Chinese Knick-Knacks in my Jewellery Box

Sometimes, when I look at my reflection in the mirror, I’m almost surprised to see that, indeed, I have a big nose and dark eyes that are much too wide to be mistaken for most Asians’ almond-shaped eyes. I’m almost about twenty inches too tall and forty pounds too heavy to be your average Asian woman.

I guess I’m not Chinese.

So what are all these pairs of chopsticks doing in the sink? Why is a Chinese calendar hung on the wall in the living room? Why does the table look like a mini Chinese confectionery store, complete with White Rabbit Creamy Candies (大白兔奶糖)? Why are there Chinese knot decorations (中國結) in the hallway? Why do we stack little trinkets in old mooncake (月饼) metal boxes? How do steamed buns with cabbage end up in my lunch box? Why does the only thing that seems to grow in the tiny patch of soil on the side of the house is Chinese leek ()?

Fun fact, when my Caucasian family visited in July, we rushed to IKEA at the last minute to buy cutlery. We had more pairs of chopsticks than knives and forks.

Feng, on his side, could legitimately wonder why there’s so much stinky cheese in the fridge (FYI, it’s imported from Italy or France and I triple-wrap it so that it doesn’t actually stink up the fridge). Or why we had to buy more bookshelves for all these English and French novels I hoard.

At times, at home, it feels like a United Nations Security Council. France and China. We are permanent members with the power to veto decisions made by other members. Likeno more Chinese food for a while, I can’t take any more white rice!” and “pasta with four cheese sauce with parmesan on top, really?”

Good thing we are living in neutral territory—Canada.

It’s fun to live in a multicultural home. Little by little, we adopted cultural behaviours and products from each other’s cultures. When my muscles hurt, I grab the tiny glass bottle of Eagle Oil we bought in Singapore. I rub a few drops of the chlorophyll-green liquid on my skin and it feels great (even though I smell like a Chinese herbal pharmacy afterwards). Feng learned that “going for coffee” didn’t mean “going to Tim Horton’s and ordering from the drive-through” but involved sitting around a table and talking or reading.

People are sometimes curious about us. Some ask whether his family was okay with the fact I wasn’t Chinese—as far as I know, they were and they’ve been feeding me various delicacies for about nine years now. How about my side of the family? No problem on this side, although they weren’t exactly thrilled at first when it became clear that I would not live in France but thousands of kilometres away.

In Canada, interracial couples are fairly common, but I noted there are more Asian girls with Caucasian guys than the other way around. Anywhere else in the world, like in Latin America or in Australia, we are both outsiders so people see us as travellers and foreigners. They forget that his eyes are smaller than mine and that my hair isn’t as black as his. In China, people stare because that’s what most Chinese do when they see something unusual, may it be a disability, a funny style or a non-Asian person. But it’s usually clear to most Chinese that Feng is an “overseas Chinese” (even though technically he is not since he grew up in China) so we don’t draw that much attention.

But sometimes, people’s reactions are funny.

Earlier this year, in Thailand, the owner of an Internet café where we were checking our emails congratulated us loudly when he saw us arrive: “Asian man and white girl, good, very good!”

Feng and I hugged and smiled somewhat awkwardly.

“I think he assumed I rented you for the night” I whispered—we were in the middle of Phuket’s famous red light district!

Get the latest story, cultural shock and travel pictures right in your inbox

I don't spam, promise.

I literally don't have the time to write ten stories a day.

Visited 26 times, 1 visit(s) today

18 Comments

  1. Elisabeth Stewart September 7, 2011 at 9:56 am

    I have to travel to another country (or downtown!) to immerse myself in another culture. You’re fortunate to be able to do it at home.

    Reply
    1. Zhu September 8, 2011 at 2:20 pm

      That’s true! I do feel lucky 🙂

      Reply
  2. Cynthia September 7, 2011 at 11:21 am

    When we travel, people always ask my BF whether he’s German or start speaking to him in German. Although he speaks a little German, he remains a Frenchman because of his taste for stinky cheese that he does not have the delicacy of triple-wrapping. I usually have to give him a deadline: you eat it or the dog will 🙂

    Reply
    1. Zhu September 8, 2011 at 2:20 pm

      😆 Love the deadline, hopefully Feng doesn’t come across that one. We don’t have pets but there are little ducks and rabbits around the house!

      Reply
  3. Jeruen September 7, 2011 at 11:39 am

    Haha, reading this made me curious about the two of you too!

    But I can totally relate to this. My father is half-Chinese, half Filipino. My mother is half-Spaniard, half-Filipino. Nobody thinks I am Filipino whenever I am outside. In Boston, a Chinese-speaking man insisted on talking to me in Chinese, and got pissed off when I couldn’t understand him. In the train from Seattle to Portland, a Filipino family thought I was from Tibet (having a shaved head at that time didn’t help).

    And the fact that I grew up as being part of the diplomatic corps doesn’t help either. My parents’ home in Manila is filled with stuff from many different locations. The couch set is from Japan, there’s trinkets and souvenirs from various parts of Europe, the crystal ashtray that was a gift from the Yugoslav consul (yep, that’s old) is still there, the Mexican textile is hanging on the wall, some coins from Qatar that are framed are on the other room, etc. Even functional stuff, such as dishes, are from the Czech Republic, but the espresso cups are from Hungary. And there’s also the Turkish coffee set that is seldom used!

    Reply
    1. Zhu September 8, 2011 at 2:22 pm

      I guess there is a sizeable Fil­ipino population in North America but not in Europe (or at least, not that I can remind and not where I lived). I became slightly more knowledgeable about the culture and I can sometime tells a person is a Fil­ipino because of the Spanish-sounding last name and some Asian features. But again, lots of Fil­ipino don’t have a Spanish name, right?

      Reply
  4. Isa September 7, 2011 at 3:01 pm

    I LOVE this article. I’ve got nothing more to say!

    Reply
    1. Zhu September 8, 2011 at 2:23 pm

      😆 Thank you!

      Reply
  5. Katherina September 7, 2011 at 3:10 pm

    I would love to create a multicultural home some day (I’ve tried to – dating more french than spanish or germans, but with rather little success…. yet!).

    My aunt (who’s only about 30 something) is half german half portuguese and was born in Spain. She married a guy who’s chinese with japanese and dutch background. At home, they speak english as their common language – but the two of them, together, cover six different languages!

    I really envy it! (in a good way)

    Reply
  6. Gail at Large September 7, 2011 at 11:26 pm

    People are confused about what I am (Filipino), I have been mistaken for every other Asian — from Indonesian to Japanese to Chinese. It’s not a homogeneous country, though, I probably have genetic material from all of those cultures. The Philippines was colonized by Spain for 400 years and other countries to a lesser degree. On my birth certificate, the race is listed as Malaysian and the nationality as Filipino.

    I’ve never dated a Filipino, though, which has given rise to many misconceptions of how I ended up with the non-Asian guy. If I ever have a kid, I’ll probably be mistaken for the nanny!

    Reply
    1. Zhu September 8, 2011 at 2:30 pm

      I think I’ve known for a long time that you were Fil­ipino (Filipina, no?) because you must have told me or I read it on your blog. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known! I wasn’t too familiar with Fil­ipino immigrants before I came to North America. Malaysian though? You don’t look to Malaysian, at least compared to most Malaysians I met!

      Reply
  7. barbara September 8, 2011 at 3:16 am

    Salut Zhu,

    I understand where you are coming from 100+% Yes!!

    I was born multicultural(white & Asian mix) and grew up in Hawaii, where everyone mixes with everyone. Mariages on the island are almost always mixed, so you guys would be right at home. If you have children in the future, they will be as we say in Hawaii, hapa.

    Hapa means half or mixed, especially half Asian or Pacific islander…

    Growing up in Hawaii was the best. It gave me tolerance,open mindedness and curiosity for other peoples. These types of atttudes are often missing in France, but I do my best to share it around me.

    I take pride in all my ethnic roots, that are both European and Asian…

    Vive la différence!!

    Reply
    1. Zhu September 8, 2011 at 2:33 pm

      I always thought you had really cool roots and an interesting childhood story from what I read before. I believe in cultural mixes so I value that! Plus the way you came to settle in France and become a little bit française is another cool story!

      Reply
  8. khengsiong September 8, 2011 at 4:27 am

    United Nations at home – that’s something you can be proud of!

    BTW, can someone introduce a Thai girl to me? *wink wink*

    Reply
    1. Zhu September 8, 2011 at 2:33 pm

      Aw, sorry, I don’t have connexions… you closer to Thailand than I am 😆

      Reply
  9. kyh September 13, 2011 at 3:10 am

    That’s very interesting! It’s funny how you get so obsessed with Chinese or Asian things. 😀

    I like European on the other hand but always make it a point to stay true to my Asian roots. Haha!

    Reply
    1. Zhu September 13, 2011 at 12:14 pm

      I would say obsessed, but yes, I did adopt a few things from China!

      Reply

Leave A Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *