Debutante Ball, of sorts

It is my firm belief that every true Southern belle needs her own debutante ball. Basically, this is a combination coming-of-age and presentation to society gala. Obviously, they don’t happen in New England, nor would I have wanted one, but some of my classmates from high school did carry out the tradition.

My grandma and I headed over to July 4^th feastivities and bbq hosted by Great Auntie Mei. She’s one of those elder statesman figures in the Louisville Chinese-Viet Community; I’m actually not sure what her name is because everyone refers to her as the Great Auntie. Yesterday, she invited us over, particularly so that she (and a lot of others) could see me. When I arrived, the driveway jammed full with cars and small children. I pulled in with trepidation.

Immediately, I was waylayed by a few people who recognized me, and although I had no idea who they were, I nodded and smiled with recognition. My god, the last time I saw you, you were this tall! (*waves at the ground) I was introduced to several new children and husbands, but unlike years past, was spared being poked, prodded or pinched.

At this “family” reunion of sorts, people can roughly be divided into categories by age. Let’s see:

• 60+: This includes those venerable elder figures who brought their families to Louisville when it was impossible to buy bean sprouts and locals couldn’t tell the difference between Taiwan and Thailand. Children have mostly intermarried those from other families and taken over family businesses. Have acquired all sorts of nicknames due to being a different relationship (Great Aunt, Grandma, Mother in Law, etc) to everyone in town. English skills are just sufficient to pass the U.S. citizenship test, and all is promptly forgotten afterwards.
• 40s & 50s: Kids are mostly in high school and college, and they are free to spend weekends playing mahjong or cards for hours on end. English is proficient enough to establish careers and businesses. Speaking voices tend to be loud to the point of yelling, gossip circulates faster than a newly released Potter book.
• 30s: Young moms (and dads) who try to maintain a hipper look and trendy dress. May have blonde-ish highlights in layered hair. Have a decent command of English and tend to speak to kids in English if they don’t respond to Chinese.
• 20s: um, that’d be me. Most of the other people I can think of in this range are currently not in this state. Including myself by the end of the week.
• Teeny boppers: sufficiently assimilated into American culture, often to the detriment of language skills, which is inversely proportional to fashion sense. Sparring cliques are heard to remark: “Sophia and all her friends, they’re so snooty.”
• Younguns: still in diapers, but smart enough to strategically scream when ice pops are being passed out. Beware being excessively fat or skinny; you will be summarily examined and your parents’ negligence discussed over the mahjong table. Actually, this last rule applies to anyone in the previous categories too.

Needless to say, I felt a little out of place, but ended up hanging out with the old people and playing foosball with the kids.

I was struck by the number of people who spoke to me in English at first, then switched to Cantonese once they realized I was sufficiently fluent. Moreover, I garnered some praise for graduating and landing a good job, but was roundly commended for the language fluency. It’s a little discouraging to see that so many kids in my generation have aural but not oral proficiency in Chinese. Not only these kids, but most of my cousins have limited Chinese skills as well, which is a shame. Even my brother’s Chinese is not exactly fluid.

It’s a shame that the language isn’t being passed down, not only for the practical value of knowing another language, but for the rich oral tradition that gets lost. My Chinese isn’t perfect, but I can easily join into conversations, understand jokes, hold my own and generally chew the fat with any takers. Without this background, how would you ever develop any meaningful relationships with the older generation?

I came away with $100 tucked into a red envelope from Great Auntie Mei.