Anyone who knows me on a personal level, outside the The Gay Men Project and the blog, knows this trip to Vietnam was much more personal than the other trips I’ve taken for the project. I keep trying to write down how I feel–meeting my father for the first time, spending time in my mom’s childhood village–but I don’t know how I feel. Or at least I can’t put it down to words. Maybe that’s why I’m a photographer. So I’ve just taken a lot of pictures, more so documenting the experience of my mom who is returning to Vietnam for the first time in thirty-one years, since fleeing pregnant with me and with my two older sisters in a fishing boat.