Visiting the country your parents are from is both wonderful and complicated

I was hit with a large dose of pre-flight jitters before travelling to China last October, which couldn't be explained away by a fear of turbulence or overweight luggage. It was going to my first visit as an adult to the country my parents immigrated from.  

I hadn't been since I was 11 and had no idea what to expect.

What if I didn't feel a connection — with the country or my relatives? What if I felt like a stranger? What if I hated it?

A family trip to the motherland 

My parents and two siblings, along with my aunty and cousins, all embarked on a trip to the motherland. Collectively, we cancelled work trips, missed weddings and used our annual leave to make the trip together, unsure if we'd have a chance like this again.

The plan was to visit my parents' respective families in Shantou and Shenzhen, before heading to the awe-inspiring landscapes of Jiuzhaigou national park.

In the fortnight we spent overseas there was no shortage of surprises. Newer houses came with tea sets built into living room coffee tables, roads in my mum's hometown didn't have speed limits, and the Pepsi just tasted better.

But the biggest surprise hit me when I was sipping my seventh cup of black tea in my uncle's home.

Eating the food of my ancestors every day, riding around on an electric scooter, bickering in my parents' native tongue, Teochew… I could see it all.

Imagining my parallel life

This speculative parallel universe is something I ponder regularly — instead of emigrating to Melbourne, what if my parents had chosen to move to the US? England? Or Brisbane? What if they had opted to stay in China?

I used to pity the imaginary version of myself who grew up in Asia.

And while I love the pét-nat-sipping, cheese-toastie-eating life I have here, that previous sense of pity has been replaced by a melancholy ache.

The trip to China reminded me that I didn't grow up surrounded by dozens of people who look and sound and laugh like me. I'm a bystander to my extended family, and someone who holds down WeChat messages to auto-translate them.

A visit to the homeland will always be just that

It's been months since my trip to China and my eyes well up when I think too much about it, and the fact that a visit to the homeland will always just be a visit. I think my sisters also felt — and feel — this complicated longing.

I gently told my mum about my changing relationship with our ancestral homeland the other day. Her, sitting on the couch folding laundry. Me, facing the opposite direction on the piano stool. I told her everything I've written here. She choked up and I did too.

How lucky are we to have something to miss, to have someone to look forward to seeing again?

Maggie Zhou is a Naarm/Melbourne based writer who is chronically online. She co-hosts the Culture Club podcast.