Self-conscious.Embarrassed.Mental breakdown

Part 1: Family Background

I was born and raised in a Vietnamese family with five children, cramped in a tiny house made of dry coconut leaves. The house, always on the verge of collapse, was supported by a pole on the side to prevent it from tilting every time a strong wind blew. Situated under the shade of a red guava tree, it was next to a garden full of various fruit trees. Our humble abode had leaky roofs every rainy season, forcing us to place buckets everywhere to catch the dripping water. The leaf house, prone to decay, had gaps that let in chilling winds.

Inside, there was little more than a wooden table, several old wooden chairs, and a bed made by my father. Simple as it was, the bed held countless family memories. Additionally, a swinging hammock, indispensable in every rural home, hung loosely. Two dogs, Mila and Milu, were also integral to our home. Mila was plump with grayish-white fur, while Milu was thin with black fur, looking like an old maid. The dogs often played and noisily bit each other.

Below was a small, more dilapidated kitchen with three makeshift stoves for cooking with wood, always filled with the smell of smoke and charcoal. Dog food scattered all over made the kitchen perpetually dirty and shabby. The red guava tree near the house bore abundant fruits, providing snacks throughout the day. Behind the house was a small garden with various fruit trees like custard apple, pineapple, banana, cashew, dragon fruit, and a huge star apple tree. There were also two bamboo bushes and some cajeput trees.

One of the most dreadful places was the self-dug latrine. Using it was a terrifying experience each time. The precarious toilet was just a wooden plank set over two stones at each end. Using it required squatting down, holding onto a makeshift frame of the house while swatting mosquitoes around your bottom, and fearing falling into the pit below. Especially in the rainy season, the foul smell and large mosquitoes made it a truly horrific experience.

Being poor, we dared not eat anything expensive. Instead, we grew vegetables around the house for our consumption. The vegetables were safe from pesticides as human manure was used as fertilizer. This created a beneficial cycle: humans provided the manure, which fertilized the plants that in turn fed the humans. It sounds crude, but it's the harsh reality.

Fruits were also from our own garden; we never dared to even look at fruits in the market. Whatever was in season, we shared, small portions but still satisfying. Some days it was pineapple, other days star fruit, but mostly bananas, available all year round. Next were the guavas; we had two trees, one next to the house and one by the bathhouse. Both were very fruitful, especially during the rainy season when we couldn't even finish all the fruits and had to give some away or sell them. Back then, 500 Vietnamese dong was a lot, buying ten large star fruits from my house. Our star fruit was sweet and large, irresistibly delicious. The only downside was that the tree had many yellow caterpillars; just shaking the tree to pick the fruit would make the caterpillars fall off. If you weren't careful, they could crawl all over you, giving you goosebumps.

(to be continued)