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It was 1996. I got a call from a friend out of a blue, asking for my help. She had to go on a business trip for a few months and she needed me to replace her on a volunteer job. It’s an interpreter job, helping to translate to the Vietnamese women, who came to the Women’s center for help in setlling down. She gave me a tip about translation, most of these women kept on repeating the same thoughts in a few different ways, it’s not hard, just try to keep things simple, interpreting the main idea only. It’s not too bad, I thought.

When I came to the room, she was already there, curled up on the sofa, her tiny body in an overall, strips of brown hair falling down her face. She stood up half way. I extended my hand and she shook it lightly . I said I was not a counselor, I was an interpreter in case she needded help on translation. She shook her head a bit, and said in a low sweet shaking voice, that she was fine. She spoke English perfect, there must be a mistake, and I mumbled a few words that if she didn’t need help, I would be on my way out, however today was quite a busy day at the center, she might have to wait a while. Suddenly she cut me off and asked me in English:
- Do they do abortion here?
- I don’t know, I said, this is the women’s center for women to have free counseling, actually I am new and I have no idea what does the facility have, but I don’t think they have abortion here, they will refer you to the right place, I think.

I looked at her, she seemed distressed :
- Do you want anything, some water maybe, we are just waiting for the counselor. One is sick so we are kind of overload.

She shook her head a bit and I took it as a yes. I brought her some water. We sat there in silence for awhile, then suddenly she uttered:
- I already talked to my priest you know.
-?
- He didn’t give me much help, he knows my father, now I don’t want to come back home.

I was feeling a bit uneasy, should I stay to listen to this, I’m not licenced, but I saw myself sitting still, I couln’t leave her in this status.
She started biting her nails:
- You know if this child is born, he or she would be my uncle or aunt as well as my child. You see my grandfather raped me.
I looked at her in horror:
- I’m so sorry, I said, but I’m not a counselor... Humm I think you could put this child to adoption. Most girls do that, a lot of couples want kids and cannot have them, you’ll do a childless couple out there a favor.

She startled me, she almost screamed at me.
- No, I don’t want to do that. What if 15 years later, this kid go find me and ask me who her or his father is, what do I say? I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t . I cannot lie to my child, you know. She has the right to know the truth, that her father is my grandfather. Isn’t it great? The kid is my child but also my aunt or uncle. It’s no one’s problem, but mine. The priest told me to keep the child . Well, it’s not his child, it’s easy for him to say. He cannot know my feelings. The main thing is I want to stop this horror blood, it runs in the family you know. Incest, it does run in the family. I want to stop it right now with me. If they don’t allow me, I’ll kill myself you know, before I let this child grow up in shame. And do you know that incest children have a higher risk of genetic disease. Yeah, you see, I am not dumb, I do my homework. Why do I want to bring up a sick child in this world? You know, sick, sick child from a sick, sick family!

I didn’t know what to say, I was totally unprepared, lost of words, helpless. But I don't need help, this girl do. I was afraid to look at her, but when I finally laid my eyes on her, I saw that she didn’t pay much attention to me, her eyes were staring blankly at the wall.
After a bit of hesitation, I moved myself closer to the sofa, and touched her hands. She looked at me and I opened my arms. She felt into my hands, broke down and cried softly.

I don’t remember what we talked afterwards. Finally the counselor came and I left. I never asked the counselor what happened to that young lady. I was afraid to hear the answer, whatever it might be.

My friend came back, I got caught up with a lot of things, including my health that I needed to take care of. She was right I did forget about her, go on with my life. Now I see a lot of people would give her a lecture, what she should do to be right, to be human. Although it's her problem, she would be a subject for discussion, not a human to think for herself. They are not in her situation. They go home, feeling fantastic, they are sure that they do the right thing, she should definitely follow their advice, or would be condemned as a murderer. How could a woman give up a child? How could a woman end a life in her womb? What choice does she have? Who’s going through this awful feeling but herself?

tvmt
Trần Viết Minh Thanh
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