My name is Prisca and I am from Vancouver, Hong Kong, Montreal, and Macau (chronological order). Actually, I am not from Montreal because I only studied there for four years and my French sounds like gibberish but it holds better memories than any other city. Actually, I am not from Macau either as I only lived here for two years, but have been receiving money from the government for 15 years. Actually, I am not from Hong Kong either because I have not been there for two years and I don’t really have any friends in the city. Actually, I am not from Vancouver either, even though most of my clothes are and I file my taxes there, I don’t really remember the best restaurants in the city anymore. Maybe a place cannot give me an identity.
I speak fluent Cantonese and English, and when I am drunk my Mandarin is on a native level. I always thought my Chinese was good until I worked at a Chinese press outlet a few years ago and my editors said that I have the Chinese ability of a fifth grader. My brother once told my mom that I express myself better in English. However, I still mispronounce words – I say the word London “lindon” and sushi “shushi”. I also had a speech therapist when I moved back to Vancouver after living in Hong Kong for 12 years to straighten my accent so my classmates would stop mocking my Cantonese, Australian, British accent (according to my therapist’s description) that I got from school, tutor and life (respectively). Now when I speak to a person from Hong Kong, they would say that my Cantonese has an accent. Maybe the language I speak does not give me an identity.
My dad decided to move the family to Hong Kong so I could get permanent residency there when I was one year old, after 1997. He told the Canadian embassy in Hong Kong that his children must be Chinese. Despite his effort, I was not able to get a Hong Kong passport until I was 8 years old, so my classmates were calling me “armpit people” for most of those years because Canada sounds like armpit in Cantonese. When I was in Vancouver, I told people I was from Hong Kong, then they asked, “Just say you are from China, can’t you?” Those are the same people who posted on social media about Hong Kong not being part of China a few years later. Soon after, they were able to give me a better identity by calling me a “fob” which stands for “fresh off the boat”. I did not understand why I was called that because I was born in Vancouver but they taught me that your birthplace does not give you an identity. Eventually, I embraced this identity because I am “fresh off the boat” wherever I am. Then after I moved to Montreal for university, I decided to tell people I am from Vancouver to avoid sparking another political, socio-economic, philosophical and existential debate because everyone knows that Vancouver people are nice. Then, some would proceed on asking where my parents were from to get a better sense of who I was. Others would ask me where in Vancouver because Abbotsford is not part of Vancouver. So I am not from Vancouver, Hong Kong, China, then where am I from?
I also get culture shocks wherever I go. I learnt to call toilet “toilet” in Hong Kong so I was surprised to learn that people from Vancouver called “toilet” “washroom”, I was surprised in Montreal they called “washroom” “toilets” and when I was in Macau, I was shocked to learn that there is a difference between “washroom”, “bathroom”, “toilet” and “powder room”. Now I just tell people I have to pee, because I know, at least, this action is universal.
My parents said home is where your family is. My parents oscillate between Hong Kong and Macau, my brother is in Shenzhen, my sister-in-law is in Japan, my 16 uncles and aunties are all across Canada, Hong Kong and the United States, and my cousin, second cousin once removed, second removed, third removed are in cities or countries that I cannot pronounce the name of. Then I guess where your family members are can’t define who you are.
My best friend once told me she didn’t seem to fit in anywhere she goes because she lived in California, Beijing, Montreal and Toronto. So, we became co-presidents of a university club that has a slogan saying, “home away from home”. They say when life gives you lemons, make lemonade, so we created an identity, a sense of belonging, a role in life that we could call ourselves without any follow-up questions or mockery. However, it was a temporary identity as after we graduated, we had to continue our identity-searching journey.
I am Prisca. I am from Vancouver because I say sorry when people bump into me. I am from Hong Kong when I get agitated about people’s lack of efficiency. I am from Montreal, when I can pick up a few French words from a menu. I am from Macau, when I can deal cards better than anyone else at a poker game. I am from Hong Kong when people ask me why I am trilingual. I am not a nomad. I am home-fluid.
Photos: courtesy of Unsplash
