Land of the Free Never Ceases to Amaze Grateful New Citizen

The Fourth of July will be different this year for Dara Chuop.

Because, a few weeks ago, she raised her right hand and pledged allegiance to the United States of America, a thrilling moment for her.

She had escaped the murderous Khmer Rouge in her native Cambodia. She had endured refugee camps in Thailand and the Philippines. She arrived in this country at 13, knowing only a few words of English.

One of the words she did know, even then, was free .

Now she’s 20 and a newly minted U.S. citizen. “I am very excited to have become an American,” she said, her English just fine now. “This is my home.”

With the Fourth of July approaching, it’s worth remembering that there’s more to the holiday than hot dogs, parades and fireworks. It’s a celebration of the essential reason people from all over the world are still clamoring to get here.

“In this country,” Chuop said, “you have freedom. Freedom to make money. Freedom to say what you want. Freedom to think what you want. Freedom to pray the way you want. You have all this freedom.”

It was not that way in Cambodia once the Khmer Rouge began its rampage, destroying the serenity of her little girl’s world.

She remembers being hidden in a big ceramic vase with orders to be quiet so she wouldn’t alert the gunmen outside. “Very scary,” she said.

Ultimately, she said, she and her mother fled the family home near Phnom Penh, the capital. The escape paths through deep jungle were lined with bones: “They were human. People the Khmer Rouge had killed.”

Along the way, a shot passed so close to her mother’s head “it sliced through a few strands of her hair,” the daughter said.

They ended up at a camp on the Thai-Cambodian border. Her mother went back to get her father, who had remained behind. For three months, she stayed with other relatives at the camp.

Her parents reappeared. A brother was born. The family moved to another refugee camp in Thailand. There was a roof over their heads. Once a month, officials passed out food. “We would wait in line and wait in line,” Chuop said.

To pass the time, there was a TV. The little girl was fascinated by American TV shows, by images of what seemed to be a very attractive life in big cities.

“I thought the pictures were nice. Beautiful. The buildings. The skyscrapers. And the streets were so clean.”

An aunt in the San Fernando Valley, her mother’s sister, was trying to get them to the United States. After three years, she got them to another refugee camp, in the Philippines. Back to the food lines for another year.

Finally, paperwork completed, the family flew to Los Angeles, to be welcomed by their extended family in the Valley. Her first impression of her new home still lingers: “I thought it was so beautiful. In my country everything was so . . . poor.”

She learned English by planting herself in front of the TV. “Sesame Street” became a quick favorite: “I learned English from Big Bird, Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy.”

It was not so hard, she said, to assimilate. In high school, she made friends and adopted an Americanized name, Shauna. “It’s good to be in L.A., even though there are all kinds of bad things going on,” she said. “There’s a lot of good going on, too. I like being a part of it. It’s fun.”

It was also, she said, liberating. In Cambodia, she probably would have been engaged at 15 and wed at 18.

“An arranged marriage? No, no, no, no, no!” she said, laughing. “Here, a family gives a daughter freedom to go out. At 18, you’ve got that freedom. Shopping. The beach. Magic Mountain.

“In my country, you have to put on a costume. A big skirt. Ugh. In the United States, you can wear whatever you want,” like leotards and jeans. “Why not be comfortable?”

“Mainly, though, over here you’ve got opportunity. You could work at a big company. Maybe work with computers. Whatever, as long as you have the strength and work hard. Over there, if you’re from a poor family--nothing.”

Last year, Chuop graduated from Canoga Park High. Now she works full time at a family owned Sherman Oaks doughnut store, saving cash for college, where she hopes to study nursing.

Taking the citizenship test, she said, was the next logical step. Her mother said she would wait to take the test. But to her delight, her father, Sam, said he wanted to take it, too.

For the daughter, the material was easy. “I had learned it all in high school. George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, the Constitution, you know.”

But for her father, working long hours at the family’s other doughnut store, in Encino, it was tougher. She undertook the task of tutoring him.

“I’d ask: ‘What about the Bill of Rights? Who was the first president? Who discovered America? How many stars on the flag?”

*

The tutoring never stopped. Amid the racks of eclairs and croissants, she kept the questions flying.

“What’s the highest court in the land? Who’s the mayor? How many senators from each state?”

A few months ago, father and daughter took the test--and passed handily. Then, on the last day of March, at the downtown Convention Center, they were sworn in as new citizens.

A country singer sang. The American flag was waved about. There were corn dogs and cold cuts.

“I felt so proud to be an American,” she said. “It’s not silly. It’s not corny. It’s just, I feel so proud to be an American.”

This Fourth of July, she said, the family will probably have a barbecue at home, then check out the fireworks, maybe at one of the piers. “I made it here,” Dara Chuop said. “I’m alive. And this country just amazes me.”