CASSANDRA GORGEOUS

Back in high school, I took an accounting course that taught me the meaning of the term “FOB.”  Free On Board.  It means free shipping to the point of destination.  When I came to San Francisco, I learned a new, and more definitive meaning: FRESH OFF the BOAT.  New immigrants.  Heavily accented.  Caricature specimens.

For my readers in the Midwest (or anywhere else lacking a significant Asian population), the acronym FOB is most often used by another subset of the Asian population: the ABC’s (American Born Chinese).  We use the term FOB, often in a pejorative sense, to describe our brothers and sister who look like us, yet couldn’t be stranger than if they came from Mars.

I suppose I am a hybrid of sorts: I wasn’t born here, but I grew up here starting from the 3^rd grade.  I’m a FOB/ABC.  I know how to think in both cultures. 

I started a new job this week as a filing clerk.  The files consisted mostly of Chinese and English documents.  I was hired as a Chinese reader; I got paid a little bit more. 

But I had to work with some major FOB’s.  You know how I write a lot about how Chinese I am?  Well, the truth is that I am very American Chinese.  I worked with my FOB cousins for a mere 5 hours before I realized…

I.  Don’t.  Really.  Like.  Chinese.  People.

Reuben says we dislike in others what we really hate in ourselves.  At the end of the day, it’s our own issues that we project onto other people.  I guess I’m ambivalent about being Chinese.  I understand what it’s like to be Chinese.  I know the language.  I know the thought process.  I carry the DNA.

But do we have to be so uncouth?

Because we were asked to work overtime, the company graciously offered us complimentary dinners.  No one loves food more than Cassandra.  But even I know that on the first day of work you at least have to put on the appearance of being consumed by the task at hand.  It’s not becoming to seem preoccupied with the freebie perks.  You either keep your mouth shut or you ask intelligent questions. 

What you *don’t* do is harp on the limit of the dinner stipend.  Or which dining establishments you may order from.  Or whether if you can keep the stipend if you bring your dinner from home.

When the Chinese lady asked this last question I was so ashamed to be Chinese and sitting next to her. 

She actually had the nerve to ask the supervisor if she could surf the web for other employment opportunities (like Craigslist) when using the company computers.  She explained that other job sites don’t usually allow for this.  Apparently, she doesn’t understand WHY it’s not an accepted practice.

Do you feel me?  Are you ever ashamed of your people? 

There were two Caucasian file clerks in the group.  Since they were filing only English documents it goes without saying that they would be paid less.  After all, there is a premium to being fluent in a second language.

But, if you already know this, why state the obvious?

Why must that Chinese lady ask the “American” file clerk, how much do you get paid?

She received a response that was polite, yet left no doubt as to the inappropriateness of the question: I don’t feel comfortable discussing it.  How much do YOU get paid, the American reviewer countered.

And then the Chinese lady shut up.

I don’t think the Chinese lady is a bad person.  She’s just very Chinese.  Very competitive.  Show-offish. Universal traits, to be sure.  But the problem is that she just doesn’t get it.  That there is a different way to do things in America.

Everyone is competitive.  We are all secretly juggling our assessment of how we rank compared to our peers.  But there is a culturally accepted way of doing it.  Here in America, there is an American way.  I guess I would characterize it as daggers hidden in subtlety: you pry for information under false pretenses. 

But the Chinese lady – and the other FOB’s: they don’t get it.  They come across as having no tact.  They are seen as having bad manners.

I know all this, but I don’t have the balls to pull the Chinese Lady aside and tell her.

She reminds me too much of my mom.