Mei Jen
Author’s Note: Mei Jen is the first part of a two-part autobiography series on myself through the life of my great-grandmother, whom I’ve never met. Following the short story on my great-grandmother is an explanation of the prose you just read. The second part of this series is titled Dear 太奶奶.
宣 Hsuan
First, she was a Hsuan. Spending her juvenescence working the tender fields plowed between jade mountains and cerulean waters, Mei Jen grew up smelling the trees and tasting the sky in Zhu Ji, sipping a glass full of sunshine in the depths of indigence. Her house, a skeleton of compacted earth and broken branches, often winced as it sheltered her family of eight. She was one of six siblings born into that destitute-ridden household, hindered by money to attend middle school, let alone achieve higher education. Her younger siblings, however, managed to attend college after immigrating to the Pearl of the Orient, Shanghai, finding their calling in textiles and similar trades. Her closest brother, H.C. Hsuan often brought her gifts and stories from the East, building their bond one visit at a time.
In the midst of the civil war, H.C. prospered from the undergarment industry, trading with nearby places like Taiwan or Hong Kong. In 1940, he was enlisted by the army in the fatal job of making uniforms for soldiers. Prior to the military assignment, all of his employees had evacuated the factory. He depended on his family, Mei Jen included, and other farmers from his village to meticulously craft uniforms. If he failed to produce the order by the time the soldiers returned, he would have been heartlessly shot. But just as he was successful in achieving his wealth, he escaped death with the help of his family.
When Mei Jen reached adolescence, she was bound by marriage to a man she despised. He was more desirable on paper – had money, a house, but never had her love. H.C., witnessing his sister’s misery, paid handsome fees to terminate the marriage and set his sister free. He revitalized her smile. In return, Mei Jen stayed at his house, taking care of his children, undertaking household chores, and even working at his shop in Shanghai. She found familiarity in her new home, nothing fleeting but time itself.
赵 Chao
Fateful coincidence, 缘分, her family will call it. In the vivace tempo of the city, they happened to come from the same pastoral village. He happened to be business partners with her brother, H.C. And he happened to come into the shop that day, finding her at the counter sewing buttons.
Shanghai was the city of magic, 魔城, a pearl in a sea of sand. The supernatural forces that bound their ankles with red thread struck in the hazy mist of the metropolis. They were married six years later and had one son, Tian Shian Chao. Like branches of a beech tree, their small family became closely intertwined with H.C. ’s, Tian Shian becoming H.C. ’s son and H.C. ’s children becoming Mei Jen’s.
Soon, whispers of the KMT retreat flooded the city, dreams of escaping persecution hanging above the modest family’s head. And in 1948, the fateful retreat occurred. When H.C. was on a business trip out of the city, his family and Mei Jen’s were evacuated onto a ferry heading south by Nationalist generals, torn away from their home in Shanghai, their home in Zhu Ji. Devastated, returning to a hollowed out home, H.C. chased his family by train. And when the train was bombed, on foot. His feet stung at every contact with the robust surface but the hopes of reuniting with his family kept him sprinting. At last, he boarded the ship, sailing to a new life, with a set of new opportunities and challenges in Taiwan.
美 Mei
美, there was a certain beauty in their escape. The dilapidated state of Taiwan was no different from her home in Zhu Ji. The worn-out blocks of cement people inhabited held no ground against the seismic activity that shook the island every so often. Mei Jen set up her home on Nanjing East Road, blocks away from the wealthy but down the street from H.C. and his family. Though her house was modest in size, her weekly parties were grandiose yet elegant. Melodies from traditional Beijing opera singers drowned the walls as new friends indulge themselves in opulent servings of homemade food and engage in intense rounds of Mahjong. The air was saturated with shrills and giggles, the shuffling of ceramic mahjong tiles, murmurs of secrets concealed in red wraps, occasionally accented by the round echo of the gong, covering the low voices of the men in suits. Zhu Ji and Shanghai were in the past, across the strait. You couldn’t hear their cries underneath the music, now.
When Mei Jen entered the room in her brightest qipao and a warm smile hugging her face, the room fell quiet, the silence magnified by her presence. Despite her small frame, she was the lion, the head of the house. Her footsteps roared across the floor. Her cheeks were always powdered pink, her lips ruby red, and when she opened her mouth, her voice roared.
贞 Jen
贞 takes on the meaning of virtuous, chaste, and loyal. Mei Jen was the confidant of
many of her acquaintances, the epitome of loyalty. Her lavish parties may seem superficial on the surface, an affair of elegance, but it was those parties that enticed more people into the embrace of her friendship. She had kind eyes and a big heart, always putting others first. During dinner, she would serve the biggest, most appealing pieces to her guests and leave the meager portions for herself. Her trustworthy disposition made her friend's family and when they stepped through the entrance of her house, they were home.
Within her own home, Mei Jen raised her son, Tian Shian, with extra precaution. He was born prematurely at 3lbs and needed shots every day to survive. She brought him to health within a few years and he took after her, becoming more generous than she was. Not only did she care for Tian Shian and H.C. ’s children, but she also extended her love and hospitality to include another child - a second son. She adopted Tian Bao into the family after Tian Bao’s biological family were unable to care for him. He was her son, and she loved him and spoiled him as such. Her pure generosity was like gold, heavy and desirable. Blood doesn’t matter – when you step into her domain of love, you are home. In this manner, Mei Jen’s legacy was embedded in the hearts of her descendants.
Mei Jen Artist Statement
“Mei Jen”, my autobiographical creative writing piece, answers the question “where are you from” by defining home through my Great-Grandmother’s narrative. Immigration changes perspective on home. The home was never a place, but a feeling. As I live in more and more places and witness the rising conflicts of the nations I am supposedly “from”, I’ve grown unattached to physical locations, instead, stressing more about physical awareness. For example, Taiwan and China’s tensions are rising as one side seeks independence and the other suppresses it. I grew up in China as someone ethnically Chinese and Taiwanese. My modern lineage, Mei Jen and family, aligns with both sides of the strait, unable to rid ourselves of the nationalism we have for either country. At the same time, my family has moved between the US, China, and Taiwan consistently throughout the last 50 years. I was born in Shanghai as an American citizen and visit all three nations every year. I cannot communicate smoothly in Chinese, yet in the US, my voice is silenced by the institution at the foundation of this country. I may not be displaced by war, but I am vacant in citizenship and allegiance to a flag, homeless on a larger scale.
Home to me, similar to Mei Jen, is when I am with my family. In the story, I emphasize the description of the different places Mei Jen has lived because it shows the various interpretations of a house but the same sense of home throughout. Mei Jen is a part of the home that I carry around. I know that wherever I am, wherever I go, Mei Jen will always be there guiding me. Currently, I attend boarding school in New Jersey alone, with no family around. I am separated from my grandparents in California, my dog in Shanghai, and my parents and sister in Taiwan. I need to find my home. Like Mei Jen, my group of friends acts like my family, my home away from home. However, sometimes, you truly need your relatives around. I need Mei Jen as a beacon of hope, otherwise being separated by half the diameter of Earth from your family can feel like carrying the weight of the world when you’re sixteen.
Artistically speaking, I decided to use Chinese characters throughout this piece to serve as a connection to my heritage and honor the language that I speak the most: “Chinglish”. I also reference some Chinese myths and cultural information, unknown to the common eye, such as the Red Thread of Fate. My word choice often coincided with Mei Jen’s name: 赵宣美贞 (Chao Hsuan Mei Jen). In Chinese semantics, each character holds multiple connotations and can represent different ideas across each family. For example, “宣” (Hsuan) is my great-grandmother's maiden name, her connection to her family. She always kept this name close to her heart, reminding her of her childhood in Zhu Ji. “赵” (Chao) is my great grandfather’s name, as she took it on symbolizing their relationship and dedication to one another. “美” (Mei) means beautiful and I used adjectives that particularly evoke beauty to emphasize her elegant presence. “贞”, chaste and pure but also faithful and loyal are the pillar traits Mei Jen bears. I used language and told stories in accordance with each of these characters, representing Mei Jen through both her name and her journey.
Mei Jen’s story is a journey from a small farm town to a city and then to an island. Even though she still cares about the roots she grew up in each location, the most important outcome of her refuge was that her family was by her side the entire time. Mei Jen is my family, my great-grandmother, and my home. We share the name “Jen”. Her “Jen” (貞) is chaste, mine (真) true. We are different variations of the same line of people. I never suffered the pain of fleeing a country ravaged by war and I might never bear a fraction of the warmth she held within her, but I will always try to be the strong, dominant woman she is.
