A Banana by Any Other Name...

I have to share this story before it's forgotten.

When Jake first came to us, on our 3rd day in Vietnam, we found out quickly that he loves bananas. Really, really loves bananas. We had them on our breakfast buffet at the Kim Do, and he couldn't get enough of them. We felt it would show love to him if we learned the Vietnamese word for "banana," so we asked our guide to teach us that word. What we heard was something like "doo-ey." Doo-ey. Simple enough! Easy to remember! Found ourselves using it a lot!

"Jacob, you want another dooey? You like dooeys?"

Jake would just smile and nod. This was easy. We were a bit prideful of our mastery of the difficult language. Okay, one word of that language.

We came home, and I loved taking Jake to the store & buying "dooeys" for him. "Jacob! Look! There's the dooeys! You want some??" Wiggled the bananas in front of his eyes, big smile on my face, asking my little guy if he'd like the dooeys!

Jake would just smile and nod. He ate his weight in them.

We'd bought some children's books in Hanoi that had pictures with Vietnamese and English words printed underneath. One book had bananas. Weird thing was, the word under the bananas was "choy." (And I have no idea if I'm spelling that right. That book is not to be found at the moment.) Anyway, we thought that was funny. Another translation error, obviously! We'd been told by our reliable guide/translator/ assistant that the word was "dooey," and we confidently kept talking to Jake about dooeys at every opportunity. (We knew so little Vietnamese; we were milking that word for all we could.)

After a while, as Jake learned more and more English, "dooeys" became "bananas." And "may-byes" became "airplanes." "Ca" became "fish." And I fought sadness as I realized my treasured son from Vietnam was losing his native tongue. But this is not a sad story (for today!); this is a time to laugh, so I will move on.

In October, we were invited to a party at the home of a family who had recently brought home their son from VN. The party included other families whose children had come home from there. One of the families had met two students from VN who were attending a nearby college. These two young people were invited to join us, and it was great to visit with them and express our love and appreciation for their homeland.

As my husband & I talked with them, I thought it would be fun to try out the little bits of Vietnamese we knew with them, just to see their reaction to our pronunciations. I wanted to be sure that I remembered how to say the words we'd learned.

We tried a few phrases. Got the thumbs up, for the most part.

Then I spotted a banana on a fruit tray. Said something like, "And we know that this is a 'dooey'! Right?"

Puzzled looks.

"Right? A dooey?"

The young female student shook her head "No." Said, in a voice so soft that I could barely understand her, "It is a choy."

I shook my head. "Uh, dooey?"

A bit louder, more clearly, "No. CHOY."

Images of the "wrong" word in the child's book flooded my mind. "Choy? Really! Um, does 'dooey' mean anything?"

The male student, with a bit of hesitation, replied: "It means 'to drown.'"

To what?? To drown? I'd been asking my son for the first 5 months if he'd like to drown?

I still have no idea what Jake thought about those first few banana conversations. What in the world did he think of us? I hope he remembers when he's able to tell me. So we can laugh.

It is shocking to see him as well-adjusted as he is!! (Horrors...)

I did find out that I can still say, correctly (PTL!): "Mah tung Bao-Jacob." That means, "Momma loves Bao-Jacob." I still say it that way some, and he repeats it back. And he smiles. And I know he gets it. And I am thankful.