Kangaroo Dreams
the memoir I never thought I’d write in English is here.
Forty-five years ago, a 20s-year-old man who spoke almost no English stepped off a plane in Sydney wearing the only shirt he was donated, zero dollars in his pocket, and one completely absurd dream: “I just want to see a kangaroo one day.”
That man was me.
Today that same man (now with a lot more wrinkles, a lot less hair, and many publications) is holding the English edition of his memoir Kangaroo Dreams, and I still get goosebumps thinking about it.
This book is the story I never imagined I’d be able to tell in English.
It begins in the green pasture of the Vietnam’s Mekong Delta: barefoot childhood, water buffaloes, rice fields, and bomb craters. Then came April 1975, the fall of the Republic of Vietnam, years of hardship, my family scattered, and finally the night in 1981 when we made the daring decision: escape or slowly disappear.
Twenty-five of us crowded onto a small fishing boat built for half that number. We were robbed by pirates, almost died of thirst, and somehow drifted to Thailand. The refugee camps were harsh, but one day an Australian delegation came through. When they asked where I wanted to go, I said, “Australia… because I’ve never seen a kangaroo.”
They laughed wildly. A few months later, I was on that plane, wearing donated clothes and carrying nothing of my own.
What happened next still feels like a fairy tale I’m not allowed to be the main character of: washing dishes in St Vincent’s Hospital kitchen, studying English at night, scholarships, fellowships, doctorates, and decades later walking back into that same hospital, this time as a professor leading a research team that helps millions of people with osteoporosis.
Fast-forward to 26/1/2022: exactly 40 years after landing in Australia with literally nothing, I received the Order of Australia! The man who just wanted to see a kangaroo got the country’s highest civilian honour instead.
Sometimes the universe really does have a sense of poetry.
Kangaroo Dreams isn’t a misery memoir. It’s a love letter, to the strangers who handed me a a second-hand shirt and trouser, to the country that said yes when so many others said no, and to that stubborn 20s-year-old who refused to let go of a ridiculous dream about a hopping animal.
Forty-five years ago you welcomed a stranger with zero dollars and one impossible hope; today I am proud to call you home. Australia, from the bottom of my heart – thank you for my life.
If you’ve ever started over with nothing…
If you’ve ever been told your dreams are too big…
If you’ve ever felt like an outsider who somehow, against all odds, found a home…
Then I wrote this book for you.
After many rejections from traditional and big-name publishers here in Australia, I decided to bring this story to the world myself—because some dreams, apparently, are too stubborn even for gatekeepers.
The English edition is out on Amazon and Barnes and Noble (paperback, hardcover, and Kindle). I told the story exactly the way I would tell it to you over coffee: no embellishments, plenty of tears, and a fair bit of laughter. Here’s the link:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Kangaroo-Dreams-Tuan-Van-Nguyen/dp/1965142613
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/kangaroo-dreams-tuan-van-nguyen/1148735998
If it moves you, please consider leaving a review or passing it on to someone who needs reminding that the most impossible journeys can begin with one shirt and a crazy hope.
From the bottom of my very full heart, thank you for letting me share this with you. The 26-year-old who arrived with nothing finally saw his kangaroo… and he’s still hopping.
With endless gratitude.