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Tuesday, March 19, 2013

A Letter from Dufong Island



  The above snapshots were cropped out from my last letter written on "Dufong Island."  It was dated December 3, 1981, four days before I was finally released, although when I sat down to pen this letter home I had no idea of my pending freedom.
   Somehow, I always thought of my homecoming afterward as miraculous.  My grandma's first death anniversary would be on December 8, 1981.  Our family, especially Dad, had begged Grandma to intervene and save me from Dufong.  Why Dufong?  If you looked carefully at the right corner of this letter, you will see it was dated from a place called Đồng Phú.  Dufong existed only in the prisoners' imagination, a mental escape device.  We made up the name in a make-believe game we played with ourselves like little children often do.  It was not so bad to suffer a little on Dufong, an island in the middle of the sea, a place to wait for deliverance.
   And if you can read Vietnamese, you will see how I had tricked myself into seeing only the positiveness of my condition.  I had convinced myself that the years spent on Dufong Island were not wasted, because I was actually learning from my fellow jail mates.  Where else would I have enough empty time and no distraction than this place of no return to learn sewing, embroidery, basket weaving, etc.?
   At the end of this letter written to my sister, Michelle (Mên), I even offered her a little advise.  "If you cannot be a bright star in the sky, then be a small flame in darkness."
   In hindsight, it was the soul of the writer in me which had thrived under those adverse conditions.  In the back of my mind, I was constantly making observations, recording, saving materials for my future memoir.
   And I made sure I lived to write it.

About the Author

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Mother, Engineer, writer, manager, and more. I am a bit of everything, a creature of God. I am passionate with life. I fear death and its many forms. I love my mind, cherish my body. I express through WORDS.

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