4 December 2001
Ping-Ping Wong

Do you know what it is like to be a Banana? Let me enlighten you...

When people meet me for the first time, the first question they usually ask is "Where are you from?" I simply answer, "I'm from London." More often than not, they will stare at my long black hair and my almond-shaped eyes and press further, "NO! Where are you REALLY from?" Knowing that this to be a losing battle, I give up and explain my ever so complicated history.

"I'm a 'BBC'. No, not part of the British Broadcasting Cooperation; I am a 'British Born Chinese'. My parents are from Singapore, my paternal grandparents are from Canton and my maternal grandparents are from Hainan Island (in China). Even though I am very much Chinese, I'm what some people refer to as a 'Banana'. Yes! A Banana! This means that I'm yellow (Chinese) on the outside and White (British) on the inside."

Growing up in a culturally strong Chinese family in a non-Chinese society has not been an easy stroll in the park. There was always the usual name calling in school from sassy kids in the playground.

When I was seven years old. A scrawny little boy shouted to me "Hey you! Go back to China!" To which I replied, "I'm not from China I'm from England!" I'll never forget the look he gave me. It was a mixture of disbelief and disgust. I think that incident really struck a chord in me. It made me realize how little I really knew about my roots and I started to question just who I really was.

I look at myself now and I realize that I can't speak Chinese fluently, I don't know any kung-fu (apart from the many, MANY Jackie Chan films I watched as a kid) and pasta is my favorite food. Yet, at the same time, I celebrate Chinese New Year and Moon Cake Festival, I don't wear shoes in my house and I try not to wear black all the time (my

Mother thinks its bad luck!). This melting pot of both the English and Chinese cultures used to make me feel awkward and quite out of place. I spent a large part of my early teens feeling depressed because I felt that I didn't belong anywhere (maybe it was the hormones kicking in which also helped the tears to roll down.) Yet, I've come to realize that being both Singaporean and British is what gives me that extra sparkle! It has molded me into the unique (if not sometimes complicated) person that I am. Whenever I'm in Singapore people compliment me on aspects of myself that I never noticed before, such as how 'polite' I am (it's official, British people have been voted the most polite country in the world) or how I'm more arty-farty unlike the usual stereotypical Chinese Mathematical boff!

Nevertheless, I definitely embrace my Chinese roots with open arms. They have engrained in me the deep respect I have for my elders. For example, I ALWAYS call Chinese people (who are over forty) 'Auntie' or 'Uncle'. One of my non-Chinese friends commented, "Wow! You seem to have such a big family!". Little does she know!

I've also been able to take pride in the rich cultural integrity that my ancestors developed thousands of years ago. It has been drilled into me that putting your parents into an old folk's home is one of the most despicable things you could do. Forget running off and eloping in the Bahamas with a ninety-year-old millionaire or leaving a newborn baby on the streets, this is worse. My mother's worst nightmare would probably be me leaving her with nothing but a briefcase of cash and a cozy room in, 'Bluebird's sanctuary for the elderly'.

However, being British Chinese has taught me one of the most important things in life having a respect for other races. Throughout the years, I have had my fair share of racist experiences. But through them I have evolved into a stronger and more understanding person. I don't think that I would have this acute sense of compassion for minorities, if I had been brought up in a country where I was in the majority.

I believe that being a BBC will contribute to how I will bring up my children. When I have kids (maybe in ten years time I'm not ready for stretch marks just yet), I will teach them about both the British and Chinese Culture. How you can follow your own dreams and also be filial to your parents. How Chinese and English are languages as important as each other, and most importantly of all how eating eggs, baked beans and rice is not a culinary sin. I suppose this really brings me to the question, "Would I want my kids to be BBC too?" To be quite honest, I really don't know. Don't get me wrong, I truly thank God that I am BBC and I wouldn't want it any other way. However, I don't know whether my children will be strong enough to adjust to the confusion and isolation that comes along with it. I really don't want to face my kids when they come home from school wondering why another kid used a yellow crayon to colour a picture of them in when he used a pink crayon for all the other kids. Or maybe, just like my mother I won't know what to say when my kid says, "I don't belong anywhere why did you bring me up here instead of Singapore?"

I suppose I'll just have to take it one step at a time. Hopefully when the time comes, I'll know what to do.

In the mean time, I'll just stay content being the Banana in a large, cosmopolitan, fruit bowl!

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