People smugglers: Europe criminal network vs Vietnamese Communist’s related information

The deaths of 39 people in a lorry trailer lead Thursday’s frontpages. Credit: Twitter/i/The Times

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The text messages victim Pham Thi Tra My (26 yo) sent her parents shortly before she froze to death.

The text messages Tra My sent her parents translated:

”I deeply apologise to you, Mum and Dad”

”The road to live overseas is not successful”

”Dear Mum”

”I love you very much, Mum and Dad”

” I die because I can’t breathe”

”Town Nghèn, district Can Lộc, province Hà Tĩnh”

”I love you very much Mum”

Below is the picture of the parents of one of the 39 lorry-death victim. It shows that the victims could come from wealthy high-ranking Vietnamese Communist official families.

Parents of victim Pham Thi Tra My (26yo).

Parents of victim Pham Thi Tra My (26yo) after news of her death in the refrigerated truck in Essex, England.

Facebook of victim Tra My shows she travelled a lot.

Facebook page of victim Tra My.

Love Paradise – Love Hell’s related information

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Vietnamese-American women place strict rules on men returning to homeland – written – By JOHN BOUDREAU | Mercury News, Bay Area News Group
PUBLISHED: November 5, 2011 at 5:03 pm | UPDATED: August 13, 2016 at 1:47 pm (link to the article)

Photo by Jim Gensheimer/San Jose Mercury News. 2/2000. –VIETNAM– The bar scene in Ho Chi Minh City is complete with women wearing scant outfits. Right after the war, this kind of dress would have been cause for imprisonment. As Vietnam opened up to the West in the early nineties, dress codes were relaxed.

US sailors of the visiting USS Curtis Wilbur drink and chat with Vietnamese women at a bar inside a dancing in downtown Da Nang on 29 July 2004. The Arleigh Buirke class guided missile destroyer is on the second port call by an American military vessel since the Vietnam War ended three decades ago. The 342-strong crew of the ship will spend six days in the city where US Marines landed in March 1965, becoming the first American combat troops in Vietnam. (Photo credit should read HOANG DINH NAM/AFP/Getty Images)

HO CHI MINH CITY, Vietnam — The trouble for Henry Liem begins every time he prepares to return to his homeland.

Getting the required visa from the Vietnamese government is a breeze. It’s the “second visa” — from his wife worried that he will stray over there — that requires diplomatic skills.

“My wife is always cranky every time I go,” said Liem, a philosophy instructor at San Jose City College who visits Vietnam twice a year to teach at a university. “So I rarely disclose my upcoming trip until the last minute. It’s pain minimization. The longer she knows, the longer I have to bear the pain.”

Thirty-six years after the Vietnam War ended, Communist government officials openly welcome Vietnamese-Americans back, even those who fought against them. But another Civil War has erupted, this one pitting Vietnamese-American women against their husbands and boyfriends who want to return to the Southeast Asian country. The men’s significant others contend that Vietnamese women lie in wait to ambush them, often eager for the financial stability such a match would bring.

“All the girls in Vietnam are aggressive. They attack!” said Ha Tien, 38, who owns an accounting business in San Jose. She said she lost her man to such a love guerrilla a few years ago.

The Wicked Witch

It has now been several months since I met Lantern. I decide, that I can wait no longer; I have to act on my promise.

Comments about this post on ABC Open 500 Words- Dear unfinished business.

I ducked into a store when I saw Lantern at a shopping centre because I haven’t fulfilled my promise made to her, whose family seems like they’ve been put under a curse by a wicked witch. As I know her family, and am older than her, Lantern sought me for help in her desperate attempt to save her parents’ marriage.

In recent years, Lantern’s mother has become sick and homebound. Lantern’s father, a pensioner laden with the stress of caring for his wife, sadness and loneliness, has been seeing another woman who is about ten years younger.

The Wicked Witch poem

(Sicilian-Quatrain-style poem)

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The octopus arms of the wicked witch,
Squeeze hard and choke to death the old man’s heart.
A blind man’s guided by an artful bitch,
The tart beams gaily as the couple part.

Image credit
by Jim H..

A Murder, a Paedophile, a Cougar and the Deported Chinese

My neighbourhood showed its seamy face under Communism in 1979.

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Mrs Chowmein was murdered!

It was the curious vagabonds who slept in front of the widower’s abode that discovered the rivulet of blood from inside the house, dripping down to where they were sleeping.

The vagrants formed part of the late-70s communist era’s phenomenon. They had previously belonged to the bourgeoisie groups, but forfeited their money and jewellery, anyways found themselves banished from their own homes to the barren land of the New Economic Zones before later finding their way back to the city.

I learned of Mrs Chowmein’s fate after waking up early to queue for the monthly family meat ration. I was struck with disbelief, fear and overwhelming sadness, I couldn’t accept the fact that there was a murder in my neighbourhood even though I read and heard about it everyday. My mind was numb for the whole day and I couldn’t help chatting to the crowd gathered in front of Mrs Chowmein’s house.

A Muder, a Paedophile, a Cougar and the Deported Chinese poem

(Pleiades-style poem)

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Shocking

Summoned to the court of conscience,
Sadly, hunger caused murder,
Sickeningly, daughter sold to paedophile,
Shamelessly, cougar committed adultery in broad daylight,
Surprisingly, the Chinese paid to be deported,
Scandalously, under Communism, my neighborhood showed its seamy face,
Sordidly, money and sex led the crimes.

Image credit
by Prince Roy.

Love Paradise – Love Hell

The well-travelled track taken by some pensioners, using the Australian dollar’s power to buy younger flesh and deceptive lovers in Vietnam.

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It was a cold and wet winter morning. Passing an intersection, the car in front of mine turned into it at too high-speed, slid sideways, spun around and hit my car. Both cars were slighted dented. The road was empty as it was still early hours so no other cars were involved in the accident. As we exchanged contact details, glancing at the other driver’s special name, I wondered if she was my primary school classmate. I was burning with curiosity but I had to drive off to take my Chihuahua to the emergency vet clinics.

Tragically and heartbreakingly, Gigi passed away as we arrived there.

Love Paradise – Love Hell poem

(Dorsimbra-style poem)

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The honey trap of sexual pleasure trips,
Solution for everlasting life,
Vibrates so well around the old men’s hips,
And leads them to the land that is crime-rife.

Worship self-love,
Burn up honor,
Stamp on moral,
Abandon wives.

The dollar’s smell attracts the con men well,
The frail old men are robbed of their wealth then.
Disease-ridden, displaced and penniless,
The honey trap of sexual pleasure trips!

Image credit
by Evo Flash.

The sinister side of Papa

A lecherous old man who pretends to be good Santa,
The sexual abuse of young girls is on his agenda.

Comments about this post on ABC Open 500 words – What I was wearing.

On the day I left Sungei Besi transit camp for Australia, I wore a yellow T-shirt bought from the camp’s only grocery and sundry shop, which was run by a Chinese Malaysian couple. My shoes, jeans and travel bag all were bought with my money by ‘Papa’.

Papa was a Cantonese-speaking, Chinese-Malaysian man in his 60s who was thin, bald, agile, vivacious and quick-tongued, and insisted that the Vietnamese people called him ‘Papa’. He looked after the camp’s general store that contained goods for the refugees’ daily use: small food and drink buckets, sheets, blankets,…

I happened to know Papa when one day, on his regular walk around the camp, he visited our ‘shipping-container’ residence. All the girls and women crowded around the ‘Asian Santa Claus’. He gave each of us a packet of Nasi Lemak (Malaysian rice dish) wrapped in banana leaf. I could never forget the fragrant and rich coconut rice as well as the crispy fried anchovies, the sweet-and-sour garlic chilli sauce and the big sunny-side-up egg. Decades later, after many trips to Malaysia I could never find any Nasi Lemak that tasted so nice as the one Papa gave me that day. Maybe the pale Malaysian milk tea, the instant noodles, half-cooked soggy fried chicken, insipid and tainted steamed salted fish and other lacklustre meals that I invariably received day after day in the camp had accentuated the flavour of that dish?

The shame chair

There was a ‘shame chair’ in the house that I would share with other Vietnamese refugee girls. Blueberry was tied to the chair for hours…

Comments about this post on ABC Open 500 words – My big secret.

I never told my friends out of shame that two men had cowardly tricked me and I narrowly escaped ‘the shame chair’ in the house I shared with other Vietnamese refugee girls. To the girls in the house, they still believed that I harboured a secret of what happended that night.