The Latehomecomer: A book review

Today I posted this review on the NWP ELL Network Discussion Listserv, and I want to make sure those of you who are not on this listserv have a chance to learn of this book as well.   It is truly a special book:

Today I’d like to tell you about an eloquent book I read recently about the Hmong.  For the past several years I’ve looked for such a book, one that would inform people who don’t know the story of the Hmong.  I also wanted it for my students who were born and raised in the U.S., as well as for those students for whom Ban Vinai Refugee camp is a distant memory.  Many of my Hmong students have expressed their wish to know more about their own history and culture.  There are other books that have been written about this group of people, but this is the one I have wished for.  It is called The Latehomecomer, by Kao Kalia Yang.  What distinguishes this book, apart from the beauty of the writing, is that the author is Hmong and the story is that of her family: her beloved grandmother, her parents, siblings and herself.

Beginning with the first paragraph she had my undivided attention:  “From the day that she was born she was taught that she was Hmong by the adults around her.  As a baby learning to talk her mother and father often asked, “What are you?” and the right answer was always, “I am Hmong.”  It wasn’t a name or a gender, it was a people.  When she noticed that they lived in a place that felt like it had an invisible fence made of men with guns who spoke Thai and dressed in  colors of old rotting leaves, she learned that Hmong meant contained.”

The story begins in Laos, during the Vietnam War.  She tells of her parents efforts to escape the certain death that awaited if they stayed, and their capture and imprisonment while en route.  The story continues through their crossing the Mekong River to Thailand, and their life in Ban Vinai Refugee Camp. where the author was born.  It continues with their relocation to the United States and their efforts to fit into their new life in Minnesota.  She deftly weaves into the story historical information with cultural practices.  The writing keeps the reader gripped from the first paragraph to the end.   Every few pages I found myself putting little post-its to mark memorable lines.  (Which was of questionable value since I had borrowed it from the library and had to take them out prior returning it!)

I will end by saying that if you are interested in the Hmong, or if you wish to add an excellent resource to your multicultural library, take a look at this book!  You won’t be disappointed.

I will let Kalia’s words end this review:

“I dream that one day soon my book will be published, and it will show the world one more way into words. I dream that this book will have the power to give value to all the dreams I’ve collected along the way, not just my own, but those that were planted inside of me by my grandmother, my people, and the hard lives we’ve had all along history’s forsaken trails. I dream the writing dream: to live in language forever, to unravel the human story and grant it the power to change human life.”

To read the rest of this essay go to:

http://solbooks.com/blog/?p=12

To visit the author’s webpage:

http://www.kaokaliayang.com/home.html

The Latehomecomer

Kao Kalia Yang

Coffee House Press

27 North Fourth Street, Suite 400

Minneapolis, MN 55401

Smoky city

Last I heard there are some 600+ 1000 fires burning in Northern California at the present time, courtesy of a lightning storm last Saturday.  Although they are some distance from us, Chico is completely socked in with smoke.  The hills have disappeared completely, as has everything that’s more than a few blocks away.  Hardly anyone is out and about.  We’re being told to stay inside because of the air quality, and it seems people are heeding the warnings.  Driving through downtown, which is usually always crowded, feels post-apocalyptic.  (I’ve never used that word before – it fits just right here, unfortunately.)    They are saying that two years of inadequate rainfall left the woods unrefreshed from last summer, creating conditions ripe for what is happening.   It kind of brings home the idea of global warming.

A safe haven? My disconnect between dream and reality

I often think of – dream of – my home as my “safe haven.” In my mind it is where I come to remind me of myself, to wash off the outside world and rest my body, mind and spirit. I listen to music here, and wander in my garden, sit on the brick patio, surrounded by fragrant herbs and just breathe. Sprinklers come on automatically to keep everything green and lush. Late at night I sit in my hot tub and watch the sky, always greeting Orion when I first enter the water. Here I am nourished and renewed, at peace in my soul.

Wait. The part about Orion and the hot tub is true, but that’s all. The rest has yet to be translated into realtime. I have so much stuff. I’m like a magnet for things that I wouldn’t miss if they went away. Yet when I look at each item, I am sure I need it or will need it. I totally get the decluttering talk – clutter holds your dreams, gets in the way psychically, as well as physically – I do. So why am I so attached to it, so unable to free myself from it? Books and bags and books and papers and books. Along with a few more books. Sounds like I know where to begin, doesn’t it?

Let’s see. The teacher books. I might need those. Or I could put them in the library at the writing project office and go borrow them if I do. They might even be read by other people if I do that. I can do that today. Then there are the art and garden books. I can’t get rid of those. I’m about to do some cool projects. Anytime now. Maybe tomorrow or next week. Or not. Still, if I take those out, I can’t borrow them back and I’ll want to look at them, I’m sure. And the children’s books. I have so many of those. Participating in the Children’s Choice book awards this year loaded me up with great kid’s books. And I have grandchildren – I need to have books for them to read, don’t I? Of course I do.

Okay, then what about the novels? OMG. The novels. I definitely could weed through those. I could either donate them to the public library or, on a more avaricious bent, I could trade them in at the used bookstore for more credit. For more books. I like having novels here, not because I read them again really, but because I like to share them with others. To lend them. Except to my friend who reads in the hot tub. She is grounded after she dropped the one book I asked her not to read there into the water. Then she loaned it to another friend who can’t find it. Not that I’d want it back anyway, with its pages all stiff and stuck together. That one I wanted to loan to my mom. She was interested in it after I told her of the graphic sex scenes that so surprised me after I wrote to the author and told him how I could so identify with the women characters in it, and I was thinking of taking a writing workshop with him. Yeah. That one. But there are others. Other friends who return them in good condition, and I like to be their book source. Their connection.

Books aren’t the only clutter that buries me, but if I begin with the books, I may free up some energy for the rest of the stuff. I’m going to go begin with the books. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Wordie Cloud: Summer Goals Meme

Oh my gosh, isn’t this the coolest thing? I found myself adjusting the words in the blogpost to make the Wordie cloud look better.

Summer Goals Meme

First of all, what is a meme? Here is what “The Daily Meme” says: “In the context of web logs / ‘blogs / blogging and other kinds of personal web sites it’s some kind of list of questions that you saw somewhere else and you decided to answer the questions. Then someone else sees them and does them and so on and so on…Eventually some people decided they were going to creating weekly questionnaires (memes) and post them every week. Some are monthly, a few are daily and some are always there. Some suggest that you get five other people to do the same meme and they have to get five people (and so on), which sometimes increases their propagation.” Gosh – this website makes it seem almost complex – maybe I shouldn’t have gone there…

Anyway, the other day I saw on Kevn Hodgson’s blog his Summer Goals meme, and liked it so much I decided to do my own here. I hope if others read mine, you will either post your own, on your blog or post it as a comment here. Either way, if you do make one, I’d love to read yours as well. Having said ALL THAT:

My Summer Goals Meme:

1. Clear the clutter – physical, mental, all of it. As much of it as I can find, including the mini-storage.
2. Eat locally – nothing from further than 100 miles away.
3. Write, make prayer beads, work in my yard. Some or all of these each day. Make some progress on the novel, I hope.
4. Learn some new digital tools I can use in school:: VoiceThread, Garage Band and iMovie. FInd the PC equivalents of these for the school computers. Get my PowerBook cleaned up so it’s fast again. (More clearing!)
5. Exercise every day. Swim, gym, bike. Something, every day. (Big goal here? Achieve my 10% weight loss, finally. I’m halfway there, so it is conceivable that I can do this.)

A little more: Ground and run my energy every day. Make a new peace garden, hang the prayer flags, make an altar. Or two.

Y ya estuvo.

A New Reader

In 2003 I traveled to Laos with a small group of people from California. Two of them were teachers from Modesto, and they had brought along children’s books written in Hmong and Lao that their school district had published. On this day we were visiting a Hmong village in the northwest corner of the country, near a town called Muang Sing, and they decided to give their books to this village. We were inside a large split bamboo Hmong house when they broke out the books. Never have I seen such delight at books. It was obvious that this was a new experience for the villagers. This man first held his book upside down for a while, until he figured out that something just wasn’t right. It seems disrespectful to him to post that photo, however. He wasn’t unintelligent, just inexperienced. There was one girl in the crowd who could read Hmong and she drew a crowd when she began to read aloud. This photo brings me back to a lovely day among some warm and friendly people.

This photo also makes me think about the huge part books have always played in my life, sometimes at the cost of doing anything but read. I wonder what I might have learned to do with my time had Ever since my grandma convinced the librarian to check books out to me when I was six years old, I’ve had one close by, ready for a reading emergency. The thought of not having a book close at hand makes me very uncomfortable. Guess maybe I should take a deeper look at that!

Philly Cheese Steak? No, beets!

I find myself with a little extra time this morning in Philadelphia.  I got up early and went out to take some photos in the fresh early light.  Except it is already about 90 degrees, and the air feels like pudding, so I lasted for about ten minutes.  Wouldn’t you know I’d be here just in time for a record-breaking heat wave?  It is beautiful down here in the historical area, from what I’be seen.  Not only have I seen very little of it, because of my inability to tolerate the climate,  I have committed a gross fauxpas…I have declined to try a philly cheese steak.  The idea of grilled roast beef and onions topped off with Cheez Whiz on a big flaky roll just doesn’t go down.  All I can think of are salads vegetables and water.  Well, and ice cream.  Okay, strawberry-rhubarb cobbler or pie with ice cream.  And beets.  I have eaten beets with feta or goat cheese every day since I’ve been here, after not eating a single beet for at least five years.  What is with my sudden affection for this humble rubylike vegetable?  The other night at The White Dog restaurant (prime tourist spot – all organic local food, made on the premises) I had a beet salad that would have been satisfying as a dessert. (Except that I ate it first and had dessert afterwards.) Thick slices of tender beets layered with mild creamy goat cheese, with a few little greens on top and some spiced walnuts scattered around the base.  Topped off with a light viniagrette, it was dreamy.  All you beet haters read it and weep!  I will certainly be weeping when next I go to Weight Watchers and face the scale.  Oh well.