A half a century has passed since the events I am about to describe took place half a world away. This description is made more complex as neither Heidi Ho nor myself are either Vietnamese or from nations that they have struggled against. Add to this the complication that Heidi as a tourist and I as a scholar are merely observers of Vietnam. Complete comprehension, due to lack of experience of the history and lives of all involved in the events that follow below, may not be possible here.
All that being said and as painful as the past can be, whether personal or political, sometimes we cannot learn the lessons of the past without perusing it properly. I cannot look back at my time in Mrs. David was a man seemly without direction, save for his obsessive interest in owning pit bull terriers and his ceaseless study of the Vietnam War.
We all came from Argenteuil County and yet it was if we had all come from three different realities of Lachute. History was his passion and he intended to study at Carleton University after completing his degree at St. And a closeness between Erick and I that was never sought nor found in high school was neither sought nor found at Mrs. Stiff-armed and choked, there were no strong brotherly hugs from which to draw strength and assurance.
A subtle and elaborate code governs the humour, the put-downs, the ways in which serious feeling or vulnerability is deflected. We were just three guys from the same region and living in the same boarding house and studying at the same college. So many men lead lives of quiet frustration because they believe that they are exiled in their isolation.
But letting those feelings go, even the admission of having feelings of vulnerability, loss and shame, even the acceptance that there is indeed a desire for respect for the pain and endurance that life demands, has left so many men tense and numb. Even the thought of seeing David and Erick again creates within me feelings of tension and apprehension.
