Self-identification, soul-searching; There are varying degrees and definitions of these introspective moments or phases everyone experiences throughout life. I think most people can relate to driving by a childhood home or neighborhood. It stirs about memories and lends itself to a reflection of who we are, because largely in part it is our experiences and attitudes toward them that help define who we are. In the book Catfish and Mandala, Author Andrew Pham embarks one one of the most dramatic and magnificent journeys I have ever heard. His fatherland in Vietnam and homeland in California are nearly one hundred and eighty degrees apart in geographic location, but his search for his cultural identity lies almost entirely within. His epic travels twenty years after escaping Vietnam take him around the U.S., Japan, and modern day Vietnam on pocket cash and a bicycle. His search and discoveries offer great insight to his plight as a refugee at the age of ten. I would like to discuss his travels, what he gained from them, and what the significance of his travels are. His incredible journey reveals so much on so many levels. Andrew departs on his trip after resigning from his “doomed from the start” job as an engineering post at a major airline (Pham,25). With the economy in a recession and a heavy tinge of disapproval in his fathers eyes, he decides now is the time to liquidate assets and just go. Along the first leg of his trip, the racial tensions in America that Andrew is not ignorant of spill from the passing of cars and truckers. His first stay with an acquaintance, Patty in Portland Oregon, would reveal a genuine trait that would reverberate through the rest of his travels. Andrew and Patty’s company all partake in a night full of innocence and untainted generosity that allow Andrew to forget about his hardships for the first time in a long time. Having only been for one night, he truly feels he belongs (Pham, 40). His narration of this particular visit tells so much about who he really is and where he is at this point in his life. Having been through so much and feeling a lack of completeness he has discovered his drive and will to continue on his journey. Andrew knows his money is dwindling and he must push on; flying out of Seattle and into Tokyo Japan where he has a forty five day layover. Japan proves to test Andrew even more as here he cannot speak Japanese hardly at all, let alone read maps or signs. His forty five days are a battle against inclement weather as well as indifferent reactions from Japanese society. Alas Andrew is on his way to Vietnam, his fatherland. The book is a bit tricky to follow as the chapters jump back and fourth through the timeline of Andrews life. One of his first observations since his return to Vietnam was the smell of fish sauce, which evoked memories of his childhood. His grandmothers and grandfathers amazing fish sauce that he was always spoiled with as a child (Pham, 52-54). The secret recipes would only be passed on before an elder went to their grave. His stories mention his grandparents practice of buddhism, a particular fish being a key ingredient in good fish sauce, and with the definition of mandala; I start to get a bigger picture to the title Catfish and Mandala. It is eclectically self evident, yet too complex and intricate to put into words. It is an abstract portrait of Andrew’s life experiences. Early childhood memories are mostly warm and pleasant aside from his fathers imprisonment and the day he got his sister Chi in trouble which he felt kept her distant from the family ever since (Pham, 56). It is the experiences of a grown man revisiting his childhood twenty years later that I would like to further discuss. Another Middle aged couple are his first acquaintances as they exchange greetings in Vietnamese and they assert that Andrew is “one hundred percent fishsauce” (Pham, 63). Their dialogue exchange is interesting in the sense that the Vietnamese couple are baffled by Andrew’s return with no intentions of bringing money to visit family. They consider Andrew “mat goch” or lost roots, and they extend hospitality to him in the event he needs it (Pham, 63). Needing a sense of direction, Andrew first tracks down his grand aunt and uncle. He is surprised that most everything has changed by means of just being knocked down and rebuilt with restructuring of neighborhoods. His Grand aunt and uncles being no exception with “fourteen adults, children, and servants” living in their humble abode (Pham, 72). They are all shocked to hear that he intends to ride his bicycle solo to Hanoi. Even trying to talk him out of it, but Andrew has his mind set. His short stay with the distant relatives makes him feel like an outsider. Instance after instance he notices that there has been a slight improvement in the quality of life but for the most part, the country needs serious mending. He is protested against breaking social customs until after one dinner in which he offers a young girl and a baby the little money he has. But he is aware that a one time fix won’t help the young girl the next day or the day or week or month after that. He feels like an outsider that the locals want a hand out from. Feeling alienated he begins to view Saigon as a “grubby” and “needy” place (Pham, 102). I think the significance of Andrews travels reveal the hardships still present in modern day Vietnam. That the hardships of the people have become enmeshed in the culture. The exploits of their labor, the cold shoulder to their own kind, and the tight knit family values tell a story that is all too real. Vietnam is need of a lot of healing, the war took its toll on civilians and the economy more than government and military. Andrew offered experienced insight to the day to day life of his childhood, his refuge in California, life in Vietnam after the war, and gave his own perspective on the harsh sadness of the reality. He also knows that self determination and the will for each to have his own has slowly but surely helped improve living and working conditions, but that there is a long ways to go.