The Odyssey of the Seven Trinhs

The Trinh family's 10,000-mile odyssey from their home in Saigon to New York City has been both stormy and perilous. The seven Trinh brothers and sisters, who are ethnic Chinese, had secretly set sail from Saigon in April 1979 in a rickety fishing boat, with no more than a 50% chance of survival. Arriving on the coast of Malaysia one week later, the Trinhs first spent a year in a squalid refugee camp, then embarked for the U.S. last October. They arrived in New York City, where they were greeted by an uncle who lives in Queens. TIME Correspondent James Wilde spent several days with the Trinhs to see how they have been settling in. His report:

For refugees the sorrow of exile is the crudest pain of all. When they finally arrive at their longed-for destination, there comes a time for tears. Like travelers shipwrecked on an alien island, they weep over their lost homeland, their abandoned relatives and friends.

The Trinhs have done their share of weeping. When they arrived eleven weeks ago, they cried for their parents and the 12-year-old brother they had to leave behind. But soon they were caught up in the bewildering process of resettlement. Caseworkers from the International Rescue Committee helped the Trinhs apply for Social Security cards and welfare for the four youngest teenagers: Thanh, 19; So Trung, 17; So Lan, 16; and So Huong, 14. The I.R.C. gave the Trinhs $330 for food, supplied them with winter clothing and paid their rent and utilities for two months.

The Trinhs are living in a four-room apartment in a huge, gloomy, rundown building off Ocean Avenue in Brooklyn.

The furniture, some secondhand, was provided by the I.R.C.: two double beds, three single beds, a table, a chest of drawers and seven chairs for the seven siblings. The walls are bare except for a Buddhist shrine. It is cold. The Trinhs' apartment has been getting little heat during New York City's cold winter.

The I.R.C. has complained to the city on behalf of the Trinhs and the other Vietnamese refugees in the building. "They

don't like to complain about anything," says an I.R.C. representative.

What is ahead for the Trinhs? At first haltingly, then with increasing verve, they pour out their hopes and concerns. Says the eldest brother, Tuyen, 24: "I'll do anything for now, but some day I want to get a few acres of land and grow fruit trees as I did in Viet Nam." Tuyen is satisfied with his first job. He is stuffing feathers in down coats for a clothing manufacturer at $4.50 an hour. Brother Thanh is tinkering at home. "I found this broken television set in the garbage on the street, and I'm trying to find out how to fix it," he says.

Learning English is the Trinh family's priority. The four teen-agers all attend public school in Brooklyn. They still feel estranged. Only one American girl in Ditmas Junior High School has tried to make friends with So Huong, for example. Says the ninth-grader: "I don't know how to talk to anyone yet, and I don't know how to do my homework." After school or work, the whole family spends long hours poring over their copy of Access to English as a Second Language.

The Trinhs are understandably fearful of crime. The first day they moved to Brooklyn they witnessed a mugging in the subway. Says Thuy, 22: "We've been warned not to leave home unless it's necessary, not to go out after dark, and to always travel in twos and threes." Adds Thuc Phan, 20: "How can we tell robbers we are too poor to rob?"

A powerful bond of familial love provides solace and strength. Says Tuyen:

"Our brothers and sisters are all we have now; we will stick together as long as we possibly can." As the Trinhs sit around their table on their seven chairs, their eyes sparkle with life and good humor. Says Tuyen: "Our grandparents left China for Viet Nam, and now we, the third generation, have left for the U.S. We intend to do what our forebears did: survive."

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