News
ENLARGE
FRISCO — Thirty-three-year-old Mimi Nguyen shares her two-bedroom Frisco home with her husband, brother, two sons, mother and stepfather — a living arrangement that affords her a lot more peace and quiet than she ever had as a child.
Nguyen was born the third of five children in an urban area just outside of Saigon, Vietnam, only two years after the conclusion of the Vietnam War. The landscape and its people, including Nguyen's large extended family, still bore the wounds of violent conflict. Nguyen never knew her father. Also absent were an aunt and uncle who had left behind several cousins for her mother to care for, in addition to Nguyen and her siblings. They shared their single-room home with more than a dozen other relatives, pulling out blankets every night to sleep on the floor.
“We were so poor,” Nguyen said. “I was just a kid, and I didn't know any different, so it didn't really bother me. But it was very difficult for my mom. She worked very hard, but sometimes, we didn't even have food to eat.”
Nguyen's mother picked up jobs wherever she could, often working as a potter. All the while, she was diligently plotting her exit from poverty in search of an easier life. Nguyen's older sister was half American, the child of a U.S. soldier who left the country at the end of the war. Although the relationship was doomed, it did provide a way out of Vietnam. After more than a decade of patience and paperwork, the family finally left the country for Jacksonville, Florida, when Nguyen was 14.
“Everything was so different. There was a bathroom in the house, and we had our own rooms. In my country, we had to walk very far just to go to the restroom. But the biggest change was the people. In Vietnam, all the neighbors know each other and talk about each other's business. Here, people are much more private, and they don't get to know each other as much,” she said.
Despite the promise of new opportunities, Nguyen found the unfamiliar environment overwhelming at times.
“I spoke only a tiny bit of English, and communication was very difficult. I didn't understand what people were talking about. Sometimes I felt so lost, it made me cry.”
Nguyen recalls attending the American-style wedding of a Vietnamese aunt to an American man. Faced with a set of completely foreign customs, and unable to ask questions in English, she and her siblings sat quietly, taking cues from the other guests on how to act.
After six months in Florida, Nguyen's family traversed the continent to be near relatives in Orange County, California, and to join an established Vietnamese immigrant community. Once again, she could express herself in her native language and be understood. She developed friendships, attended school and gradually acclimated to American culture.
“It took me three to five years before I really felt comfortable speaking English. At first, I was really nervous to speak, because I was afraid people would laugh at me,” she said.
Shortly after finishing high school, Nguyen married and moved to Atlanta, Georgia, where she and her husband had their first child. Six years later, the couple joined Nguyen's mother in Colorado Springs so she could help keep an eye on the little one. Nguyen passed her citizenship exam and pledged her allegiance to the U.S. when she was 28. Two years ago, the family uprooted yet again to come to Frisco.
“It was easy for me to move, because I've been moved around a lot in my life.”
Nguyen's brother purchased a nail salon on Main Street and hired his sister to be the manager. Today, a perennially cheerful Nguyen can be found at Frisco Nails nine hours a day, six days a week, scheduling clients and giving some of the best manicures and pedicures in town.
At home, her mother looks after Nguyen's two sons and whips up Vietnamese fare, including her favorite: pho, a fragrant noodle soup served with lime, basil, bean sprouts, and other condiments.
“My mom is a really good cook. She makes great pho.”
Nguyen says she loves Frisco's small-town atmosphere and navigability, although its long winters are taking some getting used to. She doesn't ski or snowboard, fearing that a fall on the slopes could result in an injured hand, rendering her unable to work.
Winter weather aside, Frisco feels like home to Nguyen and her husband.
“The cost of living here is high, but all the rest is so nice. If we can buy our own home someday, that would be great. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.”
Julie Sutor can be reached at (970) 668-4630 or at jsutor@summitdaily.com.
Nguyen was born the third of five children in an urban area just outside of Saigon, Vietnam, only two years after the conclusion of the Vietnam War. The landscape and its people, including Nguyen's large extended family, still bore the wounds of violent conflict. Nguyen never knew her father. Also absent were an aunt and uncle who had left behind several cousins for her mother to care for, in addition to Nguyen and her siblings. They shared their single-room home with more than a dozen other relatives, pulling out blankets every night to sleep on the floor.
“We were so poor,” Nguyen said. “I was just a kid, and I didn't know any different, so it didn't really bother me. But it was very difficult for my mom. She worked very hard, but sometimes, we didn't even have food to eat.”
Nguyen's mother picked up jobs wherever she could, often working as a potter. All the while, she was diligently plotting her exit from poverty in search of an easier life. Nguyen's older sister was half American, the child of a U.S. soldier who left the country at the end of the war. Although the relationship was doomed, it did provide a way out of Vietnam. After more than a decade of patience and paperwork, the family finally left the country for Jacksonville, Florida, when Nguyen was 14.
“Everything was so different. There was a bathroom in the house, and we had our own rooms. In my country, we had to walk very far just to go to the restroom. But the biggest change was the people. In Vietnam, all the neighbors know each other and talk about each other's business. Here, people are much more private, and they don't get to know each other as much,” she said.
Despite the promise of new opportunities, Nguyen found the unfamiliar environment overwhelming at times.
“I spoke only a tiny bit of English, and communication was very difficult. I didn't understand what people were talking about. Sometimes I felt so lost, it made me cry.”
Nguyen recalls attending the American-style wedding of a Vietnamese aunt to an American man. Faced with a set of completely foreign customs, and unable to ask questions in English, she and her siblings sat quietly, taking cues from the other guests on how to act.
After six months in Florida, Nguyen's family traversed the continent to be near relatives in Orange County, California, and to join an established Vietnamese immigrant community. Once again, she could express herself in her native language and be understood. She developed friendships, attended school and gradually acclimated to American culture.
“It took me three to five years before I really felt comfortable speaking English. At first, I was really nervous to speak, because I was afraid people would laugh at me,” she said.
Shortly after finishing high school, Nguyen married and moved to Atlanta, Georgia, where she and her husband had their first child. Six years later, the couple joined Nguyen's mother in Colorado Springs so she could help keep an eye on the little one. Nguyen passed her citizenship exam and pledged her allegiance to the U.S. when she was 28. Two years ago, the family uprooted yet again to come to Frisco.
“It was easy for me to move, because I've been moved around a lot in my life.”
Nguyen's brother purchased a nail salon on Main Street and hired his sister to be the manager. Today, a perennially cheerful Nguyen can be found at Frisco Nails nine hours a day, six days a week, scheduling clients and giving some of the best manicures and pedicures in town.
At home, her mother looks after Nguyen's two sons and whips up Vietnamese fare, including her favorite: pho, a fragrant noodle soup served with lime, basil, bean sprouts, and other condiments.
“My mom is a really good cook. She makes great pho.”
Nguyen says she loves Frisco's small-town atmosphere and navigability, although its long winters are taking some getting used to. She doesn't ski or snowboard, fearing that a fall on the slopes could result in an injured hand, rendering her unable to work.
Winter weather aside, Frisco feels like home to Nguyen and her husband.
“The cost of living here is high, but all the rest is so nice. If we can buy our own home someday, that would be great. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.”
Julie Sutor can be reached at (970) 668-4630 or at jsutor@summitdaily.com.
