Live to Travel

A warm breeze greeted me as I stepped out of the car on a beachfront along the coast of Weihai, a city of little significance to the typical tourist but of great significance to me. Following my grandma’s death, my visit was an attempt to hang onto what little I knew of her.

My grandma had four younger brothers, all of whom she lost touch with after she escaped to Hong Kong following an arranged marriage. She did not get to see them again until China implemented the open door policy under Deng Xiaoping’s rule in the 1980’s. I always wondered whether she ever doubted her choice of leaving her family behind to trade for the life that she lived in Hong Kong.

During my visit, I met over a dozen unfamiliar faces who were all related to my grandma. In the Chinese culture, family is of utmost importance – as long as you are related by blood, you are considered part of the family. Hence even though these relatives were complete strangers in my eyes, every effort was made to ensure that I was treated like a queen – from receiving me at the airport to chauffeuring me around to treating me to the best restaurants in town. One uncle had exclusive access to a part of the Bohai Sea on the coast of North-eastern China, and on one particular occasion, I was presented with every variety of seafood imaginable including sea cucumber’s stringy intestines.

On my last evening, my grandma’s nephew pulled out a few pieces of clothing. Though his current economic status allows him to afford two wives and wear designer brands, he would always remember how delighted he was to receive care packages from my grandma. “This one,” he says, pulling out a tattered 1990s jacket, “is my favourite not only because I looked like the coolest kid in the entire village, but also because it gave me hope that I will escape poverty one day.”

Watching my newfound relatives, in a moment I felt closer to my grandma than I ever had before. It was her deeply felt connection to her past and her ties to her family that she maintained certain ways of life. This was why she always made dumplings until her eyes failed her, and why she never bothered to learn Cantonese even though her grandchildren did not understand the Weihai dialect.

Whilst I would never know whether she would’ve stayed in Weihai or moved to Hong Kong given the choice again, I am grateful that her decision has allowed me to live the life that I do today – seeing, eating and travelling my way around the world.