Accidental Cooking Lessons
I never thought about it until Cici's Vietnamese friend asked me a few minutes ago - can Angela really cook? She was very surprised, but I can hear Cici in the kitchen now giving cooking lessons to her friend. Without intending to, I taught Cici how to cook this summer, one lesson at a time. Just learning how to heat water on an induction range top is a lesson in cooking, but once you master that, you can transition those skills to actual cooking. Learning how long it takes to heat something in the microwave is another lesson. Learning to bake things in the oven is a lesson.
Practicing the skills once you learn them is important. Cici did all of these things this summer. It makes me smile to hear her showing her friend how to cook things. They are working together, cooking noodles, heating the fried rice that was in the refrigerator, warming the little Chinese sandwiches we brought home yesterday. Earlier I took glasses of lemonade and some grapes to the girls as they worked on their homework. I did the Old Testament homework by myself, Papa, Cici came out of her bedroom to tell me. I am very proud of you, Cici, that is great!
I think I am becoming the surrogate father for Cici's friend. She lives with her aunt while she is attending school in Houston, but she rides to and from school with us. Her parents are in Vietnam, in Ho Chi Minh City, though her father's family is from Quang Tri. I didn't tell her, but I almost died there one night. If the rocket that killed the twenty Marines who were in the tent next to mine had been just a few feet to the left when it landed, it would have taken out everyone in my tent instead of the tent beside us. The rocket was so powerful that we had to rake the sand-like dirt in the tent the next morning so we could recover the body parts and put them in heavy duty trash bags.
We just stayed there one night. It was the day that we left Khe Sanh after the seige. We bitched all day about having to fill sandbags to stack about three feet high around each of our tents. After being in Khe Sanh for months, we didn't feel like we were even in a combat zone when we got to Quang Tri. We had taken our first shower in months, had eaten our first hot food in months, and were wearing clean clothes for the first time in months. The last thing we wanted to do was fill sandbags. But the NVA had us targeted after we left Khe Sanh, and one of their rockets found its intended target. The sandbags around our tent saved our lives.
We had an interesting conversation about what it is like to live in Vietnam now. We feel like the North tries to control everything in the South, so we don't like it, the young lady told me.
But for now, I have English and Chemistry homework to do, I have been advised.
Practicing the skills once you learn them is important. Cici did all of these things this summer. It makes me smile to hear her showing her friend how to cook things. They are working together, cooking noodles, heating the fried rice that was in the refrigerator, warming the little Chinese sandwiches we brought home yesterday. Earlier I took glasses of lemonade and some grapes to the girls as they worked on their homework. I did the Old Testament homework by myself, Papa, Cici came out of her bedroom to tell me. I am very proud of you, Cici, that is great!
I think I am becoming the surrogate father for Cici's friend. She lives with her aunt while she is attending school in Houston, but she rides to and from school with us. Her parents are in Vietnam, in Ho Chi Minh City, though her father's family is from Quang Tri. I didn't tell her, but I almost died there one night. If the rocket that killed the twenty Marines who were in the tent next to mine had been just a few feet to the left when it landed, it would have taken out everyone in my tent instead of the tent beside us. The rocket was so powerful that we had to rake the sand-like dirt in the tent the next morning so we could recover the body parts and put them in heavy duty trash bags.
We just stayed there one night. It was the day that we left Khe Sanh after the seige. We bitched all day about having to fill sandbags to stack about three feet high around each of our tents. After being in Khe Sanh for months, we didn't feel like we were even in a combat zone when we got to Quang Tri. We had taken our first shower in months, had eaten our first hot food in months, and were wearing clean clothes for the first time in months. The last thing we wanted to do was fill sandbags. But the NVA had us targeted after we left Khe Sanh, and one of their rockets found its intended target. The sandbags around our tent saved our lives.
We had an interesting conversation about what it is like to live in Vietnam now. We feel like the North tries to control everything in the South, so we don't like it, the young lady told me.
But for now, I have English and Chemistry homework to do, I have been advised.
chinese women would say you are a 'good man', I add thanks for your service.
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Thanks Harry.
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What a nightmare to relive over and over. I was just a mere kid waiting for my draft number in 72’ – I saw a few friends who were also kids getting ready to ship out. It was towards the end of the war and more and more protests took place. I remember watching TV with my father and watching him get hysterical and calling the protesters “damn chicken-shit bastards”. He served in WWII as a 1st lieutenant in the Army Air Corp flying over Germany and collecting shrapnel in his body from enemy fire. Thanks for your service Mr. Lee and I'm glad you’re still with us.
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This happened two days after Easter Sunday in '68, so you were really just a kid at the time.
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