Tsev Kaj Siab: A House of Joy and Healing
In the Hmong language, we call this place Tsev Kaj Siab—the house of a bright, clear heart. For many of us who came from the mountains of Laos to the cities of Minnesota, the transition was not just a change of scenery; it was a weight upon our spirits. Before coming here, many of us lived in a state of constant nyuaj siab (worry). Dia Yang, born in 1940, remembers being so depressed and burdened by worry that she could no longer walk up the stairs. For ten years she worked hard, dreaming of retirement, but when retirement finally came, the silence of staying home alone was its own kind of sickness. Her doctor saw this and told her: "You need Tsev Kaj Siab."
Mai Ying Pha, who came to St. Paul from California in 2015, had a similar story. Her social worker saw the isolation creeping in. In America, time passes slowly when you are alone. At home, the walls feel close and the days feel long. But here, the days are shorter because they are full. We no longer remember the things that worried us because we are too busy being together. The elders' center is where we find our strength. We exercise together to keep our bodies moving, and we dance to stretch our limbs. When we walk, we like to walk in large groups—like at Phalen Lake. There is strength in numbers; the conversation flows, and before you know it, you have walked further than you ever could have alone.
Chais Ntxawg Vang, who joined us in 2016, found that he couldn't simply stay home and do nothing. Here, if there is bamboo, he will weave. He weaves animals and traditional items, sharing his skills as a role model for the younger generation. He believes that to be a "good person" (ntuj), one must have a good heart and a desire to teach others.
A Sanctuary Through Hardship
The years have not been without pain. The pandemic took so much from us—sons and granddaughters were lost to COVID-19. The grief was heavy enough to break a person, but being part of this community allowed us to endure. Before the world closed, we traveled to Florida, went on cruises, and visited Las Vegas. While traveling is more difficult now, the simple joys remain:
The Food: We eat together—oatmeal and bread in the morning, and for lunch (su), we have fish, chicken, zaub tsuab, and traditional Hmong greens.
The Connection: Sometimes we get so caught up in talking and sharing stories that we forget to eat.
The Support: For those of us who cannot drive, the center takes us to the store and the doctor. It removes the "tiredness" of being a burden and replaces it with health.
We are grateful to the Americans who have been helpful and to the founders like Tais Hua, who started this because they worried about the elders. We hope the young people see us and learn. If you are a patient person and a good person, you will live a long life without oppression. Our hair is white and our strength is not what it once was, but when we are at Tsev Kaj Siab, our hearts are bright. We are here to be role models, to weave our history into the present, and to show that even in a new country, an old heart can still find peace.