The Journey of a REFUGEE

      ECHOES IN THE WIND!

          OOOO"The Journey of a Refugee"OOOO

The play "Echoes in the Wind", which I wrote and directed and was performed by my students was my way of saying good bye to the Vietnamese refugees in the camp. I knew from the beginning that the theme of the play was against repatriation but I presented it anyway in support of the remaining Vietnamese refugees who all opposed to repatriation. I wanted people to hear the voices of the refugees before I finally leave the camp.

One week before the actual presentation, I showed the script to the UNHCR field office head and even invited him to witness the performance. He (name withheld) did not come to the performance saying that he had prior commitment but I thought it was due to the fact that the play "Echoes in the Wind" was in contradiction to repatriation as the only solution to the Vietnamese refugee problem.

















I wrote this play in 1985. Its original title was "The Journey of a Refugee". The play was about the challenges faced by a poor 14-year old Vietnamese youth, whose former military father was sent to re-education camp and he was forced out of Vietnam by his reluctant mother and sent to sail on high seas in search of freedom and a better life. In 1992, I expanded the script and changed its title to "Echoes in the Wind". I was mesmerized by the impeccable acting expertise of my students. Their riveting performances brought tears in the eyes of many Vietnamese in the audience, especially the elders. It was a colossal success and became the talk-of the-camp for months.














At the end of the presentation the school presented me with an elegant plaque of appreciation for faithful, dedicated, pioneering services to the Vietnamese refugees. It was totally unexpected on my part and I became tongue-tied and very emotional. I just said "Thank you," looked at the audience, bowed and gently left the stage. I thought that if I had done a speech I would have cried in front of over one thousand people. It was very important for me not to cry in front of them because they knew me as a funny person who always brought laughter to everyone of them. I wanted them to remember me that way not the teary-eyed Teacher Andy.

The following night, the teachers gave me a Bon Voyage Party. At the party, which was held at Asia World Hotel Palawan, the teachers presented me with a beautiful suitcase, a Seiko watch, and we all had a delectable dinner.

There I managed to make a long speech and expressed my profound gratitude to the teachers for their camaraderie, generosity, and professional and emotional support through the years. There were no tears that night, only jokes and laughter.

The day before I left P.F.A.C., my students spent time with me at my apartment. I gave them my blankets, pillows, some clothes, cassette tapes, grammar books, dictionaries, VHS tapes, kitchen utensils, pictures and so on. We had a party. We sang, danced, and joked with one another. There were tears... and my student "Hue" asked if she could have my poem book that contained all the poems I wrote during my stint with the UNHCR. I gave it to her because I couldn't withstand to see her crying.



The following day, I found myself at the seaport hugging and kissing as I said good bye to the people that I loved. Lots of tears flowed in the eyes of everyone except me. Instead I cracked some jokes and gave them a burst of laughter.

As the ship started to undock, I looked out and saw over two hundred students and nine teachers waving good bye until they gradually went blurry and gone. In my mind I saw the faces of my sweet students and colleagues intermittently flashing. Sister Tomasa did not come to say good bye.  She opted to stay in the camp to entertain the visitors from Switzerland instead of seeing me for the last time. I went to my cabin and dropped to the bed. I took a nap for almost two hours. When I got up and looked out the window, I saw nothing but sea around me.  I realized that I had gotten so far away from the place I learned to love, PFAC, my second home.

Only then that my tears started to fall.

                                          OOOOOO