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Jevremovic Daniel
Dr. Scott Lankford
English 1A Honors
2 February 2007
Breaking Free: Conflicting Senses of Belonging in Catfish and Mandala
It is imperative to the existence of man that one understand their origins and who they are. In his memoir, Catfish and Mandala, Andrew X. Pham writes that “there is no greater fear than the fear of being caught wanting to belong” (Pham 339). It exactly this that has been my preeminent emotion for the majority of my years until one event—a lecture from my father—granted me comfort, and a deeper understanding about what it means to exist. In Pham’s discussion with his tour-guide friend Cuong, Pham is forced to acknowledge the same fear and is changed with the final awakening; that he is dynamic, with a true self that changes at every moment, and that it is acceptable not to be bound by a single definition or nationality.
In order to understand why Pham changes, or why such a change can take place in any person, it is important to analyze past experiences. Throughout Pham’s life in America he has been an outsider, subject to scrutiny, racial slurs, beatings, or simple dirty looks. While Pham is in America he is never considered to be truly American. Even though Pham explains he is from the Bay Area, Tyle still asks him, “’Where are you from? Originally’” (Pham 6). In his discussion with Cuong, Pham recalls instance after instance of abuse in America and of being treated as an outsider, as un-American. The irony of course is that when Pham is at home in Vietnam, he receives the exact same treatment. One can imagine the mental toll on him, feeling almost completely alone, as being very great. In fact the difficulty is great enough that Cuong reveals that he would not move to America because he knows that he would not belong, he would merely be a ‘guest.’ What precipitates a turning point with Cuong is that Pham is forced to acknowledge all of this at once. Pham writes, “I don’t mind being looked at or treated just like another American, a white American. No, I don’t mind at all. I want it. I like it. Yet every so often when I become really good at tricking myself, there is always that inevitable slap that shocks me out of my shell and prompts me to reassess everything” (Pham 327). Pham is forced to admit to himself that while he may have periods where he feels American, this is not his reality, and when he is with Cuong he is reminded that he is not really just Vietnamese either. Cuong seems to almost recite a list about everything un-Vietnamese about Pham where he states:
Look at you. Living in America has lightened your skin, made you forget your language. You have taster Western women and you’re probably not as attracted to Vietnamese women anymore. You eat nutritious Western food and you are bigger and stronger than use. You know better than to smoke and drink like Vietnamese. You know exercise is so good so you don’t waste your time sitting in cafes smoking your hard-earned money away. Someday, your blood will mix so well with Western blood that there will be no difference between you and them. You are already lost to us” (Pham 330).
This conversation is pivotal for Pham because he is dealing with someone who is not out to torment him, but who respects him, and who tells him that he does not belong. Pham remarks that “…his observations fall on me like a sentence” (Pham 330) in this case, the sentence is to always be the outsider, never part of the group that Pham so desperately searched for as he tried to understand himself.
Fortunately for Pham, his new understanding was not the dismaying, depressing item that it seemed at first; instead it was a catalyst for the rebirth of Pham’s psyche. Pham’s answer lies in Cuong’s words, “’Vietnamese are Vietnamese if they believe they are’” (Pham 330). In other words, it is how Pham feels or believes at any moment that determines who he is, not his race or his looks, but his environment and being. When Pham encounters Cuong he is forced to confront everything about why he was constantly forced to reassess his sense of self. Pham perhaps characterizes his new self best where he writes, “I am a chameleon. And the best chameleon has no center, no truer sense of self than what he is in the instant” (Pham 339). Through discussion with Cuong, Pham is able to answer the question that had hounded him throughout his life. Although Pham’s past includes bits and pieces of this realization, it is only when he comes to this point that it suddenly all spills out and he can reach a state of harmony. It almost seems that Pham achieves a sort of enlightenment when he states, “I slip among classifications like water in cupped palms, leaving bits of myself behind” (Pham 339), a feeling that reminds me of my own experience trying to understand my heritage.
I was fourteen years old, summer of 2004 and I thought my father had stormed into my room to yell at me about some mundane detail on my report card again. Instantly, the hairs on the back of my neck jumped to attention and my body tensed to prepare for any unforeseen combat that was about to ensue. Even my ego was ready to mount a defense at the onslaught of criticism I was about to endure. I was more than surprised at the events that ensued as my father began explaining to me the details about why we left Belgrade, Serbia and then later why we had to leave Croatia. He patted me on the back and an aura of compassion—that I had not been privy to since I was an infant—pervaded the room. Ever since I moved to D.C., I became known as ‘the American’ back in Croatia, even though I had only been away for a handful of years. The bitter aftertaste of tears I was trying to suppress in my mouth was overpowering as I whined about how difficult it was without anyone to relate to. It was then that my father explained to me that it was better to have an understanding of multiple cultures, to be able to ‘blend in.’ Just like Pham, I could sneak in as a native or pretend I am a stupid tourist wherever I went. It was this new understanding that relieved me from the burden of constantly wanting to belong to a group, to say I’m from one country or another. Thinking of identity in terms of being able to be successful and adapt allowed me to slip from one perception of myself to another, rather than just being bogged down by the fear that I will never fit in. That experience allows me today to have the freedom to travel and live amongst any group and be comfortable enough to just be a ‘guest.’ My perception of my identity was changed beyond just my nationality but to all of my interests and aspects of my personality. In a sense my identity was always changing, like Pham’s idea of being a chameleon.
The difference between the turning points of Pham’s and my life is that Pham would have liked to be accepted into some group if he could have. It was only when Pham realized why he was not American, nor Vietnamese, that he could come to an understanding within himself. For me, it was the understanding that I did not want to be American and could not just be Croatian, which forced me to reach a new understanding about my sense of self. Pham’s realization was also after great hardship and at first depressed him, while for myself, finally being able to understand the two sides to my background was instantly liberating. However, in both turning points there was a need to reconcile two halves of one’s identity. Pham wonders and says, ““Maybe the Vietnamese as a whole are not likeable” (Pham 208). I also came to dislike being associated with America because of its policies around the world; I became embarrassed to say that I live in the U.S. It was only after I gained understanding about myself that I was comfortable with being called American, since that experience is part of who I am. After Pham gains an acceptance of his true self, he is no longer just an uncomfortable, unlikable Vietnamese guest in America, he is also at home in America. In total, the Pham at the end of the journey is very different than how Pham portrays himself at the onset of his trip. It was with the idea that “’Vietnamese are Vietnamese if they believe they are’” (Pham 330), or that one’s identity can change with their way of thinking, that Pham could break out of his old self where previously he could not “…always claim [his] rights as a naturalized citizen” (Pham 328). Even though Pham at first is disappointed with his journey to Vietnam, this decisive change of his understanding serves to justify all of the hardship he had to endure to reach it.
The pain of constantly struggling to reconcile and reassess one’s self would be far greater than the dysentery, poverty, or physical exertion Pham dealt with on his trip. In fact, Pham becomes so comfortable in Vietnam, the land where he felt so strange before, that he says, “I could burn up a decade here as easily as flaming a whole matchbook at once” (Pham 341). This is only as a result of his change to view himself as more than just American, but as someone who has become part of the land. In contrast, Pham previously thought, “In this Vietnamese muck, I am too American. Too refined, too removed fro my que, my birth village. The sight of my roots repulses me. And this shames me deeply” (Pham 183), however once Pham’s sense of self changes, he can embrace Vietnamese culture. By the end of his memoir, Pham is happy staying not just in America, not just in Vietnam, but in both places. This change helps to demonstrate how after his discussion with Cuong, Pham is able to reconcile his two halves. After my turning point, I also became comfortable with the idea of living in a land that seemed foreign. If one accepts that they have a diverse background, then their people no longer appear as strange and one no longer feels as isolated. The result is that life becomes possible to enjoy, despite the projections or criticism of others. It is this change to happiness that is the primary result of the change that took place in Pham and myself. After that turning point there is a new understanding that there is no need to deny aspects of one’s culture or personality, and be embarrassed or ashamed that one cannot fit into any certain nationality or group. It is better instead, to understand each component of oneself, what it means to their existence, and to use their diverse background to their one’s own advantage. The alternative is to feel constantly hampered and even betrayed by a part of oneself that will never go away. After the night of drinking with Cuong and the “conversation [that] crossed forbidden boundaries” (Pham 330), Pham’s view of himself was radically changed. He is left with the thought that he is not just limited to being Vietnamese or American, he can be at home in either place. I too was left with the same reassuring feeling after being told the reality of my situation and then recognizing it for myself. Pham’s experience freed him from the same shackles that I was lucky enough to also escape.