故事13 | Joanne: F**k, I’m American | 厦门精艺达翻译服务有限公司

故事13 | Joanne: F**k, I’m American

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故事13 | Joanne: F**k, I’m American

我在中国的家 2022

故事13 | Joanne: F**k, I’m American

Joanne

2022-06-06

征文大赛，精艺达翻译公司，用翻译讲好中国故事，我在中国的家

作者：Joanne Ko
翻译：潘泽彬
校对：Luz、Zuzana、Joanne

F**k, I’m American
见鬼，我是美国人！

Sure, culture shock happens on both sides of a shore.
没错，文化冲击在大洋两岸都会发生

“Never go to China! You have no idea how dangerous China is. Promise me you will not go!” Having grown up Chinese in America, I attracted a lot of speculation about what China and Chinese people are supposed to be like. It’s as if people merely fill in a blank with any answers they presume appropriate. Although, this time, it was my Chinese mother who said this, and she was born and raised in China with pride and apparently fear of the China she once knew and left. The China that probably doesn’t exist anymore.

“永远不要去中国！你不知道中国有多危险。向我保证别去中国！”我是在美国长大的华人，从小听闻了很多关于中国的评论。人们评价中国时，就像在做填空题，只要他们觉得答案正确，就肆意填写。但这次是我母亲嘱咐我的，她也是华人，在中国出生长大。她对中国的认识还停留在过去，当时的她出于担心离开了中国。殊不知她脑海里的中国已经成为过去式。

Maybe it was for rebellion that I am here today.

也许是出于叛逆心理，我来到了中国。

Did you cry when you heard about it?” He asked.
“听到这番话你哭了吗？”他问道。
Maybe somewhere in my silent rage, there were some forms of tears.
也许我无言的愤怒就藏在泪水中。
“Well, I don’t blame you. America hates China.”
“嗯，我不怪你。美国讨厌中国。”
I didn’t know that anyone else noticed.
我不知道有人觉察到了这一点。
“I felt this, too, and I’m not even Chinese and I saw it. I came to China over 20 years ago and I was a rich, white man, and even I noticed IT!”
“我也感觉到了，即便我不是中国人，也看到了这一点。我 20 多年前去过中国，当时的我还是一个有钱的白人，连我都注意到了！”
Maybe what he said is only meaningful to me; this bit of reassurance that I wasn’t crazy.
也许他说的话只对我有意义；这一点让我放心，我没有疯。
He continued, “Listen, I’m old, so take my advice,”
他继续说：“你多听听我这个老人的建议吧。”
It’s true. He was really old. Possibly senile, too, but in this moment, he was very much together when he said, “Stay in China. China is great! Just stay here!”
没错。他真的老了，可能老糊涂了，那一刻，他满怀自信地说：“留在中国。中国很棒。留在中国！“

This was during China’s national lockdown where street riots and racial violence against Chinese and other Asian groups (mistaken for being Chinese) were rising outside of China, and in my home, San Francisco.

在中国封城期间，国外针对华裔和其他亚裔（被误认为是华裔）的骚乱和种族暴力正在上升，我的家乡旧金山也是如此。

If only it was that easy to “just stay here”, but was I looking for a second home, a home away from home? Or peace?

如果只是“留在中国”这么简单就好了，我要寻找第二个家，一个家外之家，一个和平之家。

“你是美国人，是吗？告诉我哪个国家更好？美国还是中国?” It got to where I wanted to avoid telling people I’m American. Ironically, this desire to lie about my identity is the same living in America, having to face questions like, “So what are you?” (As if ‘human’ wasn’t enough) “Where are you originally from?” (As if ‘I’ migrated) and “What are you originally?” (As if I somehow ‘changed’ races). Because in America, I cannot be American-I am Chinese, no matter how little I knew the Chinese language, the country and culture-and with the label ‘Chinese’ comes along all what people think of China and Chinese people, no matter how ignorant we both are. It’s a bit funny how I’m ‘Chinese’ in America, and ‘American’ in China. Like my Hash name, I seem to be ‘in the f**king middle’.

“你是美国人，是吗？告诉我哪个国家更好？美国还是中国？”没完没了的这些问题，让我不想承认我是美国人。讽刺的是，在美国我也不愿坦露我的国籍，但我不得不面对这样的问题：“你是什么？”（似乎我不是“人”）“你原本来自哪里？”（好像“我”移民了）和“你原本是什么人？”（好像我“改变了”种族）。在美国，我不被看成是美国人——因为我是华裔。即便我基本不会讲汉语，对中国文化也知之甚少，但我被贴上“中国人”的标签，无知的人们就会开始对中国和华裔评头论足。在美国我是“中国人”，而在中国我是“美国人”，这太可笑了。就像我的姓名一样，我似乎是“倒霉的中间人”。

My parents left China and returned as visitors only to find the streets of their hometown they grew up in, WeChat, and even the simplified written Chinese unrecognizable. They shared many wonders we foreigners have today like the driving style and why people suddenly stop walking once on an escalator. It was surreal to watch my Chinese parents be such strangers in their own home country.

我父母此番作为游客回到中国，发现他们早已不认识家乡的街道，也不懂什么是微信，甚至连简体字都无法阅读。他们也和外国人一样惊讶，惊讶于不同的驾驶方式，惊讶于人们为什么在自动扶梯上突然停下步伐。看着父母对自己的祖国如此陌生，我感受到了一丝魔幻色彩。

Maybe losing our original form is what the ‘melting’ means in the ‘melting pot of America’, especially in San Francisco, which is a beautifully diverse city, much like a city of several different countries weaved together through hilly streets. It is where many have ‘left their hearts in’ and fallen in love many times over as the city transforms with each decade. San Francisco is what I understood as a ‘melting pot’ when I first learned this term.

也许自我迷失就是“美国大熔炉”中“熔”的含义，特别是在旧金山，一个美丽的多元化城市，它像一个由不同的国家高低错落的街道交织而成的城市。旧金山每十年就会发生巨变，许多人“把心留在了这里”，并随着旧金山每十年的变迁，反复爱上这座城市。第一次学习“大熔炉”这个词时，我理解的就是指旧金山。

Although, despite how mesmerizing the image of many colors (nations) swirling and blending may be, it is not a ‘melting pot’. To me, the diversity of San Francisco is more like a mosaic; still beautiful but made from broken glass that was once something whole; now, in shards, sharp with a clear separation between each piece.

许多肤色（民族）交错融合的景象十分迷人，但旧金山并不是一个“大熔炉”。多元的旧金山更像是一幅马赛克，由破碎的玻璃组成，曾经完整，依旧美丽。现在，每一块碎片之间有着明显的分界。

“Go back to China! You are not welcomed here.” I wonder if these people who hold such intolerance would still bark this rude ejection like a damnation if they saw the real China.

“回中国去吧！这里不欢迎你。”如果这些心胸如此狭隘的人看到真实的中国，是否还会骂骂咧咧地赶我走呢？

Life in China is almost like a paradise, tranquil and safe. Where else could I leave my valuables out in a public space, leave, and come back only to find nothing stolen or vandalized; or walk freely any time of day without such worry for myself as well. People here have kindness and patience, many of whom would bend over backwards to help if I needed it. There is a great sense of community, one that is empathetic, and curious but hardly ever judging. I have felt so much freedom in China, more than I ever felt before, and I’m from the US, the supposed ‘land of the free’.

生活在中国简直像在天堂，宁静而祥和。在中国我把贵重物品留在公共场所，回来时没有任何东西被偷或者遭到破坏；一天中任何时候都可以自由出行，不必担心自身安全。人们都很善良，十分耐心，如果我需要帮助，许多人都会尽量施以援手。中国人具有很强的团体意识，有同情心和好奇心，但不会随意评判他人。我在中国感受到了前所未有的自由，自由度比所谓的“自由国度”美国还要高。

So “go back to China”? Sure, I’d love to, and maybe you should, too!

“回中国去”？当然，我非常乐意，也许你也该来中国看看！

“你是哪个国家的呢? 只是，你的感觉不像中国人…” They’re probably right. Culturally, I am an early ‘90’s baby’ growing up watching Saturday morning cartoons in my underwear while hoarding a stash of candy like prison money. I listened to N’Sync and the Backstreet Boys, which I remember us girls having a crush on Aaron and Nick Carter and wished my strict parents would let me go to a slumber party where typical pre-teen girls would paint each other’s nails, do our hair, and plan our weddings to one of the boyband stars. I also watched Nickelodeon and practiced WWE moves on my brother, which resulted in a different kind of beating from both him and my mother. At school and at home, I played kickball and baseball where my brother and I as kids used ping pong paddles instead of baseball bats. And as a teenager navigating the world of teen angst, what mostly filled my mind besides sex and suicide was the dreadful apprehension of what I want (rather need) to be for the rest of my life, and how I was ever going to become a capable adult. I am, in the end, a collective of all my thoughts, my actions and all impressions of everyone I have ever met. I am my own walking mosaic collecting pieces wherever I go.

“你是哪个国家的呢？只是，你的感觉不像中国人……”也许他们是对的。文化上，我是一个早期的“90 后婴儿”，周六早晨睡衣看动画片，像存狱金似的积攒糖果。我听超级男孩和后街男孩的歌，我们这些女孩非常喜欢亚伦和尼克·卡特（后街男孩成员），还希望父母能让我去参加睡衣派对。派对上处于青春期的女孩们会互相涂指甲油，做头发，幻想嫁给男团成员。我还喜欢看“尼克国际儿童频道”，在我哥哥身上练习摔角动作，结果被他和妈妈打得很惨。无论在学校还是家里，我都喜欢踢足球、打棒球，我和哥哥小时候会用乒乓球拍代替棒球棒。当时的我是在焦虑世界中航行的少女，除了性和自杀之外，我还充满恐惧，充满忧虑，忧虑我将来想要（而不是需要）成为什么样的人，忧虑我如何成为一个有能力的成年人。归根结底，我的所思所行，以及我遇到的每个人对我的印象，造就了现在的我。我是行走的马赛克，无论走到哪里都在收集碎片。

F**k, I am American, and I had to come all the way to China to learn this; not that I expect anyone to accept me as an American and not because of any conscious choice either, as if I get a choice.

见鬼，我是美国人，我不得不大老远跑到中国来学习这个。我并不期望任何人接受的美国人身份，因为我无法选择。

As if identity is easy to define, which it is not. But it’s there.

仿佛身份很容易定义，其实不然。但你的确有个“身份”。

*Sigh* I am not Chinese, and will never truly be Chinese, no matter how much I study the language and culture, or how much people insist that I am, and certainly not that I reject the Chinese identity.

*唉*我不是中国人，无论我多么努力学习汉语和中国文化，无论人们觉得我有多像中国人，我也永远不会成为中国人，但这并不是说我拒绝中国人这一身份。

I didn’t come to China for rebellion nor for peace. I’m here to make peace with myself, to harmonize the two cultural sides of a coin that may never meet eye to eye. But maybe after 3 years living a dream, I simply succumbed to the comfort of China and forgotten my mission to define myself until writing this essay and ruminating on how China helped me confront myself. Yet, like my parents who came back to China as strangers, I may return to San Francisco a much different person, maybe even still a stranger not recognizing a home I once knew, because some part of me has ‘melted’ somewhere else.

我来中国不是为了反叛，也不是为了安宁。我是来与自己和解的，是来让两种文化更加和谐的，而这两种文化就如一枚硬币的正反面，互不待见。3 年来，我生活在梦里，安逸于中国的舒适环境，忘记了寻找身份的使命。写这篇文章时，我才开始思考中国如何帮助我面对自己。然而，就像父母以陌生人的身份回到中国一样，我回到旧金山时可能会大不相同，甚至可能也会成为一个陌生人，认不出我曾经熟悉的家，因为我已经“熔”到其他地方。