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I have zero shame admitting that I love Starbucks, especially in China. In any major city, there is going to be at least one Starbucks SOMEWHERE. The best part of this is that it’s exactly like a Starbucks in America – the same smell when you enter, the similar displays, almost the exact same menu, and the same overpriced lattes and macchiatos. It is mildly pathetic, but going into a Starbucks is little bit like going home.
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Ok not exactly like the Starbucks in Greenville…
On the other hand, 9 out of 10 times, it is also a very real reminder that I’m NOT home and I’m very much an outsider in China, and always will be. After six months in China, I visited a friend in Beijing and of course, we went to Starbucks. She ordered her latte, they asked her name, and then I ordered – but no one asked my name. How would they know which drink was which?
By writing “外” ,wài, as in “外国人” wàiguórén, which is literally “outside country person” or foreigner. This was one of those “are you serious” moments, but I mainly thought it was funny and just a one time thing from a clueless barista.
And then it happened about eight more times in two other provinces.
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Hainan, Beijing, Chengdu. Thanks guys.
It didn’t matter if I ordered completely in Mandarin or English, if there was a line of people or not, I ended up with on my“外” cup or nothing at all. No one was asking my name, but people behind and in front of me had THEIR names on their cups.
I know it’s not a huge deal, but it’s just a very tangible reminder that I “don’t even go here.” It sucks to place an order for a grande iced caramel macchiato and a French croissant, warmed please, FLUENTLY, in a second language that happens to be one of the hardest to learn, and then have someone write “外” on my cup as if that’s the only way to identify who I am, or how I’ll know which drink is which. Also, I’m basic and I’m wearing a North Face jacket: obviously I know what a carmel macchiato looks like.
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It looks like this <333
I love China, a lot, but I truly believe that if I lived here permanently, became outrageously fluent, had a cell phone case with rabbit ears and a boyfriend I beat up with my purse, the whole thing, it wouldn’t matter – someone would still be writing “outside” on my cup. Because I’m not Chinese and this isn’t my home, and even if China becomes more diverse, I’m never going to fit everyone’s idea of someone who lives here.
All of that being said, 1 out of 100 times, someone does actually ask my name. My third time in the Starbucks at Dadonghai (大东海）the barista asked me for my name to which my immediate response was “YOU’RE NOT GOING TO WRITE OUTSIDE?!?” and he didn’t! He asked my name, confirmed it (unlike every other Starbucks barista ever) and it was one of my best moments in China. I am not kidding, I almost cried.
Image may be NSFW.
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For now, I really don’t need to fit in 100% – that would be weird, and my nose and eyes won’t let me do that. But I do need the occasional local human to treat me not like a Chinese person, but just an actual person, with a name. It doesn’t take a lot, but it makes all the difference.
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