“You know you’re gonna be stared at in Shenyang, right?”
In another life, the people of Shenyang would have remained a distant tribe I may or may not have been able to locate on the map because really, in this other life, how often would I check who lives in Liaoning, close to North Korea?
In another life, the people of Shenyang and I would have never met.
I would have missed something.
Fortunately, in 1999, Feng and I crossed paths in Beijing.
He first Shenyang specimen I’d ever laid eyes on.
It was a keeper, clearly.
Strangely enough, it was in Canada that I was introduced to another Shenyang specimen, one they no longer make in Liaoning factories: my mother-in-law. It would be years before I met the rest of the family and the rest of Shenyang. I met the two of them before anyone else. It was enough to pick up some slang, àimǎ (艾玛), and to understand that suāncài (酸菜) is a legit food group, that potatoes are supposed to come covered in sugar—eat them quick, burning hot, or else the sugar gets hard!—and that when in doubt, you should make jiǎozi (饺子).
I made jiǎozi from scratch with Feng in Australia for Chinese New Year in 2003. I made many more batches of them in Ottawa with my mother-in-law, along with spring rolls and bāozi (包子), when they came over most weekends (argh!).
Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time Feng came back with jiǎozi in a Tupperware after visiting his parents.
I don’t think she makes them anymore. My in-laws are getting seriously old.
Finally, in 2014, I got to meet Feng’s extended family in Shenyang. I found them fun and friendly after a month with my father-in-law’s more bourgeois relatives in Wuhan. I even met Feng’s grandmother, who was close to 100. I don’t think she realized I was a Westerner but hey, as long as I wasn’t Japanese, it was all good anyway.
It was only in 2024, without my mother-in-law and a bunch of relatives chaperoning us 24/7, that I properly met the other people of Shenyang. You know, the ones in night markets, subway cars, busy streets and underground malls.
Most of them speak Dōngběihuà (东北话), a very distinctive, heavily accented version of Mandarin.
Most of them are fascinated when I speak Dōngběihuà too.
The people of Shenyang are genuine, unpretentious, curious and very down to earth. Yes, I’m generalizing because no official study exists on them, but take my word for it, they’re cool and welcoming.
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