Dear Friend,
Before arriving in Beijing, I traveled to Guangdong with my mother for about a week. I primarily stayed within Kaiping, where both my parents are from and visited their ancestral villages. I met distant relatives that I do not remember meeting before and also visited my father’s businesses with the guide of my father’s friends/business partners. It was at the crux of my interactions with these two communities that left me feeling conflicted—with my distant cousin I ate cheap, delicious food from the street and strolled around Kaiping in a Chinese car while with my father’s friends, we ate at upscale restaurants and received massages. In short, I was not sure what it meant to be American nor what it meant to be Chinese. I know that being American gave me privilege—a privilege that I did not deserve and I knew that being Chinese gave me a secure box to fit into but a box I did not necessarily identify with either. These thoughts stayed with me as I started a new chapter as an international student at Beijing University—Beijing Da Xue.
Arriving in Beijing I suppose I’d have to say the first thing one would notice is the differences in driving habits of Beijingers versus Americans. The Chinese here do not necessarily obey lane lines and squeeze through tight corners a whole lot more often. The biggest differences for me, though, is that they do not yield for pedestrians and though to this day I still feel fluttered when a car honks at me to get out of the way, I suppose Guangdong, with its fewer people and thus fewer cars, has desensitized me to this. I have accepted it has part of the culture and it does make a whole lot of sense when I think of the larger scheme of things. The Chinese seem very flexible in their social relations and a whole lot more spontaneous. Even the government bargains—as with the fee for violating the One Child Policy. In the States, however, I feel that we are very strict about keeping to set rules and having a schedule. Therefore, it is not a surprise that we obey lane lines and yield for pedestrians. This one notion, of accepting behaviors that may appear strange as “culture” stayed with me throughout and my experiences on a scavenger hunt was an example of this.
After a few days of moving in and participating in orientation activities, I was paired up with Sarah Ting, a Shanghainese and Anglo-Saxon who goes to Swarthmore College. We took the subway closest to Beijing University to Tiananmen Square, where we explored the Square, the Forbidden City, and explored a close-by Hutong, or old-style alleyways with homes and shops before taking a taxi back on campus. I would have to say that I was not as overwhelmed as I expected. Though I was in Communist China and that Tiananmen was at the center of government power, there were also lots of Waiguo Ren (outsiders) touring the place along with Chinese. There were several signs with the Olympic slogan “One World One Dream” along with a large float celebrating the Paralympics, so as a semi-outsider, and as an American, I did not feel uncomfortable.
Before I digress, the Square is absolutely beautiful, despite the sea of tourist and street vendors. The architecture was just what I had expected—massive in size and bright in colors with a large scale portrait of Mao Zedong hanging like a monolith. Speaking of Mao, throughout my stay in China, Mao’s presence cannot be ignored—from the pictures printed on the Yuan to the portraits in shops and restaurants, Mao remains a strong symbol of nationalistic pride. Walking around and witnessing the sea of Chinese, the mix of the old with the new (Hutongs, street vendors and cars, high-rises), soldiers (both friendly and not), bottomless children (running around or taking a number-one with the guidance of their parent), I admit that I did feel proud for China. Before I left for China, I had dinner with my father where he had congratulated me because I am going to China, where his heart still remains, and of all places, Beijing, the Capitol that he himself have not visited.
Before leaving for China I had read that although China has the second largest economy in the world, it is also the third most unequal country according to the Gini Coefficient. In short, China has a very large divide between rich and poor. Just like visiting my extended family versus visiting my father’s friends, exploring the Tiananmen area, I easily stepped from a world of modernization and luxury to an older world that is not as dependent on new money and new technology. Having my lunch at the Hutong was an example of this. It is amazing and almost seems impossible, but amongst the high-rises, the cars, and the tourism of Tiananmen, Hutongs lay quietly throughout. Entering the Hutong was like entering a different world—the homes are small and quaint and the people are much simpler in dress and lifestyle. For example, middle-aged men played cards with one another while enjoying beers. Stray cats and dogs were found candidly everywhere.
Entering the small but busy restaurant where Sarah and I decided to have lunch, however, I realized that tourism doesn’t remain within the realm of Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Just when I told the shufu that we could not read the Chinese menu, he quickly took it away and gave us an English menu with much more expensive prices. It was four kuai for one bowl of mi fan whereas the original was only one kuai. I asked the shufu if the Chinese menu was as expensive as the English one. He then offered us the original prices. Overall, though, it was a fun experience and the shufu and another restaurant worker were a jolly pair delightful to have broken conversations with. Sarah ordered a vegetable dish for ten kuai while I ordered a spicy pork dish for 16 kuai. Plus the two bowls of mi fan it came out to be 28 kuai total. Before we left, we even posed in a picture with the workers.
During my earlier stay in Guangdong, I had an argument with my mother. I told her about how frustrated I was that I did not understand the Chinese language and blamed her for not teaching me. I said that she still speaks to me like a child and therefore my vocabulary and syntax is like that of a child. I told her that in America, I do not feel quite American and in China I do not quite feel Chinese. She told me to be more happy—in China, I should be less stressed. Later, she told me that when I am in Beijing, I should also be more happy. I feel that the mentality she wants me to achieve is that of a tourist.
Truthfully, I am not a tourist nor do I want to be. I cannot just pick and choose the part of Chinese culture and society that I enjoy while leaving the rest of it behind because I am Chinese. However, because of my limitations due to growing up American, at times it is easier to separate myself from the crowd and stand behind that podium of American privilege. I am uncertain as to what to make of my experiences during the scavenger hunt but I can say is that I have a much more complicated view that most. In a sense I can see from the perspective of a Chinese, an American, a student and I am deeply looking forward to what is to come, whether it be more evidence of the class divide like Tiananmen and the Hutong or differences in cultures like car-driving and the people, or a multiplicity of traditions.
