Berkley Center

In Madrid, I almost forget that I am Chinese American. Even though Spain is homogeneously white compared to the United States, I haven’t gotten the stares I was expecting here. Perhaps this is because Madrid is demographically one of the more diverse and cosmopolitan cities in Spain, and more specifically, perhaps due to the fledgling, and increasingly visible, Chinese immigrant population in Madrid.

Nonetheless, I have learned that this “acceptance” is frankly not a sign of understanding but of ignorance. The presence of non-white minorities in Madrid is now commonplace, but the idea of race is still in extremely nascent stages of development. Although this is more visible in the older generations than in my fellow students, the most glaring differences between Spain and the United States manifest when it comes to navigating race. 

Racism is not nearly as salient of an issue in Spain as in the United States, mainly because race is acknowledged in ways that are tolerated in Spain but problematic in the American society. I learned that in Spain, those of Asian descent are referred to as Orientales, a term rendered obsolete in the United States. Chinese immigrants in Madrid are usually owners of small convenience stores, resulting in Madridians commonly referring to all such stores as los chinos, regardless of who actually runs them. Thus, although blatant racism might not be common, other forms of prejudice and ignorance are more insidious because they are not recognized as racism, thus going unaddressed. 

One of my professors once asked me where I was from. When I told him that I am from the United States, he asked if I am Chinese. Even though I pointedly told him, “My parents are, yes,” he responded, "Well, then you’re Chinese too.” He then pointed out the one other Chinese person in the class, immediately grouping us together. 

Due to such incidents, I find myself resisting expectations of how I am supposed to act, often subconsciously. At the university’s international student orientation, I immediately noticed that I was one of the only Asian students of the over 500 exchange students in the room. After orientation, I saw a group of three Asian students chatting in Chinese and exchanging numbers; I instinctively avoided them. Analyzing that decision now, I think it was because I did not want to be grouped and immediately categorized as just another person from China. 

However, I cannot ignore that I am Chinese American, as a recent visit to one of los chinos reminded me. After walking into the store, I asked the shopkeeper in Chinese where she is from. We chatted about our backgrounds, how long we had been in Spain (her: 30 years, me: 1 week), where I studied, etc. After I paid, she offered me a free piece of gum. We had bonded.

I experienced a disproportionate amount of comfort from that brief interaction. Even though she was a complete stranger, there was an immediate connection. How is it possible that I can feel an instant connection to people with whom I do not even share a nationality? More importantly, how can I expect to distance myself from being grouped with other Chinese people if I still feel such a strong connection?

These realizations in a country that has not had to think very much about race have led me to question the assumptions I took for granted growing up in the United States, where race is an extremely sensitive issue. At orientation in Madrid, I was told that terms such as “Oriental” and los chinos are just signs of ignorance and cultural difference; I was instructed not to get offended. How, then, do I balance adapting to the culture in which I now find myself versus asserting my personal identity at the risk of challenging cultural norms? I also wonder how my upbringing in the United States—and with it, an increased awareness of race—might obligate me to explain more nuanced notions of race. 

My host mom once asked me if I ever felt offended by the terms “Oriental” or los chinos. I wasn’t sure how to respond. I wasn’t particularly hurt by the terms because I knew that when she and other Spaniards used such vocabulary, they weren’t necessarily using them with malice. But how do we match intention to the act? Was it my responsibility to explain that the terms might be considered offensive to others? Also, I couldn’t even disentangle how I wanted to be perceived: How could I want to belong to the Chinese community in Madrid without being grouped as just Chinese? So was I even qualified to give such explanations?

Through my experiences thus far in Madrid, I find it hard to navigate between the culture, my personal identity, and the very different framework through which race is viewed in the United States. So far, all I have come up with are more questions. However, in talking to my host mother, for example, I have appreciated the opportunity to engage in more for dialogue. I myself am left with questions, but I wonder if she might have more to think about as well. While a full understanding of race is impossible, mutual discussion is a good place to start.