Love Like Hate Read Online Free

Salman Rushdie or V. S. Naipaul would not have been hired. The less expensive schools used local teachers. There was the Lego Institute, which advertised: “Build your English skill block by block.” There was the Gertrude Stein Academy: “To speak, on an endless shelf, there’s English.” Kim Lan enrolled Hoa at the most prestigious one: the New York School of English. Everyone on its staff was advertised as being a native of one of the boroughs. There was a mural of Manhattan in the school lobby and, standing on a cardboard box next to the registration desk, a foam Statue of Liberty. The school’s bold slogan: “ ANSWER ALL YOUR QUESTIONS IN ENGLISH WITHIN A YEAR .”
    Invigorated by her violent hope of acquiring a new language, Hoa threw herself into her studies. Kim Lan marveled at the sight of Hoa bent over her exercise book. She encouraged Hoa to practice her lessons out loud. Single words, phrases, anything. It was pure music to her ear when Hoa said things like, “I do. You do. He does.” Or: “Skiing and skating are my favorite sports.” Or: “I’m pregnantand I need to have an abortion.” She asked Hoa, “How do you say ‘mother’ in English?”
    “Mama!”
    “From now on, I want you to call me mama!”
    She bought Hoa a nice dictionary with a colorful illustration next to each word.
My First Dictionary
, it was called, “recommended ages: four to eight.” Encouraging Hoa to use this dictionary, Kim Lan would say, “Remember Malcolm X!” Kim Lan had discovered Malcolm X in a magazine called
Today’s Knowledge
. Although it had few pages and was no bigger than her palm,
Today’s Knowledge
was chock-full of information. In the October 1999 issue, it asked: “Did you know that Malcolm X was a black leader against American capitalism? A pimp who rose to prominence while in prison, Malcolm X taught himself English by memorizing every word of a dictionary.” Since
My First Dictionary
only had about two hundred words, Kim Lan figured Hoa could memorize the entire dictionary in about a year or so, and be fluent in English just like Malcolm X. In the same issue of
Today’s Knowledge
, Kim Lan learned that Ho Chi Minh had taught himself French by scrawling ten new words on his arms each day. That’s 3,650 words a year, she thought incredulously, on such spindly arms? Overlaid with a million words, blue-black with knowledge, Uncle Ho’s arms lay dimly lit in a glass coffin. Kim Lan thought of Japanese
yakuzas
tattooed from head to toes.
Horimono
, is it?
    Kim Lan also enrolled Hoa in an aerobic dance class so she could listen to American music as she learned how to dance like an American. To round out her daughter’s education, Kim Lan took Hoa to Kentucky Fried Chicken. The first American fast-food joint in Saigon was a KFC that opened in 1997 near the airport. It had few customers. For the price of a two-piece meal you could feast on five courses at another restaurant. About the only people who ate there were tourists, expats, Viet Kieus and the nouveau riche. Kim Lan took Hoa to this KFC every weekend. It was a glamorous placewhere the floor was clean and the uniformed employees courteous. Staring at the brightly lit menu overhead, Kim Lan asked Hoa, “What does it say?”
    Mustering up all her mental energy, Hoa slowly translated out loud, “Prepared the Colonel’s way using the freshest select ingredients for a tangy, sweet, one-of-a-kind, satisfying taste.”
    “And what does that say?”
    “The Colonel’s famous freshly baked biscuits served up hot and flaky just like they’ve been for generations.”
    Finding the chicken greasy and the coleslaw inedible, they still pronounced everything delicious. Kim Lan ate the jive mashed potatoes with the little plastic fork/spoon while eyeing the Viet Kieus chowing down at adjacent tables. She loved the way their conversations were interlarded with odd bits of English, words such as “good,” “you,” and “boring.” Annoyed by her