By Samantha Diaz
Have you ever wondered what your life could have been? A Banh Mi For Two introduces two characters of a similar past, born a world apart. Lan has lived in Viêt Nam her whole life, and Vivi only knows of her Vietnamese descent through her community in California. Despite their vastly different experiences, love blossoms between the struggling writer and the fearless romantic in Trinity Nguyen’s tenderhearted debut novel, a romance set in the heart of Sài Gòn.
Protagonist Lan begins the story by writing about the beauty of Sài Gòn for her blog, A Banh Mi For Two, and immediately erasing every flowery strung line she has written before ultimately slamming her laptop shut. When the writing goes nowhere, Lan says goodbye to her cousin Trêt and walks through the city, where a tourist couple asks her for directions. When she responds in perfect English, the man is shocked, to which Lan bitterly answers their questions. Lan loves Sài Gòn, but it’s the unknowledgeable foreigners that leave a sour taste whenever she wanders the city.
Love interest Vivi’s first thought in the story is: how did she manage to lie to her immigrant parents about traveling halfway across the world? Vivi signed up for a study abroad program for her first semester of college and told her parents she was going to Singapore, but instead she secretly applied to attend the program in Viêt Nam, the country her parents came from and that her mother refuses to talk about. This leaves Vivi with no other choice than to leave her home in Little Saigon and visit Viêt Nam in search of her family’s history, and hopefully, find the women in the photo her mom keeps hidden, which reveals that Vivi has an aunt and grandmother still in Viêt Nam. And what better to learn about her family than from the other two living relatives.
Many of Lan’s blog followers are tourists or people living vicariously through her posts, but Vivi has been a loyal fan since the start. Not knowing who was behind the blog, Vivi fell in love with the descriptions of Viêt Nam so much that they gave her the encouragement to travel across the world to learn more about her culture. By chance, Lan and Vivi bump into each other, which starts off their whirlwind romance.
In A Banh Mi for Two, Lan and Vivi’s characters unfold as they learn from each other and their perspectives on life. What I appreciate from Nguyen’s writing is her strong characterization of the couple. Lan and Vivi personify what it means to be raised in the homeland and from the homeland.
Lan loves her home, but grapples with the annoyance of travelers who expect something magical. To Lan, Viêt Nam is a country with a complicated history overshadowed by the foggy perception the internet paints Viêt Nam to be.
Nguyen writes,“My city isn’t a must-see spot, it’s what I’m used to. My Home. All the other travel blogs portray Sài Gòn as this glamorous city where young people can find themselves and live their best lives. I can’t do that. My life isn’t glamorous.”
Meanwhile, Vivi speaks for kids who grew up in the United States yet were surrounded by their homeland’s culture. Vivi knows the language, the traditions, and the food, but not the exact experience of being a person who grew up in Viêt Nam. That guilt of living outside the realm of relation is uncomfortable. The first generation wouldn’t understand the feeling, nor would someone who still lives in the country. It’s a lonely experience.
“Growing up in the States, even though I was surrounded by other Vietnamese people in Little Saigon, I always felt out of place.”
This internal struggle is the same feeling I experience whenever I am around people from my family’s country. To me, it’s like I’m being a fraud. Although I have the skin, hair, and eyes of a Mexican person, my experience cannot compare to people in Mexico. Just like Vivi, I have felt out of place when I’m with my own community. There are stories we might not know or words we have forgotten, subtle moments like these that can keep first, second, third – generation kids out of the circle.
For A Banh Mi for Two to elicit these thoughts and make them seem normal, as if we are not alone, is a much needed story for anyone in any diaspora. It provokes a reminder that no matter the place you were born in, we all can appreciate and learn from each other.
Lan guides Vivi throughout Viêt Nam, introducing the country’s history and culture so subtly that the explanation transferred smoothly to me. Although she knows the culture and understands the language, Vivi knows she is not fluent and, with Lan by her side, that it is okay that she is learning.
When I went in search of learning more of my culture and studying the language, I was met with some unkindness. Not everyone wants to teach someone about their history. It was reassuring to read how Lan invited Vivi to explore Sài Gòn and not once diminish her interest. This gave me hope that there are people who do care to teach others with consideration.
To be called a YA contemporary romance puts A Banh Mi for Two into a box. In actuality, this novel truly speaks to all ages. The generational experiences and examinations of cultural identity that Lan and Vivi undergo are highly applicable to the first and second generation experience. These are the same feelings and concerns that have shadowed people throughout time, regardless of whether they are teenagers now or were teenagers twenty, thirty, forty years ago. For example, Nguyen writes of such shared generational feelings:
“His words hurt, and it occurs to me then that, like me, Dad has been grappling with these feelings all his life. Like me, he’s been feeling that push and pull between the United States and Viêt Nam, not knowing where he fits in.”
A Banh Mi for Two is a sweet romance that dabbles in identity and culture. It’s a story that speaks to a generation who are curious about their roots, and those who wish to explore new experiences. For all the readers who grew up in a multilingual, multicultural, and multigenerational household—this story is for you.
Samantha Desirae Diaz is a writer who explores true crime, paranormal, and romance stories. Born and raised in Chino, CA, she earned her B.A. in screenwriting from California State University, Northridge, and her M.F.A. in creative writing from Chapman University. She is a marketing and media coordinator at Red Hen Press.