I googled 'Australian - Chinese' writers recently in a pique of curiosity to see what would come up. This article caught my interest, mainly because of the word 'hyphenated.'
Years ago when I was a university student in Perth, I was introduced to the works of Trinh Minh-ha, who wrote something that has stuck in my head all these years.
'The challenge of a hyphenated reality lies in the hyphen itself. The hyphenated condition certainly does not limit itself to a duality between cultural conditions.'
I had not, up to that point, ever thought of myself as a hyphen, or hyphenated, but Minh-ha's theory around hybrid identities resonated with me. And still does because it provides an apt symbol for those of us who have or still do straddle multiple ethnic and cultural worlds as part of our daily lives. The fact that the article that caught my interest about Australian-Chinese writers is titled 'No-one is Born Hyphenated.' shows it is still a popular symbol being used
Anyway, the opening paragraph contained another sentence that caught my attention. I quote:
Ethnic literature's hot. And important, too,” says one writing instructor. “I’m sick of ethnic lit,” a fellow student retorts, “It’s full of descriptions of exotic food.”
This made me laugh because the memoir I am writing about growing up as a Chinese kid in Australia contains lots of descriptions about the getting, preparing and eating of said exotic food.
I am such a cliche was my second thought.
Which got me thinking about us hyphenated Chinese - (add second culture here, or third, ad infinitum) people for whom food is, to put it mildly, pretty important.
And not just any food. Good Food. Good Chinese Food.
Good Chinese Food is very important to most of my Chinese-hyphen friends. I have friends that have rice every night. Congee is important. Meat is important. Quality is important. Wok flame is important.
It makes sense. Irrespective of culture, your palate is formed by the food you eat growing up. And your attitudes towards food are informed by your environment . For the Chinese, food is imbued with vast powers. It is medicinal. It is preventative. It is superstition. It is celebratory. It is family. It is communion. It is value-for-money. It is, just short of religion. Actually, it is a religion. For the Chinese, food is a religion.
Somehow, I became an atheist.
Like most of my hybrid friends, Chinese food was a huge part of my upbringing but now, unlike some of them, I do not regard Chinese Food as the apex of the culinary universe. I like it. I eat it occasionally. I eat a lot of it if mum and dad are visiting. But for the most part, it does not feature in my daily diet.
This does not compute with some of these friends. It doesn't compute with my mother although she pretends it does.
But what do you eat? they ask, aghast.
I like raw things, I like vegetarian food. I don't really like congee. I think stir-frying is handy, but over- rated.
I don't want to eat the things that I had to eat every night growing up. My palate is not a case of either-or. Chinese Food vs All Other Food.
There is however, one Chinese dish which I worship with holy devotion. It has sustained me for 43 years, most likely because I don’t have it that often.
Like the title of the article, we are not born hyphenated. We are born multitudinal. I couldn't exercise that within my palate as a child when rice was might.
But I can now.
Years ago when I was a university student in Perth, I was introduced to the works of Trinh Minh-ha, who wrote something that has stuck in my head all these years.
'The challenge of a hyphenated reality lies in the hyphen itself. The hyphenated condition certainly does not limit itself to a duality between cultural conditions.'
I had not, up to that point, ever thought of myself as a hyphen, or hyphenated, but Minh-ha's theory around hybrid identities resonated with me. And still does because it provides an apt symbol for those of us who have or still do straddle multiple ethnic and cultural worlds as part of our daily lives. The fact that the article that caught my interest about Australian-Chinese writers is titled 'No-one is Born Hyphenated.' shows it is still a popular symbol being used
Anyway, the opening paragraph contained another sentence that caught my attention. I quote:
Ethnic literature's hot. And important, too,” says one writing instructor. “I’m sick of ethnic lit,” a fellow student retorts, “It’s full of descriptions of exotic food.”
This made me laugh because the memoir I am writing about growing up as a Chinese kid in Australia contains lots of descriptions about the getting, preparing and eating of said exotic food.
I am such a cliche was my second thought.
Which got me thinking about us hyphenated Chinese - (add second culture here, or third, ad infinitum) people for whom food is, to put it mildly, pretty important.
And not just any food. Good Food. Good Chinese Food.
Good Chinese Food is very important to most of my Chinese-hyphen friends. I have friends that have rice every night. Congee is important. Meat is important. Quality is important. Wok flame is important.
It makes sense. Irrespective of culture, your palate is formed by the food you eat growing up. And your attitudes towards food are informed by your environment . For the Chinese, food is imbued with vast powers. It is medicinal. It is preventative. It is superstition. It is celebratory. It is family. It is communion. It is value-for-money. It is, just short of religion. Actually, it is a religion. For the Chinese, food is a religion.
Somehow, I became an atheist.
Like most of my hybrid friends, Chinese food was a huge part of my upbringing but now, unlike some of them, I do not regard Chinese Food as the apex of the culinary universe. I like it. I eat it occasionally. I eat a lot of it if mum and dad are visiting. But for the most part, it does not feature in my daily diet.
This does not compute with some of these friends. It doesn't compute with my mother although she pretends it does.
But what do you eat? they ask, aghast.
I like raw things, I like vegetarian food. I don't really like congee. I think stir-frying is handy, but over- rated.
I don't want to eat the things that I had to eat every night growing up. My palate is not a case of either-or. Chinese Food vs All Other Food.
There is however, one Chinese dish which I worship with holy devotion. It has sustained me for 43 years, most likely because I don’t have it that often.
Like the title of the article, we are not born hyphenated. We are born multitudinal. I couldn't exercise that within my palate as a child when rice was might.
But I can now.
