family Archives

To Have a Sister

Throughout my life I’ve had my existence attributed to my sister countless times. Here’s how the story goes: as an eight year old child, my sister Anna (who I’ve called Cici my entire life) pestered our parents for a baby. Eventually they succumbed and I was born, shortly after they made the move from Northern California to Northern Virginia.

I was raised in a two-parent home until I was six years old and our parents separated, but my sister always had an oversized influence on me. I remember being chased around the house as a child, being targeted by Cici, who would do things like tackle me, pin me on the ground, and tickle me until I couldn’t breathe and would start crying. Although our childhood together wasn’t unbroken because our parents separated when I was 6 (and she was 15), I remember when I stopped being the target of big sister when I reached adolescence. “We’re cool now” was the message, as I awkwardly reached adulthood and eventually grew to be bigger than everyone else. That was a turning point, where the days of me being the smaller subject was over. It was a long road, which began with me being dressed up like a doll by Cici as an infant, which made our father furious. These are priceless memories which I have no recollection of, other than seeing the photographs my entire life.

Cici is a force to be reckoned with. Because of the separation of our parents, she was forced to grow up quickly and develop a strong, independent spirit. I think she always had that, but it surely strengthened. I have this also, likely for the same reason, and in the past we’ve been at odds with each other. Mostly over trivial things: we had a major fight on a road trip in Australia over how much water I drank. It involved pulling over the car, yelling at each other, and swearing that we’d never do a trip like that again. If you have a sibling, you might be able to relate to that kind of petty bickering. Cici is not a tepid, passive person and neither am I.

China has a funny way of impressing the significance of having siblings. It was just one year before I was born that China enshrined its One Child Policy, coincidentally here in Chengdu. Were my family Chinese, I would not have been born. Almost without exception, people my age in China have no siblings. As a result many are spoiled and have an inflated sense of entitlement due to a childhood (and often adulthood) of coddling and helicopter parenting (this phenomenon is known as Little Emperor Syndrome).

I couldn’t be happier not just to have a sibling, but to have the one I have. I’ve had people tell me that they look up to my confidence and ability to confront adversity and accept challenge, but these people do not know Cici. If I’m ever in a post-apocalyptic survival scenario, Cici is the person who I’d want at my side, because she doesn’t quit. I love her.

Happy birthday, Cici.

Horseback with Cici as a child

Paris with Cici, 2015

Shanghai Scam: Like Father, Like Son

I stumbled upon a Reddit post today where expats in China are sharing their experiences of being swindled in China. It’s funny how the same scams are ever-present throughout the decades. Here was what I posted:

The first year that I was in China (in 2005, on the Coors Tour organized by Sascha) I was walking down Nanjing Lu in Shanghai when an English speaking girl approached me. She said she wanted to practice English, but I kept walking and answering her questions after saying that I wasn’t buying anything.

She offered to take me to a teahouse nearby and I said okay, so we go to the fifth floor of some random building and it’s an empty restaurant with a small cove that we were seated in. I check out the menu and it’s clearly bullshit prices but she continues talking and calls friends and says that others are joining us. I decline to order anything and she insists that this is rude – by this point I’m aware of what’s happening, but as she persists I excuse myself to leave as the situation becomes more awkward.

Before I can make it through the door frame, two Chinese guys come out of nowhere and are blocking my path. I got the impression that these were two “threatening looking Chinese guys” but I just laughed. Then they took me into a side room with people counting money in it and an old man told me he’d let me go for 500 kuai. I said no so he said 200 kuai. I held up my phone and said I was calling the police and then they opened the door for me to leave without saying a word.

Lesson learned. A funny coincidence is that almost the same thing happened to my father when he was in Shanghai in 1989. He ended up paying something like $50 for a bottle of beer though after being drawn inside by an English speaking Chinese girl.

Scammed: like father, like son.