As I rubbed my face, a middle-aged man gripped my neck, the way Vietnamese fathers or uncles often do when trying to pour their strength into you.

If the idea of “exotic” and complex languages with features you’ve never imagined thrills you, I guarantee you’ll get more out of studying Navajo, American Sign Language, Kikuyu, V…

The Vietnamese I own is the one you gave me, the one whose diction and syntax reach only the second-grade level.

They were buried in a gravesite near Kai Tak, alongside other Vietnamese who hadn’t made it safely to shore.