An imagined letter about our 1994 trip to an ancestral village.
To My Relatives in Full Moon Village, Canton, China,
It’s been ten years since I visited you. That warm summer day a minibus full of your American relatives from Old Gold Mountain—California—came to your village, completing a journey of three generations.
I remember how you picked out a huge watermelon from your garden and how we sat on the wall and ate it together. I remember the big collage of family pictures on your wall, pictures that included my wife and me on our wedding day an ocean away from you.
I remember the chickens and the water buffalo, the peanuts spread out to dry, and the watchtower we climbed to look out over the lush, green rice fields. I remember the great frustration of having so much to say but having only a couple of us who knew enough Cantonese to talk with you.
The promise of jobs, homes, and educations here on Old Gold Mountain has come true for us. None of us is ever hungry or without medical care. My parents always had steady work and were able to send us to the best universities. So now we have good jobs as doctors, professors, and executives. We have cars and go on trips. Our homes are filled with books, music, and computers—so many things that we have almost no time for TV. We often go to Chinese restaurants and order our favorite dishes.
So it was, after three generations here, that we could afford a trip to China and our trip to you. My parents were retired and my wife and I had not started a family yet. Travel to China had long since become not only possible but routine. So, after seeing Beijing, Guilin, and Xiamen, we came to the city of Kaiping in Canton Province, from where we took a minibus to see you.
There were not many of you in the village that day: mostly the very young and very old, plus a skeleton crew to tend the land. All those who could were in the cities working or trying to find work. We gave out many fewer red envelopes of money than we thought we would.
As the others returned to the village from time to time and heard of our visit, what did they say? Did they wish they had been there? Did they ask why we only stayed a few hours? Did they ask why we had come without even writing first to let you know we were on the way?
Later you wrote to apologize, expressing shame for being poor hosts and not having tea ready for us. But we are the ones who should apologize, dropping in unexpectedly like that. Please forgive us for putting you in such a spot. We had our plans and our gifts prepared but did not give you the same chance.
But I hope it was all for the best. If we had not lost touch for a generation or more now, if we were not so expensive and complicated to host for even one full meal (let alone a whole day or more), if we knew the language and customs better, perhaps more mutual preparations and a longer stay would have worked. Your life has been harder than ours but I think you are also stronger. We probably wouldn’t even last one day without running water!
So I hope you are glad we came, if only for those few hours. I will remember those hours the rest of my life.
We do have children now, two daughters. Of course we want them to know and love their Chinese heritage. But part of the freedom of America is the freedom for each individual to choose his or her own path in life. While my daughters will always be Chinese by race, it will be their choice whether to speak, cook, or marry Chinese. While they are still young we have them take Chinese lessons, read attractive books about China and Chinese-Americans, go to Chinese music concerts and art exhibits, and celebrate Lunar New Year. But, in the end, whether and how much they consider themselves Chinese (or the more popular term here now, “Asian-American”) will be up to them.
Now China is rising swiftly in economic and political power. It may still be hard to imagine, but in two or three generations you may have the wealth and ability to travel and perhaps come visit us here. And so, whether here or there, may we or our children or their children see each other again. Our visit ten years ago was the first reunion. I hope it is not the last.
Your Chinese-American relative,
Russell Yee
Oakland, California,
United States of America
Russell Yee 