Catfish and Mandala: A Two-Wheeled Voyage through the Landscape and Memory of Vietnam

Pham writes in this chapter about returning to his old neighborhood in Saigon. He says that every morning during his visit with his family, Granduncle brings him a freshly prepared cup of Vietnamese coffee. He knows it is a luxury they can ill afford and feels guilty when he dumps it in the toilet because it is too sweet for him to drink. Instead, he gets some tea and climbs up on the roof. Looking down into the alley, the view reminds him of his childhood room at home in Saigon. It was a tiny space, six by eight feet, built into the landing between floors. He writes, “From the windowsill, my favorite reading spot, I watched, smelled, and listened to the alley-world outside” (95). 

Pham’s parents didn’t allow him to play outside, so he spent all his time watching the alley from his room. His parents sometimes locked him in the house when they went away on business trips. He had a friend who lived in the house behind theirs and, as they were both kept inside, they would talk to each other from their doorways. She would turn on the TV in her house, and together they would watch cartoons—Pham with the help of binoculars.