Normally, I don't consider such distinctions particularly relevant. I mean, I'm as proud as can be of my actual ethnicity, but it's not like every time I meet a new person I think, "I know you think I'm Chinese but I'm not." However, here in Mexico, I find myself frequently saying, if not to someone else then at least to myself, I'm not Chinese. And no place was this as much the case as in Mexico City.
In Nayarit, I occasionally get an "hola Chinito!" or a curious look. Kids here are especially good gauges of people's interest. When I walk by kids unabashedly stare. If I smile, they often smile back and get excited as in, "mama the Chinito just smiled at me!" Normally, I'm not offended. I just roll with it, aware that in much of Mexico referring to someone by the color of their skin, the cast of their eyes, their weight, height, hair texture, past bouts of alcoholism, famous childhood trauma, or almost any other characteristic is considered a-okay. There's no real intention to offend.
However, in Mexico City, the staring often felt a bit more like an affront. In a city where people assiduously avoid eye contact most of the time, and where making direct eye contact is often considered a come on or a challenge, people still stared. Usually, the starer would quickly avert their eyes. However, now and then, the staring continued, even turning to glaring.
Once, while eating a taco in the neighborhood tianguis, an old woman sat next to me, crowding me with a grocery bag and obviously making a case for priority seating by bumping into me with her chair, her arm, and then with her leg as she settled in. A friend of hers stopped to say hello and remarked at the number of "Chinos" in the market (by my count, zero, but whatever). The old woman glared at me and responded to her friend, "en todo tu pais!"
She would not even accept ownership of her own country, she was so spitting mad at the number of Chinos it had allowed in. Her friend glared at me, just to make sure I was fully aware that they meant me, and then stalked off. Altogether, it felt very much like Portland, Oregon circa 1986 when the Japan Wars made anti-Asian racism as commonplace as teal fleece and Birkenstocks.
In Mexico City, Barrio Chino occupies only two blocks along Dolores Street. According to the Mexican government, less than 20,000 Chinese immigrants live full-time in Mexico City amongst a fantastically diverse population of millions. However, Chinese nationals are everywhere, especially in the financial district and downtown. There's even a Chinese character on Hoy, the Mexican version of The Today Show. The character, named Chinito, looks to be around 30, yet has a bi-level Tinkerbell style hair-do and 'tween appropriate costumes. One would think he was 12.
But, in spite of their small numbers among Mexico City natives, the influence of China is growing at a time when the Mexican economy is struggling. And, while I have no evidence to support my assertion, the glaring and the pushiness sure felt like resentment of that growing influence.
Of course, the dirty looks weren't all that came my way. Most people were polite, and in the majority of one-on-one interactions with people, perceptions of my ethnicity seemed immaterial. Among some, my Chino status caused me to be received as a (I'm guessing rich) new customer.
I guess it's the same story the world over. Perceived economic opportunity opens people to new ideas, and competition for scarce resources pisses them off. It's just a base human response to the need to make ends meet, one way or another.
Once, while eating a taco in the neighborhood tianguis, an old woman sat next to me, crowding me with a grocery bag and obviously making a case for priority seating by bumping into me with her chair, her arm, and then with her leg as she settled in. A friend of hers stopped to say hello and remarked at the number of "Chinos" in the market (by my count, zero, but whatever). The old woman glared at me and responded to her friend, "en todo tu pais!"
She would not even accept ownership of her own country, she was so spitting mad at the number of Chinos it had allowed in. Her friend glared at me, just to make sure I was fully aware that they meant me, and then stalked off. Altogether, it felt very much like Portland, Oregon circa 1986 when the Japan Wars made anti-Asian racism as commonplace as teal fleece and Birkenstocks.
In Mexico City, Barrio Chino occupies only two blocks along Dolores Street. According to the Mexican government, less than 20,000 Chinese immigrants live full-time in Mexico City amongst a fantastically diverse population of millions. However, Chinese nationals are everywhere, especially in the financial district and downtown. There's even a Chinese character on Hoy, the Mexican version of The Today Show. The character, named Chinito, looks to be around 30, yet has a bi-level Tinkerbell style hair-do and 'tween appropriate costumes. One would think he was 12.
But, in spite of their small numbers among Mexico City natives, the influence of China is growing at a time when the Mexican economy is struggling. And, while I have no evidence to support my assertion, the glaring and the pushiness sure felt like resentment of that growing influence.
Of course, the dirty looks weren't all that came my way. Most people were polite, and in the majority of one-on-one interactions with people, perceptions of my ethnicity seemed immaterial. Among some, my Chino status caused me to be received as a (I'm guessing rich) new customer.
I guess it's the same story the world over. Perceived economic opportunity opens people to new ideas, and competition for scarce resources pisses them off. It's just a base human response to the need to make ends meet, one way or another.
No soy chinita, soy japonesa! And I thought that I was the only Japones in San Pancho. I'm enjoying your blog and the cooler temperatures this winter, thanks to La Nina.
ReplyDeletefeliz navidad,
Tara