Panda Gifts Chapter 1, Part 3

From Taipei to Queens to Mt. Vernon

Puopuo and I were inseparable. She took me on her errands to the market. I stood next to her when she cooked. I kept her company when everyone was at work or school. When my aunts and uncle were home on Sundays, I was occasionally allowed to roam the fields and steep hills above the houses built hodge podge against the slopes. No one ever talked about the war in Vietnam. No one ever criticized the Americans and no one ever mentioned carpet bombing or napalm or G.I.’s massacring entire villages of Vietnamese people. We knew that the Communists were bad. That was enough for us. The Americans were good and they were either going to help my grandparents and the Kuomintang return to the Mainland or they were going to welcome us all as beloved immigrants to the New World.