Asian

I was at the Asian market on 9th South with Ruby, Ari and Xanthe after Lenore's tea.  A guy who works there, who is Vietnamese-American, came up to us and tousled Xanthe's hair.  He bend down and said to her, "Hey!  Where you from?"  (Which is such a taboo question.  Never say that.  Please.  A lot of people who don't look like you are from right where you're from.)  Despite his somewhat inarticulate question, it resonated differently coming from one Asian to another.  He was saying, "We're the same" instead of saying, with the same words, "You're different."  Even so, Xanthe didn't know what he meant.  She looked at me and I restated it the way I would ask it.  "He means, what is your ethnic background?"

Xanthe was still confused, so I told the guy, "She's Chinese."  I thought it was sweet of him to notice Xanthe and speak to her, to acknowledge, "Hey, you're Asian like me."  He's a nice kid.

Later in the car, Xanthe asked, "Why did he say that to me?"  I told her, "He's Asian, and he probably noticed you were Asian too, and he wanted to talk to you."  She squinted, then shrugged, "How did he know?"

Xanthe, Xanthe, Xanthe.  She is such a funny, sweet, crazy girl.  She knows she is Chinese inside.  I think she forgets, though, that she is Chinese on the outside, too!

Since we were in the neighborhood, we couldn't resist the pull of Oh Mai.  This market is next door and has the best house-mixed spices.  I chose some Iraqi curry and grabbed some Oh Mai to take home.

To thunderous applause, I might add.  Delicious!  I think our whole family might be a little bit Asian...on the inside. ;)

o8-o8-o8

Everything looks brighter, more inspiring and more incredible after the Olympic Opening Ceremonies. The impossible seems attainable, and the Human spirit has shown its best side, making Humanity seem ingenious, wise and peace-loving. If we could hold onto that ideal, our eyes would be open to so much more.

Of all the moments where I stared in wonder during the opening ceremonies, just a few keep touching my heart. I loved the lone Palestinian athlete, Nader Almassri, carrying his country's flag with fear, pride and insecurity written on his face. He walked solo into the world's arena, where most people only know of his people's most radical terrorists, the PLO. Waiting to be judged by the crowd must have been terrifying. Add the fact that he prepared for the Olympics without the benefit of even an Olympic-sized pool to train in. He carried a whole nation's pride on his ill-equipped shoulders, and for that, he is a hero.

Another image that spoke volumes was the Japanese contingent, each one of them carrying both a Japanese flag and a Chinese flag, as if to erase centuries of animosity between the two nations. What a brilliant statement of the Olympic spirit.

I wanted to give a medal to Lopez Lomong, an American runner who was one of the "Lost Boys" of Sudan. He has already run far enough, just running from genocide and deprivation, to earn a place in history. A Sudanese representing the U. S. in Beijing is absolutely remarkable in 2008. It gives me hope that we can overcome violence.

When I see the humble pride the Chinese have in these games, the intense preparation the athletes have endured, the incomparable way they are pulling off these Olympics, I feel a sense of kinship with them. Their story is Xanthe's story, and therefore, ours. Through the generations, part of our family will be Chinese-American, forever. That is a legacy Xanthe brought with her as a gift to us, to tie us to a people who have thousands of years of ingenuity, strength and wisdom behind them, pushing them into the future ahead of the rest of us. I am proud of and awed by the Chinese as a people. Take a closer look beyond politics and you'll be humbled, too.