Why I wish we would have moved to a Chinese neighborhood earlier
Right before Christmas, I went with a group of American friends on a shopping trip. One of them had a driver and generously offered to take a few of us to a warehouse district. One of my Chinese friends wanted to go, too, and was invited because there was room, but at the last minute could not. When I told the woman whose car it was that we didn't need to get Fei Fei because she couldn't come, another American woman asked, "Is that your ayi?"
Several times at the playground in the gated community when I would be talking to my friend Hai Xia (who is about 21) or another Chinese woman LiLi, people asked me if one of them was my ayi. In fact, for the longest time other ayis in that gated community thought LiLi's baby was mine and LiLi and her mother were my two ayis. And LiLi even lives in that gated neighborhood!
The other day, Myles and I were walking down the street with one of my friends from the Chinese parish. Myles was holding both of our hands. We ran into one of Myles' American friends and his mother (whom we do adore), and the friend asked if she were Myles ayi.
The first question foreign children ask Myles is which school he goes to. Sometimes the second is where is your ayi.
At least in the Chinese neighborhood we are a curiosity because we are foreign. Not because our family spends time with Chinese people that aren't in our domestic employ, or have chosen not to enroll Myles in school yet, or that I scrub my own bathrooms. I can handle the impertinent questions and stares from Chinese people; from Americans it's not as easy to excuse.
Several times at the playground in the gated community when I would be talking to my friend Hai Xia (who is about 21) or another Chinese woman LiLi, people asked me if one of them was my ayi. In fact, for the longest time other ayis in that gated community thought LiLi's baby was mine and LiLi and her mother were my two ayis. And LiLi even lives in that gated neighborhood!
The other day, Myles and I were walking down the street with one of my friends from the Chinese parish. Myles was holding both of our hands. We ran into one of Myles' American friends and his mother (whom we do adore), and the friend asked if she were Myles ayi.
The first question foreign children ask Myles is which school he goes to. Sometimes the second is where is your ayi.
At least in the Chinese neighborhood we are a curiosity because we are foreign. Not because our family spends time with Chinese people that aren't in our domestic employ, or have chosen not to enroll Myles in school yet, or that I scrub my own bathrooms. I can handle the impertinent questions and stares from Chinese people; from Americans it's not as easy to excuse.
Comments