Let me begin this story with a personal revelation: I am illegal.
This story begins in Laos in 1975. It’s a story about crying, remorse and tears.
The Chinese electrician Sengdao fell in love with his maid Thi Tam, a Vietnamese tailoress. The unlike couple grew up in Laos. Thi Tam was a beautiful girl, she had trusting round eyes and a haughty nose in the middle of an innocent bright face. She was 19 years old and in love with a married man. Sengdao was the father of four children at that time. Thi Tam needed money. Thi Tam’s father Mr. Pham was sick and medicine was expensive.
The seventies in Laos was an insecure time. A lot of neighbors disappeared. Some flew, some were imprisoned. The communists and Vietcongs took over, Thi Tam decided to leave everything behind her and joined the boat people to cross the river Mekhong. No time for planning. She ordered a taxi and put her younger sisters and brothers on the backseat. The little brother Van Long was the youngest: ten years old. Van Long missed papa and yelled his name all the time. They had to leave their father in Laos. He was too old and too sick. It was the hardest time in Thi Tam’s life. Crying. Remorse. Tears.
She promised little Long to pick papa up later, when they were safe. They would be reunited soon again. Don’t cry, little Long. It turned out, that they wouldn’t see their father again.
Some of the refugees got caught. Her sister Thi Hue was prisoned. Thi Tam and little Long survived. They landed on the free coast of Thailand, where they lived in the Nongkhai refugee camp for two summers and two winters. Waiting for papers, waiting for visas, waiting for a perspective.
One day her eldest sister Thi Lan came with good news from Europe. Thi Lan said she found a family called Le in Aschaffenburg in Germany. Where the hell is Germany? Miss Le in Germany can bring us to Germany. But we have to pretend to be her brothers and sisters. This was the day, when Thi Tam added the family name Le to her papers. Pham became Le. Change of identity.
Sengdao appeared one day in Nongkhai, he had also left Laos and begged Thi Tam for a second chance. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. In the refugee camp Thi Tam got pregnant. It was a boy. Let’s call him Jumbo like the powerful airplanes, that can bring us to Europe, Sengdao suggested optimistically. Jumbo? What a silly name, Thi Tam answered. When the German government asked for the names of the family members, Thi Tam wrote: Le is the family name. The boy’s first name is Bo. Van Bo.
Thi Tam is my mother. Sengdao is my father.
Little Long is my uncle. I saw him smiling for the last time at my wedding party two years ago. I am married to a wonderful woman, who brought the „Mentzel“ to my family name. This is why I go by the name of „Le-Mentzel“ now. Van Long was 50 years old, when he passed away. My mother passed away a long time ago.
This is my story. This is how I came to Germany. Because of a lie. My parents would never have gotten a visa, or a green card, or anything. We were not the skilled workers the German economy needed at that time. For a long time my family lived from social welfare, what we call Hartz IV today. My father is a proud man. He used to be the chairman of the Chinese network society in Berlin. He opened Asia shops and restaurants. He was a business man. Too proud to take money from the government. After his bypass surgery, his dignity also passed by. Today he lives in a small apartment in Berlin-Steglitz. The former chairman today needs Hartz IV. Lonesome and furious. He is angry about the GEMA, who won a process against him, angry about the taxman, who made him close all restaurants, angry about the police, who took away his driver’s license. Angry about the robbers who stole the savings box, in which he collected almost 1.000 Euros in 2 Euro coins for his grandsons. This man is a broken man. Left with anger. I went to university and became an architect. I began to understand, that my life was only enabled because of the support of so many people in my life, the teachers, the nannies, the social workers, my uncle Long, my friends. This is why I feel the need to give something in return. I invented the school talks, a platform for pupils to find their profession. I invented the Hartz IV Möbel construction plans, so everyone (even the poor) can have a nice living. I have founded the Crowd Building Academy, in which I try to help people getting their dreams funded. I could not do all this, if I still was in Laos. I am grateful to be here in free Germany. But my way from Laos to Germany was not free. There are millions of young Van Bos out there, who would like to contribute their part to a better society. But they can’t, because they are not allowed to move from here to there. Imagine, what would happen, if we would free all ways. I strongly believe that refugees are the strongest and bravest people in a society. They have left everything they have. These people don’t fear the future, the uncertainty. This is an invaluable capital. They have had the courage to move on and sacrifice everything they are and have. These people can contribute a lot to every country. They can bring new chances. Why? Because they have nothing to lose. They are not driven by profit, degrees or plans. Refugees are driven by life. Do you know a stronger urge than life? We simply have to let them be free, to free their mind, their labor, their hearts. What a world. What a colorful world. Let’s picture this world where everyone can go from A to B like that. Without money, without borders, without being a boat people. Without Crying. Remorse. Tears.
Thanks to Marie Huber for proofreading this text.