On an UTA airplane for more than twenty-six hours with four stops in Auckland, Jakarta, Singapore and Bahrain, I arrived at last to Charles de Gaules airport in Paris. I had plenty of time to think about, rather to dream about, what could be a new adventure of my more or less vagrant life. "Sometimes I’m up sometimes I’m down, Oh yes Lord..." the Negro Spiritual song I had listened to in the 60’s seemed to sound aloud in my mind.

At the custom check, I was no more anxious nor frustrated at the same refrain "bizarre!" that the officers shouted out, sometimes aloud. An officer asked, "Vous êtes Vietnamien réfugié, mais où est votre Carte de Réfugié?" (You are a Vietnamese refugee, but where is your Refugee Card?) As I was used to, I shook my head in smiling. In turn, he shook his head looking at me. But in the end, he stamped my so-called travel document and stateless ID folder. It had taken more than an hour for me to be able to get out of the custom checking area.

Right at the exit door, a man in his 50’s smilingly welcomed me, "You just came from Vietnam, didn’t you? How can I help you?" At his appearance, particularly by his North Vietnamese accent, I immediately recognized that he would be from Hanoi. While looking around in search for my Brothers, I replied, "No! Thanks!" Brothers Alexandre and Roger had been there amidst the crowd, waving their hands.

I recalled this short happening to Brothers Alexandre and Roger while Alexandre drove me to Drancy. Brother Roger said, "It used to happen like that before ‘75. These men were working for or at least sympathizing with the North Vietnam government. They sort of recruited new members from students of South Vietnam who just came to Paris; they paid particularly attention to priests and men and women religious whose ID had been disclosed to them, nobody knew how..."

So I officially and legally became a member of the Drancy Community at rue Raymond Bertout, on October 2, 1984. The property at rue Raymond Bertout in Drancy and the two properties in New Caledonia - one in Nouméa and one in Thio - were the sole properties that the district of Saigon had retained since the events of 1975.

The community in Drancy owned a Renault 4 car that only Brother Alexandre used to drive to work at Ecole Technique de La Salle à Saint Denis. Brother Bosco Bắc used to ride a bus or the métro to go to work at Collège des Enfants d’Auteuils where he had been introduced by ex-Brother Ninh Nguyen and Innocent Từ. Brother Roger Vĩnh was in charge of affairs relative to the district of Saigon. Because I had just come to Paris, the community gave me time to relax and rest, and more importantly to adapt to the new weather. In fact, by October in Paris, it was Mid-Autumn with colorful panorama I had never seen before. Indeed, in Vietnam there are only two seasons: dry and wet seasons.

For daily meals, every Brother, in turn, took care of providing the community with dinner. As for breakfast and lunch, some how and some where and whenever each one prepared his own. On my turn to cooking, while slicing beef meat for cooking with vegetables, I felt tears rolling down my eyes. That was because beef meat slices would weight heavier than vegetable. I thought, "That much beef meat for a meal just for 4, here in Drancy, would feed the whole La Salle Mossard Community of twenty members for a week!"

***

One early morning, the bell rang at the gate. Two ladies, one in her 60’s who held a big bible in her hands and another in her 20’s who held many books of different sizes, expressed their desire to talk. At first I didn’t want to open the door because there was nobody home but me who had just come and needed more rest. But the old lady insisted that "It’s very important and you’ll receive lots of good things." The first thought that came to my mind was, "C’est bon pour pratiquer parler Francais!" (It’s good opportunity to practice speaking French!) I so invited them to the parlor.

The old lady immediately concentrated on her main goal for being there today: talking about God Creator, about created universe, about a fallen mankind that needed being renewal by the Holy Ghost, etc. Starting each topic, she opened the big Bible book at the page showing the reference of the discussed topic. At the moment she spoke about the renewal power of the Holy Ghost, it seemed that she was trying to search the reference of it, I said, "Ezéchiel, chapitre 36 ou 37..." She looked at me, amazed. She stopped talking and closed the Bible book.

Looking around the parlor, the old lady seemed to pay more attention to the portrait of Saint De La Salle, then asked, "Who’s that person?" I proudly replied, "He is our Founder, Saint John Baptist De La Salle!" She stood up, approached a curtain divider then opened it a bit, looking inside. She then returned to her seat and said, "What do you think? You are devout and faithful, I guess, to God Creator, and you bow at these icons or sculptures or even images made by human hands?"

I was upset at her attitude. However, I tried to calm down, asking her, "Excuse me! Are you married?" Both ladies seemed amazed and puzzled, looking at me. A few seconds later, the old lady said, "There is nothing related to my question!" I insisted, "Why yes, a very close relation!" She replied, "I have been married, but not this young lady." I replied to her while my eyes pointed to the young lady gauging her reaction, "Well, on your wedding celebration, you have had taken photos for souvenirs, I’m sure of it. I’m also sure that you still keep these photos in at least an album as precious souvenirs of your life, won’t you?" Fearing that she was about to interrupt, I continued, "Now, even though I don’t know whether your husband is still alive, living or not, one thing I’m sure of is that from time to time, you unfold your wedding album photos, contemplate your images and your husband’s; and you might give kisses on your husband’s face on the photos while your mind is thinking of him and remembering those happy days of your life... Anyway, it’s just a piece a paper, isn’t it? It’s not your husband’s real face and body!"

Both stood up as quickly as possible and got out without any "Good bye!" After that, I didn’t see them come back lecturing me about biblical stories. I kind of regretted missing such an opportunity to practice speaking French.

***

On October 4, 1984, Brother Roger drove me to rue de Sèvres with the intention of meeting and thanking Brother Regional, Jean Marie Thouard, and the French Brothers, who had sponsored me to New Caledonia. (Cf. page 50.) The Bienvenue gift Brother Jean Marie Thouard had given me was really original: a trip to Roma attending the canonization for Brother Saint Miguel Febres Cordero, FSC on October 21, in company with the delegation of French Lasallian Family. So that I would not feel alone or lost, Brother Jean Marie Thouard allowed Brother Bosco Bắc to go with me.

On early morning of October 19, a France Airlines plane lifted from Orly airport bringing the French Lasallian delegation composed of about eighty Brothers, former students and friends, to Rome Fiumicino Airport. At the checking point, every passenger held his/her passport, ready to present legal documents at the available window. I had nothing as ID card or legal documents. The delegation leader asked, "Where is your passport?" I smilingly shook my head. He asked, "What about titre de voyage?" I again shook my head. Some passengers around me were surprised. They had known that I just came to Paris as a refugee.

The delegation leader led me to an officer, saying something I couldn’t understand because he spoke too fast. The officer looked at me, then said, "Vous êtes Frère des Ecoles Chrétiennes?" I replied, "Oui, je suis Frère Vietnamien." He nodded, smilingly sympathetic. The delegation leader continued saying a long, very long sentence that could only recognize something like "Maison Mère...", "Supérieur Général...", "Canonisation de Saint Frère Miguel..." I was allowed, at last, to enter the territory of Vatican State. The delegation, who had stood outside the airport, waiting for the delegation leader, in seeing me with him, applauded joyfully. I smilingly nodded in sign of merci beaucoup! although in my interior, I felt ashamed about my refugee status.

On the road to the hotel, I asked the delegation leader to drive me to the Mother House so that I could greet and thank Brother Superior General, but he replied, "On these days, Brother Superior General and the Brothers at the Mother House are very busy... You’ll have opportunity to visit them later."

The whole day of October 20 was for visiting the famous Vatican Museum, Sistine Chapel, and Saint Peter Basilica. Along a large and very long corridor where were displayed so many beautiful art works of several famous artists, I noticed the big framed painting of the scene of a classroom with Saint De La Salle teaching. I took a photo of it, click with flash and it’s done. I didn’t finish enjoying of the click yet, someone tapped on my shoulder: a guard in uniform waved his hand at me in saying, "No Flash!" I looked at him, smiling, then nodding and said, "C’est merveilleux!... Merci!"

On October 21, the canonization for Saint Brother Miguel Febres Cordero, FSC, was the greatest day I had ever experienced in terms of grandiose style and sumptuous ornaments, a religious ceremony at the center of the Catholic Church. Although very proud of witnessing such a "Glory of God" in the basilica, today, and the rich treasures in the museum, the day before, I couldn’t repress a vague bitter-sweet feeling in thinking of the real and existential face of human society all around the world, especially in Vietnam after the events of 1975.

The French delegation leader had smartly led us to the right side of the basilica. We had seats about 20 meters (less than 70 feet) from the central altar so that we could have a wide view on the inside of the basilica. Pope John Paul II presided at the mass of canonization for Saint Brother Miguel, FSC.

At the airport on the flight back to Paris, the delegation leader told me to accompany him to see the officer who had agreed to allow me to enter the territory of Vatican State three days earlier. The officer shook my hand and said something I didn’t understand. I replied anyway, "Merci beaucoup!" Both the officer and delegation leader laughed, sympathetically. I knew later that the delegation leader had signed a paper in sponsoring me and assuring the officer that he will bring me back to Paris after the canonization ceremony.

***

Brother Roger had experience about getting legal documents from the Prefecture de Police in Paris. He urged me to get, as soon as possible, all regularizing legal documents. The first necessary document to get was Carte de réfugié (Refugee card.) I was lucky meeting a Vietnamese officer who had known the La Salle Brothers in Vietnam before ‘75. Therefore, everything seemed pass through, without any problem. But I was to wait for the official Carte de Réfugié until mid-November. From then on, I was officially recognized as a Citoyen Vietnamien - Réfugié Politique sous la Protection Francaise (Vietnamese Nationality - Political Refugee under the French Protectorate.) Holding such refugee card in hands, I came to the Prefecture de Police in Paris applying for the Resident Card which was valid for ten years, and Titre de Voyage (Travel Documents) which was valid for only two years. On the travel document, it was stated that "the holder of this card can go to any countries, except Thailand and Vietnam. [On September 16, 1985, my youngest sister sent me a telegram informing my mother’s death. I brought the telegram and my travel document to the travel agency to get the air ticket, but the agent said, "Mes condoléances! Mais je suis désolée. Vous n’êtes pas permis d’aller au Vietnam, parce que vous êtes réfugié politique sorti du Vietnam!" (My condolence! But I’m sorry, you are not allowed to go back to Vietnam because you are a political refugee escaping from Vietnam!)]

***

One of my former students, Nguyễn Hiển Vinh, who had been arrested and put in jail at the same time with other Brothers and Juniors in Thu Duc on January 3, 1978 (Cf. Journal 1, page 208,) came to visit me. Although his parents who had come to the United States in 1982 and were preparing to sponsor him to the United States following the ODP program, he still expressed his will to join the Vietnamese Brother life in Paris. I was really happy hearing his willingness to join the Brothers’ life, but I must confess that I was at the same time embarrassed because I hadn’t ever thought about recruitment after the whole community of Mossard in Thu Duc had been arrested and put in jail. It’s true that in Nouméa, Brother Paul Lê Cừ had attempted to open a Junioriate which gathered four or five young men from different islands, but after a few months, none of them continued... Brother Paul recalled that even the Marist Brothers had been in New Caledonia for more than one hundred years, and until now they hadn’t received any new vocation from local young people.

In addition, at that times, there was no Postulant or Novice in the region of Paris. Moreover, having had to endure more than six years (1978-1984) in threatening socio-political circumstances, even my future was not stable yet. I didn’t really know how to deal with Vinh. When he had received the affidavit from his parents sponsoring him into the United States, I suggested that if he still wished to join the Brothers community, he contact any Brother in the United States.

***

The Brothers at the Drancy community had known my aspirations to visit le berceau - the original location - of the Institute, i.e. Reims, and looked for the opportunity to drive me there. L’Hôtel de la Cloche - place of birth of Saint De La Salle - was the first place to see. Then the Cathedral of Reims. Then the convent of Des Soeurs De L’Enfant Jésus where Saint De La Salle met for the first time Adrien Nyel, the one who would instill into De La Salle’s mind the very first "Holy Spirit’s impulse" calling him to commit himself to the Education Mission of "abandoned children of poor worker families."

Another famous location where Saint De La Salle seemed to be a self-assigned "refugee", i.e. escaping all sort of persecutions from both civil and religious authorities of his times, was Parménie. It was at this location that amazingly Divine Providence sent to him a "counselor" who, by every meaning of the word, had been a poor and illiterate shepherd. He, who had been a chanoine at the Reims Cathedral, and STD. in theology, was forbidden to say mass in public, i.e. at any parish!

***

The Alumni Association of former students of De La Salle schools in Rouen invited the Vietnamese Brothers at the Drancy community to a "more comprehensive and cordial meeting," welcoming and tying fraternal relationship between Eastern and Western cultures and traditions.

Brother Alexandre Ánh, Auxiliary Visitor of the so-called Sub-District of Saigon in diaspora, presented to the assembly what he called "challenging events the District of Saigon had to confront with during those fifty days of distress." (Cf. Journal 1, page 10.) Brother Roger, then treasurer of the District of Saigon, showed "How difficult and disturbing were the ‘new changing-life style’ that the communist system imposed to the whole country in general, particularly to the District of Saigon when twenty-seven establishments of the La Salle Educational System were forced to be ‘offered’ to the new government." Brother Bosco Baéc, as a life-witness, presented "How such a changing-life style has affected the Brothers, psychologically, socially and spiritually speaking." I recalled some details about "How the La Salle Mossard Community has been disbanded" and about "What the number Thirteen meant for me in my last attempt fleeing overseas." (Cf. Journal 1, page 340.), then I added, "Number Thirteen is a ‘lucky number’ isn’t it?" Everyone laughed, sympathetically.

Before dinner, some former students drove us to the place where Saint De La Salle expired on Holy Friday April 7, 1719. They then led us to the big Memorial in honor of Saint De La Salle by the city of Rouen at a vast and wonderful Rond Point, right at the center of the city.