Wangfujing is a shopping street in Beijing, situated in Dongcheng District.
There is a chopsticks and utensils store next to the Snack Street (Xiao Chi Jie, 小吃街). Not the kind you can buy for $1 in any general store, but the very cultural kind that’s elegantly packaged and wrapped in colorful boxes. It’s a small hole-in-the-wall store that is as easily forgettable as the hundreds others nearby. Of all the large brand name boutiques and international companies located on Wangfujing, I chose to enter this one.
As I did, two female attendants sprung to life (as if they were surprised I opted to come in.) Inside were two other American tourists, clearly just looking to browse and not really interested in anything but taking pictures. But what was I doing in this store? Being a Korean American, I was definitely not unfamiliar with chopsticks, I’ve been using them since I can remember.
Lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed that the female attendant was asking me something in Chinese. Terrified, I quickly muttered to her in my broken Chinese, “no thanks.” Combined with my defensive body language, it probably came off as extremely dismissive. Inside my brain, I was shaming myself for my lacking Chinese and general everyday friendliness. What had she done to deserve my rudeness?
But the woman took my curtness in stride, smiled and went back to her work. I was dazzled and ashamed. Walking out of the store, I promised myself that before left Beijing, my Chinese skills (and subsequently my confidence) would improve to a level where I wasn’t struck with fear when asked for directions, but that I could blend in amongst the millions of locals here.
Article written by Wonmin Lee.
