My Vietnam, Your Vietnam

by Christina Vo, Nghia M. Vo

A chronicle of the divergent journeys of a father, who fled post-war Vietnam on a small boat to find refuge in the United States, and his American-born daughter, who ventures to Vietnam as an adult, capturing the stark contrast between their perspectives as they strive to heal the longterm wounds of war.

In this dual memoir, Christina Vo and her father, Nghia M. Vo, delve into themes of identity and heritage, with intertwined stories that present a multifaceted portrayal of Vietnam and its profound influence on shaping both familial bonds and individual identities across time.

Nghia left Vietnam in April 1975 with only the clothes on his back, following the US withdrawal of troops and the fall of Saigon. After a harrowing two month journey, he found himself in a refugee camp outside Harrisburg, Pennsylvania where he began the painful process of reconnecting with his family and rebuilding his life as a medical doctor. He never spoke about Vietnam with his daughter, Christine, who grew up in the US, As a restless young adult, she felt a longing to discover her heritage and soon moved to Hanoi, to experience a Vietnam that had changed dramatically since the war, yet retained some of the ancient traits she experienced in her own father.

Captivating in its evocative depictions of place, My Vietnam, Your Vietnam deepens readers' understanding and appreciation of Vietnam and the path to healing the savage wounds of war.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Asia, Biography, Biography Memoir, War, Audiobook

360 pages, Paperback

First published April 16, 2024

About the author

Christina Vo is a Santa Fe-based author whose work delves into themes such as loss, intergenerational trauma, healing, identity, and the notions of home and reconciliation. Her second book, My Vietnam, Your Vietnam, is an intergenerational memoir co-written with her father. Christina is also the author of The Veil Between Two Worlds: A Memoir of Silence, Loss, and Finding Home. With a background in international work, Christina has experience at UNICEF, the World Economic Forum, and various nonprofits. She currently works at Stanford University and holds an MSc from the London School of Economics.

Reviews

[Kathleen Dang · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dry eyes were hard to maintain while reading about memories of the war and family dynamics that hit close to home; it made me feel nostalgic for the Vietnam I know and the one I’ll only learn about through stories like these. The dual memoir style was innovative and intriguing as a concept, but there was an unexpected lack of harmony between the perspectives and overall direction in the writing, and I felt the plot structure within chapters was consequently repetitive. Stylistic qualms aside, it’s been moving to see more South Vietnamese voices pop up in literature over the years, and I’m glad I added this to my bookshelf in honor of 4/30 and AAPI month.

[Ashley : bostieslovebooks · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you Three Rooms Press for the gifted ARC book.

MY VIETNAM, YOUR VIETNAM caught my attention for being a dual memoir – Nghia M. Vo fled post-war Vietnam for the US in 1975; his American-born daughter, Christina Vo traveled as an adult to Vietnam. Each has different perspectives of the homeland they share and though they have love for one another, their relationship is strained, which comes through in their writing and the format of the book. Insightful and poignant, MY VIETNAM, YOUR VIETNAM is a beautiful story of home and healing. I highly recommend this one.

[Linh Brashaw · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a wonderful book! We just came back from Vietnam and now I have a better understanding of perhaps my parents’ perspective of Vietnam and why the country has such a hold on my heart. Wonderful!

[thewanderingjew · Rating 4 out of 5]

My Vietnam, Your Vietnam, A Father Flees. A Daughter Returns, Christina Vo and Nghia M. Vo,
authors of a dual memoir.
This book is an interesting perspective on the immigrant experience. One side is written by a person who fled war and persecution, who feels lucky to have enriched his life in his adopted country, America, and lucky for having achieved success; he feels accepted. The other, is written by his daughter, born in America, but who yearns for a connection to her father, taciturn by nature and background. She yearns to learn more about her heritage and her parents’ birth countries. She feels something is missing from her life. Because of his upbringing and the Vietnamese culture, her father never opens up to her to share his life completely, and that is a disappointment both to the daughter and the reader. When the book ended, I felt desperate for more. I wanted a more complete vision of what was accomplished by both of them, from their experiences. Did they have any great “aha” moments? It seemed, however, that like father, like daughter, for both sides of this memoir seemed to be written a bit clinically, and lacked emotional context.
With her need to discover who she was, Christina decided to visit Vietnam. She traveled first to Hanoi, a place her father rejected. She then went to Saigon and then back again to Hanoi. She liked different aspects of each city. Only in her very early twenties, her first job was an internship for no pay. However, by the time she felt ready to think about leaving Vietnam, and returning to America to live, it was almost a decade later. By that time, she had also worked for the United Nations, another job that did not seem to fulfill her needs. After approximately a total of 11 years, she returned to her birth country, the United States. Often, because she was searching for something she herself could not identify, she was not sure of what she needed or wanted and remained unsatisfied.
The short chapters pretty much alternate between the father and the daughter, but sometimes they seemed disconnected, with one having little to do with the other. Still, the description of the country and what it meant to both of them as a homeland, created beautiful images of the landscape. I would have liked a more comprehensive connection between their two experiences, and I thought that perhaps there would be a second book to follow, one that would elaborate more fully on their relationships and experiences in Vietnam. At the end, it seemed to me that where each was born, and what life gave them early on, informed most of their desires, ideas and experiences they sought.
Nghia Vo fled Saigon when the Communists invaded, but Christine was drawn to Hanoi and the Communist community because of its structure. Her father’s village, in Saigon, lacked the structure she craved, but offered the easygoing lifestyle and family connection that she missed. Unlike Nghia, who embraced whatever moment he was in, wanting desperately to be part of his adopted country, Christina consistently felt like an outsider, unable to embrace the experience fully.
The writing style of both father and daughter are engaging and inviting. I felt immediately welcomed into their world to discover about both their past and their present. Their descriptions were filled with the imagery of a country that is known for the beauty of its landscape and the gentleness of what is described as a peace-loving people, busy enjoying life at a leisurely pace before an enemy descended upon them. I had some difficulty with the language and names of the locales, as I had no idea how to pronounce them, but I tried not to let that distract me, so it did not prevent me from learning about their experiences or appreciating their necessary adjustments each time. I also discovered, from the narrative, what I had suspected would be revealed, that some believed that America had interfered, perhaps, in a place and conflict it did not belong. Was America responsible for a lot of the ensuing suffering or was the rescue of those who fled a bigger redeeming feature.
Immigration is tricky. If one is not willing to be part of the melting pot and insists on being a piece of the stew, can one fully integrate into their new country or will that person remain an outsider, eventually working to obstruct any effort to embrace them? In essence, from the start, America was a country completely populated by immigrants, so aren’t we all, in a sense, “other”, or “outside” the circle? I was left wondering if the immigrant experience was not what the immigrant made of it, or did it depend on the ability to blend into the society adopted. Physically and mentally, there is great variation. Lifestyle and living conditions vary as well. Is it possible to be really happy if you simply create a small version of your past life in your new one, or are you better off becoming a new person in your new life? Regardless of the choice, immigrants face a challenging future and their children sometimes face an unknown background and cannot find a comfortable place for themselves where they feel a part of the world they have been thrust into by others.

[Thanh Vu · Rating 5 out of 5]

Christina Vo's book of My Vietnam, Your Vietnam is a dual memoir that explores her journey of connecting to her Vietnamese heritage and her father's journey to leaving behind his war-torn country and building a new life in a new country. It was so refreshing to read Mr. Nghia Vo's journey as it was so detailed and reflective. Many of us children whose parents also fled Vietnam hear stories from our parents and this added to my understanding of my own parents. Growing up and living in the same household, there was such a communication and cultural barrier. I felt so seen by My Vietnam, Your Vietnam. This book would be a wonderful conversation start between parents and children, especially with the Vietnamese version published. Thank you for sharing both of your stories, Christina and Mr. Nghia.

[Royal · Rating 5 out of 5]

Christina and Nghia Vo's My Vietnam, Your Vietnam is a father-daughter dual memoir about the father leaving Vietnam as a refugee and Christina returning in her adulthood. Christina writes about Vietnam with such wide-eye curiosity of her discoveries in Vietnam and a persistent longing for her dad’s approval that it is hard not to root for her. I also love that she presents a warm and contrasting perspective of both Hà Nội and Sài Gòn, especially in the context of not having any preconceived notions of either side before visiting. Her writing style is more conversational and down-to-earth, juxtaposed to her dad’s beautiful and lyrical memories.

Nghia (Christina’s father) writes with such elegance and love for Vietnam, especially Vũng Tàu and Sài Gòn that it makes me also long to visit. Both father and daughter are exemplary and intellectual writers and write with such keen observations of the themes of belonging and cultural identity. They also both travel quite a bit, so it was interesting to hear about their experiences with Vietnamese communities in different states across the US and cities in Vietnam.

As a note, I also had the privilege to attend an author talk with Christina and learned that the book cover is designed by a Vietnamese artist, with father and daughter wearing the same outfit but looking in opposite directions. This is a perfect parallel to show how their paths do not intersect but they change and inspire each other in an extraordinary way.

[Amy M. Le · Rating 5 out of 5]

My Vietnam, Your Vietnam sheds light on how the dichotomy of two lives can bring harmony and peace, dovetailing past and present with trauma and joy to unearth the meaning of forgiveness. A father sojourns to America where his future starts to only have his daughter sojourn back to Vietnam decades later to where his roots began. A soul-stirring tale told by father and daughter of their relationship to Vietnam and to each other.

At the heart of My Vietnam, Your Vietnam, is one’s journey to inner peace and balance. Two souls with different perspectives but one common desire… to know and understand one another. A father and daughter reconnect to find balance in their relationship through the anchors of Vietnam.

The pendulum of life and viewpoints between father and daughter couldn’t swing farther apart in this dual memoir. How bare the threads that stitch two lives together yet weave a bond that is undeniably strong. My Vietnam, Your Vietnam is an engrossing dual memoir of two generations steeped in loss and forged in trust. Beautifully written and a triumphant homage to one’s homeland.

[kathy · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was absolutely an amazing read about a father (Nghia) and daughter (Christina) and their different views of Vietnam. Nghia was born in Vietnam, but fled when Vietnam started changing. He was a doctor and treated war victims. He made his way to the United States where his family grew.

Christina, a Vietnamese American, decides to go to Vietnam to learn about her dad's home country and to really feel part of the Vietnamese community. She doesn't know the language very well, but when she goes to Vietnam, she has an appreciation and grows to love her culture.

I loved reading how Nghia and Christina both love Vietnam, but obviously in a different capacity as the Vietnam Nghia grew up in is different from Christina's visit/stay in Vietnam. It was also nice to read how Christina didn't feel like she fit in her American community, but she was part of a community in Vietnam. I could definitely relate to this book and what's funny is that I'll be going to my dad's home country later this year and hopefully experience life in that area that he grew up in, even though it is totally different from when he lived there.

[Nancy · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was an interesting story. I appreciated seeing Vietnam from the two points of view. I was surprised by the lack of connection between the two stories. I think I expected there to be more of a conversation between father and daughter. Instead there was a history of the family and Vietnam through the father's eyes and the story of the daughter's journey to more awareness of her Vietnamese self. It seemed sad to me that there was no exchange or learning from one to the other. I'm grateful to Edelweiss and Three Rooms Press for providing an advance copy for me to read in exchange for my honest review.

[Amy M. Le · Rating 5 out of 5]

My Vietnam, Your Vietnam sheds light on how the dichotomy of two lives can bring harmony and peace, dovetailing past and present with trauma and joy to unearth the meaning of forgiveness. A father sojourns to America where his future starts to only have his daughter sojourn back to Vietnam decades later to where his roots began. A soul-stirring tale told by father and daughter of their relationship to Vietnam and to each other.

[Hang Tran · Rating 5 out of 5]

As someone deeply immersed in reflecting on my first-generation immigrant experience, "My Vietnam, Your Vietnam" arrived at a pivotal moment in my life. At 37, I am actively navigating a profound healing journey, unpacking familial trauma stemming from my family's harrowing escape from Vietnam after the Fall of Saigon. Discovering Christina Vo’s books, including "My Vietnam, Your Vietnam,” as well as, "The Veil Between Two Worlds," which I also highly recommend, felt serendipitous and deeply timely.

Christina’s courageous exploration alongside her father, weaving their shared history, his war experiences, and the profound silences between them, provided a roadmap for my own path toward healing. It's rare for children of refugees to access their parents' full stories, let alone comprehend the immense weight they carry. My own father fought in the South Vietnam Air Force, enduring imprisonment after Saigon’s fall, while my mother faced unimaginable hardships, including the loss of my eldest sister. These experiences left painful gaps in our family narrative—gaps that Christina’s memoir empowered me to begin filling. Her work reaffirmed the importance of bridging these divides for future generations, ensuring they fully grasp the depth of our family's struggles and sacrifices.

The book’s alternating narratives between father and daughter form a bridge between generations, shedding light on how two perspectives—one forged in the pain of war, the other in the longing for connection—can create a whole that heals both the individual and the family. As Christina and her father walk different paths to reconciliation, it reminded me that identity is not fixed. It’s a living, breathing thing shaped by personal experience, familial bonds, and the land that connects us all.

Christina’s narrative provided me with a clear sense of direction, becoming my beacon in moments of deep uncertainty. Her willingness to openly address trauma, identity, and healing has illuminated the way for children of war to finally share their truths, inspiring me to carry this torch forward. I'm encouraged more than ever to share my story, honor my parents' sacrifices, and strengthen the foundation for those who follow.

My Vietnam, Your Vietnam uniquely captures the interwoven threads of father-daughter narratives in a manner I've rarely encountered. Reading their reflections side-by-side felt affirming and deeply validating, showing me clearly that despite generational divides, the universal longing for understanding and reconciliation can bind us tightly together.

Thank you, Christina, for your courage and bravery. Your memoir has given me hope, inspired me to continue doing the hard work, and empowered me to reclaim my own voice in this ongoing story. You have illuminated a path forward for all of us navigating the complex legacy of the Vietnamese refugee experience.

[Kathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I thoroughly enjoyed this book! I loved the duality of the perspectives/experiences of Vietnam, and loved seeing how their journeys were different, but also similar. The beginning kinda dragged on a little bit for me, as I was not too invested in their stories yet, but eventually by half-way through the book, I was hooked.

I loved reading about Saigon/Ha Noi, and Vietnam in general in Christina's perspective. I spent some time in Vietnam as a kid, going every few summers, but have been wanting to go back as an adult, without my parents, and really explore Vietnam on my own. I would love to visit Ha Noi and see its "charm."

However, I wished they delved more in depth with their relationships.. like Nghia and his wife, Alice, etc. Or Christina and her Swedish boyfriend or other boyfriend? I know this book was focused primarily on their relationship with Vietnam, but as primarily a romance reader, I wish I got moreeeee. Like Christina briefly talked about getting over a heartbreak during her 3rd stint in Ha Noi, but I knew nothing about how deep the relationship was, who even the relationship was with... Same with Nghia and his wife. I did not read anything really about the grief he experienced after his wife died.. Or even after his divorce with Alice.

I can, however, relate with Christina's strained relationship with her father, and her father being a man of few words. I have my own strained relationship with my Vietnamese father, so a lot of her struggle hit close to home. Her dad's email at the end was so short and succinct, but made me tear up.. "Here are my edits. Good luck" (something like that, I am paraphrasing, lmao)

Overall, this was an enjoyable read. I loved learning more about the motherland, in both a historical perspective and a modern day perspective.

[Alexis]

i feel like it would be kind of weird to rate a book that discusses someone’s personal experiences lol so i won’t. it was really interesting to see someone talk about their experience when mine is kind of similar, just pushed back around 20 or so years (my parents didn’t leave vietnam during the peak of the war). the stories were moving, and i’m glad that christina worked out her issues at the end. the style of the memoir was cool too but i wish they intersected more instead of being such different storylines. one of the things i was wishing for most was to see some type of mutual understanding and reconciliation, but that didn’t really appear which was a little sad. but i also understand that could be ongoing behind-the-scenes, so maybe sometime in the future!

[Kimberly Hauge · Rating 4 out of 5]

I appreciated the efforts the father and daughter made at trying to share their story side by side, with such different styles and points of view.

[Jesse Marie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the first book I’ve picked up and read cover to cover likely since 2018 that was not for a school project. I am a Vietnamese adoptee reading in hopes to connect myself to the Vietnamese culture through words since the current times don’t allow me to explore like Christina did. It was a lovely depiction of both hers and her fathers relationship with the country and taught me all about how Vietnam isn’t one thing for everyone, yet it can be many different things for each person who finds themselves connected to the country.

I may have found some typos in the text which is why I gave it only 4 stars.

[Justin · Rating 4 out of 5]

I learned about the intergeneration trauma that resulted from the Vietnam war

I find it alarming how so many of the author's family/extended family members passed away almost immediately due to cancer, perhaps it is due to the turmoil of the war

At times I found it much more bearable to read the father's account than the daughter's account; the pessimistic and unfair perspective is that the daughter, at times, seems spoiled and ungrateful for the sacrifices that her father made (very american attitude). But clearly, as she writes in the ending, she has come to understand and love her father over the years

[Christina Grenier · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book! Such a beautiful, moving and powerful story with a lot of narratives that I related to being half American and half Central American. I denied my roots from my latin mother for a very long time, growing up in a very white middle-upper class neighborhood. We never spoke spanish at home and of course, my father was American. But I look like the spinning image of mother so I was teased a lot growing up (more like bullied). It wasn't until I got much older than I became to embrace my mother's side and immediately feel at home when we visit Latin America.

I hope the writer continues to write more books as I really appreciated how she was able to convey her inner struggles of identity and insight into herself.

[Cristina Deptula · Rating 5 out of 5]

My Vietnam, Your Vietnam explores the intergenerational immigrant experience by intertwining the story of a young woman exploring her heritage by living and working in Vietnam during her twenties with that of her father, a military man and surgeon who fled the nation for America after the Vietnam War.

This elegant shared memoir highlights the underlying commonalities of their experiences. While on the surface their journeys were quite different, both Christina and her father Nghia experienced the dislocation, homesickness, curiosity, grief, sorrow, adventure, and resilience that often come with traveling from one country to another.

Full of fascinating details about the vibrant and colorful places Christina and Nghia called home, the book offers up enough information on Vietnamese history and culture to give the story context without detracting from the narrative flow. It's also the story of how Christina comes to understand and relate to her father as an adult. We see how she learns about the stories and events that have shaped him and begins to see the complex person he is in his own right, above and beyond the relationship that she has with him.

The story also carries an undertone of grief and loss, with the war and other personal losses as a backdrop. Near the end, Christina realizes that she and her father both grieve past versions of Vietnam they have come to love.

This poignant tale is worth a read and sure to inspire empathy and conversation.

[anh thư · Rating 3 out of 5]

I give this one 3.5

I found this book clever in its writing and here's why: When I read through the father's chapters, I often felt that the narrator wanted to keep us at a distance. A story that was deeply personal was rendered factual, informational, sometimes laconic. And that's precisely how the daughter described him, a man of few words. In the daughter's chapters, I was taken aback by awkward Vietnamese sentences like "Hôm nay có bị bệnh?". She mentioned many times that her Viet was not proficient during those years; what a great "show, don't tell"!

I really warmed up to the father by the end of the book. His personality remained the same (so was his narration style), but I liked how he managed to find himself in the end. The daughter's story, on the other hand, left me perplexed. She kept saying she wanted to go to Vietnam to find herself and to understand her family's history, etc. She went alone several times and that is very commendable. But from this book alone, I can't tell whether she came out of this more rooted; she spent most of her time there in an expat bubble, resisting to learn the language, meeting with her local family only twice..? It felt like she found more peace in the relationship with her father than in the one with herself.

[Elizabeth Nguyen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was hooked on "My Vietnam Your Vietnam" from the opening words of the foreword written by father Nghia. As a Vietnamese-American myself, I had never heard the legend of how our people came from the divorce of Lac Long Quan and Fairy Au Co. In a country so steeped in traditional family values, knowing that our very origins came from a deep divide within the family itself helps to explain the war and division that has been a part of Vietnam's identity and fabric. I have never read a memoir written from both the perspective of a second generation Viet Kieu and her father. Reading them both side by side was a very enriching and informative experience. I highly recommend this book.

[Eduardo Santiago · Rating 4 out of 5]

I doubt that either author intended this as a case study in intergenerational trauma and avoidant attachment, but there were few moments where those didn't feel front and center. N. Vo's story, from parental abandonment in childhood through war and exile and integration in a new country, med school hazing, and deaths of loved ones, forms a sobering complement to his daughter C. Vo's memoir of indecision, insecurity, and longing.

The alternating-voice gimmick is more effective than it has any right to be. Either memoir, taken on its own, would be powerful. Interwoven as they are, they're heartwrenching.

[Kaye · Rating 4 out of 5]

very cool read! have never read a dual memoir, so this was a really cool idea. i loved the sheer amount of perspectives showcased, and i felt like things were covered in such great detail and thought.

i do think that there were times the voices felt a bit disconnected and the chronology was spread around in a sometimes odd way? but i do think that reading them as sort of separate journal entries did a lot for me. i also think the epilogue really tied things together.

love to see southeast asian voices on the shelves, and a new addition to books that give me more thoughts on being asian-american!

[Bryan Vo · Rating 3 out of 5]

something about growing up in little saigon makes these books feel so unrelatable - like i'm just reading about someone's spiral through unsuccessful therapy. I thought the history and storyline were really interesting, even if the main characters don't seem to go anywhere. read it because your great aunt tells you to but I wouldn't bank on any new life insights with this. lots of further reading to reference though

[Carol · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 In the end I didn't get the sense that they were any closer to understanding each other regarding their Vietnamese roots. Her story seemed less interesting to me. She worked there but I didn't feel the growth of her understanding of her father's perception of Vietnam. He definitely had trauma and loss that wasn't comparable to hers?

[Florine]

I wished the last chapter had started the book to get a better context. The structure and style thre me off for most of the book. The last quarter of the book was the strongest to me when both are slightly more vulnerable and we glimpse some emotions.

[Lauren · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was really good! It borrowed it as research for a book club about the Vietnam War. It was interesting to read the story of someone who was able to evacuate from Vietnam at the end of the war.

[Tasha · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars. Both Christina and her father's writing felt distant. I felt the heart of the story at the end when they both wrote about Lyne dying. I also felt myself wanting more juice out of Christina's early days in Vietnam.

[Betty · Rating 2 out of 5]

Way to disconnected. It should simply have been 2 books!

[Cookie · Rating 3 out of 5]

As a daughter of Vietnamese immigrants, I thought this book could be really interesting. I would have liked to see a bit more depth to both stories and weaving of common themes.