 Growing up mixed 混血儿 hun xu'er (2) |
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Crossing the bridge 过桥 guo qiao
When I arrived in Xiamen, I had exactly four days to investigate. Rather than go straight for the bureau, I decided to check out the Overseas Chinese Museum first. The exhibits offered timelines and maps of Chinese migration patterns. There were stories of Chinese people migrating to various parts of the world and adapting into new cultures. There were also images of people piling into boats after the Opium War in hopes of finding a better life on the other side of the Ocean. I imagined my grandfather was on one of those boats.
The following day I spoke with the overseas Bureau in Fuzhou, who could not help me as I was in Xiamen. They gave me the phone number to the Bureau in Xiamen, and I immediately called to make an appointment that same day. As I hung up the phone, I changed my mind. The envelope had specified the smaller city of Nan'an, and so I decided to take a bus there instead. It was a three-hour ride, and the only contact information I had was #114 to ask for the qiao ban (The overseas bureau in Nan'an).
Having dinner with my cousin, Xiao Jian Jia, Mr. Xiao and two staff from the Nan'an Overseas Office. I'm the center.
As soon as I got off the bus, I called the qiao ban. Before I could write down the address or think about what she had said, the lady on the other end hung up. I looked around for transportation and surveyed my options: a rickshaw or motorcycle. The first guy who approached me was standing by a rickshaw, but ended up showing me to his motorcycle. I called up the bureau again and asked the lady to talk to the "driver." He gave me the phone and I hopped onto his bike. I was in southern China, riding on the back of a stranger's motorcycle without a helmet. So far, things were looking up.
Within a few minutes I had reached the bureau and met the lady who had spoken to me over the phone. When inside, we had tea and I explained my situation to two other employees. I showed them the pictures and told them what I thought was my last name: Xiao肖. The employees, all the while, were talking amongst themselves in a dialect I later found out to be minnanhua. When they talked to me, they spoke in Mandarin (putonghua). Within two hours, they were able to locate a man in a nearby town who shared the same last name. They immediately hired a driver and we went to visit Mr. Xiao.
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