Vietnamese United States

The beleaguered production of "Miss Saigon" has come under new attack, this time from Vietnamese-Americans who charge that the hit London musical stereotypes and demeans the Vietnamese. "Again and again, Hollywood and the theatrical world have exploited the Vietnam War, and here we go again," said Chi-Muoi Lo, a Los Angeles actor and playwright who is organizing Vietnamese community protests against the play.

In a throwback to Cold War-era strategies, Vietnam's Communist government today begins a daily satellite TV broadcast to North America aimed at expatriate Vietnamese. While skeptics question the broadcast's impact, timing of the kickoff--three days before the 25th anniversary of the fall of Saigon--has inflamed passions among Vietnamese emigres who view Vietnam's "Liberation Day," April 30, as the blackest day in what they call Black April.

Prison camp memories fade slowly. Choat Dinh Quach best remembers the "iron boxes." Ten years later, the memory still terrifies him. The solid steel boxes measured about 4 feet by 4 feet--not enough room for a prisoner to stand or to lie down. The boxes sat in the tropical sun. Inside, even the toughest of men usually lasted only about a month, Quach said. Then they went mad or died. Some killed themselves.

Poor immigrants vary widely in their use of public benefits, with low-income Filipinos, Vietnamese and Cubans being relatively high users while Mexicans and Central Americans are less likely to be on welfare, according to a UCLA study released Tuesday. In fact, the study showed, low-income Mexican and Central American immigrants are generally less likely than the poor U.S. population as a whole to receive major public benefits.

Over the last 28 years, Frank Norwood had often wondered about the South Vietnamese Army captain he advised during his 1968 combat tour. He assumed that his counterpart, Capt. Le Tan Lao, did not survive the war and perished either on the battlefield or in a Communist prison camp after South Vietnam's defeat in 1975. Earlier this year, Norwood was "shocked" to learn that Lao was alive and living in Minnesota.

Her mother sent her here, she says, fidgeting a little, breaking into a grin, not quite sure if happiness is called for or not. People around her are speaking English, a language that she recognizes only for its incomprehensible sounds. When she speaks, her words are Vietnamese. Thu-Ha Le has been in Orange County's Little Saigon a week. She was born in Bien Hoa on the outskirts of that other Saigon, the one that no longer officially exists.

Dubbing it a "season of affirmation," a group of Orange County Vietnamese Americans on Tuesday announced plans for Project 20 (1975-1995), an ambitious commemoration of next spring's 20th anniversary of Vietnam War refugees' arrival in the United States.

A media advocacy group has called on the federal government and the media to investigate the unsolved slayings of five Vietnamese journalists in the United States, including the 1987 killing of a Little Saigon magazine publisher.

Armed with a video camera--and a tip from an informant--three police officers and a Chicago-based FBI agent are tracking a murder suspect at the Marian Days festival. It's a "cloak and dagger" operation, says Houston police investigator Al Lotz. Each time officers approach, the suspect gets lost among the festival-goers, changing his identity with a change of clothes. Finally, he is apprehended near a statue that depicts Mary leading Vietnamese to freedom and safety.

As dusk falls, promising relief from the sticky heat of an August day in Southwest Missouri, the fragrance of incense blends with the smoke curling up from barbecues on which sizzle thit heo kho , a sweet-and-sour pork, and ga nuong , chicken marinated in fish and soy sauces.

Over the last 28 years, Frank Norwood had often wondered about the South Vietnamese Army captain he advised during his 1968 combat tour. He assumed that his counterpart, Capt. Le Tan Lao, did not survive the war and perished either on the battlefield or in a Communist prison camp after South Vietnam's defeat in 1975. Earlier this year, Norwood was "shocked" to learn that Lao was alive and living in Minnesota.

The FBI has halted its advertisement in Vietnamese-language newspapers that had drawn criticism from civil libertarians for asking emigres to report to the agency anyone they believed might be a spy for Hanoi, regardless of whether they had evidence. George Grotz, a spokesman for the San Francisco office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, said the ad has run its course after a two-month contract with the Westminster-based Nguoi Viet Daily and another newspaper in Houston.

A group of Vietnamese commandos who worked for the CIA and U.S. military behind enemy lines before being captured and held in camps for decades have been denied refuge in the United States, the New York Times reported Friday. The commandos, known as the "lost patrols," were captured and imprisoned in the 1960s, the Times said. Reviled as traitors, they now want to leave Vietnam and come to the United States. The U.S.

In the crowded and chilly common area of the Asian Garden Mall in Little Saigon, Cao Doan sits alone, absent-mindedly sipping cafe au lait from a plastic cup and smoking his umpteenth cigarette. His dark brown eyes stare languidly into the window of the past as he recalls his life in Vietnam, an era upon which he usually prefers not to dwell.

In the crowded and chilly common area of the Asian Garden Mall in Little Saigon, Cao Doan sits alone, absent-mindedly sipping cafe au lait from a plastic cup and smoking his umpteenth cigarette. His dark brown eyes stare languidly into the window of the past as he recalls his life in Vietnam, an era upon which he usually prefers not to dwell.

On the morning after Saigon fell in 1975, Dr. Co Pham fastened his 4-month-old son to his shoulder with a piece of cloth and boarded a fishing boat with his family, not knowing whether his decision to leave his war-torn country would ultimately keep them alive or kill them. "He and I had one future," Pham said. "At that time, all I thought about was that we were going to die out in the middle of the ocean. I had chosen death rather than to stay home.

On the morning after Saigon fell in 1975, Dr. Co Pham fastened his 4-month-old son to his shoulder with a piece of cloth and boarded a fishing boat with his family, not knowing whether his decision to leave his war-torn country would ultimately keep them alive or kill them. "He and I had one future," Pham said. "At that time, all I thought about was that we were going to die out in the middle of the ocean. I had chosen death rather than to stay home.

Transfer Service Weighed: Just one week after New York-based Citibank introduced a direct-funds transfer service to Vietnam for Vietnamese Americans, Bank of America said it is also interested in establishing a similar service. "We are looking at that," said Jim Mitchell, a Bank of America spokesman in San Francisco. "I know we're interested in looking into the Vietnamese market."

In District 3, just north of the center of town, an upscale boutique stands out among the battered stores, sidewalk bicycle repairmen and pushcart vendors selling noodles with pungent-smelling meats and sauces. Squeaky-clean windows and doors give way to freshly painted walls, racks of silk and linen dresses and a row of wooden dressing rooms. The sign atop the store, one of three in the former Saigon owned by a pair of 33-year-old Americans, reads "Dung/Joyce U.S.A Fashion."

Dubbing it a "season of affirmation," a group of Orange County Vietnamese Americans on Tuesday announced plans for Project 20 (1975-1995), an ambitious commemoration of next spring's 20th anniversary of Vietnam War refugees' arrival in the United States.