Why I am no longer Chinese

Even though I was born and raised in Taiwan until the age of eight, I never understood the distinction of being Taiwanese versus Chinese until well after college. All self-proclaimed Taiwanese people came from China, so what was the big deal? My grandparents came to Taiwan from the mainland, so I was always branded as a mainlander versus being “native” Taiwanese, even though the only people who can truly claim to be “native” Taiwanese were the aborigines (analogous to the actual “Native” Americans). 

Then I visited China. 

My first trip was in 2007, and subsequent to that I have been back five times, of which three times were for work. It wasn’t until after my second trip, though, that I realized just how different China was from Taiwan. I began to understand at least part of the reason why Taiwanese people are so vehemently opposed to being called Chinese, and from that point on I decided that I, too, would identify myself as Taiwanese rather than Chinese.  

Why, you ask? From all external appearances, China doesn’t look all that different than Taiwan. In fact, one of my friends had remarked that Beijing looked generally newer and nicer than Taipei (this was after Beijing hosted the Olympics, so the government had done some major cleanup). While I agreed with her, the fact remains that the Chinese people as a whole are generally uncivilized and rude, and the government has been largely ineffective in making Beijing (and the rest of China) actually nice. 

Don’t get me wrong, though – I have nothing against Chinese people as individuals, and have met many perfectly friendly, polite, and civilized Chinese nationals. As a people, however, the Chinese make China a less-than-desirable place to live. And in fact, I would never recommend China even as a tourist destination (Hong Kong may be the only exception). 

The biggest difference I noticed between China and Taiwan (and the rest of the civilized world, for that matter) was what little regard Chinese people have for lines or order of any kind. People regularly cut in line, whether at the supermarket, any tourist destination, the subway, or other transit hubs. Case in point: I saw some Chinese national try to walk past airport security without showing his credentials. And I’ve been to restaurants where the waiting list “system” consists of standing next to a table you think might finish next and sitting down as soon as the people get up from their seats, all the while fending off other people who arrived after you and are standing next to the same table. 

My most recent trip only confirmed my worst suspicions about China. I spent ten full days in Zhengzhou for work, and I was very much sick of China by the end of my trip. In fact, on my last full day I confined myself to the hotel and ordered room service for all three meals. Sad, I know, but necessary to maintain my sanity. 

Normally I love exploring and walking around whenever I visit some place new, but in Zhengzhou even walking on the sidewalk is a serious hazard to your health. I’m told it isn’t like this elsewhere in China, but in Zhengzhou motorcycles and bicyclists “share” the sidewalk with pedestrians. And by “share” I mean they ride on the sidewalk while you play real-life frogger and avoid getting run over. Needless to say, crossing the street is also dangerous because there’s no such thing as pedestrian right-of-way, even when there’s a green light signaling otherwise. 

Taxis present their own challenges. In big cities like Beijing and Shanghai, it’s almost impossible to get a taxi, and when you are finally able to flag one down, there’s a high likelihood that the driver will either not know where you want to go (since they’re typically not from the area), take you in some long roundabout way to your destination (to get more money out of you), or refuse to go where you want to go (since it’s too inconvenient or far from where they want to go). One time it took me almost an hour to flag down a taxi that knew where I wanted to go. Plus – and I find this the most frustrating – they always operate with the windows down since actual A/C would consume more gas. This bothers me most because the pollution is atrocious in China, and Zhengzhou was no exception. I couldn’t even get refuge in the restaurants I ate at because there were always people smoking indoors (thankfully you couldn’t do this inside the hotel I was staying at).

There are many other observations and questions I have about China, but I think I will save it for my book (coming out later this decade). In short, it’s too bad that I feel the way I do about the land of my grandparents, and it’s also too bad that China is the way that it is. Either way, I have decided to no longer call myself Chinese.