I was excited to move to China precisely because I knew I would blend in. When I was growing up in Upper West Side of Manhattan, speaking English at home, my friends and neighbors were overwhelmingly white Americans. Like many third generation Chinese-Americans growing up in the United Sates, I was the only Chinese in my class at school. To be sure, my family celebrated Chinese New Year and went on outings with other Chinese American families. My brother and sisters and I, like all our cousins, were raised amid hopes we would marry other Chinese…

In China, where you come from, where your family comes from is a critical part of your character. In China, you want to know his laojia, his ancestral home, where his family came from. Ask an American where his family comes from and he might say “We’re Irish,” or “Italian.” Ask what village he is from, and he would probably shrug his shoulders. A Chinese-American in China finds out very early on that she had better know exactly where her family is from.”

- an excerpt of China Wakes -The Struggle for the Soul of a Rising Power by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn.

My very worn out copy of China Wakes

China Wakes, by Nicholas D. Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn, the first married couple to win a Pulitzer for journalism, is probably one of my favourite books of all time though it might be archaic at present; given the rate that China is progressing (and the fact that it was published in 1994). Chronicling female infanticide to religion to dictatorship to communism, the book is well researched from the first word to the last chapter about Chinese history and living in the 90s.

The excerpt above was written by WuDunn in the chapter, What Kind of Chinese are You, Anyway? In it, she described the Venn diagram of her ethnicity and nationality, the alienation of living in China where she blended in appearance-wise, but stood out with her American lifestyle and values (“I learned gongfu but spent more time on aerobics; I can use chopsticks but I like to eat with a fork; I feel American, but I also feel Chinese”).

Besides elucidating her conflicting identity, she also discussed the Chinese Diaspora to Indonesia, Singapore, Thailand, and Malaysia as well as the migration of her grandparents from Taishan in Guangdong Province and their assimilation (“My grandparents died in America, never having entirely adjusted to a funny land where people have hairy faces and a language so crude that it does not even have tones”).

Hence, if there was something that could translate WuDunn’s literature on Chinese exodus, integration, tribulations and triumphant into something tangible, Hua Song Museum is it.

Part of it features Anna May Wong, the first Chinese-American movie star. Despite having limited roles in Hollywood because she was Chinese and anti-miscegenation laws in America then that did not permit on screen intimacy between characters of different races, she went on to act alongside screen siren Marlene Dietrich and in distinguished German films Schmutziges Geld (“Song”) and Großstadtschmetterling (“City Butterfly”) when she moved to Europe in the late 1920s.

Samsui women working specifically in the labour industry also proved to be a vital group of Chinese immigrants contributing to Singapore’s construction and development during their arrival here in the 20s to 40s. Emphasized by their stiff rectangular red headscarves, they were a dignified group of celibate women; plummeting through menial labour of construction work with meager salary than the more lucrative but morally deficient option of drug peddling or prostitution.

Having battled Sinophobia, lingual cacophony, cultural differences, the Chinese have gone on to thrive in their naturalized surrounding in a myriad of niche, including fashion (London based shoemaker and designer Jimmy Choo), politics (102^nd Lord Mayor of Melbourne, John So), sports (Indonesian badminton player, Rudy Hartono), and culinary (Michael Chow of Mr. Chow fame).

To have a museum showcasing the diaspora, tracing the roots of travel in the 18^th century via a rickety wooden ship to the number of successful Chinese in their adopted homeland as far as Argentina and Jamaica today, is a defining statement to all Chinese immigrants worldwide that we’ve come a long way, and well, we’ve made it.

For more on the Mid Autumn Festival at Hua Song, go to:

http://joettte.blogspot.com/2009/10/few-questions-for-chang-e.html

http://joettte.blogspot.com/2009/10/chinesque-discovery.html

Post script: The following images are my family’s personal collection of my grandparents who were first generation immigrants from China, some which I find mildy amusing.

My grandfather was barely seen without a stick of cigarette in his hand

The picture I affectionately refer to as the one of the China girl and the China boy

Now who on earth is Annie Chan, Mummy 4?