32隊: A Return Home

“I’m like your dad， we’re both huaqiao(華僑， overseas Chinese)，” a smiling man with more silver teeth than white remarks. I’m seated at a table in Xinglong (興隆)， Hainan， a small farming town， with my parents， uncles and a few friends of my father’s from the time he lived in 32隊.

My father， along with his nine siblings and parents， was relocated to 32隊 after the Vietnam War (1955-1975) made his hometown in northern Vietnam uninhabitable. Shortly after resettling in 32隊， the name given to the community district my family lived in， my father emigrated alone to the United States. I took these photos last October during my father’s second visit in over 30 years.

My grandmother was born in a village near Mong Cai， on the Vietnamese side of the border with China’s Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region. Her parents had moved to Vietnam because there were better opportunities for work on the other side of the border.

Both my grandmothers would walk across the border to sell live chickens and fish to people who lived on the other side. when the war started， my mother told me that all non-Vietnamese were forced to return to their home country. Despite the Chinese government giving refugees a home and work， my mother said that life on a farm was much more difficult than her life in Vietnam. She and her siblings cried almost every day.

Xinglong was one of many towns where the Chinese refugees were resettled. The town is divided into communities referred to as 隊’s by locals. I would consider the area to be generally quite poor. Most of the residents are either local Hainanese or huaqiao’s from various Southeast Asian countries.

They own small shops that sell meat， vegetables or fruit at local markets， or work in the numerous hotels and resorts that have recently opened in the area.

Just 10 years ago， Xinglong was nothing more than an agricultural town. However， based on the success of Sanya’s (三亞) tourism industry， developers are slowly turning farming plots into hotels， resorts and restaurants. This abandoned house is one of many in the neighborhood. Lots of people have already benefited from the development in the surrounding areas and have been able to build larger houses.

This water well used to be a feature of the old community， and there’s a story that a local man drowned here over a decade ago. Now it’s unused and filled with trash， but it’s still pretty eerie.

My grandmother and two uncles now live in a newly constructed three-story house in 32隊， paid for by my father and mother. I remember my mother telling me that the family paid someone to decorate the homes with Chinese good luck charms to bless them and ward off evil spirits.

Dogs wander the neighborhood searching for food. They were extremely skittish toward people but， during mealtimes， this particular dog would come and wait for scraps from the dinner table.

Before the house was built my grandmother and uncles lived quite modestly in a dilapidated concrete box， no bigger than my living room when I was growing up as a kid in the US. Despite the extra space， the backyard of the new house was often cluttered with plastic chairs， neighbors， motorcycles and hanging clothes.