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The night was warm and dark, the bright crescent moon lighting the dirt road. Mom was taking a 10-mile long walk to the washing area from her temporary village home in Ban Vinai Refugee Camp in Thailand. She was walking with her mother who was holding a bucket of water for washing. She remembers her mother as a stern Hmong woman who was very outspoken and loud. Her long silky black hair was wrapped tightly in a neat bun to stay out of her face. Her skin was tired and weary from several years of running and hiding from Pathet Lao soldiers in the jungles of Laos. The bucket of water was weighing her down as she carried it, but she did not pause to take a break. She never admitted that she was tired or weak. She was still strong at 30, having had several years of practice carrying eight children.
Mom was excited to be accompanied by her mother. She was quiet as she obediently listened to her mother speak about making herself suitable for marriage. Mom was engaged to a Hmong man for a year, but he decided to leave to America. Mom’s grandpa, the legendary Taj Xeem Lis Xeem, told her the marriage would not be suitable because he did not want her to be so far from her family. The engagement was called off.
It was from her mother that Mom learned how to be the type of Hmong daughter who always did what she was told because she respected her parents and wanted to show good Hmong morals and values. She was very close to her mother and was not ready to be separated from her.
That evening, after mom and her mother returned home, Mom was frustrated with all the dry dirt clinging onto her feet from the walk. She liked to stay as clean as possible, especially before going to bed. She walked outside to the front porch to wash her feet. To her surprise, two men were standing on the other side of the porch. It was Yee Moua (now called Jouyee Moua) and his uncle, Txawj Nchai. Yee was a young Hmong man who had interest in Mom and had been visiting her once or twice a month. Mom tells me about the first time they met.
“Your Great Grandpa, Taj Xeem Lee Xeem, was our clan leader and was very famous in our village. He was invited to attend a tso plig ceremony for a Hmong Moua family member who also had a very famous clan leader named [name]. The invitation was extended to invite all of the young sons and daughters as well, so me, my sisters, and aunts, all went together in a big group. That’s where I met Yee. He was a very quiet man. I didn’t know at the time because I was also the youngest in the group. But later I found out that his grandpa forced him to meet me.”
She laughs hysterically.
“I was wondering, ‘Hmm…how come a lot of people are bringing alcohol for me to drink? I was probably 14 or 15.’ That night a lot of grandpas brought Yee to my home to present him to me that he likes me and is it possible that we marry? I think it’s kind of odd because I didn’t like how they presented him to me. I never said that I didn’t like it, but I just [did not give an answer]. So he kept returning and returning and then he just kidnapped me! Because I didn’t accept the marriage proposal.”
She laughs to cover her embarassment.
Mom was scrubbing at her feet to wash the dry dirt that was glued onto her feet. She was trying to ignore the two men who were talking to her. Dad didn’t say much and was his quiet self. His Uncle Txawj Nchai said to my mom,
“If you don’t come over here, then we are not going to go home at all. We will stay here until Thai soldiers come to capture us and it will be your fault.”
They meant that she will have a bad name. She was embarrassed and didn’t want to shame her family or herself. The porch fence was also dividing them from each other so she thought it was safe. Mom decided that she would just say goodbye to them so they would go home; then, she wouldn’t get into trouble. ,
She moved a couple feet towards them. Suddenly, the two men grabbed her arm and pulled her over the fence!
In Hmong this is called zij poj niam or bride kidnap. They were both so strong and she was so tiny that trying to get away was useless. They carried her 30 minutes to their home.
She remembers her dirt-covered feet never touched the ground.
Mom remembers when she first met dad and describes him as being very quiet and shy. Most of his relatives did the talking for him. She says that he is a very respectful man who did not want to kidnap her. However, she explains that his entire immediate family surrendered to Lao soldiers, and he was considered an orphan. Dad left his family with his uncle when he was only 15 years old and did not know if he would ever see his family again. He felt very alone and wanted to start a family of his own. So mom felt obligated to marry him and complete her role as a Hmong girl.
I feel so lucky to have great parents who raised their children well and who love each other. But sometimes I worry that mom felt the need to fulfill her duty as a Hmong woman and wed to become a wife for a Hmong man’s happiness.
After mom was kidnapped, she was thinking of returning home. But she was unsure because her father’s sister-in-law is also a Moua and close to Dad’s Moua family. She told my mom not to return because her mother does not want her anymore. Additionally, she remembers the words of her uncle who told her, “Your mom said you shouldn’t go back home because even if you go back home, they don’t want you anymore because you already came here. They don’t want you anymore. They don’t want you.” Those words kept ringing in her head over and over again. And eventually made her stay where she was. Mom says, to this day, she is unsure if this was actually true. She never asked her mom for the truth before her mom passed away.
 Mom is on the far right, in Hmong dress. Dad is second from the left, in a white shirt. |
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A photo of my sister’s wedding catches my eye. She’s dressed in a beautiful long, white gown as Mom and my other sisters surround her and lavishly smile at the camera. As a little girl, I’ve always dreamt of my dream wedding and the day I would say ‘I do’.” It would take place outdoors under the glistening sunlight on a beautiful summer day. All my family would attend and my closest friends would be my bridesmaids dressed in the color purple. There would be photos of me and my soul mate hanging from a laundry line wrapped around the nearby trees decorated in bright lights. I would wear a beautiful strapless white dress with a train. White flowers would hang over my groom and I as we share our first kiss as man and wife.
For my mom, she too had dreamt of her dream wedding. It would be a beautiful Hmong wedding with many gifts and dowry from all of her family and friends. There would be a bride price that her soon-to-be husband would pay for with his riches. She would wear the most colorful Green Hmong dress, shirt, sav, and headwrap. The colors pink and green would cinch her tiny waist to unite the outfit as one. And she would wear the most beautiful and intricately designed xauv around her neck.
fBut on her wedding day, she was disappointed that she did not receive an ounce of her imagined dream wedding.