EXPLORING THE UNITED STATES AFTER THE 9/11 TERRORIST ATTACKS - Phạm Việt Long

PORTRAITS OF MY FRIENDS: MARISA LOPPO - Phạm Việt Long - 22

In her role as the local coordinator, Marisa Loppo served our group with exceptional attentiveness. Of Spanish descent, she was slender and nimble. Marisa Loppo consistently responded promptly to our needs, often intuitively understanding them even when they went unspoken.

Upon our arrival in America, when we were still figuring out how to send a gift package requested by a friend to his family, Marisa quickly took it upon herself to deliver it to the post office. During our working sessions, as we sat, she moved gracefully around the room, carrying out official tasks such as distributing documents and delivering gifts. She approached each of us with a soft-spoken inquiry about our beverage preferences, be it tea or coffee, and then swiftly brought us a glass of water upon request.

Marisa was remarkably perceptive; if she noticed someone quietly leaving the room, she instinctively grasped their needs and followed suit. In many New York offices, the restrooms are often locked. Were it not for her subtle assistance—rushing to procure the key and providing guidance—many of us might have found ourselves in confusing and awkward situations.

Marisa's circumstances were far from ideal – her parents had divorced, and she had been living independently since a young age. During her student years, she had to work part-time selling books. It reminded me of a Vietnamese saying, "The book seller is half-asleep," but when I mentioned this to Marisa, she just laughed.

"No," she replied. "Amidst the bustling pace of life in America, how can these bright and alert chestnut eyes, hidden beneath those curled eyelashes, ever sleep?" Her eyes sparkled like a carefree fire, seemingly untouched by the pragmatism and self-interest often associated with American life. They radiated joy and warmth towards her new friends.

Even as she sold books to make ends meet, Marisa was a diligent student. She successfully passed the entrance exam and enrolled at California University, a prestigious American institution. Throughout her university years, despite the significant expenses (amounting to $5,000 per semester), Marisa continued to sell books while pursuing her studies. I couldn't help but wonder how many books had passed through her hands into the hands of eager readers.

When we broached the subject of the September 11th tragedy, Marisa fell silent. She revealed that her partner had a close friend who perished in the rubble, leaving behind a grieving spouse and a young child. Reflecting on the events of September 11th, she shared her thoughts, saying, "After September 11th, I took a long look at my life and realized just how precious what I have truly is. That tragic event brought New Yorkers closer together, fostering a sense of love and care for one another that had never been so pronounced. It reminds us of the truly invaluable values that we must share with each other."

At around 28 years of age, Marisa, slim, agile, and gentle like a cat, spared no effort in serving our group during a period of urgent work. Our team toiled from 9 am to 7 or 8 pm, often discussing matters even while dining. This routine, the absence of lunch breaks, extensive walking, and irregular eating patterns, mirrored the typical characteristics of the overseas business trips I had been a part of. Such rigorous work demanded robust health and considerable effort from those aiming to achieve positive outcomes on short-term international study excursions. However, Marisa, an American herself, faced the same challenges as us, sometimes even more strenuously.

One day, after concluding our work at the New York Public Library, we needed to continue at New York University, leaving us with little time for lunch. In a sudden and delightful surprise, we found ourselves at a cake counter, only to discover that Marisa had already ordered meals for us. Each person's lunch consisted of a paper bag containing a sandwich and a bottle of mineral water. She led us to a flower garden to relax and dine.

Beneath the warm yet still refreshing sunlight, the flower garden teemed with people—some eating, some engrossed in books, others chatting or affectionately embracing on benches. No one seemed to pay much attention to the others. We sat on a row of stone benches, enjoying our meals while watching a group of teenagers perform entertaining tricks. However, Marisa was far from leisurely. Before she had even finished her cake, she glanced at the clock and promptly stood up. She needed to return to New York University to make preparations for our upcoming meeting, particularly with Professor Dan Martin, known for his strong principles. She emphasized the importance of adhering to regulations and protocols in her interactions with them.

On the day before we parted ways, we presented Marisa with a small gift: a white tablecloth adorned with embroidered scenes depicting the Vietnamese countryside. She eagerly inquired, "Can I open it and take a look?" Seeing our enthusiastic approval, she carefully unfurled the tablecloth and pointed at the intricate embroidery, exclaiming, "It's so beautiful! Is this a buffalo? And the boat and the river, they're stunning too!" She examined each embroidered image with a bright smile, displaying genuine appreciation.

With warmth in her voice, she made a heartfelt promise, saying, "On the occasion when you can come, Marisa will invite you to dine at her home, and I will spread this beautiful tablecloth on the banquet table!" Her affection towards us was akin to a sister bidding farewell to her own family. Marisa bestowed each of us with a small token of her appreciation. In my case, it was a baseball cap embroidered with the words "New York." We all eagerly anticipated the prospect of reuniting with Marisa in Vietnam, as she had plans to come and work here by the end of the year.