4 December 2001
Bonnie Wong

I am what most Cantonese would call a "juk sing" or what some Canadians would call a "banana". My parents are Chinese and grew up in Hong Kong. I was born and raised in Toronto, Canada. I speak fluent English and have the mannerisms of a Canadian, but I am quite obviously and visibly Chinese. I consider myself to be Chinese Canadian. I understand Cantonese fairly well, except for rapid speakers and big words (not too different from my comprehension of the English language). My Cantonese speaking skills clearly identify me as a banana I speak Cantonese with a Canadian accent. How did this happen? Whilst growing up, my parents spoke Cantonese to me and I answered back in English. We still understood each other, believe me.

Growing up in a Chinese family in Canada created some interesting childhood memories and lessons learnt. I thought my primary school friends had the same Chinese meals for lunch and dinner as I had. I painfully learned that this was not true when I was asked to name my favourite food during a game in school. Not knowing the English name for it, I tried to describe the doughy, rice flour balls in the soup with turnips and Chinese sausage and mushrooms that we had with soy sauce at lunchtime ("tong yuen"). I wasn't getting through to my primary school teacher. The next time I knew to save myself the humiliation and just say spaghetti (well, Italian food is a favourite now anyways!) I then started to think all things in our household were Chinese. This included bathroom items by Procter & Gamble and Worcestershire Sauce.

But as I entered my teens, this mental division I had became less important. My circle of friends in high school included kids of Greek, Maltese, Chinese, Vietnamese, Caribbean, South Asian/Indian and British/Canadian descent. I never noticed the varying ethnic backgrounds. Friends were friends no matter where they or their parents were born.

My university years were quite different. My class still had the ethnic variety I was blessed with in high school, but now there were more Chinese, more Indians, but also more British/Canadians. There were students from Toronto, students from small towns and other parts of Canada and students from other countries. But more oddly, was a circle of friends I fell into which happened to consist of people of Chinese, Korean and Filipino descent (and the token British/Canadian). I had never before in my life had so many friends of Asian descent (here I mean East Asian and South-east Asian)! Another odd event was a birthday dinner I went to where there were about 18 to 20 attendees, of which there were seven Caucasian/Oriental mixed race couples. This what would then shape the beginnings of my adulthood a multi-cultural environment with a large Asian representation.

But what truly opened my eyes was a move I made two years ago to London, England.

London, known to be cosmopolitan and international. The first department I joined in my London firm was over 100 staff in size. I was the only person of Asian descent. This was unheard of in Toronto. There had been occasions where I would be working in a team of five and three of us would be Chinese. Where were all the Asian professionals? As well, I had removed myself from the environment of my parents' house. No more Chinese soundtracks heard in the background from the living room. No more semi-monthly weekend dim sum lunches with my family. No more dim sum trips on the odd Friday with my colleagues from work. No more Cantonese spoken to me and my reply in English. I started to miss all that I took for granted, that seemed to shape me and my life. After a year in London, I enrolled in a Cantonese language class. To my pleasant surprise, I met others similar to me! BBCs! Actually, more precisely, I met a banana from Vancouver, a South African girl descended from Chinese parents, a British-born girl, whose mother was Indian and father was Chinese and an Irish-born "juk sing" who grew up in London). They, at some point in their lives, had similar identity crises as well perhaps we were all having one at the same time at the moment causing us to end up in that Cantonese class (which we duly dropped out of after four months. We still meet up for beers and speak English the whole time). In the end, we think less about what we are and where we're meant to be. We don't feel we need to be fluent in Cantonese to be Chinese. We also don't seek to "fit in" to our surroundings.

I am always up for a challenge and the next one I imposed upon myself, quite happily, is the relationship I'm presently in. My boyfriend was born in London and raised in Glasgow by Bengali parents. I call him a coconut. Together we are either a tropical fruit salad or just enjoying each other's company and learning from each other's ethnic background and cultural upbringing. He corrects me when I say trunk rather than boot and I've subliminally convinced him to say sidewalk instead of pavement. He tells me about Indian and Bengali history and people and I enlighten him on dim sum, chopstick holding and what little I know about Hong Kong. The world is a complex place and whilst challenging, I think it is possible and well worth it to retain my Chinese and Canadian roots and welcome things Scottish and Indian with a warm heart and an open mind.

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