Self-image is always a weird thing for me. I wouldn't say that I have terribly low self-esteem or low self-image, but on a spectrum, I also wouldn't venture to say that I'm up at the top. What I consider the top, I consider, "Wow, look at my sculpted abs and biceps and tell me how pretty I am because I can cut diamonds on my gluts."...or something like that. Mostly, I would just say that I really don't have to be reminded of how I look very often unless I'm standing in front of a mirror trying to pop a zit.
Since I've moved to China, this is not the case. Upon arrival, there was some sort of magical wave I walked through when I left the airport that told everyone to stare. Stare at me. Just keep staring. Without shame.
At first, this was a little disconcerting. All I had to think in my head was, "They know. They know that I'm not from here and they hate me. They think I'm weird and am wondering why I even got on the plane in the first place." While some of that could be true (since I'm just speculating here), I've been informed a lot of the time that this stare is associated with pretty, handsome, good-looking, and maybe even exotic. Haha, me? Handsome, you say? I began taking this with the mindset that this was what you did when you met someone: you give them compliments."Oh, I really like the color of your shoes." "Your hair looks very nice today." "You look much better in jeans and a t-shirt than in an orange jumpsuit."
Over time though, I find myself beginning to think a little bit differently. This constant barrage or compliments has begun to inflate my ego. I find myself sitting on the bus, watching young teenage girls trying to take a picture of me discretely and thinking to myself, "You know what's going on."
Huh?
Who is that person talking? Where most places I would consider myself plain, they have started to give me fodder to flame a small ego into a bonfire. I've recently started watching an obscene amount of America's Next Top Model* and found myself thinking how vain a lot of these girls are. "Wow, these girls are so vain; deep as puddles, they are." Then I thought back to myself and how the kids in kindergarten had told me I looked "like a movie star." Then I sit there with a stupid grin on my face.
Part of me would like to sit here and soak up the flood of compliments that come in, but it only makes me wonder where this is coming from. Yes, I am concerned about the self-image of the Chinese people.
While a lot of Chinese do not actually believe that I'm American (brown skin, dark hair, brown eyes), sometimes they tell me that I look kind of like northern Chinese. "Don't worry, they are very beautiful!" They tell me if this subject is approached. I'm usually not worried when someone gives me a compliment, but it's the fact that they have to clarify that this specific Chinese people are "beautiful" or "pretty" or "handsome."
"This can only be due to a general lack of self-image in the Chinese culture itself," I concluded. Somehow, I must fix this or at least ensure some kind of self-worth in these people. I've overcome bad body image (somewhat) and I can do it to them to!
"You're handsome." They will say.
"No, YOU'RE handsome!" I will say to the old woman on the bus.
I can hear now of all the ballads they will play after I leave their country. How I transformed every person into a proud creature who had some pride in their heritage. It would be me who led the "March of Self Image" down the streets of Zhengzhou where everyone could proudly say they were Chinese! Oh, what a glorious day that would be. I can only picture myself on a float, hoisted above the rest surveying my movement...
Then I find myself walking down the street, ready to start changing the world with a new positive attitude. I smile at the passersby while they stare with a rather blank expression. I pass children and then an old man where I hear a noise. A deep, guttural noise that sounds as if the phlegm he is trying to expel is connected to his very soul. Said phlegm then lands next to my right foot in a sad, yellow puddle, that slowly drips into the cracks where it will remain for the next few hours (possibly accompanied by others).
With my day spit upon, I walk down the street. Eventually, I get onto the bus where I'll sit down with a sour look on my face while I think to myself, "China can fix its own damn self-image problem."
*Don't judge, it's a fascinating show. Girls fighting over who gets to be prettiest doing ridiculous things to prove that they are "tougher than the rest." Someone always has a sob-story background and they all hate each other. The reality show fodder!
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