East Eats West Writing in Two Hemispheres 1st Edition Andrew Lam Full Digital Chapters
East Eats West Writing in Two Hemispheres 1st Edition Andrew Lam Full Digital Chapters
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East Eats West Writing in Two Hemispheres 1st Edition
Andrew Lam Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Andrew Lam
ISBN(s): 9781597141383, 1597141380
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 37.63 MB
Year: 2017
Language: english
f-SH if
“By turns playful, thoughtful, and critically astute, this is his version
of the voice the New America speaks, and it is a superbly fresh lyric.
East Eats West is a sublime dissertation on what happens when the
‘marginal’ finally arrives at the ‘center.’”—Ruben Martinez, Fletcher
Jones Chair in Literature and Writing at Loyola Marymount University
and author of Crossing Over: A Mexican Family on the Migrant Trail
“No one writes about being Vietnamese and American with a finer sad
ness or a richer sense of irony or greater humor than Andrew Lam.”
—Richard Rodriguez, author of Brown: The Last Discovery of America
“Wild, Wild East,” “California Cuisine of the World” (originally “Diversity Feeds From Rice Fields to Microchips:
California Cuisine”), and “Letters from a Younger Brother” (originally “Letter to The Vietnamese Story in California 5i
Myself ”) first appeared in California Magarine.
Who Will Light Incense.^ 6p
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Mourning the Loss of the Tiger 73
Lam, Andrew.
East eats West: writing in two hemispheres / Andrew Lam. Singing in the Family 77
p. cm.
California Cuisine of the World 81
ISBN 978-1-59714-138-3 (pbk.: alk. paper)
I. Lam, Andrew. 2. Vietnamese Americans—Biography. 3. Vietnamese Americans__ In Search of Hermes’ Belt Sg
Social life and customs. 4. Culture diffusion—United States. 5. Culture diffusion__
Vietnam. 1. Title.
Stress, Vietnamese-Style 93
E184.V53L358 2010 Too Much Self-Esteem Can Be Bad for Your Child 9J
973’.O495—dc22
2010017834 From Mao to Yao Ming loi
Tragedy and the New American Childhood loy
Cover Design: Lorraine Rath
Interior Design: Rebecca LeGates
A Our Man Obama: The Post-Imperial Presidency ii5
Printing and Binding: Thomson-Shore, Dexter, MI
Ph(o)netics 123
Ordefs, inquiries, and correspondence should be addressed to: Letter to a Young Iraqi Refugee to America 129
H^day 1
P. Q. Box 9145, Berkeley, CA 94709 Can Ghosts Cross the Ocean.^ 135
(5*0) 549-3564, Fax (510) 549-1889
Buddha and Ancestral Spirits in Suburbia 139
www.heydaybooks.com t
i '4 >, Letters from a Younger Brother 189
109P7654321 j
About the Author 169
TO AMY, ERIC. AND BRANDON
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS introduction
1
introduction
INTRODUCTION
affection very easily, if at all. No, they show it; it’s all in the ges swearing my allegiance to the flag, and promising my soul and
tures working three jobs so your kids can go to private school,
body to protect the land and its sacred rice fields and rivers.
saving the best apple for your spouse while eating the bruised one
Wide-eyed child that I was, I believed every word.
yourself. Americans celebrate birthdays. Vietnamese light incense
But then the war ended and I, along with my family (and even
and have feasts on death anniversaries of important relatives.
tually a couple of million other Vietnamese), betrayed our agrar
American children can t wait to leave home at eighteen, Vietnam
ian ethos and land-bound sentiments by fleeing overseas to lead a
ese children stay around long into adulthood, and often even after
very different life.
they marry. In Vietnam individualism is equated with selfishness.
These days I regularly travel between East Asia and the
America elevates it to an ideology, it demands it: life, liberty, and
United States as an American journalist and writer. My relatives,
the pursuit of happiness. America whispers rebellion of the indi
once all concentrated in Saigon, are scattered across three conti
vidual against the communal: Follow your dream.
nents, speaking three and four other languages, becoming citizens
Perhaps it is easier to abandon one system and swallow the
of several different countries. Once communal and bound by a
new. Then perhaps life wouldn’t be so difficult for those who
common sense of geography, we are now part of a global tribe.
migrate East to West. But the melting pot concept hasn’t really
Still trying to adjust to the radical shift in our lives—once a very
worked. It is more like a blender into which differences are forced
sedentary people, we have become a highly mobile clan with mul
and then regurgitated as platitudes, sort of like Disney movies,
tiple affiliations—we thrive and prosper. It is that transition, that
which rewrite all complicated stories toward a single outcome, a
adding on of identity, that effort to adjust, that I mainly write
thinning, predictable, happily-ever-after formula.
about, both in fiction and nonfiction.
The modern condition, the reality, on the other hand, is messy,
I think of that tongue-tied refugee child at the blackboard in
defined by mismatch and by an intensifying and growing com
seventh grade drawing pictures of helicopters and rice paddies,
plexity. Or rather, increasingly it is cosmopolitanism that is the
trying to tell his story to his new American classmates, sharing
norm. According to the French writer Pascal Bruckner, cosmo what he remembered, what he had lost. He knew it even before he
politanism speaks of being rooted in the depths of several lay
could fully articulate it: between East and West lay a terrain that
ers of memory, in numerous particularities. “It does not collect a
needed to be charted by stories, fused by his new eyes and imagi
trait here or there. It becomes incarnate. It means counterbalanc
nation, and he needed to tell those stories if he ever hoped to be
ing the land of one’s birth with additional homelands.” I think
whole again. Decades later, I’m happy to report that—dancing at
of It as something like Michael Ondaatje’s novel The English
the far end of that continuum—he’s still doggedly at it.
Patient, m which a set of complicated characters with variant and
divergent histories decide to populate an abandoned villa, and in
It t ey argue and fall in love, and in between they tell each other
tneir stories.
Here s mine. I grew up a patriotic South Vietnamese living in
letnam during the war. I remember singing the national anthem.
2 3
ODE TO THE BAY
...the. Philippines
.. .Mexico
...Nicaragua
....Greece
... Taiwan
... Vietnam.
And here’s the moment: A redhead stops by as Juan continues there were 112 languages spoken in the Bay Area, and 80 in the
his antics outside. “I’m from here,” she says, and then she shakes thirty-square-mile city of Richmond, population one hundred
our hands as if we had just landed on the tarmac. “Welcome to thousand. On warm summer afternoons, San Francisco’s Nob
America, she says. She then gives us each a stick of cinnamon Hill turns into the modern Tower of Babel. The languages of the
gum. Juan and I look at each other and shrug. I pop the gum into
world—Chinese, French, Spanish, German, Russian, Thai, Japa
my mouth and chew.
nese, Hindi, Vietnamese, and many more I do not recognize—
Spicy. Sweet.
waft in through open windows, accompanied by the cable cars’
As an American adult I can now finally say what I intuited merry ding-clanging bells.
at that piquant instant: to live in the Bay Area, where I am now
These days Shanghai, Mumbai, Cairo, Paris, Buenos Aires,
from, is to live at the crossroads of a global society. It’s many
and the like are much closer to the Bay Area than we ever thought
a tourist s mistake to define the place materially, and it is true possible. There’s a transnational revolution taking place, one
that the things it is known for—arching bridges and grand ports
right beneath our noses. The teenage girl in Marin County is flirt
and famed high-tech companies—evoke, in many ways, what
ing in the chat room with the teenage boy in Islamabad. The Chi
often transpires here: the ability to span distances and transgress
nese businessman in Silicon Valley is talking to his grandmother
borders.
in Guangdong on his cell phone while answering emails to his
A magnificent terrain, certainly, and full of golden promises, business partners in London and Rio de Janeiro. And when a
but so much more: a place where human restlessness and fabulous woman at a cocktail party told me casually that she was bicoastal,
alchemical commingling are becoming increasingly the norm. she did not mean the tired New York—San Francisco trajectory.
The entire world comes to the Bay Area, and the Bay Area, in
She summers in San Francisco but winters in Shanghai.
return, assimilates the world. The Central Pacific Railroad ended Or try on this scene, another California moment: in their high-
here, but more than a century and a half later, the majority of ceilinged SoMa flat, two friends of mine are conversing with the
the construction of that far-reaching new undertaking, the infor world. An Austrian HiB Silicon Valley computer whiz chats with
mation highway—Yahoo, Google, IBM, eBay, Cisco Systems, his parents in Vienna on his webcam; his Singaporean boyfriend,
Craigslist, Apple, Pixar, Intel, Oracle, and a myriad of others— who is holding his hand, is gossiping in mixed Mandarin and
while centered here, is everywhere, virtually.
English on his cell phone with his sister in Melbourne. On TV,
Gertrude Stein once observed about Oakland, where she spent which neither one is watching at the moment, characters from
her childhood, that “there’s no there there.” But having grown
their favorite Japanese anime are fighting a bloody battle in some
up here and traveled the world, I’d like to add this corollary:
futuristic metropolis.
nowhere is as both here and there as the Bay Area.
California’s diversity is, of course, nothing new. Multiracial,
Go to the San Francisco International Airport on any given
multicultural, and multilingual—even if differences were not
day and you’ll see what I mean. A world in motion, in flux: the
historically celebrated, all these delineations were part of the
number of people who pass through those gates at SFO each year
Golden State from the get-go. Native’Americans in California
exceeds the entire population of the Golden State. At last count.
were forced to forfeit their lands to early settlers, and another
6 7
EAST EATS WEST ODE TO THE BAY
epic collision came when Latin and Anglo America met East Asia In my lifetime here I have watched the pressure to move
and the result was modern California. toward some generic, standardized melting-potted center
Long before Webster acknowledged the word, globaliza jgUate—transform, in fact—to something quite its opposite, as
tion had already swept over the Bay Area. Gold made the state the demography shifts toward a society in which there’s no dis
famous around the world, and the world rushed in and greeted cernible majority, no clear single center. Being Asian I can’t help
itself, perhaps for the first time. Since then layers upon layers of
but notice, of course, the region’s undeniable Asian flare. It’s
complexity tastes, architecture, religions, animals, plants, sto
therefore not surprising that Kevin, with his Germanic ances
ries, music, languages—have been piled onto the place, making try, is so impressed by the Orient. Or rather, the Orient has for
it in many ways postmodern even before the rest of the world a while now impressed itself upon him. In a Chinese restaurant
struggled to enter the modern era. the other day, he scowled at the French tourist’s struggle with
Before I came to San Francisco I too knew it, as most East
her chopsticks over a bowl of shrimp noodle at the next table—
Asians knew it, as Old Gold Mountain, with the Golden Gate as a single chopstick in each well-manicured hand, as if she were
entrance to a wondrous America. Living on that mountain now, about to knit. “I have to say, that fucking offends me! It’s just so
I too have seen my share of the gold rush made new by micro- ’
un-San Franciscan.”
chips and startup companies. “Try to imagine,” a Vietnamese Which made me laugh. Somehow Kevin’s unabashed insis
American entrepreneur friend of mine tells me, “a new wave tence that chopstick etiquette should be essential to Bay Area
of Indians and Chinese and Vietnamese software programmers living is at once obvious and somehow radical. Which is to also
building the information highway, and you have the repeat of say, if I once felt ashamed of my parents’ singsong accents or my
when poor Chinese laborers were building the railroad.” Except mother’s strong-scented cooking, or my own Vietnamese memo
for this: he retired at thirty-eight, having sold his startup com ries, I see them now as a norm, as regional colors, if not assets.
pany at the right time, and now manages his portfolio and col Ethnic is chic in a metropolis that grows increasingly hori
lects art. zontal, where ethnic festivals and parades are celebrated publicly
Diversity may not be new, but it has certainly been intensi with everyone else participating and cheering, and in my mind’s
fied by the volume of interactions, and by the rate of change we eye, they crisscross and stretch into one another, amalgamating
are all experiencing due to the forces of globalization. And new toward a hopeful future shimmering at the horizon.
too IS the way our society has gone from being overtly xenopho But here, too, is where extreme individualism cohabits with
bic—many Chinese railroad workers were murdered when they estranged communalism, often within the same block. Tightly
finished building the railroad—to celebratory about our differ knit tribes—Little Saigons, Chinatowns, Little Kabuls—with
ences. While racism will always lurk in many a resenting heart, their own in-language media and temples and churches, exist
and fear of the other will always be part of the human condition, alongside Latino Muslims, black Buddhists, Mien teenagers
cultures that were once considered proprietary have spilled irre-’ speaking Ebonics. Cities meld into one another here, where
vocably into the mainstream, mixing with one another, trans neighborhoods overlap one another, and where every system—
forming the landscape. community, company, individual—is opened to various degrees.
8 9
EAST EATS WEST ODE TO THE BAY
communicating with every other, and constantly readjtisting expansive in its richness as never before, if an individual is open
itself in many marvelous and surprising ways. to change.
This is the age of “hybridity,” as coined by G. Pascal Zach To live in the Bay Area fully is to learn to see the many dimen
ary, in which individuals claim multiple memberships. Chil sions of the world simultaneously; where others hear a cacoph
dren born from so much intermixing have coined new words to ony, the resident of cosmopolitan reality discerns a symphony. It
describe themselves—Blaxicans, Hindjews, Chirish, Afropinos, entails the ability to overcome the paralysis that may be caused by
Caureans, Japoricans, Cambofricans, Chungarians, Zebras, many conflicting ideas, by finding and inventing new connections
and Rainbows—coinages that confound the standard catego between them. It entails fundamental respect for others’ histories.
ries offered by the U.S. Census. What to do indeed when the Above all, one needs the spirit of adventure and curiosity, and the
category of “Other” threatens to be as large as anything like willingness to hear and embrace others’ stories and to recognize
“Black” or “Hispanic” or “Asian”.'' Lonny Shavelson and Fred in them one’s own.
Setterberg, authors of the book of photos and essays Under the
Dragon, remind us that nearly a quarter of UC Berkeley stu
dents polled in 2004 identified themselves as “multi-racial or One more California moment: Sitting next to me on a jumbo jet
multi-ethnic.” coming back from Tokyo, an old woman in her nineties gives in
But if the center does not hold, or rather, if we now live in to nostalgia. The orchards she knew as a little girl come flood
a multi-centered reality, where not just society but individuals ing back as she peers down at the valley below. She remembers
themselves have become diverse, with multiple affiliations and the scent of peach blossoms, a verdant valley, a slow rhythm of
memberships, then what possible metaphor can capture it all? life. But oh, how everything changes so quickly. How the peach
Shavelson and Setterberg came up with one: under the flap of the trees of her youth had transformed into a Valley of Silicon. She is
dancing Chinese dragon at the Chinese New Year parade, Latinos otherwise a kindred soul, an avid traveler. “Have you been away
and Russian immigrants and Samoans are found dancing along long.^” she asks.
with the Chinese. It is both an apt and poetic image of this new “A month,” I say. “Not too long, but long enough. I can’t wait
undiscovered country. to come home.”
But be warned: the horizontal metropolis is not seeking equi We are almost on the ground. On the speakers, the flight atten
librium. And, like the undulating dragon, it seeks to create new dant tells us in English, Mandarin, then Japanese to fasten our
patterns and points of connection in a world that is constantly seatbelts and adjust our seats for the landing. Out the window,
changing. No one book or essay is therefore enough to capture beneath our wings, I see the rolling hills of San Francisco, the
the enormous complexity of the Bay Area. spanning bridges, the shimmering high-rises, the sparkling bay.
After all, here is where, for the first time in human history, all But then I feel the gentle touch of my seatmate’s wizened hand
of the world’s traditions and ideas are available at close prox alighting on my own. “Well,” she says, imparting a longstanding
imity, and with the information of the world compressed and local wisdom, “tell you what—it’s a new world every time.”
compiled and available at the click of a mouse. Here life can be
10 11
WILD, WILD EAST
13
EAST EATS WEST WILD, WILD EAST
ourselves our own faces, on the silver screen, never mind that We knew all the lore of martial arts epics: the right acupres
Vietnamese see China as a traditional enemy. Lee transcended sure could paralyze one’s enemy, the antidote to the deadly flower
race and national boundaries. In the schoolyard many of us, after from the Cave of Desperate Love was the poisonous sting of a
having seen a Bruce Lee movie, would pretend to know martial certain bee, Wu Tang Clan’s secret fighting manual would teach
arts. We would fight each other under the shade of the tamarind you how to soar high above the treetops and run on the surface
trees, and repeat certain lines learned from the film, and echo of water. “The Iron Palm,” “The Eight Holy Dragon Steps,”
Bruce Lee’s famous high-pitched growl to unnerve our oppo and “The Six-Median Sword Energy”—this was the idiom of our
nents. Lee single-handedly brought the heroic Asian male image, childhood wonders.
long suffering from invisibility, onto the world stage, so how can Alas, it was not yet a shared language, and it fell on mostly
I not weep at his passing.^ deaf American ears. “How can you paralyze someone with just
And picture this, my Vietnamese close-up: I am eleven. Com a finger, that’s just so stupid,” our young neighbors would jeer
munist tanks roll into Saigon. An inveterate bookworm, I read over the fence when we tried to explain the great power of vari
quickly the last pages of Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils, written by ous kung fu techniques. Embarrassed, we took our mock kung
that most famous and prolific of all Wuxia (martial arts) novel fu fighting, our heroic quest in ancient China, into the safety of
ists, Jin Yong, whose work inspired several generations of film the garage, hidden from neighbors and the glaring Californian
makers and comic book artists across Asia. I toss the book back sunlight.
through the car’s window, grab my backpack, wave good-bye to Until the Cold VFar ended, Asian immigrants to America were
Uncle Phuoc, the family chauffeur, and board the C-130 cargo largely cut off from the narratives of their home continent. News
plane with my mother, sister, and two grandmothers to begin our and images from home barely trickled in. A letter from Vietnam
lives in exile. On the plane heading toward Guam, amidst weep took months to arrive. A newspaper from Hong Kong took days
ing refugees, my head remains full of dueling villains and heroes to arrive. There was no section of the supermarket that offered
as my homeland beneath me gives way to a vast green sea. Mythi spices from Asia.
cal, magical China accompanies me on my own journey to the Out of nostalgia, my cousins and I would sometimes venture
other west; the wild, wild West. to the Great Star Theater, that dingy, moldy barn on the edge of
But the America that received my family and me in the mid San Francisco Chinatown where kung fu movies were the daily
seventies did not yet fathom the dawning of the Pacific Century. staple. Back then, the stories of revenge and blood debts and
And if Bruce Lee, with his swift kicks and furious punches and the heroes’ agonizing endurance, learning martial arts in order
energized grunts, made a dent in the American imagination, he to restore their clans’ honor and so on, could be seen at a few
died too soon and did not save me from the taunts of the neigh art houses and, increasingly, through the new invention called
borhood kids. The blond teenagers who played softball and Fris the VCR, into which we slipped videotapes from Hong Kong
bee mocked my cousins and me. For a few more years yet, we to watch the old Wuxia epics unfold in the comfort of our own
tried to live out our childhood kung fu fantasies in the backyard homes, dreaming of a lost continent.
of my parents’ new home. But as the century drew to a close, everything changed.
14 15
CCI T
WILU. WIIB H5T
16
17
EAST EATS WEST WILD, WILD EAST
During this golden era, which began to fade after China took ymonos falling in love with handsome but hapless travelers, I
over in 1997, Hong Kong movies reminded David Overbey, ^as out of luck. It didn’t help that rampant video piracy had cut
writing in Film Comment magazine, of Hollywood in its heyday, the dwindling profit margin to near nothing while Bangkok and
“before the great split between commerce and art.” The deci Seoul and even Mainland China had begun to turn into bona fide
sive breakthrough in action movies came in the early 1990s with new centers for filmmaking, including fabulous martial arts mov
productions like Once Upon a Time in China and Swordsman II ies Seoul, in time, became the new Hollywood of the Far East, its
and A Chinese Ghost Story, in which characters are playful and glamorous stars and pop singers commanding mass continental
barely affected by gravity. Dueling fighters float like birds in the appeal, its soap operas translated into a dozen Asian languages.
air, wearing fantastical costumes and following a story line even Hong Kong’s loss, however, was Hollywood’s gain. John
more fanciful than their clothing: a cult leader absorbs chi power Woo, considered by many to be the best of the Hong Kong cop-
from lesser fighters and shrinks them to nothing; energy bolts and-robber filmmakers, was the first to move to Hollywood in
come through swords to split a horse in two; a fighter acliieves the mid-nineties, and he stayed. Woo turned the likes of Tom
superpower but in the process must castrate himself and, in Hong Cruise and Jean-Claude Van Damme and Nicolas Cage into slick
Kong’s new gender-bending motif, turn into a beautiful woman. action heroes. Soon Woo was followed by many of his compatri
Anything can happen in these movies, and the eye-blurring ots. The mega-hit The Matrix also benefited from the Far East.
fighting reaches a level that can only be called superb, surreal, and Not only did it borrow ideas from the Japanese anime series
balletic. The new narrative seems to reflect a sense of uninhibited Ghost in the Shell, it also gained greatly from a team of Hong
wildness, and many characters—powerful eccentrics—live out Kong martial arts choreographers. Chief among them was Yuen
side the social norms and stifling traditions, taking only what’s Wo-ping, a martial arts master who also shaped the careers of
good and discarding the rest. The movies were beginning to Jet Li and Jackie Chan. It’s as if all the cinematic and martial arts
examine and explore and deconstruct Confucian ideas, and along skills that Hong Kong filmmakers had incorporated in the pre
with it, issues of loyalty and patriotism and friendship and love. vious three decades were applied to render Keanu Reeves, the
Hong Kong, after all, like the rest of the globalized world, was hapa star—part Asian, part white—who played a Neo-Christ/
moving into the age of options; its kung fu movies crossed mul Buddha in a futuristic world ruled by machines, as a stunningly
tiple genres, and the story lines, along with the poetic choreogra skilled martial artist.
phy, were often so stunning and clever that they left an indelible If Hong Kong was once known for borrowing indiscriminately
mark on the rest of the world. from Hollywood movies, the reverse has now happened. Its mar
Sadly, that period of renaissance ended all too soon. The last tial arts genre has inspired the West, where it continues to evolve.
time I visited Hong Kong, the theater near my hotel was playing Oliver Stone, Francis Ford Coppola, Quentin Tarantino, and
solely American films, from The Blair Witch Project to The Gen many other directors have all expressed tremendous enthusiasm
eral’s Daughter to The Sixth Sense. If I had expected sword-toting for the martial arts genre. Tarantino, who watched Hong Kong
heroes flying on rooftops, gangster girls using guns and knives movies while working in a video store before finding fame, drew
to take over each other’s casinos, or beautiful ghosts in fabulous heavily on John Woo’s film City on Fire in making his first film.
18 13
EAST EATS WEST WILD, WILD EAST
A longtime fan of Hong Kong movies, he revolu 0iany Chinese thinkers and writers wondered why China couldn’t
tionized Hollywood with his relentless pace, his bloody but often make the same movie. As one Chinese critic observed, “The
humorous movies. Kill Bill i and 2, for instance, are his tribute panda and kung fu are China’s treasures, but we have to let for
to Shaw Brothers kung fu movies, to the TV series Kung Fu, and eigners remind us of that.” And please, don’t get him and his col
to his own movies, from Pulp Fiction to Reservoir Dogs. In the leagues started on Disney’s Mulan!
first Kill Bill, Uma Thurman plays a swordswoman rising from Another case in point: the animated television series Avatar:
a coma to take revenge on an assassin posse to which she once The Last Airbender, wherein a boy wakes up a hundred years into
belonged. She wears a yellow jumpsuit just like the one Bruce Lee the future and finds his whole race gone, and he must bring bal
wore more than three decades before in Fist of Fury, she searches ance back to the world, is also produced by Americans, Michael
for a good sword, she improves her martial arts skills, and she Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. They both admit to bor
hacks dozens of men to death in scene after scene. The audience rowing wildly from Asian themes: from martial arts to Taoist
laughs when bodies are chopped and blood spurts. No one can ideas of elemental manipulation to Hindu ideas of reincarnation
oppose Thurman in her wrath. to the mature themes of revenge, death, genocide, and love with
Tarantino leads the pack in reinventing the old genre, turn which Japanese manga and anime are often infused.
ing the slash-and-smash form into something that is all at once It is astounding to think of a new generation of American chil
replete with not only a traditional plot, but also homage and sat dren growing up not with innocuous Bugs Bunny or Tom and
ire. The old kung fu movie has gone through radical changes over Jerry but with an array of adult narratives from Japan: complex
the years, entering the age of postmodernism, and has matured to and often terrifying themes of war and destruction and revenge
the point where it draws a huge following even when it is poking along with their new cartoon characters, many of whom are well
fun at itself. versed in martial arts. But such are the marvels of the renewed
So here’s the thing: West has become part of East. Yoga is New World, in which we all continually renegotiate the meaning
the new aerobics (my instructor is a redhead) and acupuncture is of pluralism.
now accepted by HMOs (my favorite acupuncturist is French). After all, one does not believe in the effects of feng shui and
Many women and men of American letters now have South Asian acupuncture without eventually recognizing the chi, that mysteri
or Chinese last names, which is no longer new. You can find fish ous force ancient Taoist priests saw flowing through the universe.
sauce and wasabi down the aisle in Safeway. Turn on the TV and One does not practice yoga and meditation without making some
the Food Network will teach you how to make pho soup and Thai kind of inroad into the nature of the enlightened mind, the way
curry. Asian cultures have become so much part of America that ancient yogis saw it. One does not practice martial arts seriously
they’re tattooed as Chinese or Sanskrit characters on alabaster without embodying the mindset of ancient martial arts warriors:
skin, and often it’s non-Asian Americans who peddle Asian cul years of practice and endurance, and the will of steel.
tures to everyone, including Asians. East and West—the twain have met with the blessing of shared
Kung Fu Panda, a Steven Spielberg production, was a block fascination. A refugee to California, I once resigned myself to
buster smash in China. The animated film was so popular that the idea that incense smoke, gongs, and Confucian dramas were
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EAST EATS WEST
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History - Mind Map
Spring 2021 - School
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