What I Learned from Vietnamese Soap Operas

You haven't lived until you've watched Vietnamese soap operas on tape--and you don't speak Vietnamese.

I have taught ESL at different points in my life as a volunteer. As I get ready to open an ESL school one night a week, I think back on all the things my students over the years have taught me. I've taught Vietnamese immigrants, Cambodian refugees, a smattering of Brazilians, one man from Korea, and now hopefully a class of Mexican and El Salvadorean immigrants. My students have cooked for me. They have made me laugh and made me cry. A lot of both. I know a smattering of words in all the languages, but not much. Somehow we communicate in a universal language of love and patience. But Vietnemese soap operas are in a class by themselves.

I used to sit with my students in their house--a family of ten--and have tea and we would watch. The beautiful young bride forced into an arranged marriage to an evil and ruthless businessman many years her senior. And then . . . the evil woman. I remember the matriarch of the family tell me, "She very bad. VERY bad." And I had to laugh because the evil lady didn't have mere fingernails. She had long, red, laquered TALONS. And she wore a skin tight dress, and had a heavily made-up face. And she glared at everyone while causing trouble. And of course, she pulled the hair of the beautiful young bride and made her cry.

What made me laugh is the family I taught was very intent on explaining who was good and who was bad, as if I couldn't figure it out on my own. And how, even not understanding a single word of the soap opera, I knew. Heck, they are just like our soap operas, from what I can tell. We might not costume up the evil ladies, but we see their arched brows and conniving expressions. So I have spent many an hour watching Vietnamese soap operas and realizing . . . we're all the same. And what does it teach about writing?

Our themes are universal. Good is good and evil is evil.

Another thing I learned? You have to have someone to root for. I can honestly say, bemused though I was, I wanted that sweet bride to take down the evil lady. I wanted the bad businessman to fall from grace, or better yet, drop dead, freeing the sweet bride to marry her love back in her village. I rooted for characters--and all 11 of us couldn't wait for the next episode (which were bought on the bootleg black market of videotapes found in a Vietnamese section of D.C., where, believe it or not, you could also buy T.B. medicine to ship home to Vietnam). Without someone to root for, do we really care?

Another thing? It's a cycle of conflict . . . glimmer of hope . . . conflict . . . glimmer of hope. You watched, virtually exhausted by the storyline--but then, there is that glimmer of hope. The village love getting a message in a simple flower left on her bed to the bride.

And those bad guys . . . watch out.

So . . . the question for the day . . . is how are you depicting the bad guys in your book? Long laquered nails and evil smiles?

My bad "guy" is a virus. But it's a virulent one that shows no mercy.