The woman sitting across from me looked out the window as the train crossed the unusual border between between Hong Kong and mainland China. We had 18 more hours before the train would reach its destination in Shanghai where we would pass through an immigration control point within a country we hadn't left. As the train later made its way through the city to Hong Kong's north, Shenzhen, the woman and I began a conversation. Upon learning she was from Shanghai I said, "Nong ho!" — "hello" in the Shanghai dialect.
Upon learning I was from the U.S. she said, "Trump."
The outcome of the U.S. presidential election had been decided more than a week earlier and the news was still fresh. Shortly after the one word statement, the woman expressed her disappointment in the election's result. At one point, she sharply outstretched her right arm, tilted her head slightly to the side, and contorted her face. I couldn't place the expression, but it was clearly made in a derogatory manner. The unmistakable Nazi salute left a much larger impression.
Her expression then became somber, and she quietly said, "I'm afraid of him."
During the next couple of weeks in Shanghai, almost every time a stranger asked me about my nationality, whether while waiting in a breakfast line for deep-fried dough-sticks, riding a metro train, or doing another everyday activity, I heard the same one word response. Sometimes people expressed a wish that Hillary Clinton had won. Sometimes they asked how Americans could make such a choice. Only one time did somebody express positive feelings about Donald Trump.
Then Trump spoke with Taiwanese President Tsai Ing-wen and raised questions about the One-China policy — surely not a way to win over the hearts and minds of most people in China. Presumably anti-Trump sentiment in China has only grown since then. After leaving Shanghai and traveling to several other cities in China, I have heard Trump-related comments less frequently, but they continue to be negative. For example, while I was at a street market in Xiapu, a county of small fishing villages in southeastern China, a woman angrily derided Trump over his Taiwan comments. All I had said before, in response to another person's question, was, "I'm from the U.S."
People who inquire about my home country and express their feelings about the President of the U.S. don't necessarily represent all Chinese people. But I haven't had regular experiences in China like these since the days of George W. Bush's presidency. Trump hadn't even been sworn into office yet, so I wonder what may be in store for the future.
I may have little control over my government, but it is far more than the Chinese people I meet have over their own. So I refrain from complaining that occasionally I have to answer for the decisions made by my country. Sometimes I will see a silver lining in a nonthreatening negative response and use it as an opportunity to share some of the diversity of views in a country far away. Particularly with people who rarely, if ever, meet foreigners, impressions are made when an American explains that they too believe invading Iraq was a huge mistake. That they too are deeply troubled about what their president-elect may do.
At Yuyuan Gardens, a popular destination in Shanghai for tourists, a few shops and stalls sell paper-cut portraits. You can have one custom-made or buy an already-finished portrait. Old standards and some more contemporary options are typically offered. Two years ago I saw a portrait of Edward Snowden grouped with the more common portraits of Mao Zedong, Che Guevara, and Michael Jackson.
When I recently returned to Yuyuan Gardens with a visiting relative, I wasn't surprised to see a portrait of Donald Trump displayed — a small sign of how much the world had changed since my last visit. But I was surprised by the familiar image of Trump used by the artist. The portrait's spirit significantly differed from the others.
And I suddenly had an answer to a question I had long given up trying to answer. That was the expression the woman imitated on the train to Shanghai.
That is what China won't let me forget.
Upon learning I was from the U.S. she said, "Trump."
The outcome of the U.S. presidential election had been decided more than a week earlier and the news was still fresh. Shortly after the one word statement, the woman expressed her disappointment in the election's result. At one point, she sharply outstretched her right arm, tilted her head slightly to the side, and contorted her face. I couldn't place the expression, but it was clearly made in a derogatory manner. The unmistakable Nazi salute left a much larger impression.
Her expression then became somber, and she quietly said, "I'm afraid of him."
During the next couple of weeks in Shanghai, almost every time a stranger asked me about my nationality, whether while waiting in a breakfast line for deep-fried dough-sticks, riding a metro train, or doing another everyday activity, I heard the same one word response. Sometimes people expressed a wish that Hillary Clinton had won. Sometimes they asked how Americans could make such a choice. Only one time did somebody express positive feelings about Donald Trump.
Then Trump spoke with Taiwanese President Tsai Ing-wen and raised questions about the One-China policy — surely not a way to win over the hearts and minds of most people in China. Presumably anti-Trump sentiment in China has only grown since then. After leaving Shanghai and traveling to several other cities in China, I have heard Trump-related comments less frequently, but they continue to be negative. For example, while I was at a street market in Xiapu, a county of small fishing villages in southeastern China, a woman angrily derided Trump over his Taiwan comments. All I had said before, in response to another person's question, was, "I'm from the U.S."
People who inquire about my home country and express their feelings about the President of the U.S. don't necessarily represent all Chinese people. But I haven't had regular experiences in China like these since the days of George W. Bush's presidency. Trump hadn't even been sworn into office yet, so I wonder what may be in store for the future.
I may have little control over my government, but it is far more than the Chinese people I meet have over their own. So I refrain from complaining that occasionally I have to answer for the decisions made by my country. Sometimes I will see a silver lining in a nonthreatening negative response and use it as an opportunity to share some of the diversity of views in a country far away. Particularly with people who rarely, if ever, meet foreigners, impressions are made when an American explains that they too believe invading Iraq was a huge mistake. That they too are deeply troubled about what their president-elect may do.
At Yuyuan Gardens, a popular destination in Shanghai for tourists, a few shops and stalls sell paper-cut portraits. You can have one custom-made or buy an already-finished portrait. Old standards and some more contemporary options are typically offered. Two years ago I saw a portrait of Edward Snowden grouped with the more common portraits of Mao Zedong, Che Guevara, and Michael Jackson.
When I recently returned to Yuyuan Gardens with a visiting relative, I wasn't surprised to see a portrait of Donald Trump displayed — a small sign of how much the world had changed since my last visit. But I was surprised by the familiar image of Trump used by the artist. The portrait's spirit significantly differed from the others.
And I suddenly had an answer to a question I had long given up trying to answer. That was the expression the woman imitated on the train to Shanghai.
That is what China won't let me forget.
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