Cloudy in Beijing Blogging about my time in China

Being Chinese-American, or American-Chinese

I came to China hoping to improve my Mandarin skills and learn more about cultural heritage. Though I was born and raised in America, I am still Chinese.

So a few months ago, a friend back in the states said to me: "Hey, you've been in China for a while now, I bet you've become really Chinese now."

It's true I've been learning a lot and my Mandarin has never been better, but I've been thinking about what my friend said. Ironically, in a lot ways I feel like I haven't become more Chinese at all, but rather more American instead.

Part of the reason is probably because of my job. As an English language teacher, I rarely speak Chinese in my classes, and I often find myself explaining different facets to America. And with the Internet I still remain immersed with the pop culture and current events back home, reading the national presses whenever I can, and watching episodes of The Office and The Daily Show, on a weekly basis.

Another reason may be because of how I'm viewed here. As a Chinese-American, one think I might be able to blend in better. But this is only sometimes true. Though their intentions are good, Local Chinese have a penchant of saying an almost mockingly sarcastic "Hello!" whenever they see a foreigner, which is then followed by a churlish giggle. Thankfully, I have been free from that.

But I still draw inquisitive looks now and then, and somehow they can tell I am not one of them. "Give this to the foreigner," I remember one restaurant server saying as she pointed to me. Though I am Chinese by blood, many people here don't think I look Chinese. (I've gotten this before, even in the States). Often I'm mistaken for being Korean or Japanese. People say its because of my"high-nose." I have no idea. But it only adds to my feeling of separation from the native Chinese people here.

No, I am not a true Chinese. And yet I'm glad that is so; often I think to myself I was lucky that I was born and raised in the U.S. , and not instead in China.

I love certain facets of Xi'an: the food is great, things are cheap, people are extremely nice, and life is so much more relaxed. But there are things that make me cringe, and others I abhor. Often, I shake my head whenever I look at the inadequacies of the education system; how so much seems to be focused on test-taking, and so little on critical thinking. I hate how free-speech can so easily be squelched here, and I remain irritated as hell that the government continues to block access to Youtube. And even as China is modernizing, most of the population still lives in relative poverty.

Everyday I can see these differences. By just thinking about them, its so easy to feel thankful that there is that invisible separation between me and the local populace here. So I guess its natural that whenever I introduce to someone new, I will always first say: "I'm American," and then add, "But my parents were from Taiwan, so I'm Chinese too."

It is funny though, that I refer to America as home, and not China. Once I was asked where my hometown was by a local here and I replied Oregon. She then mumbled to one of her friends nearby, that she was surprised with my response. "I thought he would say his original home is China," she remarked.

Part of me will always remain rooted in America. And I have no yearning to become a genuine Chinese person.

Today I went to my Chinese language tutor, but I got there ahead of time. So I had to wait a while. But as I sat there, I paid attention to another student my tutor was instructing at the time. He was a white person. And while practicing his Mandarin, I noticed how excited he got when he used common Chinese phrases like "Aiya!", an expression of displeasure, and
"Haodehen!", which means very good. He spoke them as if he was trying to genuinly speak like a typical Chinese person.

It's ironic that I've tried to stay away from such expressions. I hardly ever say "Aiya!" perhaps because I think its old-fashioned and lame. There are some Chinese curse words I know, but I rather just say "Shit" or "Fuck"; the words strangely have a unique beauty to them, although there are quite a few interesting Mandarin swear words. Maybe its because the ones I know tend to revolve around the word "egg."

But as I watched this student practice his language skills it occured to me how lucky I am to also be Chinese. For some foreigners learning Chinese is especially difficult. But since I was a little boy I've been learning Mandarin, trying to master it. Now I'm here in China, and I feel like I'm close as ever to reaching my goal. All the while I can easily converse with anyone I want to, and order food without having to point simply point at a menu. I know all the popular Chinese movies, I can read the local papers, I can sing Chinese songs at the Karaoke joints, and I can actually approach deeper friendships with the locals here, beyond just talking about the simplest topics like the weather or where I'm from.

So it's good to be Chinese too. I'm glad I didn't shut off that side to me when I was growing up. Instead, I tried to embrace it when I could, albeit frustratingly and with a sigh at times.

Things like cultural identity can always be complicated if you want them to be. But I don't think its big deal. Maybe I'm in limbo. Or maybe I have the best of both worlds, as one friend put it. No doubt for me, it's the latter.