Besançon: Two Birds With One Stone

The initial purpose of my trip to France was purely to visit Ernest and Nicole. But after they had excitedly announced my visit to other people who also knew me, I had many more appointments than expected. To kill two birds with one stone, Ernest invited the Goy for dinner at the restaurant owned by the Phua so that I could meet at the same time both Asian French families of the same Teochew ancestry as my mother.

Sylvain Goy and his wife Choo were Chinese Cambodians of origin. They had sought refuge in France to flee the Khmer Rouge. When they first settled down in Besançon, they were neighbours to Pépère who discreetly left food in front of where they were staying. Later when they found out who was the good Samaritan, they were extremely grateful. That was how the friendship had been passed down to the younger generations.

The Goy couple had three children: Poly, Kimly and Emily. When I was first introduced to them, the boys were teenagers and their youngest toddler sister was always dressed up like a princess. This time I met this family again, Poly was already a married expatriate living in Quebec with his Mexican wife. Kimly, who was doing his practical training in Penang, was a final year student of his Master's degree. And Emily had grown up to be an eleven-year-old soft-spoken girl.

If not for the Toitot's insisted invitation, they would have never eaten in a Chinese restaurant, since Choo herself was an excellent cook specialized in Cambodian food, Chinese meals as well as French cuisine. When I was invited to their house together with the Toitot family, especially for the Chinese new year meal, I knew that her mouth-watering spring rolls, meat and vegetarian dishes, apple and banana fritters were going to add a few kilos on my already plump body.

With the Hua family, the story was slightly different. They had followed the mass departure from communist-controlled Vietnam in boats which landed on the shores of Malaysia for a short period, before being received in France. Although they had become French citizens for a few decades, they were still very attached to their Chinese Vietnamese origins.

I do not know how they got to know the Toitot. But according to Nicole, Aunty Hua, currently in her seventies, with her three children, were independent caterers. The Toitot were the first ones to encourage them to own this Phenix restaurant.

Nicole's brother-in-law was among those responsible for the renovation. Nicole praised that the restaurant was always very well maintained.

I used to work temporarily there as a part-time kitchen helper when I was staying in the convent. After I had moved to the studio at Canot, they employed me again, but as a waitress.

I was not alone to work at the counter. Thi My, the Hua's eldest daughter, also served food and drink at the tables. In addition to that, she was in charge of taking orders and receiving payments. She was so petite that some first time customers took her for a little girl!

When I appeared at the restaurant at the early opening hour, Thi My recognized me immediately. She was taking an order from a table. So she signalled me to show my face at the kitchen where her mother and brothers were not yet too busy with the preparations. None of them had changed physically, but they had found me a more mature lady than the younger chubby worker they had known more than seven years ago...I really missed their warm smiles and kindness towards the employees.

Later during my meal with other guests, Thi My came to me and invited me personally for a private dinner with her family on the following Monday. That made my list of appointments even longer!