U.N. Program Opens Way to New Life in U.S. : Journey of Doubt Ends for Vietnamese

The journey began here on a hot and humid afternoon. In a drab little airport jammed with soldiers and well-wishers, more than 180 Vietnamese heading for new lives in America sat in a darkened lounge, watched the clock and waited.

As clerks barked last-minute instructions, an Air Vietnam jet slowly rolled into view and revved its engines. The parents, children and elderly people rose to their feet, some weeping, others laughing and a few just staring at the plane.

Orange County and its maze of freeways was nearly 10,000 miles away. But for three Vietnamese families, it was getting closer.

Tran Tu Anh and her eight children, traveling to a new home in Santa Ana, smiled as the departure time neared. After years of uncertainty, Tran finally would be reunited with a husband who fled Vietnam nine years ago. “My greatest dream has come true,” she said.

For Nguyen Thi Lien and seven children, the journey to a new home in Fountain Valley--and a husband she had not seen since 1975--began on an anxious note. Lien feared that her family’s hard-won visas might be taken away and worried that they would never reach the United States.

Across the room, the Trinh family could barely contain their excitement. The two beaming parents and their seven children said goodby to friends, hugged each other and looked forward to a reunion in the City of Orange with a son they had last seen 11 years ago.

When the call came to board Flight 831, the refugees eagerly took their seats. Within two hours, they would be undergoing tests and interviews in a Bangkok immigration center. Less than two weeks later, many would be resettled in cities across America.

“Words cannot express how happy we are,” said Nguyen Thi Lien, as she relaxed this week in the living room of her Fountain Valley home, two days after arriving. “For us, this has been the answer to our greatest hopes.”

These journeys to a new life in the United States were made possible by the Orderly Departure Program (ODP), a United Nations venture that has operated since 1979 with the permission of the Vietnamese government.

The program was created to stem the exodus of Vietnamese boat people since Saigon (now called Ho Chi Minh City) fell to Communist troops in 1975. Thousands of these refugees drowned or were murdered at sea, while others poured into neighboring Asian countries.

“We had an international crisis on our hands . . . clearly we had to find a solution that was acceptable to the Vietnamese and other nations of the world,” said Nicholas van Praag, a spokesman for the U.N.’s High Commissioner on Refugees.

A Goal for Many

Since the Orderly Departure Program began, more than 100,000 Vietnamese have emigrated peacefully to several nations, including 40,000 to the United States. Most Vietnamese who have become American citizens or have immigrated legally can apply to bring their families in. All applications, however, are subject to Vietnamese approval.

“We are pleased that so many people have been able to leave under the ODP program,” Van Praag said. “Still, there are many more families trying to get out, and it is hoped that the United States and Vietnam can work out whatever problems may exist to help increase the numbers.

“Above all, this program must be as smooth as possible for the refugees,” he said. “For these people, the passage from their native land to a new home can be strange and disconcerting.”

In the weeks after leaving Vietnam, the refugees on Flight 831 would experience unfamiliar rituals and requirements. But when the Air Vietnam jet touched down in Bangkok, there was only elation.

As they filed off a bus into an airport immigration center, some flashed “V” signals and a few raised fists. One teen-ager proudly carried an electric guitar case on which he had scrawled “America, Saint Louis City,” with a crayon.

A Change in Mood

The mood changed, however, when the refugees learned that they would have to undergo a battery of medical tests and interviews before leaving the center. As the afternoon dragged on, several men stretched out on hard benches and tried to sleep. Teen-agers paced restlessly in the aisles, and infants began to cry.

“We always try to make this go as swiftly as possible for them,” said Yukolsiri Surasrang, a nurse with the International Committee for Migration, a worldwide organization that assists in the transport and processing of refugees.

“But they learn pretty quickly that there is a lot of waiting involved in this process . . . they get used to long lines and long delays.”

After their interviews, the families filed into a room where a television was showing “cultural orientation” films. A boy stared at the TV as a Vietnamese announcer explained how to use seat belts on an airplane. Slowly, the boy began repeating in English, “Fasten your seat belts, please.”

Soon the tests were completed and two buses arrived to take the refugees to a concrete building in Bangkok that would be their home for the next few days. For many, the freeway ride offered the first glimpse of urban life outside Vietnam. But most of the refugees, exhausted, slept as the buses sped toward the city.

Privacy in Short Supply

The next morning, immigration officials and a battery of nurses continued their checks and interviews. Parents and children waited in long lines for vaccinations and chest X-rays, while others tried to find a bit of privacy.

Each of the families had been given small living spaces in communal rooms where sheets, mattresses and blankets were spread over the floor, surrounded by luggage and other possessions. A few refugees strung clotheslines from one suitcase to another, while others washed their garments in sinks.

The morning schedule seemed routine, until the bombshell hit: Officials explained that some family members were going directly to the United States, while others would have to spend up to six months at special education camps in the Philippines.

“U.S. officials have decided it is best for some refugees, especially those too old for public schools, to spend time learning English and job skills, before they come to America,” said Udomsak Glingosum, a refugee center official.

“In the long run, this makes good sense,” he said. “But it upsets many of the families. They are confused, they don’t understand.”

As she stood quietly in a corner, Van Bich Thi, 25, was bewildered by the news that she and three siblings would not be going directly to Orange. The Trinh family was close and should not be separated, she said.

“It is very strange for us here, but it may be very strange also (in the Philippines),” Thi said. “We have come a long way. We are concerned about this.”

The days passed slowly, with further medical tests and immigration interviews. Nguyen Thi Lien, who tried her best to tidy the family’s living quarters, said she spent most of the time thinking about her husband, Vu Van Huong, and the home he had purchased for their family in Fountain Valley.

“Of course, we are looking forward to America,” said Lien’s 26-year old son, Vu Hong Chuong. “Here it is all right, but this is not our home. We wish to get jobs, to go to school, to be with our father.”

Several days later, the Vu, Ly and Trinh families would board planes for their 15-hour flight to America. On the other side of the Pacific Ocean, their family members were beginning to get the news.

For Vu Van Huong, the word came in a telephone call from U.S. immigration officials. As he sat in his Santa Ana insurance office last week, he said the arrival of his family was “the greatest news, the happiest day, the greatest thing.”

Long Wait for Reunion

Vu, formerly a paratrooper with the South Vietnamese army, fled Saigon in 1975 and eventually settled in Orange County. The separation from his family was “very unhappy,” he said, and he applied for their immigration in 1979.

For 10 years, Vu said, he has lived frugally, sent material goods to his family in Vietnam and saved enough money to buy a new home. Although he was angry about the time it took Vietnamese officials to let his family leave, Vu said his wait had paid off.

“When I meet them at the airport, it will be the most wonderful day of our lives,” he said. “How can I put this in words?”

Nguyen Ly of Santa Ana also received word by telephone that after nine years, his family would be joining him. The factory assembler who had expressed doubts that his family would be allowed to leave was overjoyed, and quickly began readying his town house.

But for Trinh Tuan Hung, 27, the news that his parents and three siblings would be arriving came from a newspaper reporter.

“You have seen my family, they are well?” he asked excitedly. “When I greet them at the airport, it will be such a great moment!”

Help From a Friend

Trinh, a McDonnell-Douglas employee, described the 11-year separation from his family as “painful . . . very sad.” He said he fled Saigon in 1975 because his family feared that he would be recruited into the Viet Cong militia. Trinh spent a brief period in Los Angeles, but eventually settled in Orange.

He was given a home by Cynthia Weldon, a woman who is active in refugee affairs and has financially sponsored other Vietnamese families. Weldon “made everything possible for me . . . she helped me get through school and get a job. She has been my very best friend,” he said. Still, the separation and the adjustment has been difficult. As Trinh and Weldon prepared for the family’s arrival, the young man said his parents and siblings would have the same difficulties with language and customs that he did.

“We must work together, to make it easy for them in their new home,” Trinh said. “But they are finally coming. I still cannot believe it. It is still a dream to me.”

The dreams came true for Vu, Ly and Trinh on separate nights last week, as they waited at Orange County’s John Wayne Airport for the planes carrying their families.

Vu clutched a bouquet of roses, straightened his tie and kept checking his watch. Trinh talked calmly with Weldon and other friends, while Ly stood alone at the airport gate, watching planes land and passengers disembark.

Cheers on Arrival

When the jet carrying Vu’s family rolled into view, a cheer went up from his friends. The insurance executive strained to look at the passengers filing off the plane, and seemed lost in the first crush of people hurrying by.

Then he saw them--first his children, followed by his wife. Vu rushed forward to embrace his family, as his friends clapped. A tearful Nguyen Lien held her husband tightly and buried her face in his shoulder.

Three nights later, Trinh and Ly had their reunions. Trinh, eyes brimming with tears, hugged his mother and father repeatedly. Ly embraced his wife and children, spoke quietly with them as they retrieved their luggage and then hurriedly left the airport.

In the following days, all three families began the difficult--but sometimes humorous--adjustment to a new life.

The Ly family, fresh from an automobile trip to visit friends in Westminster, sat in their Santa Ana living room and seemed awe-struck. “So many cars in America, so very many cars,” said Quoc Hong Tran, 26. “I wish to learn to drive one very soon.”

Asked what he liked most about America so far, 10-year-old Ly Hont Ty didn’t hesitate.

“Apples,” he said. “Also chocolate.”

Tran Tu Anh expressed relief at having finally arrived in America. After two unsuccessful attempts to flee Vietnam by boat, she had given up hope that the Orderly Departure Program would allow her to leave.

“Many other Vietnamese have lost hope as well,” she said. “They don’t think they can wait forever.”

Several miles away, the Trinh family was relaxing on the patio of Weldon’s home. The two parents looked at photographs of the family taken at the Bangkok refugee center, while Trinh Tuan Dat, 9, busied himself with the mysteries of a cordless telephone.

Earlier, Trinh had difficulty explaining the concept of a microwave oven to his father. “He smiled and shook his head,” Trinh said.

Trinh’s mother and father, who said their food rations had been cut after they applied to leave Vietnam, went on their first shopping expedition later that afternoon at a Vietnamese supermarket in Westminster. After an initial hesitation, Trinh’s mother began selecting meats and pushing a shopping cart up and down the aisles.

“We will be fine,” Trinh said with a smile.

Learning About TV

In their Fountain Valley home, the Vu family also was adjusting to a new life. Sprawled on the floor, several children were mastering the art of switching television channels with a remote control device.

Every now and then the children would repeat words flashing on the screen to practice their English: “Skin cleanser . . . Elton John . . . Divorce Court,” they said slowly.

Vu Van Huong said he had “great plans” to help his children master their new language. In addition to high school classes, the youngsters would take part-time jobs at nearby fast-food restaurants. “This way they learn very quickly,” he said.

In the days ahead, there would be visits to the Social Security office, driving lessons for the children and, of course, a trip to Disneyland. For now, there were hours of television.

As his boys watched Ben and Hoss Cartwright gallop down a dusty trail, Vu smiled.

“They are seeing America now,” he said. “They are seeing it for the first time.”