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| Graphic design is my passion |
I turned 18 roughly three years ago, in October 2014.
Every year for my birthday, my parents try to treat me to an exciting dinner that is befitting of their special little girl turning another year older. This works out pretty well because I like food and I try to keep up with the food scene in Christchurch—plus, my family is always willing to try new places and viciously rank each meal we get until we have a clear winner.
Conveniently, in 2014 I had heard murmurs of a really great Asian fusion restaurant that had just opened up in the slowly regenerating Christchurch CBD. This was Bamboozle. My Dad and I in particular take a great deal of joy in looking at Asian fusion restaurants, because we consider ourselves superior cooks pretentious foodies and both grew up with excellent examples of Chinese cooking. We looked up Bamboozle gleefully, leaning over my phone screen to see what astronomical price we might have to pay for dumplings.
On their home page, just under a stylized 'Asian' header, Bamboozle quietly declares themselves to be an ORIENTAL KITCHEN & BAR. While not particularly racist, the term 'Oriental' is outdated and reeks of old people that order deep fried spring rolls at yum cha. Not a good start, but this was New Zealand. What can you do? The menu came next, and we held our breath as the PDF loaded. Now, I'm a faster reader than my Dad, but I'm a bit stupider, so I had to sound out the meal names phonetically in order to understand what they said. Forgive me, but whatever accent the menu was supposed to mimic just didn't come naturally to me.
Speaking them aloud made me feel sick. I remember, because I don't know how to do an 'Asian accent' as fluently and as readily as some others may be able to. I may be Chinese, but I have never had trouble with 'Ls' and have always been able to pronounce 'TH'. Not only this, but I had chosen to read "Won ton kouw kum nou", which I think is some kind of cum joke. Worst of all, the wontons cost $16.50 for four of them—that's over $4 for one dumpling. Dad and I recoiled from the menu. I closed the tab.
In the end, I decided we should go to Fiddlesticks. (★★/★★★★★)
This experience with Bamboozle has been with me for such a long time that by the time Stuff.co.nz's review came out, I was almost ambivalent. Even now, I'm writing this late—my post comes several articles, polls and think-pieces later than it could have. I remember mentioning Bamboozle to friends over the years after The Birthday Discovery, to receive mostly support for my offence taken and disdain for whomever the owner was. However, over time, the fire I felt about doing something to this restaurant slowly died out. This is New Zealand, what can you do?
This is the main thing that I can tell you about existing as an Asian person in a Western society. You never stop noticing racism, but you can definitely stop caring. Micro-aggression, macro-aggression, just-plain-aggression; it all amounts to the kind of racism that is so deeply entrenched in the world around you that you just get tired. I am still constantly thinking about how Asian people are discriminated against every single day, and recently I've been thinking about how I can actively alleviate some of that pain, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take someone to task over them complimenting my make up by calling it "...nice and Chinese." Despite being somebody that takes pride in their culture and relishes defending its honour, I've learned over time that I have to pick my battles.
Phillip Kraal is the kind of guy that makes me angry all over again. Phillip Kraal is the kind of guy to take someone's culture, make it worse, then make fun of them as he profits off centuries of hard work and hard living. The idea that your food isn't good enough for a white man until he sprinkles cheese and cheap jokes all over it is familiar in a way that Asian people know as second nature. So is the knowledge that once bastardized, your food will be treated with more respect than your ancestors that invented it, or your peers that have perfected it. The same isn't only applicable to Bamboozle, or to just Asian food. Strides made in the fields of technology, the arts, and entertainment made by Asian people all over the globe still aren't enough to for us to command the respect that Phillip Kraal gets from Cantabrians defending his funny little jokes.
The Bamboozle menu is racist. This is the only statement about this situation that I believe with my entire being. Perception means that some people will find this racism funny, and some people will find it harmless, while the rest have no opinion whatsoever. I care more and more about the experiences that I face as a Chinese woman—rather than just notice them—which made Bamboozle's racism truly intolerable. How I choose to react will now be more active, emphatic and productive, because I owe it to myself. The question I used to ask in passivity is now determined: What can I do?
The Bamboozle menu is racist. This is the only statement about this situation that I believe with my entire being. Perception means that some people will find this racism funny, and some people will find it harmless, while the rest have no opinion whatsoever. I care more and more about the experiences that I face as a Chinese woman—rather than just notice them—which made Bamboozle's racism truly intolerable. How I choose to react will now be more active, emphatic and productive, because I owe it to myself. The question I used to ask in passivity is now determined: What can I do?