I love her - a special story about Old J.

She was never a part of the first 16.5 year of my life.

When I first came to USA at 1996, my grandpa introduced me to her. Curiosity hit me when I saw how proud and happy Grandpa was when he talked about her. I can never forget the thoughts and emotions in me when I finally met her the first time.
I ... felt strange.

She was so familiar, yet so foreign to me. I felt that I met her before. She shared a lot of my culture. But unspoken and strangely... she was not from my world.

Now when I reflect, I think she was more of a foreigner to me. Well, I to her, too.

I didn't even get to learn her name in the first few acquaintances.

Little did I know... she became a part of my life. We met from every half year, several months, to once a week, or even every couple days... Warmth, comfort, and satisfaction show up every time when we met. Her value in me is more than the a 30 minutes of "hi-and-bye." I think of her often~ sometimes when I wake up, sometimes when I drive, and sometimes even when I feel vulnerable. And her name appears often in my conversations.

I just met her again today. And no surprise, warmth, comfort, and satisfaction showed up again.

Her name is Pho.

What was familiar is that it's just noodle and soup in a plain bowl... eat with chopstick and plastic spoon; yet what seemed so foreign to me were the vegetable - the bean-sprout, the basil, and a slice of quarter size of a lemon - sit outside of the bowl, the brownish color seafood sauce, and the little round plates in the silverware organizer.

Now I can tell you that she is not from my culture. She is a Vietnamese. However, she is the friend of many Chinese, Asians, and even non-Asians.

Pho, a friend my grandpa introduced to me during the 2nd week of my arrival of this country United States of America, April, 1996.

My grandpa loves it because it is of good price, great taste, and gigantic portion. =)

I am a pho lover. Are you?