Chinese is not a terribly translatable language because it is so closely tied to Chinese culture, which is equally foreign to westerners. The Chinese equivalent of homesick, 想家, literally means “want home” or “think about home,” two English phrases that are virtually identical in Chinese culture. In English, however, to want or think about home is very different than homesickness. Being homesick, for me, means I can’t reconcile the differences between the new and the old and that I yearn for the easier existence of living squarely in my comfort zone. To think about home is just simply to think about home.
Today is July 4th, the sort-of birthday of the USA, the day of fireworks and of bad parades, and my favorite holiday.
In Chicago, we gather Lake Michigan to watch Chinese fireworks while sitting on Chinese-made towels and buy our kids (well, not my kids, not yet) glow sticks and light-up toys that are all made in China. We wear Chinese made clothing and shoes, and take pictures with Chinese-manufactured cameras while somebody blasts American composed music through Chinese made speakers. We might even decorate our tables with red, white and blue flowers, all of which were grown and harvested in China.
If Independence Day is so firmly rooted in Chinese culture, then celebrating it overseas should be easy. I think.
Yesterday, I went to Union Bar and Grille in the Foreigner district of 三里屯 to have a little bit of an early celebration. I ordered Dutch beer in Chinese, ate French fries, and chatted about European soccer clubs with a Brit. Half-way through the meal he said, “Oh! Happy early Independence Day; we can order some apple pie to celebrate.”
The burger pictures in the menu had a little paper American Flag sticking out and were made in true American fashion with 100% grain fed beef, something that we Americans probably shouldn’t be so desperate to eat. We finished eating and walked to a British owned American-style “book shop and coffee bar.” This didn’t feel all that American to me. I walked home past the largest screen in the world at 110 meters long (designed to be just larger than the one in Las Vegas) and thought about how even though I’ve never even been to Vegas, nor do I really want to go, I’m still a little peeved that we were one-upped.
Last night while raising half-liter glasses of Chinese beer brewed in the style of German lagers, we toasted to America-driven globalism.
Even with the revelry and the celebrations, today is missing something, and even though I might talk about American values and listen to American music with other Americans, we’re not in America. No number of ex-pats, bars, or little paper flags can make me feel at home. Even listening to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s version of Battle Hymn of the Republic on loop, the most American performance of a song I can imagine, will not transport me home for just a day.
When hostel Germans scowl at my nationality and fanatic football fans glare at me, I know why. Americans make mistakes: we’re often arrogant, ignorant, and hot-blooded. But what makes July 4th my favorite day of the year has nothing to do with Americans, only with America. In general, people are just people. Beneath the layers of culture, manner, and language, the Chinese and the Americans are the same. For me, I’m just thankful that I have what I have. July 4th is more thanksgiving than the November feast because everything that I have can be traced to one main event, my family’s immigration into the USA. Even when the government is lousy and there are online clips of “typical” Americans displaying their ignorance to the world, American values stand. The truths that we hold to be self-evident are still truths and because of Thomas Jefferson’s powerful sentence, I’m in China, I’m at Yale, and I’m alive.
So what’s a patriot to do? I’m not homesick; Beijing is still exciting. It holds so much opportunity to explore and learn that I’m too distracted to be too sad, but I am thinking about home. I do want home. I want to watch the Chinese fireworks over Lake Michigan, I want to eat American flag cake, and most of all I want to listen to the Aaron Copeland marathon on WFMT.
And thanks to the Internet, I can at least to do the last one.
Happy 4th. Eat an extra piece of cake for me.
Adam, I've been reading your blog for a while now and definitely have been meaning to comment a long time before this. First of all, I'm very jealous because my summer is much less worldly than yours, but also really excited that college gives you these kinds of travel opportunities! China sounds like a blast, and will always hold a special place in my heart of course ... are you fluent in Chinese by now? Because when you return I will test you, and I expect fluency - along with thrilling stories about public transit (the subway sounds completely insane). This post is my favorite. I like your definition of homesickness, and the uncertainty that comes with leaving behind something you know, whether it's your house or your school or your country or your flag cake (which I've never tried - am I missing out on something wonderful?). On the other hand, by the time you're 80, most of your 4th of July celebrations over the years will have started to blend together in retrospect - and your multicultural, kind of weird 4th of July in China is something you always can look back on. I hope you're still having an amazing time.
ReplyDeleteP.S. Obama/Spiderman inauguration-saving power couple in comic form? Definitely a thoughtful present for any kindly Chinese women you meet. Good job gift shopping!