I learnt my first Vietnamese words and phrases thanks to the xe-om (the motorcycle taxi) drivers and their questions. After the primary courtesy question - where am I from, the series of questions that followed were impeccably personal and intrusive. Am I married? For how long am I married? And then the ultimate personal question- Why don't I have kids yet? This actually reads as "Have kids ASAP!"
The idea that marriage primarily means reproduction still persists today, at least in the Asian societies. 6 years of marriage with no intention of having a child often puzzled elders at home and those in Vietnam. If I talk about reproductive rights, screams of feminism may arise. Yet, I will bring up this issue nonetheless.
Having a child is no longer an issue of continuation of family legacy. Either or both the man and wife may think of taking the responsibility of having a child at a later stage in the relationship. Or, for that matter, they may decide not to have a child at all. Reproductive rights are therefore not only that of a woman but also that of a man.
The six years before we decided to have a child were well-spent. We prepared for the child only in that we decided to have a baby and take responsibility of another life altogether. Frankly, it was frightening at first. we never seemed to be ready for a baby. I was scared to death about having a baby although I wanted it at the same time. "I couldn't keep a cactus alive in the window sill, how the hell would I take care of a child?!", I thought.
My partner was worried if we were financially capable of supporting a child and its needs. Both of us thought, may be we will know when we will be ready. A colleague of my partner burst the bubble. He said, "You'll never be ready for a baby. You have got to make a decision. That's it."
We were surprised when the wand turned blue one fine morning. It was too soon, we thought. Even our doctor got confused by our reactions to the extent that he eventually asked, "Aren't you happy with the news?" Well, we were happy and apprehensive at the same time. The decision was irreversible now. And we were up for the joyful challenge.
More important questions followed. Was I to shift to India for the child birth? If I was to stay in Hanoi, Vietnam, how would I live - the Vietnamese way of care-but-panic-not? Or, the Bengali way - live-in-panic-and-do-nothing? Questions to the doctor included- if I were to go up and down the stairs, while I saw Vietnamese pregnant women riding their motorbikes in their third trimester.
What kept me sane through those days were my lovely girlfriends in Hanoi.
The idea that marriage primarily means reproduction still persists today, at least in the Asian societies. 6 years of marriage with no intention of having a child often puzzled elders at home and those in Vietnam. If I talk about reproductive rights, screams of feminism may arise. Yet, I will bring up this issue nonetheless.
Having a child is no longer an issue of continuation of family legacy. Either or both the man and wife may think of taking the responsibility of having a child at a later stage in the relationship. Or, for that matter, they may decide not to have a child at all. Reproductive rights are therefore not only that of a woman but also that of a man.
The six years before we decided to have a child were well-spent. We prepared for the child only in that we decided to have a baby and take responsibility of another life altogether. Frankly, it was frightening at first. we never seemed to be ready for a baby. I was scared to death about having a baby although I wanted it at the same time. "I couldn't keep a cactus alive in the window sill, how the hell would I take care of a child?!", I thought.
My partner was worried if we were financially capable of supporting a child and its needs. Both of us thought, may be we will know when we will be ready. A colleague of my partner burst the bubble. He said, "You'll never be ready for a baby. You have got to make a decision. That's it."
We were surprised when the wand turned blue one fine morning. It was too soon, we thought. Even our doctor got confused by our reactions to the extent that he eventually asked, "Aren't you happy with the news?" Well, we were happy and apprehensive at the same time. The decision was irreversible now. And we were up for the joyful challenge.
More important questions followed. Was I to shift to India for the child birth? If I was to stay in Hanoi, Vietnam, how would I live - the Vietnamese way of care-but-panic-not? Or, the Bengali way - live-in-panic-and-do-nothing? Questions to the doctor included- if I were to go up and down the stairs, while I saw Vietnamese pregnant women riding their motorbikes in their third trimester.
What kept me sane through those days were my lovely girlfriends in Hanoi.
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