It started with me going out for drinks. More a work thing instead of a fun thing, as we were entertaining customers from out of town. Even a month since the breakup with Madison, going out by myself just reminded me of how alone I was. This night I pretended to be a confident single man having drinks while watching live music at the bar out the back of a big hotel downtown.
I do marketing for a small business. I after graduating university I talked my way into assistant marketing director at a fortune 500 company, only to discover that titles and pay checks do not equal satisfaction. I resigned to take a much lower paying and much lower stress level at company that grows and makes various marijuana products. Sounds really chill because of the product but the work is the same as any other marketing job. The job itself does not make the job good or bad, it is the attitude at the work place. That attitude comes from the leadership of the business.
Our boss, Josh, has been in the industry for years and is very business savvy. He knows his production very well seeking to make things work like an oiled machine. While he attended the evening's event his leadership style is to let his employees do the work and he lends a hand as he is needed. Hannah handles sales, being the main spokesperson for most of these kinds of events. I am more like her wingman since we share the same workspace at the office. We and the customers were all going to meet at a table in the back of the bar.
I unexpectedly met someone else on my way in the hotel. Crossing through the lobby there seemed to be all kinds of Chinese looking people dressed up in kinds of colorful clothing though black definitely was a dominate color. Men wore matching baggy pants and small jackets. Women dressed in skirts above the knee though many were shorter, most skirts clashed with woven colors. The garments of both sexes were covered with either fancy woven patterns or intricate embroidery, often a combination of both, all over garments. Women had beautiful woven cloth hanging down the front and back of their belts, with the front cloth being the longest at about mid-shin level. Many women wore hats covered in decorations and jingling metal, peaked hats holding decorations above the wearer's face, and cylindrical hats like a decorative wind chime extending over the wearer's head.
The lobby was a cacophony of noise as people chattered away in tonal foreign language I could never have guessed to understand. Along with people talking there also was the ringing of metal as almost every person wore a woven belt covered in bits of shining silvery metal and a necklace that would mostly cover their chest with silver-colored rings and dangling pieces. People jingled as they walked and moved.
I had to pause for a second to think if I should avoid this foreign ethnic crowd or march through it. I do not consider myself tall at 5 feet 11, but here I was a head above most people. Even with my brown complexion as my mother is black and my father is white, my long face still stood out like a sore thumb in this crowd. Most people's faces were round with squinting East Asian eyes. As I paused and took in a scene that looked more fitting on a mountain in Asia than a hotel in the US, I recognized someone. Maiv, a girl from my work, stood there wearing this ethnic clothing as if she always wore it.
You would never imagine seeing her in any gawdy or fancy clothing at work, but there she was in a black, red and pink decorative skirt (called a
tah
) that was probably mid-thigh, a black velvet jacket (called a
lah cha
) covered in red and pink designs that matched the skirt, all with tiny coins hanging off just about every part of her. Her belt (
lang yah
) was made from hundreds of tiny swinging chains each with a coin hanging at the bottom. Her necklace (
bua niya
) hangs like two dozen of silver chimes covering her bosom. On her shins she had what I can only describe as leg wraps (
dow kir kir dow
) with black cloth and lots of needlework.
She was not alone but stood close to a young man she obviously was with as they clothing closely matched each other. They were talking with another colorfully dressed couple not more than 3 yards from me.
"Maiv!" I called out. Her real name is Maivzeb but she prefers to be called Maiv. She turned to see who had called her and gave me a surprised and happy look.
"Ethan! What are you doing here?" She asked. Her face blushed a little as if she was embarrassed for me to see her.
"Hannah, Josh, and I are supposed to meet some customers for drinks down in the bar," I answer. "What is going on?" I waved my hand indicating the gathering.
"This is New Year Hmong... I mean Hmong New Year." She covered her mouth to laugh at how she said it backwards. "Ethan, this is Han, my boyfriend." She introduced the short yet stout young man at her side. "Ethan and I work at the same place." She explained our connection to her companions. Han looked me up and down as if to see if I was a challenger to his position. The other couple nodded accepting me as a friend of Maiv's, though I am sure it would take a lot more to be considered a part of their group.
"I did not realize you were Mang," I say.
"No, Hmong," Maiv corrects me.
"Mong" She giggles shaking her head 'no' at my inability to pronounce the word.
"Hmong," she says it from the back of her mouth.
"Mah-hang" The other couple bust up laughing at the butchery of pronunciation. Han rolls his eyes despairingly.
Laughing it off Maiv moved on explaining, "Yeah, my family is Hmong. My grandparents moved to the US as refugees back in the 80's. Pretty much all of us are born in the US though." She looks around the room as if speaking for all Chinese looking people present. "My father was born in Thailand, but he was only 2 when they moved to the US and he does not remember anything."
"So, your family is refugees from Thailand?" I ask assuming.
"Not really, almost all of our families came from Laos. Hmong fought for the United States against the communists. My grandmother on my father's side was from Thailand but her family got forced into the refugee camp when the military cleared their village." Maiv had always looked Chinese standing only a bit higher than 5 feet, her pudgy cheeks stood out on her round face, yet her little nose seemed pressed in. Like many Asian ethnicities she had black hair which she had braided in the back. Her eyebrows forming little whisps that highlighted her sparkling eyes. Her smile would often to go from ear to ear. Before there had never been a reason to ask where she came from.
