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The Joys of a Melting Pot 2: Surprisingly Chinese

I figure most of you know that I have a mixed cultural background. More often than not, it leads to hilarity when the two cultures mix. People just have different expectations when they come from different cultures, and watching the two collide has unintended consequences. Since these are generally my friends and family, no one is trying to be malicious. As a result, we all laugh about these things.

(Side note: I don't much care for the "proper" terms that denote having a Hispanic, Latino, or chicano heritage. People get really worked up about this stuff, and I frankly think it's silly. So, I made a conscious decision a long time ago to side step the whole thing by calling myself "brown." If you see the term below, that's what I'm referring to.)

Now, while I may be equally brown and Asian by blood (both my mother and my father are 100%, full-blooded members of their respective cultures), I probably identify more with the brown side. That's no knock on the Asian side, it's just that I've been exposed to it a bit more. I was born in Peru, for crying out loud. I grew up speaking Spanish at the dinner table. What did you expect was going to happen? Most people know this about me, and I have had more than one person refer to me as their "Peruvian friend."

Still, though, that doesn't mean I am completely illiterate when it comes to the other side. I still know a lot of the basics, and I can speak some halting Cantonese (surprisingly, I can also guess somewhat decently when other dialects or Mandarin is occasionally thrown my way). As I like to say, my last name is not just for show. Still, that's the part that people always seem to forget. And that's the part that leads to more comedy.

Within the last few months, I've had all of the following happen to me:
  • The Mild Ex's family forgot that I can usually understand just enough Cantonese to get the gist of what's being said. I sometimes laugh at something they said, and they look up in surprise. Yup, I did actually understood the joke. That usually is followed up with "oh wow, Sam understood that" in Cantonese, as well.
    • This is doubly funny because the phrasing for "he understood that" is very similar to the one of the few phrases of Cantonese that I can say almost flawlessly ("I don't speak, but I understand a little"). I visited my family in China earlier this year, and one of them even remarked that I spoke "excellent" Cantonese because I was able to say that one thing well. Oh, the irony.
  • Speaking of visiting family in China, they were flat out amazed that I was able to use chopsticks. Actually, they were surprised that any of us, other than my father, could use chopsticks. In fact, I later heard that prior to us eating out one night, they were privately concerned that we would be in trouble. Apparently that restaurant didn't cater to foreigners, so it didn't carry any forks or Western utensils on hand. Some of my aunts were concerned that we wouldn't be able to eat anything.
  • I have also seen the Mild Ex's family express genuine surprise that a) I would eat a fish head and b) I would do so without hurting myself. Remember, I am the same person who agreed to be a guinea pig for actual, legitimate moonshine. To say that I am willing to be adventurous with my diet is a bit of an understatement. Also, my family tends to have steamed fish on a regular basis. This is nothing new to me.

    For those of you who don't eat steamed fish, you generally steam the whole thing. You don't filet it first. That means that you have to deal with fish bones as you eat the meal. Generally speaking, it's a matter of being meticulous. You pry off pieces of fish meat around the spine, to minimize the number of bones that even make it on to your plate (don't flip the fish over, though; that's bad luck). In addition, you eat methodically, so that you don't flippantly swallow a stray fish bone here or there. It's not rocket science, but some of the Mild Ex's relatives were amazed that I was able to do this without prompting or instruction.
So yeah, I have come to realize that for actual, hardcore, dyed in the wool Asian people, I am surprisingly Chinese. I'm just waiting for the day when I drop an "aiyah" in conversation on one of them. Can you imagine the look on one of their faces?

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