Citizen of Culture

New Yorkers chilling in Seoul

So I saw the MV for this song my host's sister, in Korea, is obsessed with: Big Bang and 21 Lollipop
The colours make me go 0_0 and the melody is really catchy.
Man, Asia digs cute girls. I am in a mixture of fascination and repulsion seeing and hearing the female vocalists.



I noticed that when I was in Korea, while I didn't have a cell phone or have the ability to speak Korean, I was free. Free in the way that I was entering into a culture that was completely foreign to me (save what I got from Korean American friends in NYC).
It didn't phase me that I didn't know Korean: I would say my 'kamsahamnida' when I was given something and if I needed anything, I'd just ask one of my friends to get it for me. On the subways we would talk loudly in English, I took pictures shamelessly and would try anything there with enthusiasm. I didn't care that while 85% of Korean women wore heels every day to go everywhere (even to the amusement park), I wore flats. For eight days, all words that came through my ears were foreign to me: I was pretty much the oblivious tourist.

Two hours by plane, I arrived in Hong Kong. Suddenly there were expectations. Expectations of being able to speak the language fluently, to look like a Hong Kong kid, to know exactly where I was going and how to get there. I was starting to feel the pressure to be the norm sink in to the bones. For the past few days that I've been here, I've noticed that 50% of the subway ads and bus commercials have to do with weight loss or lingerie that helps to enhance.. whatever.
I feel so embarrassed to speak Cantonese because I can hear my accent and at times I'm not sure what the sentence structure should be. The words always roll around on my tongue and it makes me really nervous to talk to strangers, worse, today at a dinner with girls my age and my mom's best friend. I felt like a retard who couldn't speak eloquently despite knowing exactly what I wanted to say. I held my tongue, literally.

As I was waiting for my friend to meet me at the Wan Chai station today, I recalled some words of advice I gave to someone in Las Vegas. It was when he won the $300 at Roulette and he asked if he should take a chance and spend it all on poker. I told him to be content with what he had. For he'd be the richest man at the casino if he was satisfied with what he got and to not desire for more.
Yet I was reminded that the very same words of wisdom that I gave to him, fit me so perfectly. As I wrote in the previous entry, my insecurity and struggles of self acceptance and trying to fit into the 'what should,could,if'. If I, Sam, can be content with how I was created because I was 'fearfully and wonderfully made' and not wish to be ten pounds thinner or have longer hair or better skin or more slender calves or nicer clothes, I would be richer than the majority of the female population in our society.
Why do I blame myself for not speaking Cantonese properly? It felt right to know my mother tongue, my language inherited by lineage yet I was not born here nor did I attend a school that spoke it. Yet I am constantly blaming myself for losing that cultural part of me: that my children will not know Chinese because I did not learn it whatever the circumstance. But is that really a fault, an issue, a problem, an identity crisis?

Truthfully, not really. It should not matter that my Cantonese sucks so long as people understand the general idea of what I'm saying and accomodating those who can't speak English well is better than not trying at all. Nor should it matter I don't visually look like the standard HKer (more hip hop, relaxed than Korean blouse and skirt combo). Ironically while I've been complaining that my number one pet peeve about Asia is that they shamelessly just copy other people, I too, have been trying to adjust myself to fit in with Asian culture. How original: way to go with thinking outside of the box there.
I failed last year. My Cantonese improved, my Jay Chou repertoire expanded exponentially, my style became slightly fobbier but it wasn't really satisfying because I had to maintain it according to the trend. As I wrote a year ago, I realized that if you were born to be different, you should live out your difference. I realized I couldn't try to fit in if I wanted to because I wasn't born in the same circumstances as those who are part of the culture. Though it does not define me, HKers remember me because of my sketchbook. They remember the girl who 'draws pretty pictures'.
Being memorable and making an impression is better than being everyone else. To be different is better than being forgettable. I guess in the end, we just want to find acceptance.
Being who I am has its perks: I am not defined by one country alone. I am so blessed to not be restricted physically but can bounce between the east and the west.

The central theme of my testimony for my baptism was this idea of finding Home and the idea that our identity and citizenship is not found here on earth but in Heaven. To see how I acted in Korea as opposed to Hong Kong, I've realized that I need to have that kind of perspective on life. I need to be an outsider looking in, perhaps trying to understand the clockworks of a culture but not conforming to it. For conforming is exhausting and impossible as a Christian, we were never designed to fit in here. Why would you want that in a world that has an expiry date, all that is part of it too will disappear? The Christian life should be lived without the expectations of American, Canadian or Chinese culture. It should be shaped and defined by something completely out of this world. And people should be able to see that the fuel we function on doesn't run dry because of what culture expects from us.

Hm, I feel a little better now.