A Night of Nostalgia? Regret? Or newfound hope...

Tonight I attended a forum hosted by Maria Tran & Joseph Hieu Dinh as a part of Vietlish Entertainment: Film-making in the Vietnamese Diaspora. It was pretty enlightening to learn about how the Vietnamese community are growing in the film industry, but it also brought up the dilemmas and the politics that worked around that. It goes to show the reality of the industry and how hard it is for artists to make anything out of themselves for the sake of it. I guess this would be how my parents feel about me (of course, that will be enlightened in a more personal level of the post later).

The screening to top the night was Journey From The Fall, which tells a tale of truth and reality for those who had lived their lives during the Vietnam Civil War. It focuses on those who had fled, who were fleeing, or were trapped by the mechanisms of war. Needless to say, it pulled at my heart-strings. I have a newfound and stronger respect for those who had to live through such times to survive and find a better way of life. I remember many of my Vietnamese friends in high school and how hard they worked in both school and work to follow afterwards. I'm not sure how strongly they feel about their history, but for me, after watching the film, history shows how significant you are in life. It only made me think about how I came to be - to live in a country like Australia, but to live in two worlds with one foot as an Asian and another as an Australian. Though I couldn't relate to the story due to some cultural differences and ideals, I can only sympathise and become deeply attached in regards to experiences I've known in my life, in regards to my family, both here in Australia and overseas.

It only made me think... (and this is the more personal part of the post)... though I'm not Vietnamese, it made me nostalgic about growing up in two different worlds.

This makes me feel regretful that I never give myself the chance to learn more about my parents to begin with. It was only recently I've learnt the hardships my father went through in order to make a better life for him, and soon for his family here in Australia. That generational gap between myself and my parents is becoming a larger divide with every passing year. I'm not fluent in speaking Indonesian or Chinese (as I am from Chinese-Indonesian descent). I remember something not too long ago (maybe over two months now) that I began questioning my own identity over a conversation I had with a booth operator... that's right. A booth operator. I'm not going to get into details about that, but I began questioning where I was as both an Asian and an Australian.

Let's make this simple. My name alone illustrates each part of my identity, of which was, and still is, becoming a part of what I am:

Marie (or otherwise spoken as Mary, MA-rie, Maria and on occasion Anne-Marie and the rarely spoekn Anna-Marie)
My first name, conveniently given since I was born in Australia.

Meiling (or otherwise spelt as Mei Ling)
My middle name given to connect me with my Chinese heritage.

Setiawan (or sometimes spoken as Stiawan)
My surname from my father (of course) who was born in Indonesia.

This generational gap is heavy upon me. It hit me hard like a brick wall on how much of a cultural gap I had with my own parents. I can admit that communication is minimal to say the least. Even though I try to speak to them about what I've been doing, their own words seem to crash over mine, like a tidal wave... or more like a tsunami. I guess this just conjures up how Asian-Australians (or more appropriately for me, Australiasians) have to live in two different worlds, cope with that, and learn to manage in-between. I'm still learning in order to close that gap, but there has to be communication from both sides, and being the eldest in my family only makes it that much harder.

I need to make the time for such talks, find the time to talk to both of my parents, to learn more about them and keep it that way. I know my last attempt ended in failure, or at least, I feel that way. I respect my parents too much to push issues further. There has to be a way to communicate better.


Well, I've gotten a lot out of me. Writing does help figure out what's going on.

Which also reminds me...

I should've started NaNoWriMo-ing a few hours ago... I guess I'll be behind by a day or two.