BEIJING “Your Chinese is terrible! Aren't you ashamed as a Chinese?''
‘‘Oh, you've come home! That's wonderful! You can see how the motherland is developing.''
‘‘I've always wanted to know - how do Australians view us Chinese?''
As a second-generation Chinese-Australian now living in Beijing, I've become used to such questions - from taxi drivers to distant Chinese relatives and tourists asking me for directions.
Cities like Beijing and Shanghai are increasingly home to overseas Chinese, as those of us of Chinese descent who are not citizens of China are known. By some estimates, more than 30 percent of the American citizens living in China are of Chinese ethnicity.
For hyphenated Chinese like me, living here presents challenges as well as attractions. The chance to explore our's roots and discover a country radically different from the one left behind by our parents or grandparents can be as powerful a lure as the job opportunities offered by a rising China.
Yet expectations of some Chinese toward ethnically Chinese foreigners can be disconcerting. There are assumptions that someone who looks Chinese must speak fluent Mandarin and instinctively understand cultural norms that may be peculiar to the contemporary mainland. Both locals and foreigners can be unsure how to categorize us.
Last summer, a Chinese-American friend, Holly Zhao, was squished in a sweltering Beijing subway car and talking distractedly on her cellphone in English when she accidentally stepped on another passenger's foot. Her apology did little to quell his anger. ‘‘This is China,'' the man snarled. ‘‘Learn Chinese and then apologize.''
Li Jinzhao, a specialist in diaspora studies at Beijing Foreign Studies University, says overseas Chinese are often ‘‘blamed directly or indirectly if they look the Chinese language but don't speak the language. They are seen as a failure of Chinese culture.''
Overseas Chinese also find they are a part of the complicated racial landscape of China where ‘‘you get five stars if you are a white foreigner, three stars if you're an overseas Chinese and two stars if you are local Chinese,'' said Jason Zheng, a Chinese-American who has lived in China for eight years, first as an English teacher, and who now runs several bars and restaurants in Beijing.
‘‘Even though I had two years' experience teaching English in China,'' Mr. Zheng said, ‘‘I was told I wasn't white enough when I went for an interview at Crazy English,'' referring to a popular language program.
Classified ads in expatriate magazines are filled with advertisements for ‘‘foreign-looking'' foreigners who can pose as chief executives to enhance the aura of Chinese companies in crucial negotiations, ‘‘white'' English teachers, and men marketing themselves as a ‘‘Caucasian boyfriend-slash-husband-to-be.''
Last year, Ross Tan was refused entry to a Beijing club because he could not produce a Chinese identity card, he said. He explained he didn't have a Chinese identity card because he was born and raised in Australia. But he did have an Australian passport he could present as proof of identity. The bouncer refused him entry but let his five Caucasian friends in without even a glance at their papers.
Two weeks later, during a police crackdown on foreigners without valid paperwork, Mr. Tan was asked to produce his passport, his visa and his residence permit at the very same club. ‘‘So basically, I'm too Chinese to be foreign and too foreign to be Chinese,'' he said with a sigh.
But this confusion over identity might also be one of China's attractions to many overseas Chinese. Steven Tao, another Chinese-Australian, sees the advantages of playing to stereotypes.
‘‘You have to know how to use it in different situations depending on who you are interacting with,'' he said. ‘‘Sometimes, I'll exaggerate my foreign accent when I speak Chinese. Sometimes, when I'm asked where I'm from, I'll say ‘I'm Australian, with a Chinese heart.' ''
Mr. Zheng, who has investments in several of Beijing's trendiest restaurants and bars, agrees with the importance of embracing the contradictions. ‘‘In China, I found the American Dream. But I wouldn't have come or stayed if I wasn't ethnically Chinese.''
Sometimes Beijing's air pollution and food safety scares make me want to pack up and go home. But the dynamism of a rapidly changing China, coupled with curiosity over what my life might have been if my grandparents hadn't left, searching for better opportunities, keeps me here.
Chinese friends often confess that if I were white, we probably wouldn't be so close. Foreigners who are not ethnically Chinese frequently complain about the difficulty of making Chinese friends who aren't simply interested in practicing English.
The divide between locals and foreigners can be stark. While there are a lucky few who comfortably navigate the two worlds, the chasm is evident in the passport-based lunch circles at multinational companies in Beijing and in the awkwardness of foreigners at karaoke evenings or of Chinese at house parties hosted by foreigners. The segregation extends to the different apartment complexes, supermarkets and bars that cater to Chinese versus foreign tastes.
Growing up, I used to ask my parents why I didn't have blond hair like my classmates. At my university, I took a class on diasporas in which the professor said everyone should spend some time living in a society where they look different from the mainstream. In China, although I look like that mainstream, I've discovered just how Australian I am.
I often find I have much in common with overseas Chinese from countries as diverse as Panama, Mauritius, Denmark, Germany, France, Switzerland, Myanmar, Japan, Singapore and Canada. We get together and laugh about our encounters with Beijing taxi drivers. We argue about what it means to be Chinese and the connection between language and identity. We speculate about why it probably is different for a second-generation Irish-American in Ireland than it is for us in China.
But we seem to agree on one thing: There needs to be an evolution of Chinese identity to include overseas Chinese.
Holly Zhao summed it up when she reflected on her encounter in the Beijing subway, ‘‘You don't have to be Chinese the way they want you to be.''
Are you, like the author of this post, “Overseas Chinese†or “hyphenated Chinese� Share your experiences in the comment space here.
