An Asian Tall Tale

One could argue that a banana is a banana as an act of insecurity. I would argue, however, that “true” Asians are equally insecure about their ethnicity as any banana. Exhibit A: growth clinics.

Right now in South Korea a whole lot of parents are spending thousands of dollars a year on growth clinics for their kids. Using acupuncture, herbal medicines and “special” exercise machines, these growth clinics try to help Korean kids reach such staggering heights as 5’10”. As most people know, Koreans are not noted for their rapping skills or height. It’s a fact of life that is part of the cultural psyche (there’s some old Korean saying about the hottest peppers being the smallest). Apparently Koreans have become so self-conscious about this (the height thing, not the rapping), they now see their lack of verticality as a sign of inferiority; that not being tall enough to ride certain rollercoaster rides can affect one’s ability to find a suitable mate or land a good job. But wait, there’s more to this Asian appearance profiling.

Unlike Sheryl Crow, many Asians do not want to soak up the sun. The backwards thinking: having darker skin means you’re probably a laborer who works some menial outdoor job. Conversely, having a pastier complexion means you’re the proud owner of a prestigious, indoor office job. That’s why it’s not surprising to see Asians on a sunny day sporting umbrellas to protect themselves from the evil sun’s darkening rays.

Believing in equal-opportunity mockery, I have to point out that people in this country will spray orange “bronzer” on their skin to look like they spend a lot of time outdoors. Then you have someone like Sammy Sosa, the ex-Chicago Cub and Dominican who uses some strange cream that makes his skin lighter. My point: stupidity is color blind.

Reverse Asian-eering

Once in awhile a banana breaks from the bunch and has a “coming to Buddha” moment. That is, they become a Born-Again Asian.

For some, it’s a trip to Asia that triggers the epiphany. For others, exposure to a large(r) Asian community (found in bigger cities) can make one go bamboo. No matter how it starts, it ends with a dip in the warm bath of familiarity and normalcy.

It’s the gravity of meeting waves of people who share traditions and customs you always tried to downplay (for fear of self-afflicted embarrassment). You find out that your home wasn’t the only one with a funky, Asian food-store smell. You learn other kids had to also wear colorful costumes to their school’s Ethnic Day. In other words, Born-Again Asians discover their cultural soulmates.

Think of an ethnic society as the place you were raised a.k.a. your hometown. Some people never leave their hometown. Many go away for a few years and when it’s time to settle down, they come back “home”. Others leave thinking the grass is greener on the other side, have their Born-Again moment and head back the other way. Then there are those who left, still love lots of things about their hometown, but don’t miss living there. Bananas lean towards the last two groups.

Asian-Americans who stay bananas are not cultural waifs. In fact, there are a slew of things “Asian” about us that will always be a part of our lives. They’re like those stubborn pounds that never seem to go away…and we don’t want them to disappear, either.

Asian food represents one such cultural love handle. The cuisine evokes memories of childhood that didn’t involve studying for the SAT. Another form of Asian retention: the omnipresent feeling that no matter what you do, you’re disappointing your parents (“You can end world hunger, but you can’t give us grandkids?!?!”). And many of us do own a limited vocabulary of our parents’ native tongue, so we can understand things like “Where are our grandkids?!?!”

For those Born-Agains enjoying a racial renaissance: more power to you. Don’t worry about bananas like me. No matter how “white” I am on the inside, I’ll always have some Asian junk in my trunk.