Ever since I was born, my grandfather developed a rather unique hobby—naming his grandchildren after elements of nature. So, quite literally, my siblings and I are named Ocean Anh, Cloud Anh, Mountain Anh, Water Anh, and I am Forest Anh.
Our next-door neighbor also got caught up in this "elegant" pastime, so he insisted on naming his son Wind Anh.
But every time we had an ancestral ceremony and our cousins came over, with everyone sharing the same middle name, instead of calling out "Hai Anh," "Van Anh," or "Thuy Anh," our elders simply referred to us as Lam and Phong—Lam being me, and Phong being the neighbor's son.
The problem was, I was a girl, and being called Lam felt strange. So besides Lam Anh, the adults started calling me Chun. Eventually, it became a habit, and soon, everyone in the neighborhood—regardless of age or gender—called me Chun.
"Go ask your mom why your name is Chun."
Until I was five, I had never questioned the origin of my substitute name—until the neighbor's son urged me to. Taking his advice, I sprinted home to ask, only to find that my mom was still out shopping. So I turned to my dad.
"Because when you were in her belly, your mom loved wearing elastic-waist pants (quan chun)."
Satisfied with this answer, I ran back and repeated it verbatim to the neighbor's son. He then broadcasted it to the entire neighborhood, and suddenly, every kid started teasing me. I was so mortified—tears, snot, and drool all running down my face—that I locked myself inside, refusing to step out. Because the moment I did, that brat would undoubtedly link my name to those ridiculous pants again. I was such a fool—why had I foolishly shared my "family secret" with him?
I call it a secret because my grandfather exclusively wore elastic-waist pants.
It wasn't until much later that I discovered the truth—not only had he named me Forest Anh, but Chun was his doing too.
But I didn't sulk for long. Before I knew it, I was back at Phong's house.
"Already chasing girls at such a young age, huh?"
Back then, I had no idea what "chasing girls" meant when my dad called me home for dinner from Phong's house—along with two other girls.
"Might as well claim our future daughter-in-law now."
I didn't understand the adults at all, but the next day, as usual, I wandered back to the neighbor's house.
"Aha! I just came up with a fun game!"
"What game, Phong?"
"Let's play bride and groom! I'll be the groom, and whoever eats this balut egg for me gets to be the bride."
"What does being a bride mean?" I finally spoke up.
"It means… I'll kiss her on the cheek."
The three of us girls exchanged glances, then looked at the egg. None of us liked balut—it was so pungent, and there was a half-formed duck inside! But for some inexplicable reason, I ate the whole thing.
The others watched in awe, including Phong. But I didn't get to be the bride.
"What? Why not?"
"You're so dumb! A bride has to be pretty, like Yen. You and Mai can be our kids."
"What does being a kid mean?" I asked.
"It means you have to call us Mom and Dad."
"No way! Mai wants to be the bride!"
Once Mai, the crybaby, started wailing, no one could calm her down. So our dear neighbor had to make a compromise:
"Fine, you can be my second wife."
"What about Chun?"
"You'll be the child of me and Mai. I love Yen more, so I won't make her have kids."
"But—"
"That's final. If you don't play along, we don't need you."
So I accepted my role as the child, even though I had eaten the egg, because I thought brides had to be either pretty like Yen or as whiny as Mai.
"Smooch."
Mai and I stared, wide-eyed, as Phong pressed his lips against Yen's cheek. They hadn't even held a wedding yet—how could they do something so adult? Horrified, I bolted home, with Mai right behind me.
That night, Phong got scolded by Yen's parents, while Mai clutched her stomach, laughing hysterically. Phong was no longer allowed to play with Yen, so he ended up coming over to my house instead.
"Chun, eat up before Phong laughs at you!"
I ignored my mom's coaxing—there was no way I could stomach another balut egg.
"Why aren't you eating? You gobbled it up just fine at my house this morning!"
"This morning, Chun swallowed it whole. That's different from eating."
"Then swallow it whole again!"
"No."
"If you don't eat, how will you play with me?"
That was all it took. I shoved the chopped-up egg into my mouth, swallowed it down in one gulp, and happily skipped after Phong.
"Hey, aren't we inviting Yen and Mai?"
"How? Mai's a tattle-tale. I'm done playing with her."
"Mmm."
"…My parents are definitely gonna find out about today. You should say you tricked me into it."
"Lying is bad."
"I'm gonna get spanked so bad my butt will be swollen for days. Don't you care about me at all? If you say it was your idea, my parents will just talk to yours. You can tell them you were joking, and I took it seriously."
I started to waver. Phong's dad's spankings were no joke—if Phong got caught, he'd be stuck in bed with a red, swollen butt for days, and then I'd have no one to play with.
"Fine, if you won't help, I'll just go get ready for my punishment."
"…Alright, I'll do it."
As expected, Phong only got two lashes. Meanwhile, I got off scot-free because my parents refused to believe their daughter could come up with such a scheme.
"You're such a fool! My kid keeps getting bullied by that brat, and instead of learning from him, she just lets him lead her around by the nose!"
Ew. Lead by the nose? That meant putting a ring through someone's nostril like an ox! How horrifying.
I sat there eating dinner, trying to figure out how one could possibly thread a needle through a nose.
How exactly had Phong "led me by the nose"?