We moved into an old house in the suburbia of Sydney, a place called Sydenham. The house was on a busy road with cars and trucks passing by all time, again under the path of planes. It was a two-bedroom house with a small lounge room, which we used as a bedroom, and a small backyard. Despite being a small house, it was bigger than the sleeping area we had back in the refugee camp in Hong Kong.
The first day at an English-speaking school was a major shock for a little kid who doesn’t speak much English. Everyone has a different accent from the American accent I used to hear back in Hong Kong.
One funny event happened during my first day at Tempe Primary School that I still remember for a long time. I sat next to two Greek boys: George and Peter. The teacher told them to help me to order lunch. I could not understand what they said at all. I only know a few words: food and money. They asked me a lot of questions, but I didn’t understand any of them at all. The two boys laughed. They gave up and wrote something on the little white paper bag and told me to give them the $5 given to me by my stepdad. At lunchtime, I received a peanut butter bun and a small juice box. The peanut butter was a new taste, but I loved it very much. So I remembered the name and ordered once a week for a few months for recess.
Another strange new food that I tasted was the green granny smith apple. Sometimes, after school, I would ask mum for 20cents to buy a granny smith apple from the store next door. I then put it in the fridge for about 20 minutes before I have it for the after-school snack. The crunchy sour taste was excellent.
Life was a struggle for the first few years – trying to learn a new language and a new culture. I had to help the family with sewing work like many other Vietnamese families.
Despite struggling, my mum bought a pink BMX from a little toy store in Marrickville. It was on the main road of Marrickville. I rode the bike to the shops in Marrickville to get some small grocery items for my mum. I rode the bike with the kids from the neighbourhood, which I got to know via the son of my stepdad’s friend. One of the boys was Terry from Turkey. I can’t remember the name of the other boys now. The funny thing was the boys used to bully and make fun of me before we got introduced. That’s kids for you.