Inside Out And Back Again

“Everyone’s future changed / upon learning the name / Hồ Chí Minh.”

Hà wishes for Mother to retell old stories of her youth and marriage to Father. In Mother’s story, she and Father marry and move to South Vietnam to live further from the North’s Communist influence. Hồ Chí Minh was an influential communist Party revolutionary and became President of North Vietnam after the country divided into Communist North Vietnam and non-Communist South Vietnam. Hà knows from Mother’s stories that “land was taken away, / houses now belonged to the state” (27-28); this reference from the early days of Mother’s marriage to Father fits the time period of Hồ Chí Minh’s land reform programs in the North.

“‘Yam and manioc / taste lovely / blended with rice,’ / she says, and smiles, / as if I don’t know / how the poor / fill their children’s bellies.”

Hà reacts to Mother’s attempt to brighten the food shortages as war approaches their home near Saigon. Despite Mother’s work as a seamstress, there is not enough money for rice for their family of five. The worsening food situation is a primary reason for Mother’s decision to leave the country with the children.

“Mother lifts one brow, / what she does / when she thinks / I’m lying.”

President Thiệu appears on television to tell his people he cannot serve the people of South Vietnam anymore, foreshadowing the coming collapse of the South Vietnamese government. He also says on the air that he won’t abandon the country. This prompts Mother’s facial expression, and

Hà sees that Mother doesn’t believe him.

“Mother knows this son / cannot stand to hurt / anyone / anything.”

Brother Khôi boldly tells Mother to make only three satchels for their journey, implying that he and Hà want to stay behind. He doesn’t want to leave his home or his newborn chick. Hà explains in this quote why Mother brings Father’s picture to Khôi and tells Khôi that none of them will leave if Khôi insists on staying. Mother tells Khôi that Father wants him to obey and go with the family. Khôi gives in, proving this line of characterization true.

“Then he adds / what no one wants to hear: / ‘It’s over; / Saigon is gone.’”

A South Vietnamese pilot boards the navy vessel of refugees as it slowly escapes down a secondary river. His helicopter went into the water after he jumped from it. Now he informs the ship’s commander and all the refugees that the city of Saigon has fallen to the Communist Army of the North.

“The chick had not / a chance / after we shoved / for hours to board.”

The stink of decay follows Brother Khôi no matter how many times he bathes. Hà’s other brothers take action: Brother Vũ forces Khôi to show what he hides in his pocket—the dead chick he tried to bring on the journey. Brother Quang brings an emotional Khôi to the open deck and away from the other refugees.

“At least / the moon remains / unchanged. / Your father could be looking / at the same round moon.”

On the navy vessel of refugees, the women line up for rudimentary sponge baths each evening. Mother tells Hà that despite the rough journey and fear of discovery, the moon provides constancy. Her words also indicate her hope that Father is alive.

“NO! What’s the point of / new shirt and sandals / if you lose the last / tangible remnant of love?”

In the refugee tent city on the island of Guam, Mother considers selling her amethyst ring from Father. She wants money to buy materials for clothes and shoes for the family. Brother Quang, however, tells her not to; the passion of his words shows the overall sense of loss he must feel, and the strength he recognizes of the ring as a symbol of marriage and family.

“If they’re smart / America will give them / scholarships.”

Mother waits in a line of other refugees in the camp on Guam, trying to decide where the family should settle. The man behind her inspires her to choose America with this mention of potentially free education. The availability of a college education for her children is a priority for Mother.

“I love him / immediately / and imagine him / to be good-hearted and loud / and the owner of a horse.”

Hà’s good spirits show as she meets the family’s sponsor, Mr. Johnston, from Alabama. He wears a cowboy hat and smokes a cigar, so she assumes he must be a full-fledged cowboy fitting all the stereotypes. Initially, Mr. Johnston wanted only one refugee who had an interest in mechanics. Mother, however, convinces him to take all of them to Alabama. Though Mr. Johnston does not have a horse, he proves to be a kindhearted caretaker.

“Whoever invented / English / must have loved / snakes.”

Hà tries to master the English grammar rule for adding –s to words to make them plural, even words that already end in –s like “glass.” To Hà, forming these –s and –es sounds is similar to hissing.

“What kind of a cowboy is he?”

Though Hà is nervous to think of registering for school, she is excited to have the time to spend with Mr. Johnston, “her” cowboy for the day. She tries to let him know with horse sounds—“hee, hee, hee”—that she is more than ready to ride his horse, but the cowboy does not understand. Brother Quang must later translate for Mr. Johnston and tell Hà that Mr. Johnston has no horse; she reacts with this line.

“I repeat, Hà, / and wish I knew / enough English / to tell her / to listen for / the diacritical mark, this one directing the tone downward.”

Hà’s own knowledge of language is clear and makes the scene painfully ironic: Her new teacher, Miss Scott, likens Hà’s name to an American onomatopoeia for laughter. The teacher makes the forced laugh sound not once but twice. The second time, Hà thinks of the sound as “even sadder.” 

“We sit together / shelling peanuts. / I keep my day inside.”

Hà chooses not to tell Mother about her first day at school. The boy Hà thinks of as Pink Boy harassed her and poked her arm, face, and chest to intimidate her and to look powerful in front of his friends. He also followed her home. Ironic symbolism exists with Hà’s action in this scene; she works to get the nutrition-filled part of the nut out of the shell, but she works to keep the painful memory of the school day inside.

“I’m furious, / unable to explain / I already learned / fractions / and how to purify / river water.”

When Miss Scott asks Hà to say the alphabet and count aloud, Hà does so, and Miss Scott encourages the class to applaud. Hà is angry and frustrated by their reaction; she is the only one in the school who knows just how intelligent and capable she is, but she can’t show or tell them because of the language barrier.

“My time with her / will be right after school. / I’m afraid to tell her / how much help I’ll need.”

Hà meets Miss Washington, who is happy to tutor the family members individually. Hà’s schooldays have grown more unbearable thanks to Pink Boy’s cruelty and the well-intentioned but inept reactions of Miss Scott. Additionally, acts of vandalism and slammed doors show Hà that others are not accepting of her family’s presence in the neighborhood. Hà is not confident about her skills as she begins lessons with Miss Washington.

“Come home, / come home and see how / our children have grown.”

Mother assumes that Hà is sleeping when she comes to bed after an evening of her chanting ritual. She whispers these words to Father. Hà does not want to disturb Mother’s privacy, so she keeps quiet. Hà realizes after hearing Mother that Mother also struggles in Alabama and still hopes that Father is alive.

“How can I explain / dragonflies do somersaults / in my stomach / whenever I think of / the noisy room / full of mouths / chewing and laughing?”

Hà tells Miss Washington that she eats candy in the bathroom during lunchtime at school. At Miss Washington’s concerned reaction, Hà tries to explain why she cannot face going to the cafeteria. Miss Washington helps by packing Hà a lunch and arranging for her to eat at her desk with two kind friends.

“No one would believe me / but at times / I would choose / wartime in Saigon / over / peacetime in Alabama.”

Hà reacts this way when Miss Scott uses pictures from the news to convey a sense of Vietnam during the war. Hà wishes Miss Scott would show other pictures to give a more complete idea of the country (Miss Scott later does). Hà also feels that her struggles with the unfamiliarity of Alabama, social tensions at school, and sadness of her family are in a strange way worse for her than the conflict in Saigon.

“Did I ruin the luck / of the whole family? / Is that why we’re here?”

Hà confesses to Mother her transgressions of the last year, including disobeying the custom that says a male must walk the house first at Tết. Because Hà touched a toe to the floor in defiance, she wonders if the family’s lack of luck could be her fault. Mother reassures her that the luck they do have is thanks to Hà’s actions.

“I wake up at faint light, / guilt heavy on my chest. / I head toward the trash can.”

Miss Washington gives Hà dried papaya. Hating its tough, sticky texture, Hà throws the dried fruit away. Mother is disappointed with her behavior, and at dawn, Hà goes to retrieve the packs of papaya. Mother has already set the pieces to soak in hot water, though, and Hà admits here that the taste, though still different, is good.

“I can’t think of anything, / but can’t let my brothers best me, / so I blurt out, ‘What if he’s really gone?’”

Hà’s words foreshadow the events at the end of the book. In response to her brothers’ far-fetched guesses on what might have happened to Father, Hà voices this much more realistic probability. Within a few weeks, Mother loses the amethyst ring, and the family must accept that Father is gone.

“I tell her / Tết is coming / and luck starts over / every new year.”

Hà explains her belief to Miss Washington as the holiday of Tết nears. Hà’s desire to plant seeds from Vietnam in Miss Washington’s yard and her observance that luck begins again each year are evidence that she now accepts the changes of the last year.