For Mother's Day last month, my daughter and I gave my wife one of those DNA testing kits (for this one, you spit into a kind of test tube, mail it off to the company and wait for the results. And not try to think that a private company now has a sample of your genetic makeup). Shu-E sensibly suggested that Amber provide the saliva sample instead, so that the results would reflect the makeup of both her parents. Those results came back a couple of weeks ago and to almost no surprise, they were as follows: my daughter is 49% "China"; 28% "England, Wales and northern Europe"; 22% "Ireland and Scotland"; and 1% "Philippines". That last one may look surprising, but it reflects the Austronesian makeup of most Taiwanese. The first Han Chinese migrants to Taiwan were almost all dudes, so it should come as no surprise that there was a lot of pairing up with the native aboriginal women. The only surprise for me, in fact, is that the "Philippines" figure wasn't higher (and by "Philippines", as a friend pointed out, the "1% matches the DNA of the majority of people who currently live in the Philippines", meaning that Taiwanese aborigines and Filipinos share a common ancestry). The test results also show just how much a child of the British Isles I am based on the DNA handed down by my ancestors. I still think pulling out of the EU is a big, big mistake, however.
It's all good fun, and not really meant to be taken seriously, except that when you share the results on Facebook, there will always be one or two earnest folks who feel compelled to interject with a "Well, actually...", followed by factual but dry statements that only a grad student working on their thesis or dissertation would find interesting. Things like "any country has numerous haplogroups and those haplogroups are found outside of those countries as well", no doubt written with sincere intentions of starting a reasoned discussion, but sucking the life out of the party nonetheless.
But then, while looking over the comments, I was reminded of a subtle, yet disturbing (though probably unintentioned) undercurrent - that of the white person taking it upon themselves to explain to other white people what it means to be Taiwanese (or Chinese, or Japanese, or Korean, or Thai - just insert the Asian ethnic group of your choice). For an example of what I mean, mosey over to a FB group or website in the Taiwan blogosphere, casually drop references to "Han Chinese" or "Chinese culture" or similar trigger words, then sit back and read the fireworks as the overwhelmingly Caucasian/Western commenters debate each other over the definition of "Taiwanese". Bonus points in particular go out to those white folks who direct their well-researched conclusions directly at recipients who themselves are of the Asian persuasion.
Which, of course, may one day include my offspring (or at least the 49% + 1% of her that isn't from "England, Wales, northern Europe, Ireland and Scotland"). In preparation for that day when a young white male from the New or Old World greets Amber with a confident "你好" and suggests going to a place he knows where they prepare "the best boba tea in town", I will suggest she read Orientalism by Edward Said. Though it's more than 40 years old and was primarily concerned with the Middle (as opposed to Far) East, most of Said's assertions (for example, that people in Asian societies are reduced to broad stereotypes that focus on their "otherness" so that they can in turn be "explained" to a Western audience) are still as relevant as ever. Reading the book while living in Japan opened my eyes and changed the way I consciously approached Asia as a Western observer (thanks Sean Jorgensen, wherever you may be these days, for loaning me your copy). Perhaps Said's work will help to prepare my daughter for when the aforementioned Caucasian gentleman tries to, say, "educate" her on Taiwan's place in the "great big wheel of migration out of (Southeast) Asia, into what is now coastal China, then to Taiwan", and how this contributed to her genetic makeup and who she is as a "Taiwanese", before inviting her to a "cool" restaurant he knows that serves "the most authentic 牛肉麵 in town". It's only a matter of time, I'm sure...
Meanwhile, back in the present, the clock counts down to the end of Amharic training and our departure to Addis Ababa. As the weather continues to get warmer, I at least seem to be slowing down, going out less often and doing fewer things of note compared to when we returned to this area last fall. But go out occasionally we still do, as when we had dinner one evening at my wife's favorite local Korean restaurant, Yechon:
One reason I may be slowing down is that on Flag Day earlier this month I became another year older (but not necessarily wiser). To "celebrate" the fact that I'm eligible for senior discounts at some establishments (as well as to observe Father's Day), my family and I went out for dinner at Mad Fox Brewing Company in Falls Church:
The Saturday between my birthday and Father's Day was a glorious one in terms of weather:
Taking advantage of the break between rainstorms, I
The museum has been in the news of late for the reopening of its dinosaur hall. It's certainly an impressive collection of fossils, though like most teenagers, much of Amber's interest in prehistoric creatures has diminished since early childhood:
A paleontologist (presumably) at work behind the glass, looking a little like a zoo exhibit:
Because a.) the museum is free; b.) it wasn't our first time to visit: and c.) having the advantage of living in the Washington, D.C. area, neither one of us felt the need to explore every room and exhibition (unlike that first time we went). The African Voices room had very little on Ethiopia - here my daughter points out the range of teff and other grains cultivated in the Horn of Africa:
Amber did take an interest in some of the gems and minerals on display, including the legendary Hope Diamond:
Flourite:
Looking down on the fossils room:
"Eternal Life in Ancient Egypt". Egypt is one of those places I hope to visit during our tour in Addis Ababa:
This suit of armor was a diplomatic gift from Emperor Meiji 明治天皇. It was presented to President Theodore Roosevelt in 1905 for his efforts in mediating an end to the Russo-Japanese War:
Back outside on the National Mall:
Father's Day was muted this year as my daughter left that morning for a four-day trip to the Florida Keys that was organized by her middle school. She had a fantastic time, enjoying a variety of activities including swimming with dolphins, snorkeling over a coral reef and visiting a hospital for sea turtles:
Four young women at that awkward but still enjoyable stage in life, too old for unicorns and ponies but not yet old enough for boys:
Walking back to the bus stop after seeing off my daughter, I passed by this work by Richard Beyer, a sculptor from Washington state best known for Waiting for the Interurban:
I've been taking a lot of walks lately through the local cemetery:
This poignant statue sits atop the grave of a young woman who was killed in a car accident while driving back to college from her home in Falls Church. There are a lot of stores to be told in the various gravestones:
The cemetery is home to a lot of fireflies, but capturing some of them on video is a challenge, one I have a lot of trouble meeting:
Our area has been experiencing a spate of late afternoon downpours. These clouds were the harbingers of one of them:
Fortunately, though, the weather cooperated this past Friday when Amber and I made a return visit to Northwest Federal Field at Pfitzner Stadium in suburban Prince William County. A couple of weeks before, a game for which we had tickets had been canceled due to heavy rain, but we were able to use the rain checks for another game. This night's contest pitted the home team Potomac Nationals (a Washington Nationals affiliate), against the visiting Carolina Mudcats (a Milwaukee Brewers farm club):
Waiting for the game to begin:
The view from our seats. The Mudcats and the Nationals play in the Carolina League, a Class A-Advanced league in the Minor League Baseball organizational hierarchy:
Scenes from the contest:
Carolina triumphed over Potomac 6-2 (recap and box score). This was my first time to see a minor league game at this level, having only previously attended Class AAA contests in Sacramento and Tacoma. The stadium isn't far removed from a high school or American Legion facility, with few mod cons (and is a big reason why the team might be moving to Fredericksburg next season), but the small crowd was into it, and afterward Amber got to run the bases just as she did in Seattle last year. This was the National Pastime at its local level, a chance to take a break from the past-paced modern world, sit back with a hot dog and a beer on a warm summer evening, and watch a group of young men (including the umpires) pursue their dream of reaching the Major Leagues. Most of them won't make it:
Saturday was a day spent shopping in preparation for our upcoming departure. For lunch, we stopped in Fairfax's trendy Mosaic District, where we ate at the Jinya Ramen Bar. Jinya is emblematic of the problem with Japanese restaurants in North America. Not so much for the food (though a friend described the Karaage Ramen Bowl I had there as a "heresy") as for the presentation. Or, more precisely, the pretentiousness of the presentation. Too many Japanese eateries in this country are marketed as "concepts" aimed at the foodies and hipsters who are generally clueless as to what Japanese cuisine actually entails (sorry Anthony Bourdain). The result is prices in the $14-15 range for a bowl of what is essentially a working man's (or woman's) dish back in Japan, drawing in customers like the bleach blonde in front of us inquiring as to whether the outdoor table she had reserved was ready yet, or the couple in their anime アニメ T-shirts sitting behind me. I had the creeping feeling that some of the clientele present that Saturday afternoon would be more than happy to "explain" Japan to anyone willing to listen:
Curmudgeonly rantings aside, I wouldn't mind living in the Mosaic District, though there's no way I could afford to. As I often tell Amber, I don't like hipsters, but I like their lifestyles:
As one week comes to an end, and another set to begin soon, I face the prospect of temporary bacherlood, for my wife and daughter will be away for a few days, visiting my father and sister in the opposite Washington. Before taking them to the airport on Sunday afternoon, we had lunch together at Little Saigon. I have no idea how "authentic" the food is, because I don't care as long as the food is high in volume and low in price. Two conditions which "Chef Minh's Special Pho" satisfied:
The building with the clock on its facade is the Ban Thanh market in Ho Chi Minh City. A replica of it can be seen at the Eden Center mall down the street from Little Saigon:
Seeing off the girls at Dulles:
I'll leave you with this cell phone photo, shot from inside our rental car on Saturday afternoon on our way to the Mosaic District. This expensive-looking Mustang bore a temporary-looking license plate that read "U.S. Department of State" underneath the blacked-out (by my daughter) numbers. Assuming this is legit, I was left with two questions: 1.) Does my employer keep such sporty chick magnets in its motor pool and if so 2.) How can I get assigned one to drive around?:
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