Written by Nguyen Anh Tuan
Coordinated by Tanaka Aki
Fifty years ago on April 30, Saigon fell, marking the end of the Vietnam War. On that day, Nguyen Anh Tuan, a Vietnamese-American and also an acquaintance of Project Research Fellow Tanaka Aki, was living and studying in Japan. We wondered what he might think when reflecting on that time.
When Aki asked Tuan if he could write a column describing his experiences at that time, he kindly replied with the following article written in English.
Tuan: April, when the cherry blossoms bloom, marks the beginning of a new school year. The government and companies also begin their new fiscal year. Everything starts afresh as spring arrives, bringing a sense of harmony, characteristic of Japanese culture.
I was reminded of a time 47 years ago, far in the past, when I arrived at the Hongo campus and crossed the “Akai-mon” (赤い門) of Todai to begin my journey as a “kenkyusei” (research student) there. It was an emotional moment. The cherry blossoms were blooming at “Sanshiro-Ike” (三四郎池), and the atmosphere was incredibly fresh. I also had the opportunity to see “Yasuda Hall” (安田講堂), which was notable—or perhaps notorious—during the 1970s student movement. At that time, everything was quiet.
The Engineering Department had its own library, but occasionally, I visited the “General Library” (総合図書館), climbing its iconic red steps that led to the top. Walking up those steps felt as if I were on a red carpet. After a few months there, I obtained a visa to come to the United States. Although my time at Todai was brief, the experience has remained with me forever. It was short yet profoundly memorable.
I consider it akin to the experience described by Mr. Kawabata Yasunari (川端康成 ) in his novel, “Izu no Odoriko (The Dancing Girl of Izu) ” (伊豆の踊子 ). His trip was fleeting, but it lingered within him for a lifetime.
General Library, the University of Tokyo ©The University of Tokyo
Aki: I am truly grateful for and impressed by Tuan’s poetic piece of writing, much like how Vietnam is known as the country of rich poetry culture. While Tuan specializes in engineering, he is also well-versed in Japanese history and literature. In particular, although I was partly aware that he had visited Izu to see places associated with “Izu no Odoriko,” this article allowed me to learn how deeply Japanese literature has seeped into Tuan’s being, more so than it has for most Japanese.
Tuan came to Japan to study from South Vietnam. Since April 30, 1975, having lost his homeland and his nationality, he found himself in a situation where staying in Japan was the only option. Tuan, could you please share with us about the emotions you experienced during that difficult period?
Tuan: In the summer of 1978, I obtained a visa to come to America and reunite with my family. (Note from Aki: Tuan was very eager to stay in Japan, but the Japanese government was slow to grant him a residence permit. Eventually he chose to rely on his sister who has an American nationality.) It was a bittersweet moment—on one hand, the joy of being with my family again, and on the other, the sadness of leaving Japan, where I had studied, worked, and spent my “seishun” (青春, youth). I still have cherished memories of my friends, professors, and managers who supported me in countless ways during my time there. I loved Japan deeply and considered it my second “furusato” (故郷, hometown).
The fall of South Vietnam marked a broken dream for me, as I had hoped to use the knowledge and experiences I gained in Japan to contribute to rebuilding my homeland. Moving to America, however, opened a new door when another had closed.
I am profoundly grateful to Japan—a place where I grew up, studied, and worked—and where I built so many unforgettable memories. I am equally thankful to America, which welcomed me with open arms and gave me the opportunity to pursue the “American Dream,” shaping who I am today.
Aki: Tuan, could you please tell us how your life in Japan was before and after the fall of Saigon?
Visiting Kawazu seven waterfalls, where is setting of “Izu no Odoriko”
Tuan: After studying Japanese for a full year, I enrolled at Himeji Institute of Technology in the spring of 1970. However, after a few months, the entire university was temporarily closed due to the “Todai Funsō” (東大紛争). I recall that some professors visited my “geshuku” (下宿) and briefly gave me lectures and homework. One of them was Professor Kameoka, who had studied at and graduated from USC (the University of Southern California) with a Ph.D. He once said to me, “You came here to study. Unfortunately, the student movement has stopped us from going to school. I cannot lecture in the classroom, and you cannot go to the classroom either.”My “shidō sensei” (指導先生), who also graduated from the U.S. with a Ph.D. from the University of Wisconsin, was young and full of energy. His hometown was Nagano Prefecture. Sometimes, he and his wife invited me to their home to enjoy “Shinshū Soba.” When I visited, they also gave me “Shinshū Miso,” which was difficult to find in supermarkets in the early 1970s.
Another professor, Kagawa-sensei, took me and other South Vietnamese students to experience Japanese culture. He organized activities like celebrating “Ōmisoka” at Tōdai-ji in Nara, visiting Sanjūsangendō, Heian Jingū, Himeji Castle and learning about the history of Banshū. Professor Sekiguchi also invited us to enjoy “osechi ryōri” on New Year’s Day and introduced us to the tea ceremony. His hometown was Tatsuno in Hyōgo Prefecture, where I had the opportunity to visit the birthplace of the lyric writer of the song “Akatombo.”
After graduating from Himeji Institute of Technology, I pursued a master’s degree at the University of Yamanashi. From the campus, I could see Mt. Fuji and the Southern Alps surrounding Kōfu City. The snow on the mountaintops during winter was breathtaking. My new friends were very welcoming, and I truly loved the sense of “family” they provided me.
When I graduated from Yamanashi University, one of my professors retired and invited me to visit his hometown in Kumamoto. Before becoming a “salaryman,” I traveled to Kyūshū to visit him. His home was very close to Suizenji Garden—less than a 10-minute walk away. He also took me to visit Mt. Aso, an active volcano, and Kumamoto Castle.
Upon returning to Tokyo, I became a “salaryman,” working for a Sumitomo-affiliated company in the Shinjuku Sumitomo Building for two years. I resigned in the spring of 1978 to return to school at Tōdai as a research student. My time at Tōdai was brief, as I went to America in mid-August that year. Looking back, it felt like a wonderful dream. I lived a full life during my “seishun jidai” (青春時代) in Japan, and I still miss my professors and friends.
It would be incomplete not to mention the Yoneyama Scholarship from the Japan Rotary Club. Without their help and financial support, I might not have completed my education. The Himeji Rotary Club and Kōfu Kita Rotary Club were especially instrumental. The Kōfu Kita Rotary Club provided me with special financial support after the main Yoneyama Scholarship ended. I am deeply grateful to Furuya-sensei (President of Yamanashi University and a member of Kōfu Kita Rotary Club), Kagami-san (a senior member of the club), and Kitamikado-sensei (a professor at Yamanashi University and also a member of the club).
Two years ago, I had the chance to visit the Kōfu Kita Rotary Club again, but I was saddened to learn that all the members from that time had passed away. I will never forget their help and my gratitude toward Japan as a whole. In return, I have tried to give back whenever I could.
When the Tōhoku earthquake struck, I was working for a company called SanDisk in Silicon Valley. I encouraged my coworkers to contribute to the relief efforts. The company not only supported the idea but added hundreds of thousands more to the funds. If I remember correctly, the total contribution was close to one million dollars, which was sent to the Tōhoku earthquake victims via the American Red Cross. Similarly, two years ago, when the Noto Hantō earthquake occurred, we (pre-1975 Vietnamese students in Japan) raised 1,908,000 yen and donated it to the Rotary Club Japan, Kanazawa, District 2610.
❤️ Japan
Aki and Tuan
Aki: Thank you for sharing such a valuable story with us, Tuan.
Most of Tuan’s reminiscences are filled with enjoyable and beautiful moments, but there must have been just as many sad and painful experiences as there were happy memories. We should actively interpret such aspects by continuing to learn.
For those of us working in libraries, like ourselves, archiving these kinds of memories in words (or in other forms) is not just a job but also a mission.
We sincerely hope that we will be able to unearth such buried memories from now on.
Special Thanks for English Translation to Yasui Emiko (U-PARL)
30.Apr.2025