 Growing up mixed 混血儿 hun xu'er (4) |
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Becoming a bridge 华侨 hua qiao
In December 2007, my parents and I went to Fujian Province to meet my father's extended family. This is the first time that the Filipino and Chinese sides of my family have made contact in over 30 years. My parents and I flew into Xiamen from separate cities: my parents from Los Angeles, and I from Beijing. The following day a whole van full of our relatives came to pick us up at our hotel, and we all drove to their home near Nan'an city. After some introductory hugs and "ni hao's," we all got into the van. My cousins held my parents arms as if they were large, unwrapped ceramic vases being placed into the van. My parents would later be accompanied this way up and down stairs, and in and out of numerous cars. They told me that they felt so fragile, and that they were held so much that they could barely move!
To my cousins and the rest of my family, my parents were honored elders and I became that bridge between the two families that were now one. My parents were not used to having a Chinese family. They gaped wide-eyed at the constant offering of soups and snacks in between meals. They patted their stomachs and tried to explain that they were full. My female cousins, my six jie jie, all said we were wearing too little, and that we should wear more clothing. As I translated this, my parents laughed. My nieces asked if we had more clothes to wear, and I had to assure them numerous times that we had packed more clothing in our suitcases.
In front of my grandfather's memorial
Growing up in America, there was certainly a concern about people's health, nutrition, shelter and clothing. But I never felt it as strongly as I do within this Chinese family. This family that we have here is more concerned about the material, as opposed to the spiritual. Growing up Roman Catholic, I was surrounded by family that placed equal importance, if not more so, on spiritual health as on material satisfaction. Our Chinese family was so much more concerned and vigilant of our eating habits than what we believed or had to say.
My cousins addressed my father as "shu shu" (an uncle who was their father's younger brother). Xiao Jian Jia said that my father looked like his deceased father, my father's half-brother, who was almost 20 years my father's senior. My cousins showed us where my grandfather was born and the memorial for our family and generations of Xiao living in the town of Kang Mei. One of the most moving parts of this trip occurred when my father was offered incense to light and "bai fang" at his father's birthplace.
Our first day was long and my parents were rather tired from jet lag. The family insisted that we stay with them, but after drinking pots of Oolong tea and eating various foods and snacks, my parents insisted that we go to a hotel. The family eventually hired a car to take us to our hotel. We would see them the following day.
A group picture in front of the house, with my parents in the center.
The next day, another van full of family members came to pick us up. We sat down for tea and more snacks, and we also took more pictures. It was New Year's Eve, and we had an especially large dinner accompanied by several cups of red wine and bai jiu (white wine). My cousin was learning to say "aunt" and "uncle." My parents and I learned that my grandfather had a brother. His grandson still lived in the same village, and kept records of the family tree. Neither my grandfather's brother's nor my great grandfather's birth and death information were recorded. My father's side ended there.
By Agatha So
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