Thanhhà Lại is a Vietnamese-American author. (Click photo to learn more.)
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Inside Out & Back Again by Thanhhà Lại (HarperCollins, 2011)
Structured as a series of first-person, free verse poems, Inside Out & Back Again features the journey of ten-year-old Hà from wartime Saigon, to the island of Guam, to Alabama. Loosely based on the author’s life, the book captures emotion-laden snapshots of the Vietnamese refugee exodus for a grade-school audience. Inside Out & Back Again, which was awarded the 2011 US National Book Award for Young People's Literature and a Newbery Honor, features five poems that take place in Guam, dated May 28 to July 4. The first poem about Guam, “Tent City,” details the refugees’ distaste of American food before they get access to nước mấm in a later poem.
Structured as a series of first-person, free verse poems, Inside Out & Back Again features the journey of ten-year-old Hà from wartime Saigon, to the island of Guam, to Alabama. Loosely based on the author’s life, the book captures emotion-laden snapshots of the Vietnamese refugee exodus for a grade-school audience. Inside Out & Back Again, which was awarded the 2011 US National Book Award for Young People's Literature and a Newbery Honor, features five poems that take place in Guam, dated May 28 to July 4. The first poem about Guam, “Tent City,” details the refugees’ distaste of American food before they get access to nước mấm in a later poem.
We have landed
on an island
called Guam,
which no one can pronounce
except Brother Quang,
who becomes
translator for all.
Many others arrived
before us
and are living
in green tents
and sleeping on cots.
We eat inside a huge tent
where Brother Vũ
becomes head chef, heating up cans of
beef and potatoes
tasting like salty vomit.
We eat only
canned fruit
in thick syrup,
and everyone wants extras
but we get only a cup.
Brother Vũ somehow
brings home
a huge can,
pumping it to work out
his arm muscles.
We eat
straight from the can
as I search for
cherries and grapes.
May 28 (p. 96-97)
on an island
called Guam,
which no one can pronounce
except Brother Quang,
who becomes
translator for all.
Many others arrived
before us
and are living
in green tents
and sleeping on cots.
We eat inside a huge tent
where Brother Vũ
becomes head chef, heating up cans of
beef and potatoes
tasting like salty vomit.
We eat only
canned fruit
in thick syrup,
and everyone wants extras
but we get only a cup.
Brother Vũ somehow
brings home
a huge can,
pumping it to work out
his arm muscles.
We eat
straight from the can
as I search for
cherries and grapes.
May 28 (p. 96-97)