Anyone who knows me, knows I was not born in this good country. My working knowledge of the English language though is better than many Americans I know. As grateful as I am for all the opportunities America has afforded my family & me, I can never call it my birthplace. And even if the US is really home to me, it is not my homeland. I could never erase the fact my heritage is bound to a country half way across the globe. And if I ever did forget, all I have to do is pull out my driver's license and look at my last name. Oh and the brown eyes & black hair don't hurt either, though one of these may be getting a temporary makeover in a couple of weeks.
I have been practicing for 3 years now, and as perculier as it may be I have never had to use my native tongue during an exam. Excluding the ones I did for my parents of course. A lot of that has to do with the place I live and practice. Like I may have mentioned at times, this area of Texas is not known for its cultural diversity. But yesterday was my first chance to use my paltry knowledge of the language. Outside of my folks I just do not use it very often.
Growing up my parents were always trying to put our family into better environments for education. That meant moving into more stable neighborhoods. And so my early childhood revolved around moving from one apartment to the next better one, and then to a house and the next better one. These neighborhoods usually were not populated by our culture, but they were stable.
And so it was not a typical encounter today as well. I was already in the middle of an exam with a patient late in the afternoon when a lady came in and asked if I could do exams for her family. Since most of the day was slow, I reflexively said yes. And like a comedy movie, her family slowly filed in as they were lagging behind her pace. It wasn't 2 or 3 members either. Nor was it 4 or 5. It turned out to be 6 eye exams. And I had 2 hours before my typical closing time.
Since matters were swimming in my head at 100 mph for saying yes, I did not notice much about the family except the fact most of them were kids! 5 kids! And then the father stepped in the door last and promptly looked at me and asked if I was Vietnamese. I looked at them for the first time and realized what ramifications my answer would have. I said yes.
So I proceeded in the next 2.5 hours to do 6 exams. Four of them were for the kids. Two for the parents. With the kids I found myself switching back to my English. But with the parents I felt obligated to speak in my first language. It was not always easy. In fact it was down right painful to me, but the older folks did not seem to matter. Maybe my disclaimer at the beginning of the exam eased the expectations. In reality I handled the communication just fine for most of the exams. But the more technical parts and the formality of addressing social position was a little deficient on my part.
It was not an easy day, but it sure made matters lively. And thanks to this family a little piece of the motherland came and paid me a visit.
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