Where I'm from

I’m from 336 Pudong District, Shanghai, China.
From Hudong Xincun Elementary School,
From Chinese calligraphy and watercolor painting lessons.

From heated rounds of Big Two,
TV controller wars with LongLong,
The delicate clatter of mahjong pieces,
And thick rings of cigarette smoke,
Permeating the kitchen and staining Yeye’s teeth a dark yellow.

I’m from red envelopes filled with coins and bills,
The slurping of soup noodles during Chinese New Year,
Scourging the neighbors’ yard for leftover firecrackers,
The day after celebration,
To set them off one by one, fingers jammed in our ears.

From salt popsicles in the clammy summers,
Lamb kebobs right off the grills on the street,
Candied haw desserts,
And fluffy white rice with every meal.

I’m from thrills — Clinging to uncle’s back while he zoomed past
blurry faces on his motorcycle,
Navigating through crowded alleyways at the farmers market, and
Rollerblading through nighttime streets, weaving in and out of elders
on their after dinner strolls.

From rusty orange apartments, flights of concrete stairs,
And ferry boat rides across the Yangtze River.

I’m from weekly phone calls with mom, our only line of connection until —

“You’re coming to America to live with us!”

I’m from 16-hr international flights,
And after school ESL lessons.

From cul-de-sac playdates,
Razor scooters,
McDonald’s drive thrus and
Saturday morning Nickelodeon cartoons.

Ready for a new life, but never ready to leave Shanghai behind,
And the piece of childhood that I call:

Home.