Out and About in the Middle Kingdom - The 'V' Sign Voyage

I have a soft spot for China and was excited to travel there this summer.  I find Chinese people very warm, kind and welcoming. It doesn’t hurt to mention that I had a network of friends on the ground to show me around. And it also helps to mention that I had a decent exposure to Chinese people and culture from interactions with Chinese International students in my finance program at the University of Toronto. 

Physically, I knew I would stand out in some places, and with standing out, comes attention. I anticipated turning heads. How often that would happen is what I did not envision. I was not paranoid at all. I had a good a sense of what to expect and I was not shocked or disappointed. I had great experiences traveling in China. There are so many interesting things I wanted to blog about. I could talk about the high speed railway system, or just Beijing’s sophisticated subway alone (hello TTC!). I was going to blog about great Chinese dishes that I had, but I am not Anthony Bourdain. I can barely remember the names, let alone describe them. I could also talk about the incredibly old historic structures like the Great Wall, but they are too mainstream, much like how a visitor from Paris describing the Eiffel tower would be boring.  This is because images of these famous places are all over the internet for everyone to see.

 I will blog about the kind of attention I received while traveling in China. The Amount of pictures people took of me or with me was off the charts.  Here is picture of people taking pictures of me posing with children (or friends). 

Meja sandwich - the first of many, very many

I had my first pictures taken right at the airport. Told ya, it didn’t take long!  waiting for taxi cabs, I noticed a middle-aged couple standing directly across from me trying to take sneaky picture of me and failing. I spotted them. I did not give them the universal why-are-you-strangers-taking-a-picture-of-me stare; instead I posed and cheekily threw up the V sign. Noticing the friendly gesture, they let go of their suitcases and sandwiched me for a group photo. It was rather, a poorly made sandwich, one where the inner stuffings stick out of the slices. In other words, I was head and shoulders above them. 
I was tired. A nonstop flight across the world isn't the best preparation for a happy photo-shoot, but I smiled and let them have their way with me - take as many pictures as they wanted. As you will imagine shortly, pictures can be overwhelming if you are a low key introvert. Fortunately, I was mentally prepared and was up for it. I wasn't going to sulk and make them look silly in their pictures for being overly excited next to a cold stranger. I matched their enthusiasm. I prefer their interest than disinterest. As a culture junky curious about everything China, I figured the best way to understand China was to interact with the locals and go off the tourist beaten path. After all, no one wants to walk into a room only to see everyone exit. We all know the feeling when we get the impression that everyone wants nothing to do with us. Not fun at all. I was there to experience their culture and that can happen by talking to them ( or any make-do form of communication our language differences could allow). 
...I can relate

From the very start, I had the right mindset, It is not just in China that people are curious about different looking visitors, and want to take pictures with them. Below is a picture of me with some volunteer white teachers back in Kenya. I was in grade 5, I think. I just noticed I didn't look friendly at all in the picture (I've come a long way from being a socially-awkward pupil). Good for these volunteers, we didn’t have smart phones at the time. Film cameras limit the amount of spontaneous pictures anyone can take. We had to pay for then and they weren't cheap at the time. 

 These images of excited kids in red explaining how walipiga picha na mzungu (pictured with a white person) came to mind when I would be swarmed by thrilled Chinese tourists who each wanted a picture of me. I was thrilled as well. I had never imagined what it felt like to be a celebrity. You can’t step out wearing something compromising, it’s a photo shoot every day. You can’t blow your nose or someone will be right there showing you the video of the act. I am in a much better position to understand why Justin Bieber always gets in trouble with the paparazzi. Turns out fame has a downside too. Who knew? 

Look he is holding his chopsticks wrong!

We went out for dinner one evening. Our Chinese friends suggested spoons instead of chopsticks if we needed them. I opted for my chopsticks, like everybody else. I had used chopsticks many times in Toronto Chinatown. Besides, I am in CHINA! My ‘first’ use of chopsticks attracted a bit of attention. I noticed curious waiters watching me eat from the far corner of the room. As I later learnt, there is a textbook way of holding chopsticks here. Mine wasn't. I was holding my chopsticks ‘wrong’. The waiters were almost certain it wasn't going to be long before a dumpling would go tumbling down my chest. It didn’t happen; my ‘wrong’ grip still got the job done. I could see them exchanging delighted glances as if I had just successfully averted a disaster that was waiting to happen. 

…And then came the pictures, tons of pictures

When we would visit a small town or a popular tourist attraction, I noticed a pattern. Most toddlers would stop dead in their tracks at our sight – well, MINE. Jaws were dropping. Staring and double takes from adults became the norm. Because of my dark complexion, I always stood out of the populace like a sore thumb. At a crowded Tiananmen Square, it was clear that my 188cm lanky frame was also betraying my blending in efforts. People always spotted me miles away and alerted their friends or family to check me out. My stature is not significantly bigger than that of the average Chinese though.  Every time we visited an incredibly beautiful ancient temple or palace, we would do it injustice by taking away some of the attention it deserved. We somewhat felt like rockstars trying to pass for laymen at a football stadium only to have fans recognize them. Even the really disciplined soldiers always standing at attention would exchange a few omg-did-you-see-that facial expressions when I would walk by. Curious groups always found their way to where we were and took pictures of us, with or without our permission. None of which offended me. There is a really really limited list of things that offend me anyway. 

Fascinated Tourists at the Forbidden City

They were just naturally intrigued. It is understandable, not everyone lives in Toronto where all human phenotypes roam the streets. Even if there are no Harlems in China, black people can still be spotted in the big cities. There are many in Southern China, especially Guangzhou. Along with other foreigners, I later saw many black people in a shopping area called Sanlitun in Beijing. In many isolated parts of China it is rare to run into a black person, or a foreigner for that matter. I therefore excused the baffled gawking. Humans are curious by nature.  Personally, I would stare if I ran into a green person loitering at Toronto's Eaton Centre, or at least point them out to a friend so as to have a witness when I narrate the encounter to other friends later. Even better, I would need a photo evidence to back up my claim when I post about it on Facebook. As they say in social media, ‘pics or it didn’t happen’. Therefore, a camera would come in handy. And most of them had cameras or smart phones and they used them to photograph me. 

… and boy, did I see it coming?

I had done my homework. Of course, I always do *cough Cough*. Therefore, everything that was unfolding right in front of us was neither shocking nor very surprising to me. I expected the curious looks and obviously, the double takes. I had sought information on what it is like to be a foreigner outside the major cities in China. Most of the experiences I got on Google from foreigners in China were from white tourists and expats. I was going to be a foreigner too, but I would be kidding myself if I assumed my experience would be the same as that of a white Meiguoren. I was going to be Fēizhōu ren as I would later keep hearing whispered when we were passing by. I had dug up substantial information on China’s contact with black people, specifically African people. In China, black people are Africans by default. Good luck convincing the man sitting next to you in the train that you are actually from somewhere else. This assumption frustrates many Black Americans and Caribbeans, and definitely not me. I had read a lot. I learnt about Lou Jing, Jean Ping and Ding Hui aka Xiao Hei.  I needed to understand the general perception and prevailing attitude towards black people in China. Anything I could use to explain how and why people interacted with me in a given way. It would have been naive to later get on Baidu and look up, ‘why were people staring at me at the National Museum today”.  I needed to have these answers before getting on a China bound plane.

Decent person, right off the bat!

People I had just met and knew nothing about me trusted me straight away, or thought they did. Mesmerized strangers were still comfortable enough to wrap their arms around me when posing for pictures as if I was a lost cousin. How confident! It was more than I had bargained for coming in. In western culture, such kind of contact is reserved for very close acquaintances or family. 

Posing for pics with intrigued families

I enjoyed the blunt genuine comments and questions. In fact, I am more closer to the person who stares at me and ask why I am black than to the smiley one who says they don't see color but are really impressed when they notice I can spell my own name right. With very little political correctness, they acknowledged I was different but still didn't feel threatened. I am not a huge fan of political correctness, so I liked China even more. It warmed my heart when mothers would walk up to me and hand me their babies, like ‘here, take my baby, I will take a picture of you two’. It can be considered absurd in some cultures but I would smile and interact with them.  Some toddlers would face me and look me in the eye when I am carrying them.

 Why would they be so careless to look at the camera when my silhouette could peel off giving way to something unexpected while their parents are busy documenting the drama? That is wise in my book. Others would scrutinize my hand closely. There is that possibility of counting 6 fingers anyway. 

Generally, I was happy to help expose the little ones. I regarded it as responsible parenting when families would point me out to children. I lifted toddlers up and smiled for pictures not necessarily because I really love babies and would want to carry one around if given an opportunity. It is the unsolicited faith and trust they had in me, a stranger from across the world, which made me spare a few minutes of my time to interact with them. Love begets love. We could only communicate through signs as we always had no language in common. Here I didn't even have to sell myself to buy trust. How sweet! They knew totally nothing about me but still assumed I was harmless and could let their curious toddlers touch me, let alone lift them up 6 feet above the ground. In North America, I am used to deliberately or subconsciously carrying myself in a given way to signal for trust; play up my work and academic credentials. I imagine I come across a show-off at times, but I don't get the benefit of the doubt if I don't.  In China, it was different, people would be nice to me even when they had no incentive to do so.

Representative sample

Judging from their unfiltered but honest reactions in some places I visited, I imagined I was likely the first black person, or really BLACK person, they were seeing up close or meeting in person. Therefore, I felt a small responsibility to other black people. I wanted to be considerate, not ruin it for later black visitors. I was some kind of a representative sample.  An ambassador. A pioneer* ( there is a big asterisk on that word). Their experiences with me could influence how they treat the next black person they will meet. I did not want to shove photo-takers out of my way. I wanted them to be able to take home a picture of the happy smiling and friendly black guy they saw that day. I was not settling in China, so this was temporary problem.  A picture didn't cost me anything, other than a bit of time. Seeing someone so happy for just taking a picture with me felt really nice. I was effortless making someone’s day. Some laughed when I would do the "V"  sign like everybody else thinking I am mimicking them. They were right: I am a troll.                               

I had my small chance to experience fame and did not want to be selfish. I wanted to be approachable, warm and interesting. I didn't want pictures or videos of a rude and grumpy black person that happens to be me to pop up on weibo, renren, QQ or weixin that evening.  Negative stories travel fast on social media. And one person can dent a whole group's reputation. Stereotypes are real. 
 No pictures, you say. Lets see how that can work out

If you were not to approve strangers taking pictures of you, someone will innocently walk up to you and hold a camera to your face anyway.  What do you do? Chase them down and grab them by the neck and threaten to choke them to death if they didn’t delete the picture? Never mind if the photographer has Bolo Yeung’s physique. It also goes without saying that clips of you choking someone will later show up on TV. It is shooting yourself in the foot basically. 
Hello kids, I see you

With the attention I was getting, I developed a great sense of awareness of my surrounding, awareness of people pointing, giggling and smiling when they see me. While loitering through the dense Hutongs of China, I always tried to understand the type of reaction I was getting so as to respond appropriately. For instance, when I got stared at, I would wear a big smile and wave at them to break the ice. So amidst our chit chat, my friends would always catch me zoning out, smiling and waving ‘randomly’ into the crowd, oblivious of my target.

The little girl took off for the hill brother holding her back. 

When it was a scared child, I tried not to pass too close less it runs into the oncoming traffic. And that is murder in my hands right there! Well not really, manslaughter maybe, maybe not. I like play acting with kids but I could not afford to do anything dramatic. No one wants to deal with a heart attack case. When a kid is shell-shocked from just seeing you, the last thing you want to do is scare them, anything to confirm their worst fears.When I would say hello and wave at them, the courageous ones would wave back and smile. Others would quickly hide behind the adult travelling with them to avoid my eye contact. Only to peep to make sense of what they had seen. I would imagine them asking their mothers, ‘ma, they make 'em in that shade too?’

Hey, I saw what you did there, got ya!

Many people understand that taking a picture of a stranger makes them uneasy, so many had creative ideas of taking pictures of me. Some took pictures of me from behind when I was not looking. Someone would also walk too close to me and have a friend take the photo or a selfie, with me as the backdrop. Some would start filming ‘something’ in my path when they see me approaching and have me walk right into their picture frame.

I was cheeky. When I saw someone ‘secretly’ filming me, I would turn and face them and make the V sign. That is like saying hey, I see what you did there, you may as well come forward and take a clean shot. Realizing their cover is blown; they would grin, come forward and take the picture. Most were courageous enough to ask for permission though. Even better, when I was strolling and saw a guy alerting a friend, I would pause and wait until he looks my way. Then I would give them thumbs up like, ‘here I am the one he is showing you’. How embarrassing! I am weird. 

He is a celebrity, maybe?

I noticed that every time I would accept to pose with one person, it would be like opening flood gates. More and more people stepped forward from left and right to take pictures with me. Even more other picture taking gadgets would be pointed at me from different vantage points once they notice I was a fair game to film. I also saw some French tourists filming the whole encounter in one occasion.

This Tibetan elders took turns to pose with me 

It may have been the case that some who took pictures with me did so just because they saw everybody else doing. They probably didn’t want to bang their heads on the wall when they got home only to realize they had ignorantly passed up a free photo-opp with some famous black person. Could he be Usain Bolt? A CSL star? A rapper, maybe. Or a really vertically challenged and skinny NBA player. Who knows? 

Tailor made soldiers and the Forbidden City

I was watching soldiers parading in front of the Forbidden City. It was around 6pm. I felt a gentle touch on my left arm. Looking down, I saw a little girl, about 5 years-old standing between me and her father. She was determined to assure herself that the dark coat that was in place of my skin wasn’t actually permanent and could be removed if only I could scrub myself harder. I did not pull my hand. I extended it to her. I knew what was going through her mind. I had seen that movie before. She looked me in the eye and poked my arm, flinching a little. I looked down and smiled at her broadly. She smiled back, relieved that she hadn't punched a hole on my arm. Her father noticed what was happening and pulled her away. I told him it was just a learning process. I later had a similar experience while waiting in line to see Chairman Mao at his Mausoleum. A little boy I was carrying while her mother took pictures of us wondered why my hands (palms, actually) were ‘orange’ while the rest of my body was black. Everyone around us laughed. My friends translated it and I laughed too. It is a traditional question black people get. I remember reading about it in Luis Benardo Honwana’s Hands of the Black back in high school.

Wait, there is another heiren here?

I ran into another black person, a girl. She was African American of Sierra Leonean descent. She also had had her own equal share of pictures. We compared notes on our respective experiences . She talked of being petted; her hair being pulled. An artificially lengthened hair is a foreign idea in many parts of the world, so it was not surprising that her plaited hair drew attention. Her Chinese friends thought the number of people wanting to take pictures with her was ‘ridiculous’.

They thought the best way to use her 15 minutes of fame and cut down the number of photo requests was to charge 5RMB (= $1) for a picture with her. They made her a sign that she would show to would-be photo takers.  And believe me you, people were paying! She was fairly pretty and exotic to a Chinese eye. I mean who wouldn’t give up a dollar? I would take a sneaky picture of her if my ego got in the way of personally asking her to pose with me. Here’s a picture of us laughing about her silly sign. 

Look Changcheng! Great Wall! 
Most of the tourists on the Great Wall on that day were Chinese. Guess where I am going with this already? Every once in a while, we would be admiring the Great Wall as it gracefully meanders through the green hilly terrain and connects with the grey sky or disappears behind a distant hill.

With travel friends from Toronto

I would turn around to notice that other tourists had had enough of the Wall and were now staring at us instead. I could tell that some of them were keenly scrutinizing our discussions and mannerisms. It helps to mention that the two friends I went with were from the other two races, one Asian and the other Caucasian. A black, white and Asian trio is a really odd group to run into in rural China.I assumed most of the visitors were from really far - less exposed districts. The wowed innocent look on their faces gave away their limited exposure to groups like ours. Occasionally, some elderly men would stop by and speak to us in various Chinese dialects, some of which our Chinese friend could not understand, none of which I understood. 

Playing the cool-guy-pose on the great wall

We are all in this together!

 I always kept lagging behind to take photos with strangers. My friends always stopped to wait. I felt a little guilty for accepting all the photo requests. Pictures would go on and on at times especially when we run into a busload of tourists from a really small town. So once in a while I would pull the white friend into the pictures. He was a laowai too, I reasoned. I needed a little ground to share the guilt, like ‘we are all in this; they were stopping US all for pictures’.

with other volunteers from Toronto

Even with my effort, he would sometimes end up at the periphery of the pictures. He was getting a stepchild’s attention, much to our general surprise. It makes sense when you consider I was the only black face on the wall for the entire duration of our stay - about four hours. I guess they had seen a dozen tall white guys a few towers earlier, but the lanky black guy with a tiny Mohawk was too real a treasure to pass up.  It is a basic case of demand and supply, ain’t it?

… picha na mzungu reversed

At the end I would say in my stay in China, I never felt threatened or unsafe, if at all hostile body language is anything to suggest danger (or lack thereof). It is indeed, arguably, one of the safest places in which you can walk on the backstreets at night. I still don’t speak the language. My command of Chinese barely extends north of xièxiè. In other words, I can easily come off as a clueless foreigner, and that is enough to get you mugged in other parts of the world. China is relatively a very homogeneous country.

Yikui Wei, Uni friend/classmate playing the tour guide

Not to discount the fact that it is a huge country comprised of different subcultures, accents or regional dialects that may be hard to understand in other regions. Anyone looking different in most small towns is always a curious case to the local people and they want to come closer to you, interact and know more about you. So anything they know about black people can get the conversation off the ground before pictures – pictures with me.

Photos and more photos :P 

One can easily wonder why in this digital age anyone can be thrilled to see a black person. Asking that question is naïve in itself. Yes, there are millions of Chinese citizens affluent enough to travel around the world but there are millions more who don’t have the opportunity to travel outside China. Most Africans spend their whole lives in their home countries. Unless foreigners come to their villages, their perspective of the world is limited to what they can see around them. The experience of seeing something live is always greater than seeing the same thing on TV and most want to savor it.

Absolutely loved this family dressing

If I return ten years from now the encounters with video and cellphone cameras will be a thing of the past. I enjoyed my first visit. Maybe it would have been a little more fun if I was Kobe Bryant. I am asking for too much, don’t you think?

 If anything, I have learnt a lot here and maybe most of the people who interacted with me had a positive experience like I did. There's a difference between having pre-conceived notions about a given group of people from afar and actually getting to know someone at the individual level where you can really begin to connect and empathize as human beings. Even with a language barrier standing in the way, we could always agree how awesome Kawhi Leonard was in the last finals when he shut down Lebron James and dismantled his reign at South Beach. We have more in common than we think we actually have, and it becomes apparent when you approach individuals with an open mind.

I sometimes think about all the pictures I took with people I prefer not to call strangers. This week I was joking with one of my Chinese friends that he should be on the lookout, for pictures of me with cute little boys and girls will be on Chinese internet. 

kids and mom feeding their curiosity 

Well, maybe that is a bit of a stretch but you get the point, a ton of pictures. I wonder what they did with all those pictures of me lifting babies up and saying ‘cheese’ as thrilled parents took shots. Did they post them on renren or QQ? If they did, what did they say about me? Also, 20 years down the road, what will those toddlers-now-adults think of the black dude pictured carrying them in their baby photos? Maybe with the help of their parents, they too will have a story about me and the picture. I would love to read about or listen to their stories. I would love to listen to them narrate what their ‘first’ encounter with a black person was. Like Claude Mackay said in his famous poem, one day; I. SHALL. RETURN. to China. 

More Pictures from China