O Canada Part IV - Y.A.N.A. (Final Thoughts)

Our last night with my relatives, my uncle's three sons came over for dinner with their wives and children.  Actually - that was a neat little shocker.  "Surprise!  You're an auntie, Vic!  Kind of makes you feel old, doesn't it."

(OK, technically - first cousin, once removed, but it was a heck of a lot easier to say "Aunt Vicky", and given the age difference, made a lot more sense to the kids.)

I was pretty nervous to meet them, and reasonably so, I think.  Remember - I hadn't seen these people in twenty-some years.  That means I went from a toddler to a grown-ass-adult in their eyes.  What would we even have in common?  Meals from previous nights were mostly silent on my end - my uncle's English is pretty good, but he was much more apt to use Mandarin around my mother and aunt.  Though I understood maybe 60% of the conversations, I certainly couldn't participate.  Would I sit awkwardly in silence again tonight?

Fortunately, all my cousins spoke perfect English and tended to switch back and forth with each other, their spouses, and their children.  Also fortunately, the middle of the three brothers was pretty loquacious.  And quite fortunately, it is impossible not to talk about babies when small children are present.  Toddlers and baby-talk:  the great equalizer.

ERMEGERD I JUST WANT TO PINCH THOSE CHEEKS

In my uncle's living room, watching my cousins and their children laugh and converse just like every other family, slightly neurotic, yet in their own lovingly quirky way, and having them invite me to join their conversations, I had an epiphany.

I have been unnecessarily isolating myself for years.

Let me explain, in that very roundabout-way-of-leading-up-to-the-point thing I always do.  At the risk of sounding bass-ackwards racist, one of my first impressions of Toronto, based on the breakdown of peoples around me in the train station, was literally this:

It wasn't even as if we were in Chinatown or some Asian community.  Every touristy locale that we visited, the Asian:Caucasian ratio was astronomical in comparison to any place I have ever lived.  I shouldn't have cared as much as I did.  But there you go.  It was like Tarzan seeing humans for the first time.  There.  I said it.  I was excited to see people who looked like me.  But you know what?  It was still the loneliest feeling in the world.

I wrote an entry awhile ago about wanting to learn Chinese.  It wasn't just because I felt weird about not understanding my parents.  It was because I felt disconnected from the world.

Growing up, I was told that because I was in such a non-diverse community, the non-asian people in my life would always subconsciously see me differently because I wasn't like them.  They would never be able to get that close to me because I looked different, and deep down, was very much a bit different.  On the flip side, the place where I grew up wasn't exactly the center of the Orient, so I rarely made any Asian friends, and unlike the other few Chinese people I knew, I was never sent to Chinese school.

I was also told something else - that my family was the important thing in my life.  Family ties were supposed to be stronger than steel, and I could rely on them for anything.  Despite that, I met my extended family at a time when I was too young to form real memories or bonds, and due to some strained relationships, was denied most other opportunities to visit.  Every so often, my family would drive into Chinatown to get groceries not available at the local market.  Of course, I'd be excited to see other Asians.  But then a sudden loneliness and embarrassment would overcome me.

There I was.  Ages 5-18 (and frankly - that same anxiety probably followed me through much of college).  Warned away from the connections available, and spurned from the ones that were supposed to be the best of my life.  Quietly surrounded by this imposing sense of detachment from everyone.

And yet, as my cherub-faced niece held out her hand for me to play with her, I felt joy bubble up in me.

Overall, Toronto was quite the experience.  It's not often a person gets to visit another country, even if it's just a border away.  And, frankly, it's rare I see my extended family, so that almost made it all worth the excruciatingly long drive back home.  Even if I don't see my nieces and nephews again until they're my age (though I really hope that's not the case), I think I'd be ok.

It's easy to let the world become too lonely if we let it.  And at the end of the day, no matter how I snarl, I don't think I want it to be.

"We are each of us angels with only one wing.  And we can only fly by embracing one another." - Luciano de Crecenzo.

Thanks for reading.

'Til the next.