By mahaliasmith
In Shanghai, if I am with a group of other international students—especially American ones—, I am typically the individual who appears the most ethnically Chinese or Asian; therefore, whenever a local attempts to speak to the group, he or she generally singles me out and begins speaking (or shouting) energetically in Mandarin, all the while I stand there, hands up in the air, shrugging with confused facial expressions for as long as necessary until a friend steps in who knows slightly more Chinese.
The most enthralling thing to me is how (9.999 times out of 10), even after locals discover I cannot speak almost any Mandarin, they continue to talk (or shout) at me in Chinese. I am not the lone soul this has happened to/continues to happen to, which is even more fascinating in my opinion. I wonder: how many times can you yell at me in Chinese, after which I reply loudly in English, and you yell in Chinese, and I in English, before anything of substance is accomplished? Honestly, probably a lot—I haven't tried that exact method out yet; Google Translate can be one handy tool.
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Since I am constantly surrounded by millions of Asian people who relay a vague sensation of biological familiarity, yet am also a complete foreigner, I am persistently bound to this intricate feeling of belonging, synchronic to a slight feeling of alienation—unlike anything I have felt in my life—and, I believe it surprisingly makes me feel more human and especially more "American" than ever before.
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...continue reading "Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards."