The Chinese Way
China Trip Series #6
This trip has been a wonderful opportunity to experience Chinese culture from the perspective of having lived in the U.S. for 12 years. For this final post in the series, I’d like to share some intriguing observations.
Blood and Belonging
I’m always struck by how much more closely blood ties are linked with belonging here than in the U.S. This strong connection has been both a source of pain and healing for me; growing up without parents and spending my early years in an orphanage nearly meant losing any sense of belonging — until I discovered a more transcendent connection.
I’ve been surprised and deeply touched by how warmly my aunts, uncles, and cousins received me, despite our limited time together over the years. Whenever I expressed gratitude, they’d say, “You deserve it.” The only explanation seems to be our blood ties.
Is this unconditional love? I’m not certain. With the sense of belonging comes an expectation of loyalty; family members are expected to stand by one another. I wonder if this sense of loyalty sometimes holds people back as much as it elevates them. As someone who values balancing diversity with unity, I find myself contemplating how this dynamic might find greater harmony. Would I have had the courage to move to the U.S. if my parents were still alive, or if I’d been raised within the family system? And I wonder, too, if I would be welcomed so warmly if I hadn’t achieved what I have. Perhaps, in a way, my achievements have uplifted the family, just as previous generations have done in their own ways. There is probably also power play in subtle ways.
I also observed the parent-child relationship in China. It is often said here that children are “the family religion,” and I see how profoundly true this is. Grandma Olga once remarked that children don’t hold the same central role in Europe or the U.S. as they do here. With my experience in both cultures, I see the truth in her words. Perhaps this also explains why losing my parents was such a trauma — it felt like going from being the center of the universe to a barren desert. Yet that desert provided the space for me to develop my independence, something I now feel grateful for rather than resentful. My cousin even asked me how his daughter, who is pursuing a PhD in the U.S., might develop an independent spirit. I thought to myself: How can a child grow independent when their parents do everything for them?
I believe in Confucius’s teachings on filial duties, though his guidance extends beyond family ties alone. For him, filial duty is a starting point for learning to love — not the endpoint. Yet I often see parents and children here consume each other through a form of love coated in control and entitlement.
Why do Chinese people value their children so highly? I thought of two possible reasons. First, traditional agricultural values likely play a role. In agrarian societies, children contribute labor and provide security in old age, so raising children becomes an investment in one’s future. Second, the modern lifestyle contributes. Children are often the main source of entertainment for many families, filling most of their free time. Parents upload videos of schoolwork, transport children to extra classes on weekends, and engage with children in activities like story time. In most gatherings with children, they always become the focal point and everything evolves around them. In some cases, one child keeps both parents and grandparents busy from birth through college. By contrast, entertainment options in most Chinese households are modest — mainly TV. Even random conversations I overheard on public transport often centered on school and homework.
Gifts and Feasts
Before leaving for China, I consulted my sister on gifts and brought thoughtful ones for almost everyone I planned to see. My checked luggage weighed in at 49.5 pounds — barely under the 50-pound limit. On my return trip to the U.S., my bag was slightly overweight, but the gentleman who checked me in kindly waived the fee.
Gift-giving here feels like cross-pollination, as my sister and I played the role of bumblebees transferring gifts from one relative to another. We brought vegetables and homemade noodles from my uncle’s countryside home, which we shared with my aunt at the orphanage, my sister’s aunt in the suburbs, and our biological aunt in Weihai. Gifts we brought from Beijing were similarly distributed across the family, with each gift finding its place, strengthening friendships along the way. It seems that Chinese people truly believe in the value of never showing up empty-handed.
One personal reason for gifting is the memorable feasts my hosts treated me to. I attended wonderful meals at my uncle’s countryside home, my aunt’s home at the orphanage, my sister’s aunt’s suburban villa, and at my two biological aunts’ and cousin’s homes in Weihai. When my husband asked if I’d gained weight, I replied, “I don’t care.” I lived fully in the moment, savoring not only the food but also the deeper friendships and connection these gatherings signified.
Community and Housing
The pull of community was palpable as soon as I arrived. Here, the need to assert individual uniqueness is much less pronounced, while the desire for harmonious connection is much stronger. I enjoyed this shift; it feels very aligned with my own values. People here easily socialize, even with those they’ve just met, and the conversations flowed smoothly — perhaps because of our shared background and everyone’s curiosity about my life in the U.S. Inadvertently, I became a catalyst for connections, helping to spark new relationships and deepen existing ones.
My sister and I had excellent housing in Beijing and Yantai, renting two-bedroom apartments with enough space for privacy. But in Weihai, at my aunt’s house, I had to share a room with either my sister or my aunt. On the last night, I began having dreams about my personal space being invaded and felt a rising sense of impatience. These dreams reflected the tension I feel between wanting to be with loved ones and needing space for myself — a vivid example of the blend of both cultures within me.
In Conclusion…
While I thoroughly enjoyed my visit, I was keenly aware that I was a guest. My home is now in the U.S., and this trip deepened my sense of belonging and appreciation for my current life. I am happy to be on the return flight, just as I was happy to come to China. Grandma Olga used to say she was always happy to leave Austria for her international travels and equally happy to return. I now understand her sentiment.
One last note: I brought along a piece of clothing from Grandma Olga, who had wanted to visit China before her passing but couldn’t due to COVID. I also brought a piece of clothing from Sarah, my host mother, who had hoped to accompany me this time, though timing didn’t work out. I hope both traveled in spirit with me.
