Whoever came up with the decree, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do” has obviously never found themselves sitting by a roaring wood-fired furnace in a Finnish sauna, slapping wet birch leaves on their arms while sweating enough water and salt to supply the French army for a year. Not that it wasn’t fun - in the way that planning a formal dinner party for 75 and shopping six days straight because you keep forgetting things like your cell
This is typical when I, a first-generation immigrant of Chinese descent, meet someone new. “Where are you from?” “Seattle.” “No no no, where are you REALLY from?” (Rolling my eyes, I know where this is going) “China." “NOOOOO.... you look way more Korean to me. I always know the difference!” Oh, do you? Even I cannot tell the differences between Korean and Chinese women anymore. They all look exactly the same to me, someone who was born and raised in China.
I’m 100% made in China. And like everything else made in China, I’m a little… defective. You see, I don’t know how to hold my chopsticks properly. In fact, it’s not just me, but my entire generation - all of us born in China in the 80s. I can always tell which Chinese person at Din Tai Fung grew up in China versus those raised in America by how they hold their chopsticks. Don’t believe me? Listen, chopstick wrappers in
Marie Laguerre was walking past a bistro when a man on the street began shouting obscenities at her. She told him to shut up. He walked up to a table at the bistro, grabbed an ashtray and threw it at her. Luckily, his aim was as bad as his respect of boundaries, so it didn’t hit her. The man then approached her and slapped her, knocking her off balance. It was all captured by security cameras. The owner of the