Viet:The Happiest Mailman Ever!

52 Stories in 52 Weeks: ## 23 Viet The Happiest Mailman Ever!* (based on a mailman's story)

By: Mr. George D. Patnoe., Jr.'s Ambidextrous Brain + Mind.

Viet the mailman had started his mail route every day in Vietnam, just as he had for each summer during the summer break from the State University. Viet had learned to study ever since he was in grade school and high school in Vietnam. Delivering mail by bicycle to the country people was ok by Viet because he liked riding his bike in the countryside and he needed the money for food and supplies, like most other college students around the world. As Viet delivered mail, his leather mail bag hang around his shoulder as he peddled from one building to another building. Handing out mail to every person on his mail route seemed like a big responsibility, thought Viet, because every person wanted their mail. At night, Viet would also wonder about all of those white spots in the sky.

One day, Viet took a break from delivering mail to read a state newspaper, leaving him a few minutes to look at the newspapers headlines: ‘US Troops Headed To Vietnam to help the government defend itself from the communist Vietcong (a member of the communist guerrilla movement in Vietnam that fought the South Vietnamese government forces 1954-75 with the support of the North Vietnamese army and opposed the South Vietnamese and US forces in the Vietnam War. Viet wondered what the future held for him and his country. Torn between the current government and the revolutionaries, Viet thought that helping the American soldiers to defend South Vietnam against the communists and communism (A political theory derived from Karl Marx, who advocated a class war which would led to a society in which all property is publicly owned and each person works and is paid according to their abilities and needs.) Viet wondered how America’s military and their political ideal of democracy (a system of government by and of the whole population, usually by voting) and capitalism (an economic and political system in which a country’s trade and industry are controlled by private owners for profit, rather than by the state) in Vietnam would change the common people who normally had no control over their everyday lives, nor of their future. But in times of change, sometimes a person has no choice but to take the best path for the future, even if success is deemed small at best and death seems likely.

One day, the South Vietnam government began ordering all men to join the miliary service once it was realized that South Vietnam would have no choice but to defend itself against North Vietnam, as well as the insiders in South Vietnam who wanted to overthrow their current government. Therefore, the poor people were trapped in the middle of the political battle of words, and in the middle of guns and bullets and bombs. So Viet the mailman became Viet the soldier.

In no time at all, Viet had entered the military with the hope of just delivering mail to soldiers, but instead he had surrendered his freedom to begin his military career as most young men; dressing in a green uniform, sleeping in a long barracks with lots of other young men, eating the same boring food everyday, doing a lot of physical exercise, and learning about guns and bombs and weapons and killing people or the enemy. He wished that he had somewhere to go so he could escape the uncontrollable complex changes that were overtaking Vietnam and its people. Everyday, every soldier was awoken by the bugle’s horn and while they ate the same food and dressed in the same green uniforms before a long jog in the morning, most of them wished they had somewhere to go for to escape the radical changes ahead of them; but there was no escape. Instead, they learned about weapons and the miliary way of life, along with the political ideals that the government wanted every young solider to learn. And then there were the Americans soldiers, who would bring new ideas and a new way of life to Viet’s country. What would that mean? During the night training, Viet would sometimes look up towards the sky and wonder if other creatures in the universe were fighting over political ideals too.

Viet worked his way up to the ranks of the military ladder, to find himself an officer over a group of men. He was trained by the American soldiers who had bigger muscles and bigger weapons than the Viet and his soldiers, but Viet and his countrymen had the bigger spirt to defend their home country Even so, the American soldiers seemed friendly enough, that is, until they had to kill. When Viet ate with the American soldiers, he heard them talk about their families and even about American politics, about democracy and capitalism. Most of America’s soldiers wanted to defend South Vietnam from Communist and they wanted to help spread America’s ideals of government and economics. Those ideals were never in the daily newspapers as were the ideals of government and society called Communism and Marxism. Sometimes, he wondered how these dedicated soldiers could be so friendly and family oriented, and yet hey would sometimes joke about heir own governmental leaders. Viet knew that he would never ever speak a single word against his government. The war was a war, what else is there to say about death and killing!

One day, Viet and his military company was caught off guard, when they were captured by the VC. The VC put Viet into a prison labor camp for six years, forcing Viet the soldier to became Viet the prisoner. From an officer to a prisoner in the same amount of time it takes a bullet to kill them. The first day of slaved labor in the rice fields was a calm day for Viet, only because he knew that the bullets had stopped flying at him. The cool water on his feet and legs did not seem as bad as the blood of war he had experienced daily during the war, and even in his dreams the night before, as he slept on the wooden bed, in the hot air, with a very hungry stomach. As he peeked around the rice fields, he saw the guards with guns. They were still in the war state of mind, as if killing was no problem for them, but Viet was really tired of killing and death. But he knew that people had killed for less than political power, and the control over harmless and innocent people, who only want to work the fields so they could make a living by selling rice and other natural supplies. At night, Viet would look up through the holes in the roof and he would look at the stars and wonder if other people around the world were being held prisoner because of political ideals. This was especially true when the guards did not feed Viet after a long day in the fields.

Thousands of times, Viet had thought about a plan of escape, but he knew that even if he did escape, the communist party had grown to such a huge number of people, that there would be no escape from Vietnam without help from family and friends, who were not allowed to talk or see Viet. Everyday, Viet woke up with the same question in his mind, ‘When will they let me go?’ but there was never a hint of freedom from the rice fields, or from the guards, or from the communist government. Only within his dreams would Viet dream of freedom from hunger, from guards, from the slaved labor in the rice fields, from the communist government who believed not in America’s freedoms of political and religious ideals. But America was located on the other side of the globe, and so was his freedom.

After the first year of working ten hours in the rice fields for nothing but a few bowls of rice each day, Viet had sometimes wished he had been shot by a bullet, but then again, what he really wished for was for freedom from a war between political ideals from different men and cultures. He wished to be free from having to work for nothing except free breathable air for ten hours a day, day after day, every week after week, year after year. The math would be ten hours a day, for six days a week, for 52 weeks a year, for six years, for a grand total of (10 x 6 x 52 x 6 years = 18,720 hours of slaved labor: but six years is six years). Viet would translate those hours into American dollars. At ten dollars a hour, he realized that he would have earned 180,720, instead of working for air to breathe.

After six years, Viet was let go from the prison camp because times were changing for the whole country. Now, Viet the prisoner become Viet the outcast. Viet went looking for a real job in Vietnam, but he was an outsider in his own country. Because he had supported the American’s democracy and capitalism, Viet could not get hired by anyone in Vietnam. He discovered a dream that would give him a life of democracy and capitalism.

At the begging of the seventh year, Viet had an idea, ‘Why not find a way to America.’

So there was the answer! If America could not get to him, he would get to America. Viet secretly started to gather information by asking family members to search out the people who could help Viet escape from Vietnam. A part of him was sad, while Viets rejoiced over a possibility of new life in America.

Viet’s family and friends had arranged Viet to escape from Vietnam by a small boat; a boat named, ‘3 Little Pigs. It would carry 17 other people. Viet the outcast then became Viet the escapee. Once on board, Viet knew that he might be saying good-bye to his family and Vietnam forever. Viet stepped onto the boat after he said good-bye and the boat sailed away, forever. Five days and four nights did the boat travel over the South Chine Sea, from Vietnam’s Ho Chi Minh City to Indonesia’s Natuna Islands. While Viet and the others sat on that boat, only two views starred back at them, the oceans horizon or the stars above the South China Sea. Viet and some of the others choose to look up towards the stars with silent prayers of hope and faith, as they tried to figure what all of those bright lights were in the dark sky.

When the boat had reached land, Indonesia’s Natuna Islands, Viet held onto this official papers as he found himself talking to an American representative who signed the needed papers that officially allowed Viet into America’s way of life. Viet could not wait to discover the differences between Vietnam’s communism and America’s democracy and capitalism.

As Viet waited at a small airport, he had lost any hope for the past, as he barely held onto the memories of a life of fear, that was disappearing by way of an airplane. As Viet handed the stewardess his boarding ticket , he felt as if the hand of the God was pushing him from one dream to another dream. If there is an afterlife, maybe it is like this, wondered Viet. Viet never looked back to say good-bye to his past. Viet had never been in an airplane before, so he just sat down like everyone else. When the stewardess started to hand out drink and the meal, Viet felt as if he was a king, compared to the prison life under the communist government.

Flying over Vietnam, he realized that the bombers also had the same view as they were dropping bombs from their airplanes. Bombs to stop the communist believers who wanted everyone in their society to be a slave to the government. Viet hoped that America was not like that, but he knew that he would soon find out. As Viet sat back in his long flight to America, he knew that he would have to learn a whole new way of life; a life of freedom instead of fear.

When he heard the captain’s announcement that the airplane would be landing in America in twenty minutes, he felt more awake than he had before. Viet the escapee became Viet the American vistor. America and the freedom for which it stood for; what was it like living in a country where the communist fear was not a part of everyday life? He had only seen a few pictures of America from the soldiers who carried pictures with them during the war, but now he was there, ready to live again by experiencing a whole new life. As he exited the plane, everyone treated Viet with a kindness that he not experienced before. Were all of America’s people like this he wondered.

As Viet met his connection in the airport, he was led to a taxi outside the airport. As soon as they started to drive around town, Viet could not believe his eyes. The tall buildings, so many cars, and so many kinds of people. Viet thought to himself, ‘I have never seen so many kinds of people who are all dressed up.’ So many stores too. And places to eat. There were the American fast food restaurants, the Chinese restaurants, and even the Vietnam restaurants. Viet could not believe his eyes. Vietnam restaurants in America. Wow. All that he needed was a job; somewhere warm he hoped. Not much snow in Vietnam.

After all of the legal papers were taken care of, Viet decided that he wanted a rather simple life. After he picked up a newspaper, he read all of the job listings in the help wanted section. So many jobs for so many people. America may be the land of the free, but it was also home to the educated and the non-educated so everyone could find a job doing something. Yet, as he remembered seeing some homeless people on the streets, he wondered why they were not working.

Finally the moment arrived when he saw a job that he knew he could do. He remembered how well he loved delivering mail in Vietnam, so he decided to try to become a mailman in America. The first time he saw an America mail person, he noticed that they were so official looking, with their blue uniforms and white trucks, along with so many different kinds of stamps. When Viet learned that some people collected stamps as a hobby, he realized that people in America must have a lot of time on their hands to have so many hobbies. Life seemed really good for Americans, thought Viet. When Viet started the process of becoming a United States Postal Worker, he learned that he was going to be paid an hourly wage and that he was going to belong to a workers union and that he would even get health insurance for himself and his family. Viet wanted to become an American citizen. And who could blame him.

Once Viet had the job he wanted, he would be able to afford to bring his wife and his children to America too. The day arrived, after completing the process of becoming a United States Postal Worker, Viet started his new job. Viet the American visitor becomes Viet an American mailman. His first job was easy enough, he simply sorted mail by putting his hand into a box filled with a pile of mail and he looked at the envelope’s address so he could push the envelop into the correct slot, for each house number and street. With his first weekly check, he walked into one of America’s bookstores and he walked up and down every pass every roll of books. Viet could not believe all of the books on so many subjects; cheap too. Books on religion and money and the mind and history and America and how to learn any language and books on sex and the brain and chess and cooking and sports and art and how to become an artist and books on love and camping and wild animals and pets and movie stars and even about politics and the president of America. In Vietnam, there were only the books that the communist government allowed people to buy and read, and they were very costly too. To costly for the average working person.

Soon afterwards, after sorting mail for other US postal delivery employees, he finally received his own mail route. Viet needed to get his drivers license, so he learned to drive cars and trucks with a learners permit; but in no time at all, he took the tests for his car and truck license and he passed the first time. The first time he drove his own United States Postal Truck for his own mail route, he began to feel like a free man.

Years later, Viet found the way and means to get his wife and children to America. Once his family was with him, he found himself a home and took out a loan and after he bought his first home in America, Viet felt on top of the world. Compare to that small room in Vietnam, compared to the military barracks, compared to the prison room with the wooden bed; when Viet walked into his new home, with the softest whitest carpet, and with the new cream colored paint job, and with the new kitchen stove and refrigerator, and with the new bathroom tubs and mirrors, and with the leveled green grass in the back and front lawn, and with the yard’s sprinkler system, and with the new televisions and music systems, and with the new beds in each of the bathroom, and with the garage for the tools and the family car. With the neighbors who all seemed friendly, Viet felt as if he was in an earthly heaven, which was called America. Viet had become an American.

One night, Viet looked up towards the sky, and he wondered what those big bright lights are in the sky. So Viet stood up and he walked to his car, and he drove down to the local bookstore and he bought a few books on astrometry, and astronomy, and astrophysics. Then he drove down to the local astronomy store and he bought a big telescope. Viet then returned to his house and he setup the big telescope and he opened his books to study the stars and the universe that he had seen every night while he grew up in Vietnam, while he fought for Democracy in Vietnam, while he worked in the rice fields for six years, while sat on the boat for five days and four days. His wife and kids thought that Viet was acting a little crazy, but he just wanted to use his freedom to learn more about life and the universe. Viet had never studied astronomy while he was in Vietnam, but as he looked through the astronomy books, he glared and the pictures of the Sun, Mercury, Venus, Earth and its moon, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto, along with all of their moons.

After reading about those planets and their moons, Viet realized that there was only one known and current planet with intelligent life on it; and that planet was planet earth. The mailman Viet walked around his mail delivery route and as he put envelops into the mail boxes, Viet would every so often wonder why humans could not figure out a better way to communicate with and ideas words instead of with swords and bullets and bombs and torture and killing and death.

After looking through the astronomy books, Viet looked through the telescope’s lens to bring the planets closer to his sight. Everything seemed so simple in the cosmic universe. The planets and their moons just float around each other without colliding into each other. "A small miracle.’ thought Viet, ‘As if the hand of God moved every inch of the universe to this moment of freedom!’

* partly based on a true story from a real mailman.