the sweetest tongue

Getting in Touch With My Inner Asian

Friday, January 6th, 2006 | faggy tendencies

Sometimes, I consider myself a very un-Asian Asian. When the Princess rattles on in her native tongue, I can only get bits and pieces. While watching a Hong Kong film, I am fully dependent on the subtitles near the bottom of the screen. I cook Italian, and without my claim to living in Singapore, I could be considered a 100% ABC (American Born Chinese). But that’s not necessarily a bad thing, thank you very much. There’s some pride in that too.

But last night I learned how to play Mahjong for the first time. There is something about learning a game I used to watch my father play when I was growing up. We used to go in a big room hidden in a back of a Chinese restaurant in Puerto Rico, where all these Chinese men would be playing Mahjong together. He would stay for hours, and would give me pocket money to go with someone to a convenience store down the street to buy candy. I always bought Ring Pops.

The Princess brought over her Mahjong table last night, and he and Spencer began to teach me how to play. After a few gaffes, I think I got the hang of it, and while I’m no pro, I think I caught onto the game pretty quick. We played and gossiped till 2am in the morning (it’s surprising how quickly time flys by!), and I felt so much better about myself.

“A sandwich to a Jew is just as important as a country to a Gentile.” - New York Times

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