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.

Sorry, what ethnicity did you say you were again?

I have been told countless times that studying abroad is an opportunity that every college student must experience. So like any advice-adhering undergrad, I decided to study abroad this summer. After poring over dozens of study abroad websites, I had narrowed down to two places: Sydney, Australia or Shanghai, China. In the end I chose Shanghai because I prized learning about my cultural roots and improving my mandarin skills over broadening my experience in journalism. I felt confident in my choice and secure based on the generally comforting thought that I would fit in more easily and avoid any racial issues in China as opposed to Australia. Now that I am back from my study abroad experience, I realize that I shouldn’t have been so quick to make such generalized assumptions. Don’t get me wrong, I had the most amazing time in China. Not only did I study at Fudan University in Shanghai for seven weeks, one of the top universities in the country, I also managed to squeeze in weekend visits to amazing places such as the West Lake of Hangzhou and Hainan, also known as the Hawaii of the orient. The last week of our program was devoted purely for travel to Beijing and Xian. It was truly fantastic to go from sipping cocktails on the bund in Shanghai to climbing the Great Wall in Beijing. The traveling and amazingly fun parts of my study abroad experience were exactly what I had imagined previous to my departure. What I hadn’t considered were the ethical issues that would arise when I told people in China that I was Taiwanese. For someone who knew about the issues between Taiwan and China since I was young, it was surprising that I had forgotten my Taiwanese background would elicit a negative response from various Chinese people. Many a conversation with the Chinese locals would go something like this: the local would ask where I was from, after watching me speak English with the friends on my program. I would inform the person that I was from America to which they would reply, “But you don’t look American.” This simple, unknowing question unpleasantly surprised me to the fact that some people still think “Americans” are all blonde haired and blue eyed. The conversation continues to go downward when I explain to the local that I am Taiwanese American, and that my parents immigrated from Taiwan to America when they were young, thus explaining my looks. Wrong move. First, most Chinese locals did not like the fact that I referred to myself as Taiwanese. A bus driver even told my Taiwanese American friend to remember that he is in fact, Chinese. This is because they feel that Taiwanese people are Chinese, and by declaring ourselves as Taiwanese, we are implying that there is a difference. Secondly, the Chinese locals seemed to regard Caucasian Americans as a cause for a scene, and quickly shoved my black haired, brown eyed self to the side whenever I was with my other friends. To be honest, I was considerably offended by this attitude during the first two weeks of my stay in China. However, I figured that my ethnicity was not a bad thing, and the fact that there was been an ongoing controversy between China and Taiwan was not something that I was single-handedly capable of solving. Therefore, whenever I was asked what ethnicity I was, I would continue to look people in the eye and say, I am Taiwanese American, and brace myself for whatever reaction they decided to give me. Fortunately, not all of them were negative, and some people accepted it without a second thought. As for me, I had a clear conscience because I was proud of my ethnicity. I didn’t want to lie about it to avoid any unnecessary ridicule. My friends and I were sitting at Starbucks when we overheard a couple explaining to their friend about where they were from. “Well, we’re American but we tend to tell people we’re Canadian when we’re traveling just because Canadians have a better reputation at the moment.” One of my friends turned to us and said, “Those people are cowards. Julienne always tells people that she’s Taiwanese.” Julienne is back in California for the rest of the summer working on her travel blog of China. Her personal work can be found on issuu.com/julienne in a few weeks.

Taiwan Blog II

I definitely didn't follow up on my promise to update consistently. The good news is that when you're working in Taipei, despite how fun it is, the weekdays are pretty uneventful because you're so tired when you come home. I am already in America now so I'll scrap the date format postings and just give recollection of some of my thoughts on main locations. Ximending- I worked here during my first week at a candy store. This is basically the consensus hangout place for most teenagers and college students. It's also known as the "harajuku of Taiwan." I was not particularly impressed with the food (I opted to eat at McDonald's almost every day for my lunch break), but this place packed killer bubble tea and Taiwan snacks everywhere I visited. Ximending is flooded with people especially in the evenings and weekends. The shopping is great with very cheap stuff, but still just as fashionable. The kids here have a distinct fashion taste that is very Japanese pop culture. This shopping district is home to a few gangs and some shady people so I believe that one should travel with a friend especially in the evenings. Don't let this keep you from visiting such an energy-packed place though. I-Lan - I visited here with my aunt, uncle and cousins. Taiwan is a mix of beautiful nature and efficient cities. The mountains of Taiwan are home to many aboriginal tribes and hot springs. We climbed up the mountain (they have stairs!) and from near the top I could see the wispy clouds hovering near the ledges. My description doesn't do justice. You have to see it to believe it. Sun Moon Lake- Another wonder of nature. Sun Moon Lake is a huge lake in Taiwan with many little islands in it. My grandparents and I stayed at a hotel with rooms facing the lake. This lake is home to many fishermen and is a hotspot tourist attraction for the Taiwanese. The hotels are mostly classy 5-stars and the vendors on the streets sel some delicious seafood. We took a tour of 3 islands with their tourboat and saw some temples and hiking attractions. I was surprised at the completeness of this tour. It lasted for 1.5 hours and we were allowed to stop at each island and explore for 15-30 minutes. In America, whenever I take these kinds of tours, they finish in 30 minutes and I leave feeling like I didn't learn much. My next and final post will be a reflection of various small things I've noticed at my stay. Justin hails from the Midwest, but looks forward to his yearly visits to Taiwan because he oftentimes crosses paths with his Taiwanese American friends on the MRT. It's a small world after all.

Yes We Can

The One China Policy. The Taiwan Relations Act. Arms sales. WHO. TIFA. High-level visits. I can already imagine a collective, good-humored groan from the Class of 2008 Ambassadors. As part of the Formosa Foundation's Ambassador Program, I had an amazing time in Washington D.C. learning the nuances of U.S. foreign policy in regards to Taiwan and bonding with people from so many different walks of life! The program helps to break down the wall that exists between elected officials and ordinary citizens and encourages dialogue and mutual understanding among its student participants. It was a thrill for me to be able to speak to members of Congress about current Taiwan-related issues and to have the opportunity to voice my own opinions. But most importantly, the program helped me learn about myself and why I as an individual matter in the grand scheme of things. This is where it gets personal. I now understand that the Taiwanese American identity of the second generation is a narrative influenced by, yet still distinctly different from that of first generation Taiwanese. As Americans we don’t live under the constant fear and tension of martial law. Instead, our narrative includes stinky tofu, boba pearl milk tea, TASA, and Jay Chou. But it’s also much more than that. To me, being Taiwanese American means understanding the history and culture of Taiwan and being proud of how far Taiwan has come. Essentially, you don’t have to be pro-active about Taiwanese politics, but it’s necessary to be pro-active about being Taiwanese American. Nowadays we enjoy freedoms unfathomable to those in Taiwan who were silenced by fear during the White Terror. We have the power to talk about our history, how far we’ve come, and what the generations before us went through. Thus we cannot continue the silence of our parents and grandparents. Our narrative is a unique mixture of Taiwan’s history, Taiwanese and American culture, and the values of both countries. It is a continuation of the first generation, but it’s also an identity in which we as a community need to embrace and fulfill. Talking about Taiwan or identifying yourself as Taiwanese American transcends politics and shouldn’t be considered taboo or controversial. A vital aspect of our narrative is to be proud of our heritage, forget individual political affiliation, and celebrate and spread awareness of Taiwan’s history and success. During the 1960’s, the Taiwanese in America were effective in bringing attention to issues that were important to their community: the struggle for democracy in Taiwan. Now in 2008, as second generation Taiwanese Americans, we have just as much power to tell the story of Taiwan and to make it a part of our own narrative. Formosa Foundation Ambassador Program Visit the Formosa Foundation website at: http://formosafoundation.org Erica is back in Los Angeles after two hectic, fun-filled weeks in Washington D.C. She misses all the friends she made through the Ambassador Program and encourages anyone who is interested in politics, Taiwan, and making rap videos about current issues to apply next year!