There is something incredibly comforting about laying on the couch and hearing a Vietnamese skit at full blast. It is the place that I never really want to be, but I have no problem doing this night after night when I’m around my family.

I don’t understand 90% of what is being said, but it makes me understand why people of the same culture cling together. The sounds, the lilting uplift of the words and my mom’s cackle, it’s a good meld — it’s home.

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