How Do You Say "Taiwan" in French?

“Je suis américanne,” I insist, but the question always follows. I’ve arrived as an American in France, but each French teenager I meet insists on asking about my heritage and where my parents came from. I guess it’s reasonable to wonder, since I don’t resemble the white Caucasians that make up a majority of the country’s population, though it gets tiring to say over and over again, that yes, I was born in the United States and I am American. On one hand, I’m glad they don’t identify me with the rude tourists that usually come from our country; but on the other hand, the question puts me in a bit of a quandary. I don’t even know how to explain my heritage in English or Chinese, much less in French. It’s a long, complex history- never meant for simple introductions, unless I wanted to incite a political debate. And so, I opt for the simple. I’ve known from day one that I am Taiwanese American, something that has been long entrenched in my identity and my family. I’ve grown up on the sidelines of protest rallies and in the tents of cultural festivals, participating in a Taiwanese community where my parents are the instigators, the leaders, and the most fervent supporters. But although this is my background, it’s not something easily shared. I hate telling someone I’m Taiwanese American, then having to follow up with a geographical lesson about the location of Taiwan when they have no idea where it is. And even more, I hate being pulled into a totally unnecessary political discussion about China’s territorial claims over the island, when all I want to do is meet the person first. They say politics is a bad topic for a first date, but what about a first introduction? A first conversation? It was easier back when I was in London, speaking my fluent English and surrounded my some of the brightest minds in the world. There I could say that I was from Taiwan, and there would be no puzzled looks or double takes. At The Economist, we would even discuss upcoming stories about Taiwanese and Chinese relations, pointing out they were signs of a détente between the countries. But since then, I’ve completely changed worlds. These French teenagers are simply relaxing on the beach, playing some rugby, and hanging out with their friends, without a care in the world. They’ve been nice enough to come over and attempt to understand my slow American-style French. And I really want to make a smooth introduction. So I tell them my parents are from China. Something tells me that my parents, across the world right now, would be disappointed in those words. They’ve spent their entire lives trying to make me understand what it means to be Taiwanese American. And in a sense, I’ve betrayed that, though I’ve justified it any every way possible. I know my ancestors came from China, that they migrated across the Taiwan Strait less than a century ago, so they technically were from China. And the French, who love to discuss politics, have not recognized the independence of Taiwan. Finally, we'd only learned how to say that we were Chinese in French class, but never how to identify ourselves as Taiwanese. Still, I know all those excuses are moot because what has always been most important is that we, as Taiwanese Americans, promote our own country, even if no one else will. I’ve since learned the French name for Taiwan, and as you would guess, it’s the same word. If it helps, the article for the country is feminine, as in “la Taiwan.” And though I’m still learning to say it, still readying myself to make such a leap of faith across cultural distinctions- both across the Atlantic and the Taiwan Strait- I know the words in my heart, “Mes parents viennent de la Taiwan.” I know it, my family knows it; but whether the world needs to know it- that’s what I’m trying to decide. Lisa is still toughing it out in Europe, language barriers and all. After spending two weeks interning at The Economist office in London, Lisa is currently enrolled in a study abroad program in Arcachon, France. She will return from her travels in the fall for her senior year at Saratoga High School.