Living with an Asian family

The day came for meeting our host families, July 6th. It was a Friday and we had all morning and lunch to spend with the other volunteers before we all left. We went back to our hotel rooms to bring down our luggage, when I came down stairs I glanced to my left and saw my name on a blue  piece of paper with my name and mini description of who I was. When I took mine out, they caught the paper and ran towards me. The mom locked arms with me and dragged me to my luggage to help me carry it out. The dad carried a camera that would not leave his sight, literally, held it up until we arrived home and even then he was clicking away. I was also greeted by their friend and his 10 year old  son,  who was the only one who knew English. We went to a little whole-in-the-wall place to have lunch. Much of what was talked about is kinda blurred but I remember just smiling a lot and being slightly overwhelmed.

When I spent the first night there, I didn’t think it was too far from how I grew up and I noticed a lot of similar characteristics. For example, we all take showers at night, the mother urges me to dry my hair  after the shower so that I won’t get sick, feeds me until I look like I’m at least 2 months pregnant and showers me with affection. They were really the sweetest family who had me there for the right intentions and not just having their daughter practice English. Most host parents would like us to call them “mama” and “baba”, however mine insisted on calling them “aunt” and “uncle”. Somehow, I avoided using their real names and calling them by their preferred titles. 

A typical day with the host family and training went like this: “Yi Lin, get up”, my aunt’s voice would greet me at 6:30am through a small cracked space between the door. Second came breakfast. I would usually get a piece of "cake"(which is their version of wonder bread) and green tea or a glass of milk. Sometimes, I would eat stale cereal or this pyramid looking type of dessert with sweet red beans. My aunt would always stare at me with fascination that a white person could actually, drum roles please…. EAT! She would then ask me, “How do you feel?” – this is chinglish, meaning “do you like it?” An umbrella, a bus pass and a bottle of water would be thrown into my bag and a wave of goodbye sent me to the university for a full day of training. I would get back around 5:30 and have dinner at 6:30. Dinner was my favorite part.

One thing I cannot deny is that my host mother was an amazing cook! Chinese food is not easy to make, especially trying to add all those spices and cooking in the small kitchen with the bear necessities. We would have about 3 to 4 plates in the middle of the table. Chinese style eating is communal, which means “your germs are my germs”.  You use your own chop sticks to pick at the dishes, and you just keep going back and forth. Every meal is served with a small bowl of rice (mifan wan). I have had 60+ days of eating rice for each dinner meal.

My host sister was the one who could speak English. When we were sitting around the dinner table she would ask me questions about America and the American culture. The questions and comments often made me giggle because they were naive and mostly because they thought it was so much better in America, or that everything was free. Here are a few questions I was asked:1. All Americans have perfect teeth, right? 2. Going to the Doctor is free , right? 3. Do you have any religious beliefs? 4. Why do people have religious beliefs? 5.Not a lot of Americans have eye glasses. 6. They all like coke and eat fast food everyday.

What they know about Americans is just from the media and what they heard of from the grape vine. It was always stressed during training to be a good representative of American culture by dressing professional, trying to integrate and have a mutual understanding of eachothers' culture. In a way, no one wants to be responsible for all of that as a sole individual to represent ALL of  America, but when asked questions about America and you hear statements that couldn't be farther than the truth, you bounce up at the first opportunity to say it how it is, and so I did. Just as they were amazed by my routines, traditions and culture, I was amazed with theirs.

My host dad was obsessed with tea. I mean he had huge amounts of it stored beneath the coffee table with every type imaginable. Offering tea is symbolic to respect of the household and host of the family. The tea set was beautiful. It contained miniature cups, brushes and rocks. I asked why he would cover the rocks with tea and than brush it, so that the tea would spread all through out the rock and cleanse it. He said that "tea is a rock's best friend". Among other things I learned while living there was calligraphy. He would always show me pictures he took since he loved photography and one of them was of calligraphy. Right then and there he decided to show me how to do it. I spent most of the morning practicing words he wrote down, including my own name in Chinese while my host sister was inspecting errors and my host mother leaning over and smiling.. It was my favorite moment with my host family. My experience with my host family was definitely one that will remain with me as one with great significance to my future stay in China. If all families are like this, sign me up again for two months!