The Oddity

When I make the decision to leave my on-campus apartment, I spend at least 30 minutes organizing my backpack and checking my appearance. I worry about being too warm (the daytime temperature is in the 80s here now) but worry more about being stared at because my arms or legs are not completely covered. It is strange to be an oddity. I’m certain that I have expressed these feelings here before. The feelings accompany me everywhere on every day that I’m in China.

Internally, I struggle with the idea that I should be comfortable in my body. At home, I’m pretty comfortable, but some of my in-my-head dialogue is the same. I recently learned that my worries at home are the same as other fat people. Will there be enough space in the booth at the restaurant? Can I eat what I want, or will I feel like people are looking at me? What do the chairs look like and will they hold my weight? Is there a place where I can sit/stand and take up a “normal” amount of space? How can I be as invisible as possible? At home, I can manage these worries. I arrive early, choose an out of the way space to settle, don’t move unless I absolutely have to, and eat when and what everyone else is eating. In China, these strategies have proven ineffective because the difference goes much deeper than just being fat.

A friend spent a year in Nanjing. In the U.S., he is a conventionally attractive man, but he also looks different from nearly everyone in China. He told me, “Just stare back.” So, I do. I usually smile as well, but I return the stares rather than looking away, ashamed to be different. The staring makes me feel like I have more control over my existence.

To clarify, I’m not seeking pity or apologies. I’m just pondering the odd sensation of worrying about my body every moment of every day and wondering how many people feel this in my home country. A Chinese friend who has spent a lot of time the U.S. said that it’s not as isolating in the U.S. because there is so much physical diversity present. He spent most of his time in large coastal cities. He went on to explain that in China, people are relatively homogenous and view themselves as such.

I wonder about the experience of a person who looks different than their community. My youngest aunt was adopted from Hawaii. She is Hawaiian. She’s beautiful, but definitely doesn’t look like a farmer’s kid from the predominantly Scandinavian and German community she ended up in. In 1967, my grandparents moved to a tiny rural community in north central Iowa with a child who looked nothing like any of her white classmates. As a special bonus, she also had siblings who resented her presence in their lives. She grew up to have many “problems” as an adult and those issues have proven generational for her own children. I have often wondered what her growing up experience was like. It is strange to be the oddity. It seems unhealthy to be the novelty in a sea of what appears to be similarity.

As with many experiences during these three months in Beijing, I am leaving with more questions than answers. However, I am certain that I will be extremely glad to be home where I am more insulated from open judgment. I sincerely wish that all people felt that security in their home communities.  

The temperature was nearly 90 degrees. I'm wearing my long-sleeved sweater tied around my waist. Later in the day, I would be asked if I wanted to change my clothes "to look more professional." Except for my shoes, I thought I looked nice.