Tomb Sweeping

Today is Tomb Sweeping Day, a national holiday, we go to sweep the tomb of my dad's grandmother. It's no easy task. She was buried without a tombstone and nowhere near a cemetery. The only recollection my dad has of her burial ground is that it is next to a railway track outside of Gaoliying, a village under an hour’s drive from central Beijing.

But it may as well have been any village in the country’s undeveloped interior instead of the developed coast. Faces are sun burnt and wind blown. Men kick the dust with their synthetic shoes while twirling grass between their teeth. Youngsters whistle pop tunes while watching passing girls dressed in imitation designer jeans. Young mothers watch their babies play amongst thick dust and exhaust smoke. Matronly shopkeepers count change behind shelves of ramen, candy, and other past expiration date, non-perishable foods. Old men chat and smoke in heavy blue overalls dating to the communist era. Looking down at my T-shirt, I am reminded that heating in their homes is not central; they salvage their own wood or coal.

Like all country sides, Beijing's is all things to all people. Existing alongside are subtle charm and blatant poverty, green fields and brown sewage, four-star resorts and one-roomed huts, open skies and closed roads, where dirt paths rarely lead into city roads.

It takes numerous detours before we find that railroad track. Gaoliying, like the rest of China, has bloated in the last 20 years to beyond recognition.

“There it is: the circle of stones I made as a marker all those years ago. I can’t believe we found it.” My dad says softly.

It is a restful place. The sun makes a warm spot of it, nestled amongst peach blossoms in full bloom this time of the year, broken out of its tranquility by the occasional passing train. My dad pours baijiu on that circle of stones. The sweet fragrance of the 56% alcohol hits my nose and I cry.

My great-grandmother’s image immerges before my eyes. Tolstoy's Anna was born out of a friend, Kundera's Agnes out of a gesture, Laolao was born out of my dad's stories. She was a shy young bride, given as a concubine to a husband with daughters her age. Not coming from a wealthy family, becoming a small landlord’s concubine, i.e. a titled servant, was among the better options. She still had to work day and night, but it was mostly in the house instead in the house and on the farm. When she settled in the routine of serving her husband and children, as all women settled then, the Cultural Revolution came. She was publicly humiliated and chastised as a landlord’s wife though she had little more choice than a chair does in belonging to a man. They were both property. Her grandson watched helplessly as a crowd of people enclosed her, taunted her, and threw things at her. She survived, but parts of her died. In her old age, she moved from east to west China to live with her daughters’ families. In a foreign environment, she raised all her grandchildren. It was a life endured in silence; one spent taking care of others but not oneself. I cry not for her death, but for the life denied her.

I cry for the farmers and migrant workers in Gaolinying, for the lives they will never know. Beijing is an hour away, but it may as well be several life times. I cry for my illiterate grandmother. For her, every outing is composed of indescribable insecurities and fears. All the world’s a stage, and she's never a player. 

“Life is like this.” My dad breaks into my tears. “You never figure out its meaning. Once you do, it’s all over. To live is to seek, to be free to seek.”

I don’t quite comprehend his meaning, but I’m okay with that for now. I’ll seek it out by and by.

The alcohol evaporates, along with my tears. I place another stone in the circle and pray that my great-grandmother knows how loved she is by her children and children's children. The sun sets. I put my arm in my dad’s and we walk away amidst the peach blossoms.

Chinese New Year

My last posts have portrayed Beijing as sexist and racist, but Laura pointed out that those qualities are in the States as well. I certainly agree that prejudices exist everywhere, and the difference is to what degree they are blatant and widely accepted in a society. Below is a conversation with my family that I'm sure is echoed in all families to some extent.

Background information:

Chinese females my age or older are raised as asexual beings throughout their school years. Hormones, puberty do not exist in the realm of conversation. But as soon as she finishes college, she is expected be on the active lookout for potential husbands. She is to have a drive so strong that she feels a need to be married in a couple years. Everything done on schedule.

Charlene: Happy New Year Grandma!

Grandma: Happy New Year! You are here so late.

Charlene: Grandpa told me to come at 6.

Grandma: Oh, don't you listen to him. Do you have a boyfriend yet?

Younger Aunt: Oh Mom, you think Charlene is going to tell you whether she has a boyfriend or not?

Older Aunt: We just want to prepare ourselves if she is going to bring home an American.

Grandma: I can't believe we are going to have Americans in the family.

Younger Aunt: Mom, Charlene is already an American. She doesn't even have a Chinese identity card anymore.

Grandma: She is still Chinese. She doesn't look American. Now Charlene, you need to be serious about your boyfriend situation. (there do not exist non-serious boyfriends) You are not young anymore and need to be thinking of your future. Your cousins can introduce you to people from their work. (My cousins are investment bankers in Beijing, so their coworkers would fit the criteria of good job, house, family in Beijing).

Younger Aunt: Oh Mom, leave her alone. Charlene can find her own boyfriends.

She calls this over her shoulder as she pulls me aside: "You know how your grandma is old-fashioned. You can tell me all about this boy: American or Chinese."

"African, auntie."

Eyes pop, jaw drops, "He is African American? Where did you meet?"

"We met in Africa. He is just African."

"Is he ... (swallows noticeably) black?"

"As ink."

"I've seen really black people. It's a bit scary because you wouldn't be able to see them in the dark if they don't smile!"

"Hmmm, I suppose if they weren't wearing any clothes...they would indeed be The Invisible Man."

Conversation with a Taxi Driver

"How did you get to this part of the city? A girl alone shouldn't be in this part of the city. It's all outsiders here (ie migrant workers). I's okay now that it's light, but don't come here alone at night. So are you studying or working now?"

"Studying."

"What year in university are you?" (I was glad he didn't ask if I were in university yet. With my round face, small stature, and high voice, I look young even for an Asian woman where I often get asked if I'm in university yet, when I'm in graduate school already! hff, hff :(

"I'm studying for my masters actually." (There is no equivalent of graduate school in Chinese. You say you are studying masters or doctorate. I don't mention the PhD as the general thinking and saying is: There are 3 kinds of people: males, females, female PhDs).

"Where do you study?"

"At the Beijing Forestry University." (You get very good at telling half-truths, quarter-truths even, when you are regularly asked to debrief your life upon first encounters.)

"The Financial Crisis is forcing a lot of graduates to continue school because they can't find jobs. Does this apply to you too?"

"I applied two years ago, so no."

"Then why did you go? I have a daughter about your age. I don't want her to continue studying. A girl shouldn't be too educated. My daughter graduated from college in 07, married in 08, had a baby in 09. Everything was done on schedule." (Yes, he actually said "on schedule")

"Wonderful news on the grandchild. I graduated in 07. Was your daughter born in the year of the rat?"

"Yes."

"We are the same age then."

"That's why I'm talking to you like a father. How is your individual situation?" (ie are you in a serious relationship and about to be married.)

"Well, studies take a lot of time and energy."

"See, this is why women shouldn't study too much. You know the old saying: 'An unskilled woman is a virtuous one.' (Yeah, it's 1000 years old. And without skill can also be translated as without intelligence here, so you can also say: A stupid woman.)

Your individual situation is extremely important. You need to make time and energy for it. A woman's most important asset is by no means her degree. You ask any man, he would rather marry a high school graduate than a masters graduate."

"Then maybe they don't have enough confidence in their manhood."

"Ha, how many men have that confidence. You can't find one in a hundred."

"I have to pick the one in a thousand then. China has enough men if nothing else."

"But that one will not be picked by you if you are past 30. A woman's youth is extremely important. A man will always pick young women.

By the way, raising a young woman is like raising a tiger. It's fraught with danger. You always worry about her situation:

when she is young (ie need to make sure to know where she is at all times if you do let her out so she doesn't get pregnant)

and when she is of age. (ie keeping her away from poor suitors: ones not from the big cities because even if they have made their own way in the big city, they have poor families back home who will be parasites on our family from the capital city. A good suitor is one who has a job, house, parents in Beijing. Grandparents are better to make sure there are no poor extended relations either.)

It is much more worrisome than raising a boy. (ie they don't get pregnant)

"You must be worry-free now that her work and family life are all settled."

"Yes, we are very pleased that we have avoided all the pitfalls. Remember, you are not getting any younger. Now, more than anything, your parents worry about your individual situation. What year was your dad born."

"That of the sheep."

"I'm born in that of the horse, so I'm one year older. Yes, I'm sure he is very worried about your individual situation. (actually, my dad wants me to stay away from all men and is very worried that I don't have a high enough degree.) Ah, we are here, be sure to put your wallet out of sight before you get out of the car. Be careful, don't go wondering by yourself at night. Actually, better not to go out at night at all."

It is frightening when blatant sexism is internalized by the arbitrator (dad) and victim (daughter). It simply does not occur to the sexist and agist dad that his daughter or I can have any idea on what is good for us. What could I have said to change that mindframe? How do women not let sexism influence us -where we set sexist expectations as either something to live up to or to dismantle- while taking into consideration the different needs, desires, tastes between each woman?

Follow up on Previous Post

Here is a clarification/followup of what I was trying to say in the previous post in answer to its comments.

Hi Bill,

Thanks for calling me out on the subtle distinction in my argument that apparently I did not make very well. I was not critiquing people who live ostentatiously. I critiqued those who live ostentatious AND sprout how it is good for other people: hypocrites. I argued that we should not try to fool ourselves or others when it comes to why we live the way we do. I was annoyed with people who do something because they enjoy it, then try to justify that action by saying how it is good for those around them or society in general. I believe being honest with ourselves: aware of why we do what we do is a first step towards inflicting less harm in the world through insisted ignorance.


Addressing your points:
I agree an equal society is not possible. But as an aside, many believe that a society where opportunities and the value of a life are more or less equal is one worth fighting for. My friend Laura says: "I believe that everyone deserves a life where they can control the decisions and processes that determine their fate. A just society is a society where this holds true for all citizens." http://democraciaurbana.blogspot.com/

I do not judge people's hearts. I am judging their actions and how they impact others. I believe thinking analytically of the world around you is a citizen's duty: to determine what you like and dislike about the society you live in. Only with that as a starting point, can you begin to discuss change (in or outside yourself) in a substantial manner. This is not just for the activists. Everyone wants to keep improving herself, to live a life that she deems worth living. For example, you chose to take courses online when you could have chosen the much easier option of not taking them.

As to buying a new car in Xining:
First, you are not the hypocrite I was criticizing above where you say you are in Xining because you are doing good for Tibetans there. Second, the example I gave of ostentation was the 3 story house with 3 maids for 3 people in Beijing. I am careful not to say this is extravagance and that is not, but I don’t think that you having a car is extravagant if you and Amy decided it is much easier than hailing a cab with 3 kids every time. Buses in Xining are excruciatingly slow and difficult to ride not knowing Chinese. Now if you have a Hummer, I believe you should pay all of us for the over-the-top carbon you release and fuel you use.

Lastly, I do not believe we should feel guilty for being born in a better set of conditions than others. That guilt serves no one. But we should be aware that those conditions were not ones we earned, so we should not feel that we have a right to live better than those who were not so lucky. Whether we decide to give to those worse off is what most ethicists say is an obligation. I am more practical and believe it is a choice we make, but we need to be honest with ourselves regarding why we chose what we did.

Thanks for the comment!
Charlene

Bexley Houses in Beijing

I had a meeting in a Beijing suburban house with 3 stories and 3 maids. It was a Bexley house airlifted to Beijing. It was the house of a couple of expats with cushy sofas and wine books littering the den. I was very agitated as I recounted the house to a friend. Being a reasonable person, he asked why I was so agitated.

I stammered out a response on how I lived in similar houses in Peru (as a guest). In them, I saw the house divided into that of foreign masters and native servants, which easily led to “us” vs. “them” language:

“You need to be firm with them because they do not have the work ethic that makes us Americans self-making men and women.”

“They don’t appreciate what we do for them.”

This attitude that began at the household level moves at frightening speed towards a national level of seeing other service workers (and sometimes other natives) through a sloppy servant’s lens.

On my way to the meeting, the taxi driver asked me if I were going to see a foreigner as that neighborhood is full of foreigners, the ones with cars as that area is out of range of subway stops. The neighborhood is its own national, socio-economic, racial enclave in a new country. But isn’t the point of living abroad to immerse yourself in a new place, tongue, worldview? Those who proclaim themselves world-travelers, are implying that they are public diplomats –furthering an exchange between peoples and goods– that theirs is a noble cause. But a house divided does not allow for genuine exchange between cultures.

For enclave, live-in-maid lifestyles, I have heard the following explanations:

“It is a major benefit to be able to move around easily in English-speaking areas of the city.”

Have you considered living in an English speaking country?

“Purchasing power here is more than in my home developed country.”

Then do not try to claim you are doing people here a favor.

“I’m giving jobs to locals by employing maids and employees.”

Seen through another lens, you are also taking the job of a national.

Also, don’t view yourself as a nobleman furthering cultural exchange.

In the Wealth of Nations, Smith said that it was not the altruistic, but the self interests of the butcher, the carpenter, the shop keeper who provided others with meat, furniture, goods. So don’t try to make any claims on nobility.

These claims on the good that you are doing for the Chinese economy also blind you to the ills you are doing to the Chinese psyche. Living in such an ostentatious manner in a foreign country, you are reinforcing the idea that white=superior and wealth=foreignness, contributing to the internalized racism at which China is an expert.

The taxi driver said knowingly: “Foreigners are the ones with the money to live in an area of bungalows and cars.” Your lifestyles scream to the natives: “Look at us. Don’t you wish you can be us?” And you cannot hide behind the argument that it is not your fault people look at you with envy. You have a responsibility for how your actions are received, foreign or not.

To give you a concrete example, why do we call big businesses “heartless bastards who only care about their bottom line” when they close down factories in southern Illinois to move to Southeast Asia where labor and lives are cheap? It is because they don’t give a shit about how their actions impact others. Well, you do the same when you fail/refuse to see how your lifestyles impact the psyche/wellbeing of those around you.

Now if those houses remained in Bexley, would the owners still be as guilty of viewing the States through a divided lens, justifying their consumption as improving the economy, and furthering internalized racism? I say yes. Are they guilty to the same degree? What are the direct impacts of their lifestyles on those in inner city Columbus or blue collar Grove City? I am embarrassingly unaware of the lives that blacks and Latinos, inner city dwellers lead in the States. Living in Grove City for 5 years, I would say residents there are not as impacted by their countrymen’s extravagance as the Chinese are of foreigners’. Perhaps being of the same nationality matters. Perhaps the Chinese have more experience on internalized racism.

Regardless, while those who look up to you are also responsible for how they view you, it does not absolve you of responsibility for how you live.

Fruit Lingo

Lingo that I've been taught:

Banana: Yellow on the outside. White on the inside.

Asian Americans.

Coconut: Brown on the outside. White on the inside.

Indian Americans.

Lychee: Brown on the outside. You try to be white, but you are really brown at the core.

Indian Americans who try too hard.

I aim to be a papaya:

Asian on the outside. Latin American/mestizo on the inside, with lots of African babies.

Things Americans say to Asian Americans in America

So as to not make Asians look like the only people capable of bigotry, I thought I’d spread the love around. Sorry, again, I should be more PC. Replace bigotry with: the lack of culture understanding that isolation brings.

Going to high school in white, white Ohio:

As one of two Asian kids in my high school (the other was a Korean girl adopted by white, Midwest parents, so I was the 'real' Asian), I got asked regularly: “Charlene, how do you think Asians feel about this issue?”

“Why don’t you tell me more about where you are from? I’ve always wanted to learn more about the Orient.”

At least Asia has physical boundaries…

“So do you, like, eat Chinese food at home? You know, I just love Wor Su Gai.”

I told him that I never heard of breaded and deep fried chicken until I came to the States.

I didn’t tell him that the bright yellow sauce reminds me of radioactive material.

“You are a very pretty Oriental girl. Now if you weren’t of another race, I’d really like to ask you out.”

Speechless.

“Speak some Chinese to me! It always sounded like pots slamming to me.”

That’s because you can’t even speak one language well.

“All Asian people look the same to me.”

To my grandmother, all white people look the same.

Eliz,

Growing up in New York and living in Orange County now, you may have forgotten how racially homogenous Ohio is. I hope not as we passed many good laughs over racial ignorance at OSU. But I maintain my humor in China as I do in Ohio because hearing racial comments more than once in my teenage years, what can I do but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all?

Love, Charlz

Things Asians say to Asian Americans in Asia

Looking for English teaching jobs:

“We are going to tell the parents that you are biracial and born in the State (while my friend does have fair skin, she definitely looks full-blooded Chinese). So will you dye your hair and eyebrows to a lighter color? You understand that the image of our summer camp is exposing kids to foreigners.”

“Mengly is too ethnic a name. Will you change it to Mimi instead? (seriously, have you heard of anyone named Mimi?).

“Yes, you graduated with two English related majors in three years, from Berkeley with a full scholarship. Yes, these teachers are Australian high school kids on their break year. Yes, they are the ones with the jobs.”

“This is ABOUT what we offer our foreign teachers. Yes, we know you grew up in the States, but how do you think parents would feel spending so much money just so their kids will see another pair of black eyes and black hair. After all, they just want to expose their children.”

I proceeded to ask her if the school paid higher salaries to blond haired, blue eyed, white teachers than to the brown haired, brown eyed, white teachers.

I didn’t get the job.

Walking on the street minding my own business:

“Miss, miss, come try our special offer on skin whitening products. You’d be so pretty if you were whiter.”

I stopped to tell him that I was actually on my way to a tanning salon, then I realized there is no such word in Chinese yet.

Translating for my white friend that the (male) driver said: “He is so white and good looking!” (Though my friend is an attractive guy, the driver definitely meant it as a causal relationship) At that point, we decided that on the deserted plains of west China: he -the tall, white guy– waving down passing cars would have better luck in hitching us a ride than I –the small, Chinese girl–.

When with white male friends, I get asked, “Are you the translator, tour guide, secretary?” I answer with a succession of no’s. They wait for me to elaborate my relationship. When the explanation doesn’t come, their faces silently tell me, “Ah, you are the mistress he keeps here.” I try to tell them silently: "Trust me, he can't afford me." But they can't hear my silence the way I'm used to hearing theirs.

While not exclusively so, these are prominent experiences of Chinese American kids going back to their homeland to learn about their roots. Mengly went back home to LA after half a year. She was not used to being discriminated against by her own race. Jen mostly surrounds herself with Western friends in Beijing as she doesn’t like the Chinese American -superior to Chinese, but inferior to American- box Chinese people put her in. Growing up in LA where Asian American is the majority race, these girls’ frustrations are understandable.

Maybe because I grew up in rural Ohio or because I just don’t possess these ladies' sass, I get less stoked by these racist commentaries. The arbitrators mean no malice, they are just stupid. Sorry, I should use a more PC term: ignorant.