest worker program right after they finished secondary school. She came to Germany alone and worked in the textile factory until the fall of the wall. I asked Loan about the challenges she faced as a Vietnamese guest worker. She told me that there were strict rules that prohibit the guest workers from having a family. She was not allowed to meet men, get married, or have children. If she had gotten pregnant, she would be sent back to Vietnam right away. I learned that after the fall of the wall, it was hard times for many guest workers. They needed jobs to live out the days until their contract expired and they would be sent back to Vietnam. Loan said that seeking jobs in the west was very difficult and when the guest workers’ contract ended in the early 90’s, the German government gave them two options. They could take a stipend and head back to Vietnam or stay, receive no money, and be “độc lập”, independent. There was going to be no help and they had to fend for themselves. Loan chose to stay in Germany with her husband, who was a fellow guest worker.




My final talk with Toan Nguyen, a Vietnamese PhD student was a good way to end my research. I spoke with mostly North Vietnamese people from East Germany, but Toan gave me the perspective of South Vietnamese people from West Germany. Interestingly enough, Toan was researching about identity and German social issues. We discussed his parents’ experience as refugees seeking political asylum in West Germany. He explained that the refugees were better integrated into German society than the guest workers because there was public sensitivity towards the South Vietnamese in the West. Perhaps the West Germans felt this way because they empathized with the refugees’ situation as escapees of communism. The refugees were welcomed to their newly adopted country with support in housing, job placement, and social benefits. I asked whether there was still political tension and division between the Vietnamese people living in East Germany and in West Germany. He told me that every year in Berlin, there are two different New Years celebration in which the East Vietnamese would wave the current communist Vietnam flag while the West would wave the old South Vietnam flag.



The people I met, the places I saw, and the stories I heard will forever be kept in my memory and have a place in my heart. My research was not just for the class; it was for me. I learned about the people who shared my same heritage but different life experiences. I discovered a side of me that I never knew I had or was always afraid to tap into. I can be a writer, a performer, and an artist. My fears transformed into curiosity and my worries morphed into creativity. Europe did not change me, but rather it unlocked me. It provided me with the means to discover myself. Although my research has reached its end, my travels and exploration will not.


Seattle

Berlin

Istanbul

Paris

Barcelona

London