Jow Nam (走南)

I come from ancestors that had to run away

Running away from their birth place for peace of mind

Running away from their homeland for safety & comfort

Running away from their familiar surroundings to survive.

Someone in my bloodline,

must’ve looked at the war & famine & said

“Nope, I will not die here like this… & neither will my children”.

So I imagine they packed what they could:

Folded articles of clothing, jewelry, photographs & documents

They sold everything else they possessed &

gathered one last time with their loved ones to say goodbye.

Warm tears falling from their eyes & onto their cold cheeks

Only to step foot onto frail boats in the brisk morning fog.

And as the boats leapt from their docks

I can’t imagine how one’s stomach must’ve turned over

Knowing they will never ever return home.

My grandmother told me that this was called “Jow Nam”.

Literally, to run south.

Chinese running south only to get as far as Vietnam or Cambodia.

So many people had relatives doing this,

that the people in Guangdong actually coined this term: Jow Nam.

Today, we arrogantly read the pages of our family history…

Their migration patterns as just sentences on a page

Disregarding their heart ache & fears.

Why do I treat these decisions they made so lightly?

Why do I act like I’m so different?

When in reality,

I am no different than they were.

Like my ancestors, I ran south.

I ran away to find peace of mind instead of living in anguish.

I ran away to seek safety & comfort from the red, the blue, the gray & the black.

I ran away to survive the present from my own tormented memories of the past.

Jow Nam wasn’t distant from me, it became my path too.

By Ryan Samn