Khai Nguyen, a doctor at Skellefteå hospital, has a particularly spectacular backstory about how he ended up in Norrland. Paul Connolly asked him about escaping communist Vietnam by boat, being an extra in Apocalypse Now! and working for the Operation Smile charity. Portrait by Donna Richmond.
The youngest picture of Khai in the refugee camp in Manila while waiting to depart for Canada in 1972. All personal photographs courtesy of Khai Nguyen.PC: Your family escaped communist Vietnam by boat, in the 1970s, in the wake of the Vietnam War. Do you remember much about it?
KN: I do. I’m blessed with a very good memory even from such an early age as seven, which is the age I was then. To leave Vietnam at that stage was an incredibly dangerous thing to even try. We took many risks and made many sacrifices. An unsuccessful attempt would have cost us our lives or life imprisonment. In the period before we attempted our escape I’d go see the local communist guard, who lived quite close to us, and give him fish to eat – just to keep him sweet.
A crazy time do it
For many months, we surreptitiously gathered supplies for the long voyage. We bought food and fuel and hid them in the house, or buried them on the beaches, in order to avoid suspicion. On a chilly night in September 1979, we implemented our plans. Ten people were aboard my father’s fishing boat – me, my parents, including my mom who was six months pregnant, two younger brothers, aged four and five, two aunts, my uncle and two cousins. It was monsoon season, which makes it seem like a crazy time to do it, but nobody would have expected us to try to escape then, which is of course why we decided to go then. We had no navigational instruments or maps to guide us. We just wanted to head for international shipping lanes, hoping to be picked up. We didn’t know how long it would take but we seemed to be on the water for weeks maybe. At sea, we encountered several cargo vessels. They gave us critical supplies of fuel, food and drinking water, but were unwilling to rescue us. We also endured storms. On several occasions our boat was tossed by 30-foot waves – it was monsoon season after all. After a while, everyone thought we were going to die.
Our hope had gone
We thought we had little hope of reaching land. Our supplies were depleted. Our morale was low and hope had gone. Faced with starvation and dehydration, we were at the mercy of the ocean. Then, one afternoon, we saw a small island. With our remaining fuel, we headed towards it. Suffering from exhaustion, we were fortunate to find many sea birds’ eggs that we could eat. We found two empty oil drums and three logs that had drifted ashore. We burned one log to cook food and to provide warmth during the cold night. The remaining two logs were made into a flagpole, and we used our T-shirts as flags to try to attract attention. My father caught fish for dinner, and at night sea turtles would come ashore to lay their eggs. We ate some of them but the lack of water was a real problem. On the third day, a small plane passed over the island. Someone in the plane must have seen our flags but it couldn’t land. A couple of days later it flew over again and this time it dropped bags containing food, water and medicine. In one of the bags was a note in English and Vietnamese, saying that we would be rescued soon. There must now have been lots of refugee boats. A few days later a Philippines naval vessel found us. It took my family aboard and transferred us to the Palawan refugee camp in the Philippines. We were all so happy to have been rescued.
PC: What were conditions like at the camp?
KN: Sanitation and health conditions were bad. Food was distributed daily to each family, and every afternoon the Red Cross would supply hot powdered milk, drinks and cookies to the children. But one element of excitement was that the movie Apocalypse Now was filming on the same island. They used us as extras several times but I’m pretty sure any scenes we were in were cut in the final edit, sadly.We stayed there 14 months before we were allowed to emigrate to Canada. We flew from Manila to Hong Kong, then to Vancouver and to Montreal, where we stayed at an army base for one week. Each person was given a garbage bag and was told to select all the warm clothing that we required from the storage room. A gift of $100 was given to each family, and we were then distributed across Canada. My family was sent to Kingston, a small city near Toronto to build our new lives.
PC: How did you cope in Canada? Was it a culture shock?
KN: We struggled with the adjustment to life in Canada, especially the language, the cultural differences and trying to cope with the cold weather. You’re kind of forced to learn the language faster and integrate and adapt much easier when you go to a small town. But we kept going, we kept trying and eventually we settled. I got a scholarship and ended up at Queen’s University to study to be a doctor. But then in 1994 President Clinton lifted the trade embargo on Vietnam and I decided to visit my country of birth.
PC: What did you do in Vietnam?
KN: I went to discover my roots. To visit my childhood home. But then I went to a Thanksgiving dinner at the Canadian Embassy in Saigon, where I met this person who told me this charity, Operation Smile, was coming to town, and they needed someone who can help translate for them. Operation Smile is a charity that provides safe, free cleft lip and cleft palate repair surgery for children with facial deformities – their work was so eye-opening. During that week we saw more than 500 kids with cleft lips and palates. It was very moving and heartbreaking, as was the poverty. I went back to Canada to figure out how to become more involved in the organization, and I ended up leading several missions to Vietnam. And I ended up working more and more for Smile in areas such as logistics and trying to help out where I could, between the volunteers, hospital, and the American team behind the charity.
PC: How did you end up in Skellefteå and do you have any tips for newcomers?
KN: It was in Vietnam that I met my Swedish wife, a medical student who was cycling through the country. Long story short, we moved to Skellefteå where I completed my medical degree and we started a family. Living here is not too dissimilar to Canada, where I was brought up. It can be cold and snowy. But the summers can be great, too. I think the key to living here is to embrace everything – the language, the beauty, the fantastic leisure activities, everything. The skiing here is great. You can do cross-country or alpine skiing (downhill), more or less in the center of town. And there’s Bygdsiljum, which has several runs and is a great little resort with a cafe at the top of the hill. The prices to ski are really good, too – much cheaper than southern European countries, such as Italy. Also, second-hand equipment is really good value here. I think it can be in our nature to fight change but you have to give in to it. Once you do, life is great here. There are so many great outdoors things to do here, especially in the winter – ski, walk, toboggan! You just have to get out and enjoy it!
