2007年8月1日星期三
life in the fat lane.
Between the links popping up in everyone's profile and facebook pages (http%3A%2F%2Fnews.independent.co.uk%2Fhealth%2Farticle2814756.ece&sid=4068544874&pwstdfy=330b991111d89ff89b8dee376ee0a8e5) and fat is contagious study, and the terribly skew body fat curve here in China, I wanted to jot down my thoughts. I apologize to those looking for pretty pictures and funny stories (although there certainly are plenty of those in Beijing!) for being incredibly candid if not a little TMI in recent posts.
When I was in middle school, I read a book called, "Life in the Fat Lane" about a popular, pretty high school girl who suddenly develops a condition that makes her put on a lot of weight. While the book was panned critically (most harshly for the distinction it made between her "condition" and other obese people), it was an interesting read.
For most of my life, I've been blessed with a pixie-ish figure. Since I crossed that 100 threshold though, I can definitely not be considered "thin" per say but it's not all bad. Not unlike my namesake, Tinkerbell, I'm curve-ly minuscule and that seems acceptable enough.
On came the college weight (like my wisdom teeth that are just starting to peer in, my freshmen fifteen flub seems developmentally challenged as well, not coming in until my junior year! Thus it can't really be called the frosh fifteen). Still, I comfortably fit in to sizes between 0-3 so didn't feel particularly conscious of my weight before arriving in China.
My friend Edlyn from high school JSA arrived in Beijing this weekend. One of the (many) things we talked about was the pressure girls put on other girls. While guys may unintentionally say mean things at times, it is the sizing up by other girls that puts on the pressure to strive for perfection not just in achievements but also in appearance.
The reports on people viewing obesity as a sign of illness is preposterous! Weight is a socially derived heuristic. Years ago, Reuben's found beauty in the curvy figure and generations embraced it. The average dress size for a model in the United States and Europe has dropped in only the last 30 years from a reasonable size 6/8 to a 0. Pin-up girls Bette Davis and Marilyn Monroe were embraced (not despised) for their size 10+ frames. That's just in the Western world. In historical Asia, round faces with "chubby" cheeks looked well-fed. None of the current boniness that is prevalent today in HK.
Seeing as how perceptions on weight have shifted over the course of the years and what was once considered slim is now the average, the study's premise seems flawed. It provides an excuse for the stigma rather than examine where the stigma came from. Yes, people who react strongly to germs (I'm totally in this camp) will probably react strongly to other characteristics our societies show to be undesirable. For example, in China it's a terrible thing to be tan. Citizens tend to associate tanned skin with migrant works or farmers, thus a heuristic has developed that pale = cultured and refined = pretty. If posed the question, all else the same, would you prefer a tan person or a pale person, most Chinese would unquestionably select the latter. Does this indicate that tan = diseased? I think not.
The source of the confusion? Not because fat = disease but just because we're dramatic people.
When I was in middle school, I read a book called, "Life in the Fat Lane" about a popular, pretty high school girl who suddenly develops a condition that makes her put on a lot of weight. While the book was panned critically (most harshly for the distinction it made between her "condition" and other obese people), it was an interesting read.
For most of my life, I've been blessed with a pixie-ish figure. Since I crossed that 100 threshold though, I can definitely not be considered "thin" per say but it's not all bad. Not unlike my namesake, Tinkerbell, I'm curve-ly minuscule and that seems acceptable enough.
On came the college weight (like my wisdom teeth that are just starting to peer in, my freshmen fifteen flub seems developmentally challenged as well, not coming in until my junior year! Thus it can't really be called the frosh fifteen). Still, I comfortably fit in to sizes between 0-3 so didn't feel particularly conscious of my weight before arriving in China.
My friend Edlyn from high school JSA arrived in Beijing this weekend. One of the (many) things we talked about was the pressure girls put on other girls. While guys may unintentionally say mean things at times, it is the sizing up by other girls that puts on the pressure to strive for perfection not just in achievements but also in appearance.
The reports on people viewing obesity as a sign of illness is preposterous! Weight is a socially derived heuristic. Years ago, Reuben's found beauty in the curvy figure and generations embraced it. The average dress size for a model in the United States and Europe has dropped in only the last 30 years from a reasonable size 6/8 to a 0. Pin-up girls Bette Davis and Marilyn Monroe were embraced (not despised) for their size 10+ frames. That's just in the Western world. In historical Asia, round faces with "chubby" cheeks looked well-fed. None of the current boniness that is prevalent today in HK.
Seeing as how perceptions on weight have shifted over the course of the years and what was once considered slim is now the average, the study's premise seems flawed. It provides an excuse for the stigma rather than examine where the stigma came from. Yes, people who react strongly to germs (I'm totally in this camp) will probably react strongly to other characteristics our societies show to be undesirable. For example, in China it's a terrible thing to be tan. Citizens tend to associate tanned skin with migrant works or farmers, thus a heuristic has developed that pale = cultured and refined = pretty. If posed the question, all else the same, would you prefer a tan person or a pale person, most Chinese would unquestionably select the latter. Does this indicate that tan = diseased? I think not.
The source of the confusion? Not because fat = disease but just because we're dramatic people.
2007年7月17日星期二
closure
On my way home from work/shopping today, I saw a familar sight. Whiten, nearly bald hair ontop a round head with three neckfolds and large ears. Blue workman's shirt plus navy pants and those brown basket shoes. Geez, he even walked like him with the handswinging, small but steady steps. But this man was not my grandfather.
My grandfather was not a man without flaws. He chainsmoked and could be quite temperamental sometimes. But he loved his grandchildren fiercely and selflessly.
Maybe at his grave in Guangzhou I can find my much needed closure.
My grandfather was not a man without flaws. He chainsmoked and could be quite temperamental sometimes. But he loved his grandchildren fiercely and selflessly.
Maybe at his grave in Guangzhou I can find my much needed closure.
the Great Wall at SiMaTai - picture post
Climbed the Great Wall two weekend ago with Matt, a HBS student interning a startup here in Beijing and his friend Jodie. This is probably my singular favorite experience in Beijing this summer. The climb starts at ground level - 0 elevation and upward 2 km! Unlike simulated rock walls, there are no set paths and the view is spectacular! The best feeling is that you've really earned it. There are no guardrails as it is not as touristy of a section (probably not legally wise), which is exhilarating. Knowing that you are climbing and experiencing history as it was built rather than being led in a cushy ride or along a paved path is phenomenal. I really do other less popular sections as well
Because a picture is worth a thousand words:
Because a picture is worth a thousand words:
public transit
Short ode to public transit: Other than the very cultural nature of the city, Beijing's public transportation system may be my favorite thing about the city. Although when you're in a hurry nothing is more frustrating than waiting in congested traffic, the bus is a GREAT place to think while watching the changing and flurried landscape of Beijing go by. Plus, it's gotten me more familar with the layout of the city as bus routes tend to wind.
north vs. south
On the bus home today I found myself thinking about my stay in Beijing. Over the course of the last two months or so, I've become remarkably comfortable here. I actually find myself not only in comfortable enough to romp around the city by subway, bus and taxi (the last is actually remarkably challenging cuz you have to explain where you want to go and what route you want to take to get there) BUT also content in romping the city's many corners. Beijing has SO many musuems! If you know me at all, you know I love being able to explore musuems and galleries.
But it's not so simple. It was definitely a big adjustment. For the first two/three weeks, I was pretty unhappy with feeling like an outsider. Aside from the frequent repeating I had to do as people didn't understand my accent, I think just a general feeling of being neither here nor there often hit me.
My memory works in the most bizarre ways sometimes.
As I sat high up uptop the foremost tire, my mind flashed back to a scene from two years ago to another high view of black asphalt behind flat bus glass. Two years ago, I was in HK with my parents heading back to our hotel. Our relatives there advised us to take the double-decker bus (1) because I was so intrigued by it and (2) because from a seat on the upper deck, we could get a great view of the HK skyline (something else I adore!). From our seats in the upper deck, we overheard quite a clamor from below.
A group of 8 Mandarin-speaking, obviously mainlander tourists climbed on and proceeded to make a scene. You see, in traveling to HK, not one of them spoke Cantonese (having been told that Mandarin and English was enough to get by on. . . they don't call it "pu-tong-hua" for nothing). First attempting Mandarin, they received responses in Cantonese. Pushing forward, the travellers tried their luck with English, waving hands frantically while leaning against their luggage. Since, supposedly, all HK people speak English. Unfortunately, the English of the ticket agent and the travellers was mutually halting at best and one visitor finally gave Cantonese-accented Mandarin a shot. You know, the kind where you don't really speak the language but just try to add enough accents to sound like you do. The Chinese equivalent of adding a "la" or "los" to everything English word you say to turn it into Spanish.
Unfortunately, any Cantonese-speaking person will tell you that method will NOT get you through the numbers. They finally resorted to showing different HKD bills, settling how much their total fare should be and moved on into seats. At their moving backs, the ticket agent muttered angrily, "bok lau to!" or, roughly translated, uncouth northern-heads/mandarin speakers!
This recollection brought me to a couple revelations.
(1) For all my complaining that Beijing-rs are rather prejudiced, there is not a actual WORD to describe southerns or outsiders. Leave it to Canto people to figure out a way to refer mockingly to an entire language population (lau to). While I do occasionally see the smirk (lian she) or get rude remarks from bus attendants, small shop owners, and attendants, at least BJ has not managed to institutionalize their prejudice into the lexicon.
(2) It's a little case of pot calling the kettle black. As humans, we're all a little territorial about others taking our spoils. It was explained to me that old old Beijing people (not refering to age but lineage), often feel that individuals from other provinces and foreigners have gained advantage from the city of their birthright. Instead of seeing these individuals' contribution to economic progress as mutually beneficial, there is a sentiment that if outsiders weren't so goshdarn competitive and pushy, those spoils would naturally belong to "natives." So, many times it's not the very high-ups in society that give attitude, it's the lower middle class who view outsiders as the scrapegoat for their material lacks. Notice the striking similarity with the immigrant situation in the US as well.
(3) Strangers have been incredibly kind to me here in Beijing. For this I am very thankful. From an elderly lady literally leading my friend and I to the subway station 2 blocks away to the nice bus operators who have been patient explaining where I should get off to the awesome college students who've taken the time to chat with me, I've encountered much help.
But it's not so simple. It was definitely a big adjustment. For the first two/three weeks, I was pretty unhappy with feeling like an outsider. Aside from the frequent repeating I had to do as people didn't understand my accent, I think just a general feeling of being neither here nor there often hit me.
My memory works in the most bizarre ways sometimes.
As I sat high up uptop the foremost tire, my mind flashed back to a scene from two years ago to another high view of black asphalt behind flat bus glass. Two years ago, I was in HK with my parents heading back to our hotel. Our relatives there advised us to take the double-decker bus (1) because I was so intrigued by it and (2) because from a seat on the upper deck, we could get a great view of the HK skyline (something else I adore!). From our seats in the upper deck, we overheard quite a clamor from below.
A group of 8 Mandarin-speaking, obviously mainlander tourists climbed on and proceeded to make a scene. You see, in traveling to HK, not one of them spoke Cantonese (having been told that Mandarin and English was enough to get by on. . . they don't call it "pu-tong-hua" for nothing). First attempting Mandarin, they received responses in Cantonese. Pushing forward, the travellers tried their luck with English, waving hands frantically while leaning against their luggage. Since, supposedly, all HK people speak English. Unfortunately, the English of the ticket agent and the travellers was mutually halting at best and one visitor finally gave Cantonese-accented Mandarin a shot. You know, the kind where you don't really speak the language but just try to add enough accents to sound like you do. The Chinese equivalent of adding a "la" or "los" to everything English word you say to turn it into Spanish.
Unfortunately, any Cantonese-speaking person will tell you that method will NOT get you through the numbers. They finally resorted to showing different HKD bills, settling how much their total fare should be and moved on into seats. At their moving backs, the ticket agent muttered angrily, "bok lau to!" or, roughly translated, uncouth northern-heads/mandarin speakers!
This recollection brought me to a couple revelations.
(1) For all my complaining that Beijing-rs are rather prejudiced, there is not a actual WORD to describe southerns or outsiders. Leave it to Canto people to figure out a way to refer mockingly to an entire language population (lau to). While I do occasionally see the smirk (lian she) or get rude remarks from bus attendants, small shop owners, and attendants, at least BJ has not managed to institutionalize their prejudice into the lexicon.
(2) It's a little case of pot calling the kettle black. As humans, we're all a little territorial about others taking our spoils. It was explained to me that old old Beijing people (not refering to age but lineage), often feel that individuals from other provinces and foreigners have gained advantage from the city of their birthright. Instead of seeing these individuals' contribution to economic progress as mutually beneficial, there is a sentiment that if outsiders weren't so goshdarn competitive and pushy, those spoils would naturally belong to "natives." So, many times it's not the very high-ups in society that give attitude, it's the lower middle class who view outsiders as the scrapegoat for their material lacks. Notice the striking similarity with the immigrant situation in the US as well.
(3) Strangers have been incredibly kind to me here in Beijing. For this I am very thankful. From an elderly lady literally leading my friend and I to the subway station 2 blocks away to the nice bus operators who have been patient explaining where I should get off to the awesome college students who've taken the time to chat with me, I've encountered much help.
Chinese Painting Exhibit at the National Art Museum
I took a day to explore the National Art Musuem. I was both disappointed and excited to find that the current main exhibit is actually a collection on loan from the National Museum of Spain. Disapointed because I really wanted to see the best of the best in Chinese art. Excited because they actually have some pretty amazing paintings (A Young Man between Virtue and Vice, Fable, a couple Reubens, a de la Tour, etc etc). Unfortunately, they did not let us photograph those so there will be no pictures of that.
The first exhibit I looked at was a Traditional Chinese painting exhibit. Pretty cool stuff. (pictures to come when my internet isn't so slow)
The first exhibit I looked at was a Traditional Chinese painting exhibit. Pretty cool stuff. (pictures to come when my internet isn't so slow)
Yi He Yuan - Summer Palace
Outside the front entrance to the Palace
Below please find pictures from the first place I went sightseeing in Beijing - YiHeYuan, the emperor's summer place. I look horrible in a lot of this pictures, quite exhausted/adjusting/jetlagged at the time so please forgive the odd expressions and squinty eyes. Anyhow, Yi He Yuan is about 45 mins outside of Beijing and used to serve as the Emperor's Summer Palace. It's quite large and hilly but simply gorgeous.
In the Garden w/ YuanMeng, a student at Beijing Foreign Languages and Studies University. (They wrote my hs Chinese textbooks)
Outside a pagoda
The Bridge joining the island in the manmade lake with the shore.
Misty view of the shore from the peddleboat we rented to go onto the lake.
Detail on the inside of a pagoda. Can you believe that every painting that decorates the entire palace was handdrawn? 
Another view of the shore
Arch over the lake
Ornate inside of a pagoda
Minnie, another intern, and I in front of a famous mystical being (part deer, part dragon)
Next to the lake
With YuanMeng in front of a very famous lion
the hybrid identity/ A rose by any other name
Since I've been in Beijing this summer, I've given a lot of thought to what it means to have an identity and in that respect, what mine might be. Part of the reason is that Beijing is very different from places that I've been in Southern China which have been long exposed to both international influence and people from basically all over. For example, while interning in Shenzhen in the financial district, I barely got a side glance from anyone since on my way to work there'd be individuals of African descent, European descent and even Middle Eastern descent around me!
Beijing is different. For all of its claims to being an international city, Beijing is not without its pai wai (prejudices). Four instances stick out a lot in my mind:
1) Baidu speaker event - Cornell, Penn, Harvard, MIT alumni etc in attendance:
** interaction with local Chinese wait staff **
About the third week I was here, I got an invite to an alumni event featuring Robin Li, founder of Baidu.com at a rather trendy restrauant area in Chaoyang district called Block8. DO NOT GO TO THIS PLACE. EVER.
At the end of the speaker event, there was supposed to be a small dinner (2 courses). Unfortunately for the waiters, everyone was too busy mingling and networking to sit down for dinner. I ended up sitting at a table with two entrepreuners connected with my firm, a guy we had just met and a fellow intern.
As it was, I was sitting at the only table with all Chinese people. We were the first to sit down, and the first to order. The other tables didn't sit down until at least 20 mins after us but got served first. In fact, the table with the majority "white" diners got served first despite arriving sitting last. They waited a total of ten mins for their food. . . . we ended up waiting over an hour and half for our food. At one point, one of the entrepreuners got upset (both are active CEOs and time is money) and asked to speak to the manager. The manager, the waiter, and the hostess then explained to us slowly in Chinese (as if we were children) that our food was especially difficult to prepare and a long wait was typical. Not a bad explanation. Minus the fact there were only two options on the menu and we had ordered the exact same thing as everyone else.
Technically, we were all guests at the event, all paying 150 RMB for our dinner (not a small sum when the avg salary in Beijing is 2500 monthly), students of prestigious foreign universities, etc etc so what's with the discrepancy?
2) Climbing SiMaTai - a section of the Great Wall
**interaction with ex-pats**
Last weekend I went to the Great Wall with Matt, a HBS MBA student and fellow Beijing summer intern, and his friend Jodie (local). Along the climb, I noticed an interesting pattern. There is a very strong expat community here in Beijing and an atomsphere of quick bonding over shared backgrounds - college experience, etc. For those not familar with the term, expat refers to those with non-Chinese citizenships living in China. Everytime we passed someone foreign (European, American, Australian), they would stop to make friendly chitchat with Matt. In English. For the record, Matt is tall and has blonde hair. Each looked surprised when they heard me chime in with accentless English and none actively spoke English to me or gave me an extra glance when passing me along the way.
Perhaps you could say they were erring on the side of caution. I have no doubt that that's the case. However. I was wearing a t-shirt I had bought on Telegraph at Berkeley and black shorts (very Californian looking). And I ran into quite a few UC study abroad students who were, 80% Asian. Moreover, locals can always pick me out from my body language before I say a word and my Cantonese/English accent kicks in.
Heuristics? Maybe anyone who is Asian-looking and they do not know directly can be assumed not to speak English and not have much in common with them.
Nevertheless the feeling of belonging neither here nor there is very poignant.
3) "You blend in well."
**interaction with ABCs**
Last week, Jessica Lee (from Stanford) visited and paid me a great compliment. After watching me manuveur the city by bus and joking around with local students, she said: "You blend in well." On one hand, it's a great compliment to my ability to adapt and getting a little better at Chinese.
On the other hand, it's really not true. I'll work on my Chinese for the rest of my life, but I probably won't lose the English accent I've acquired from living in the US for so long. And there are some habits and body language that all "hai gui" (Sea turtles, or sea returnees, Chinese living abroad who have returned to China) have that I will never lose.
It did remind me that I don't really count as an ABC. First of all, I wasn't born in the United States and am not eligible to run for president. Second, I don't identify with it. I will always have two homes (wherever I reside at the time in the US and Guangzhou, China where I was born, all my relatives still are, and we've bought a flat). I've been told that, that kind of thinking makes me a little odd. Often when asked which place I like better - the US or China, I answer with, "I like different things about both."
Too fobby to be ABC, not fobby enough to be FOB.
4) Where is your father from? Where is your mother from?
Every time I'm in China, people find polite ways to ask me if I'm mixed. Apparently something about my facial features, hair and body make me look actually physically different, even compared with other Americanized Chinese. As one of my coworkers put it politely, Where is your father from? (Guangzhou) Where is your mother from? (Guangzhou). She quickly put two and two together to figure out I'm not. In fact, my documented family tree goes back some thirty generations on my mothers side and at least six on my fathers side as being fully Han Chinese.
Nevertheless, everyone asks. From the taxi driver to the girl washing my hair to my coworker to a local student I met to a guy trying to pick me up at the club, all see me as multiracial (or at least Chinese + another Asian ethnicity). I've actually had people full blown stare, whisper (I can speak Chinese. . . ), walk away, and then walk back and stare through a window.
I've been told it's a compliment. Mixed children are cute, and multiracial stars are all the rage (Maggie Q is ridiculously hot after all). Yet it's not my identity and thus not one I feel comfortable assuming or being assumed to be.
I spoke to my coworker, Shirley about these mixed and conflicting reactions in the cab ride back from visiting one of the startups we're doing due diligence on right now. She actually moved to the US from Taiwan when she was 10 and went to Stanford for undergrad. She nodded and said she felt the same way a lot of the time and has coined the phrase: hybrid identity to describe her take on her own identity.
Hybrid identity.
A rose is a rose because we recognize it to be one. If a tree falls in a forest and no living thing ever hears, nothing is ever affected, did it fall? People and events in isolation have no significance. The definition of a culture in socio-cultural anthropology is a shared set of history, ideologies and practices recognized by outsiders and with limits and criteria for membership placed by the insiders.
There is indeed a 1.5 generation of Chinese Americans, if small. If you need proof, just visit my former weekend Chinese school or the NYC Chinese beauty pageant website with featured bios of 12 ABC young women or Chinese Americans (depending on how you look at it). All contestants are born aboard, speak fluent Chinese and now go to American schools.
Thus, I cannot complain that my community is nonexistant. However, our experiences do differ depending on when we immigrated and to which area of the US. Therefore, we may not always recognize the other as our peer and this identity is a shaky one.
Beijing is different. For all of its claims to being an international city, Beijing is not without its pai wai (prejudices). Four instances stick out a lot in my mind:
1) Baidu speaker event - Cornell, Penn, Harvard, MIT alumni etc in attendance:
** interaction with local Chinese wait staff **
About the third week I was here, I got an invite to an alumni event featuring Robin Li, founder of Baidu.com at a rather trendy restrauant area in Chaoyang district called Block8. DO NOT GO TO THIS PLACE. EVER.
At the end of the speaker event, there was supposed to be a small dinner (2 courses). Unfortunately for the waiters, everyone was too busy mingling and networking to sit down for dinner. I ended up sitting at a table with two entrepreuners connected with my firm, a guy we had just met and a fellow intern.
As it was, I was sitting at the only table with all Chinese people. We were the first to sit down, and the first to order. The other tables didn't sit down until at least 20 mins after us but got served first. In fact, the table with the majority "white" diners got served first despite arriving sitting last. They waited a total of ten mins for their food. . . . we ended up waiting over an hour and half for our food. At one point, one of the entrepreuners got upset (both are active CEOs and time is money) and asked to speak to the manager. The manager, the waiter, and the hostess then explained to us slowly in Chinese (as if we were children) that our food was especially difficult to prepare and a long wait was typical. Not a bad explanation. Minus the fact there were only two options on the menu and we had ordered the exact same thing as everyone else.
Technically, we were all guests at the event, all paying 150 RMB for our dinner (not a small sum when the avg salary in Beijing is 2500 monthly), students of prestigious foreign universities, etc etc so what's with the discrepancy?
2) Climbing SiMaTai - a section of the Great Wall
**interaction with ex-pats**
Last weekend I went to the Great Wall with Matt, a HBS MBA student and fellow Beijing summer intern, and his friend Jodie (local). Along the climb, I noticed an interesting pattern. There is a very strong expat community here in Beijing and an atomsphere of quick bonding over shared backgrounds - college experience, etc. For those not familar with the term, expat refers to those with non-Chinese citizenships living in China. Everytime we passed someone foreign (European, American, Australian), they would stop to make friendly chitchat with Matt. In English. For the record, Matt is tall and has blonde hair. Each looked surprised when they heard me chime in with accentless English and none actively spoke English to me or gave me an extra glance when passing me along the way.
Perhaps you could say they were erring on the side of caution. I have no doubt that that's the case. However. I was wearing a t-shirt I had bought on Telegraph at Berkeley and black shorts (very Californian looking). And I ran into quite a few UC study abroad students who were, 80% Asian. Moreover, locals can always pick me out from my body language before I say a word and my Cantonese/English accent kicks in.
Heuristics? Maybe anyone who is Asian-looking and they do not know directly can be assumed not to speak English and not have much in common with them.
Nevertheless the feeling of belonging neither here nor there is very poignant.
3) "You blend in well."
**interaction with ABCs**
Last week, Jessica Lee (from Stanford) visited and paid me a great compliment. After watching me manuveur the city by bus and joking around with local students, she said: "You blend in well." On one hand, it's a great compliment to my ability to adapt and getting a little better at Chinese.
On the other hand, it's really not true. I'll work on my Chinese for the rest of my life, but I probably won't lose the English accent I've acquired from living in the US for so long. And there are some habits and body language that all "hai gui" (Sea turtles, or sea returnees, Chinese living abroad who have returned to China) have that I will never lose.
It did remind me that I don't really count as an ABC. First of all, I wasn't born in the United States and am not eligible to run for president. Second, I don't identify with it. I will always have two homes (wherever I reside at the time in the US and Guangzhou, China where I was born, all my relatives still are, and we've bought a flat). I've been told that, that kind of thinking makes me a little odd. Often when asked which place I like better - the US or China, I answer with, "I like different things about both."
Too fobby to be ABC, not fobby enough to be FOB.
4) Where is your father from? Where is your mother from?
Every time I'm in China, people find polite ways to ask me if I'm mixed. Apparently something about my facial features, hair and body make me look actually physically different, even compared with other Americanized Chinese. As one of my coworkers put it politely, Where is your father from? (Guangzhou) Where is your mother from? (Guangzhou). She quickly put two and two together to figure out I'm not. In fact, my documented family tree goes back some thirty generations on my mothers side and at least six on my fathers side as being fully Han Chinese.
Nevertheless, everyone asks. From the taxi driver to the girl washing my hair to my coworker to a local student I met to a guy trying to pick me up at the club, all see me as multiracial (or at least Chinese + another Asian ethnicity). I've actually had people full blown stare, whisper (I can speak Chinese. . . ), walk away, and then walk back and stare through a window.
I've been told it's a compliment. Mixed children are cute, and multiracial stars are all the rage (Maggie Q is ridiculously hot after all). Yet it's not my identity and thus not one I feel comfortable assuming or being assumed to be.
I spoke to my coworker, Shirley about these mixed and conflicting reactions in the cab ride back from visiting one of the startups we're doing due diligence on right now. She actually moved to the US from Taiwan when she was 10 and went to Stanford for undergrad. She nodded and said she felt the same way a lot of the time and has coined the phrase: hybrid identity to describe her take on her own identity.
Hybrid identity.
A rose is a rose because we recognize it to be one. If a tree falls in a forest and no living thing ever hears, nothing is ever affected, did it fall? People and events in isolation have no significance. The definition of a culture in socio-cultural anthropology is a shared set of history, ideologies and practices recognized by outsiders and with limits and criteria for membership placed by the insiders.
There is indeed a 1.5 generation of Chinese Americans, if small. If you need proof, just visit my former weekend Chinese school or the NYC Chinese beauty pageant website with featured bios of 12 ABC young women or Chinese Americans (depending on how you look at it). All contestants are born aboard, speak fluent Chinese and now go to American schools.
Thus, I cannot complain that my community is nonexistant. However, our experiences do differ depending on when we immigrated and to which area of the US. Therefore, we may not always recognize the other as our peer and this identity is a shaky one.
unstuck in time
(photo of a picture I saw at the Chinese National Art Musuem)
The next few posts in this blog will likely read like a Kurt Vonnegut novel. While I am not Billy Pilgrim and this is not Slaughterhouse Five, I'm afraid that I did not keep good track of all my funny, odd, power, and random thoughts during my first month or so in here in Beijing. Recently I became inspired by Molly (who since her arrival in Germany as quite literally document everything including the purchase of a muffin!) to keep track of my happenings in a blog as well.
Over the next week or so, I'll record random moments from my summer thusfar in Beijing. They've become unstuck (I'm afraid I have no idea chronologically exactly how things happened or even how accurate my descriptions might be) but the memories are still poignant so I choose to write them anyway. It is for my record as much as your amusement.
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