Chapter 3

I think I should add some names to this story. Mainly city names. Also mainly because this chapter is kind of bland. It may or may not deal with what I would describe as a depression episode on account of having survived a huge disappointment of not seeing mom. 

Anyhow, my paternal grandparents lived in Bei Dai He and my maternal grandmother lived in Shen Yang. As I mentioned, paternal grandparents were in a rural place. I was the coolest kid in my class, the one I rarely attended, all because I had a scooter. The place was isolated and very poor but it was my home while I gained sentience. It meant something to me. Now, I was in a new place and had to make new friends and get along with a new neighborhood. The only company and solid adult figure was now just grandma. She was…well…she wasn’t very helpful.

I often found myself daydreaming about my paternal grandparent’s house. It was a poor place, yes, but it had a certain charm to it. Unlike the American farmlands you see on television, Chinese farmlands were small and rugged-looking. There was plastic everywhere holding up various vegetables and makeshift rain collectors spread out in an always unorganized fashion. Still, I missed it. 

A frequent memory I started to feel more and more sad to think about was the one birthday I had at paternal grandparents’ place. The short version? I got driven an hour to go to a McDonalds in a nearby town. When it happened I was out of my mind because I had never had so much fun. After the day was over this incident became the talk of the town for like a week also. People in the school I rarely attended were asking me how it was and what kind of games I played in this magical place with golden arches. I remember how happy I was from becoming famous for something so trivial. This was partially due to the fact that any American fast food chain in a rural Chinese neighborhood was like a michelin restaurant. In truth, all that happened at the McDonalds was I got a happy meal and got to pin the body parts on a Grimace made of velcro. I know as an adult this seems stupid. But you had to be there. Oh boy, that was the shit. It’s kind of funny how a core memory can be formed from a small trip to McDonalds but when you’re a kid, these things matter. I really liked all the attention I got because god knows I was deprived of it. 

None of that anymore though. I am now living with my maternal grandmother. We were in Shen Yang, a relatively urban city. My maternal grandfather had been an army general of sorts who got a decent ranking. When he passed, he left my maternal grandmother with an apartment registered to the army located in the heart of downtown. It was cozy and large. Though it was often empty. Occupied by only my maternal grandmother. 

My grandmother had some day to day activities but they were rarely very exciting. She never worked a day in her life after all. When she was young she was pampered. When my grandfather passed she had enough finances from his estate to go on living without much worry. She did singing and sometimes played the piano. She didn’t really care much for me even though I was her favorite grandkid. I don’t think she knew how to take responsibility for people. I can also say that I wasn’t the only one to feel this way. Later on in life, my mom would tell me the exact thing. She said that maternal grandma didn’t do well as a mom because she never cared about her kids. I listened to that story with some thoughts. The first was that if this was the case why the hell did you leave me with her? The second thought was wow, the Asian pear doesn’t fall far from the tree huh? Between you and me, I think I was also only grandma’s favorite grandkid because I was the youngest and looked the cutest. 

I did go to school regularly in Shen Yang during this stay with grandma but if I am being honest, it was forgettable. I never really made that many friends and once again, I also don’t really recall anything I did in school. There was even a field trip and pictures of me on the field trip but I don’t recall a single thing. I don’t know what grade it was and didn’t know any of the subjects given but I do recall 2 things I learned from my time at school there. 

The first was that no one had taught me anything about learning. I learned my multiplication tables from my paternal grandparents but that’s about it. I didn’t know how to write, how to read, nor how to speech goodly. This brings up the second thing. I didn’t know how to make friends either. I had been friends with dogs for the majority of my consciousness and who the hell knows how people work? If that wasn’t enough problems, I was also joining the school year half way through. This meant most people already had friend groups and knew the school subjects well. I didn’t hang out with much of anyone. This is probably one of the reasons why this period was so forgettable, it was just the same old boring thing as Bei Dai He but with no dogs and a much more boring guardian. 

Outside of school, luckily there was some more excitement and memorable events. When I wasn’t in class, I was hanging out with my two cousins, T1 and T2. T1 was 7 years older than me and T2 was 3 years older. T1 was the genius of the trio and would later become an engineer. T2 and I never truly had that much interaction even during the early years and I can’t say for certain I know him that well. Despite being the main friends I had when I was younger, I had very limited interactions with them. We mostly just talked about random animes that I never watched or played with action figures. When that got boring, we started getting a bit into gundam building. My uncle and aunt only dropped them off with grandma once in a while. I remember being jealous of them for having 2 parents around because I was there with none. It kind of irritated me when I heard them complaining about having troubles with aunty or uncle. I felt like they were spoiled but I kept it to myself. I couldn’t afford to be on the bad side of the only friends I had. Aside from the usual shenanigans we got up to, my time in Shen Yang wasn’t very spectacular in any way. The feeling of needing mom was starting to disappear. Then, one day, I woke up and realized that I really didn’t care when mom was going to come back. I was going to focus on my own things. If I had to describe it, I’d say that I have had so much of my childhood in the absence of parents that I seemed to have grown up. While this may sound healthy, you’ll soon see that it plays into that theme of selfishness I brought up a bit earlier. 

Most people on social media or just regular media these days like to idolize those who are orphans. Batman was an orphan and so was Superman. It almost seems you can’t be a superhero these days without having dead or absent parents. Truth is, they were not really orphans. No one truly writes true orphan stories. Batman had Alfred and Superman was literally raised with parents who offered the best American childhood possible. In reality, when you grow up as an orphan or grow up in the absence of your parents, you learn how to be selfish, a trait I’m still struggling with as I now write this in my late 20s. You can also rephrase this to say that you grow up very self-centered. You had to do it that way because no one else was watching your back. You learn that the other people’s values and desires are always secondary and this can really mess up your romantic life in the future. The other thing with being selfish? You become obsessed with your own life.

I think my biggest criticism for this entire book, which in itself would be a reflection of my life, is that I am incredibly critical about it. I used to think being so self conscious was a good thing. You can keep yourself in check. Now that I am older, I think being self conscious is a very ego-centric way of viewing the world. I care so much about my own life that I would analyze it again and again and again, obsessed with myself. After a bit of time, you find that you trust the things you know the most about. If the thing you know the most about is yourself, you start distrusting everyone else. Shouldering all the responsibility to yourself thinking only you can do something about anything. Not the healthiest thing to work on but also not the worst traits to aspire to. 

Is it a good motto for life? Who can say? Taking responsibility for everything in the world does have its good merits in society and I would be lying if my successes later in life were not attributed to the trait of shouldering responsibility. Responsibility is a strong drive and a good one at that for keeping you a functioning member of society. It also gives you discipline and allows you to achieve your goals with vigor. 

Anyhow, back to the story. 1998 quickly turned into 1999 and it was around this time my mom told me she wasn’t coming to visit. She had decided to try and bring me over to Canada instead. The process would take a bit of time but eventually all things were processed and I was sent on my way, once again, to go on a plane by myself. This time the plane ride was much longer and I didn’t have an air hostess watching over me the entire time. It was okay though, I must have slept the entire plane ride anyhow. That wasn’t the biggest difference from the last plane ride though. The main difference from the last one was that I didn’t have this urge to see mom anymore. I felt like I was just going with the flow. Whatever people told me to do, I did. That was it. I was now simply following a long line of orders from a parent who I’ve grown to know very little about. 

My mom would tell a story about how when I got to see her at the airport I ran to her and hugged her right away. She then would say how the customs officer was trying to pull us apart but let us be when they saw how happy I was. This seemed like an American feel good movie ending. The only problem is, I have no recollection of this memory at all. All I seem to recall was that after I landed, I saw snow for the first time. 

After that, I was now suddenly living in a small apartment in Toronto. We resided on the corner of Midland and Eglington. The place was smaller than grandma’s and even then, we had to share it with 2 roommates of mom’s.