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月是故乡明，还是他乡明呢？对于小作者来说，在异国他乡的新生活中感到最困难的就是如何对待文化的冲突了。这考验了她对最“原本的”文化的忠诚度。不过作为小移民，最重要的是不能孤立自己，要让周围的人都看到自己身上的闪光点，融入到新的生活中去。
“You’re Chinese, Mei-Ling, right? Don’t they eat dogs in China?Rachel asked excitedly.
I gave an exasperated1 sigh, and was tempted to turn around and ignore her, but finally I gave in and managed a reluctant2 nod.
“See, I told you, Jess! I knew it!Rachel giggled with high nasal3 of hers.
“Thanks,she said, turning quickly to Jessica which apparently was my signal to leave. There was no more need for me; I was only a curiosity, an encyclopedia into another culture and another world, which could be opened and closed at will.
I secretly hated myself for accepting my fate. I dreamt of being stronger, like the warrior4 women of old, standing up and saying what I thought of Rachel and her petty assumptions and pert5 upturned nose.
High school is a cruel world. Being an immigrant only makes it harder. I have to deal with the questions that the blonds don’t have to answer. Do you eat dogs for breakfast? Why are your eyes so small? When I see people snickering at my accent, I imagine them butchering6 the Chinese language.
I went back home and answered my mother’s questions, an almost ritualistic7 interrogation8 now. “Did you have a good day at school? Did you meet new friends? Isn’t America a wonderful place?”
I answered obediently, “Yes, yes, and yes,lying through my teeth.
I moped and sulked, knowing all along that nothing would come of it. I missed the smell of China, the mood and life of China. The suburbs here were so sterile9, all clean identical houses lined up on carefully pruned streets, so dead, in comparison.
The night passed uneventfully. As always.
I got up for another day of school.
In History class, we were learning about the ancient Chinese dynasties. The teacher kept on asking me if I happened to know anything. I had no choice but to play dumb and shake my head.
At lunch, I always sit in my own little corner in the cafeteria. I did try sitting with some other girls once but it was so horribly awkward; I just felt more comfortable alone. To my surprise, Janine, one of those girls, came along and plunked10 down her food on my table. “You mind?she asked.
I shook my head. “History was so boring, though, wasn’t it?she continued. “And Mr Gerald kept on asking you as if you knew anything. Just because you’re Chinese. How embarrassing.”
I laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. Just slightly annoying.”
“So, Miss Lai,Janine said, blinking widely, just as Mr Gerald did. The Tang Dynasty lasted about 300 years, isn’t that right?”
Mr Gerald was just walking by and cast a wary glance back. Janine quickly covered her mouth and we both cracked up11 hysterically.
“So...I started, not wanting to be rude, but rushing on anyway, “What brings you to the outcast table?”
Janine looked surprised by my question, “Come on, Mei-Ling. You’re not an outcast. No one’s casting you out. You’re the one who’s isolating yourself.”
I raised my voice to protest but she continued, “I saw that whole Rachel incident yesterday. Everyone did.”
“Well, that makes me feel great,I muttered.
“It’s more embarrassing for Rachel. We all knew she was stupid but really...”
“I don’t think she was really embarrassed.”
“Just don’t think about that. Anyway, I see you watching, judging everyone from your little corner. You can’t assume that just because Rachel is so narrow-minded that everyone else is as idiotic...”
I interrupted her. “I am not judging you guys on that. I’m not making any assumptions at all. I just happen to feel that—”
“That we Americans can’t understand or appreciate your more Chinese sensibility. Or you’re too good for us ignorant Americans. Which one is it?Janine sighed. “Look, I’m just saying, give us a chance. You’re as guilty as Rachel in believing the stereotypes.”
I didn’t know what to say. I muttered something under my breath about martyrs12 and flying pigs but I knew that Janine was serious.
“Just think about it. You’re a good, decent person. Let other people see that in you,she winked at me slyly. “And besides—dog tastes great in America, too.”
“美菱，你是中国人，对吗？中国人是不是连狗肉都吃啊？”雷切尔兴奋地问。
我被她的话激怒了，哼了一声，真想立即转身不搭理她，但最后我还是妥协了，极其不情愿地点了点头。
“瞧，我说的没错吧，杰西！我就知道准是这样！”雷切尔吃吃地笑着，笑声中还夹杂着浓重的鼻音。
“谢谢，”她说着，并飞快地转向杰西卡，这似乎是给我的一个小小的提示：我现在可以走了；这里已经没我什么事了；我对她们来说只是个让人好奇的东西，只是一本供她们了解异域文化和另一个世界的百科全书，任她们随心所欲地翻开或者合起来。
我暗暗地痛恨自己为什么要接受这样的命运。我曾梦想自己变得多么坚强，就像古时候的女战士，骄傲地站在雷切尔面前，并大声地说出自己对她狭隘卑鄙的假想和她那傲慢的翘鼻子的极度不满。
中学是个残酷的世界。而对于我这个“移民”来说就更是如履薄冰了。那些金发碧眼的白人学生不必回答的问题，我却不得不应付。你们早餐的时候吃狗肉吗？你们的眼睛为什么那么小？当我发现有人在窃窃地嘲笑我的口音时，我便能想象出她们糟蹋中文时的嘴脸。
而当我回到家的时候又会面对妈妈的一切问题，现在这几乎成了一种审问性的仪式。“今天在学校过得开心吗？你交到新朋友了吗？美国的确是个好地方，不是吗？”
我顺从地回答着“是、是、是”，而我知道，这些从我的牙缝里挤出来的话全部都是谎言。
我闷闷不乐，心情极度郁闷，因为我知道一切都不会有结果。我怀念中国的气味，眷恋着中国的生活情趣。这里的郊区毫无生机，所有的房子都很整洁，很讲究地排列在修整得整整齐齐的街道旁，就像一个模子里刻出来的一般，和中国的建筑相比而言，一切都是那么死气沉沉。
夜晚通常很平和地就过去了，向来都是如此。
第二天，我还是照样起床上学。
在历史课上，我们学习了中国古代的各个朝代。老师一直不停地问我，好像我上通天文、下知地理似的。我别无选择，只能装傻，一个劲儿地摇头。
吃午饭的时候，我总是坐在自助餐厅里属于自己的那个小角落里。我也曾试图和其他的女孩儿坐在一起，但那实在是一件异常尴尬的事情；我独自一人的时候通常会感觉更舒服一些。但让我吃惊的是，她们其中的一个叫简妮的女孩儿径直朝我走过来，“砰”的一声把她的饭盒往我的桌子上一搁，问道：“坐这里不介意吧？”
我摇了摇头。“历史课真是够无聊的，你不觉得吗？”她又继续说道，“而且杰拉德先生总是不停地提问你，好像你无所不知似的。就因为你是中国人。这多让人难堪啊。”
我笑了笑，说道：“其实也没那么严重。只不过让人觉得有点厌烦罢了。”
“那么，赖小姐，”简妮说，一双大眼睛闪烁其词，就像杰拉德先生一样，“唐代的确是延续了大约300年，我说的对吗？”
这时杰拉德先生恰好从旁边走过，他机警地回头瞥了一眼。简妮急忙闭上自己的嘴，与此同时，我们一起疯狂地吹捧起杰拉德先生来。
“那么……”我又一次开始了话题。我并不想显得很粗鲁，但还是不顾一切地继续说：“你为什么又要来到这张被极度‘排斥’的餐桌？”
简妮被我的问题惊得目瞪口呆。“不要这样，美菱。你没有被遗弃，也没有人排斥你。让你感到孤立的人正是你自己。”
我提高嗓门表示抗议，可是她却接着说，“昨天雷切尔那件事我全都看到了。每个人都看到了。”
“是吗？那件事给我的感觉真棒，”我小声嘀咕着。
“但是，更应该感到尴尬的人是雷切尔。我们都知道是她脑子晕了，但是说真的……”
“我并不觉得她有多尴尬。”
“先别想那件事了。无论如何，我都看到你每次坐在你的‘小地盘’里观察并且判断着每一个人。你不能就因为雷切尔的小心眼而认为我们大家都很愚蠢……”
我不顾一切地打断她说：“我没有在那里评判你们。我根本没有做任何的假想。我只是碰巧觉得——”
“觉得我们美国人不能理解或者欣赏你那种更中国化的敏感? 还是和我们这些无知的美国人相比而言你看上去更优秀？是哪一个？”简妮叹了口气，说道：“好了，我只是想说，请给我们彼此一个机会。你和雷切尔犯了同样一个的错误——依然墨守陈规，拿很早以前的观点来评价现在的一切。”
我真的不知道该说什么了。我低声地咕哝着那些殉道者和飞天猪的事情，但是我知道，简妮是认真的。
“你也想想吧。我觉得你是一个正直的好人。那也就让其他人看到你的这些闪光点吧，”她冲我顽皮地眨了眨眼，“哦，还有一件事——其实美国的狗肉也很香。”
水绘 摘译自American Life
“You’re Chinese, Mei-Ling, right? Don’t they eat dogs in China?Rachel asked excitedly.
I gave an exasperated1 sigh, and was tempted to turn around and ignore her, but finally I gave in and managed a reluctant2 nod.
“See, I told you, Jess! I knew it!Rachel giggled with high nasal3 of hers.
“Thanks,she said, turning quickly to Jessica which apparently was my signal to leave. There was no more need for me; I was only a curiosity, an encyclopedia into another culture and another world, which could be opened and closed at will.
I secretly hated myself for accepting my fate. I dreamt of being stronger, like the warrior4 women of old, standing up and saying what I thought of Rachel and her petty assumptions and pert5 upturned nose.
High school is a cruel world. Being an immigrant only makes it harder. I have to deal with the questions that the blonds don’t have to answer. Do you eat dogs for breakfast? Why are your eyes so small? When I see people snickering at my accent, I imagine them butchering6 the Chinese language.
I went back home and answered my mother’s questions, an almost ritualistic7 interrogation8 now. “Did you have a good day at school? Did you meet new friends? Isn’t America a wonderful place?”
I answered obediently, “Yes, yes, and yes,lying through my teeth.
I moped and sulked, knowing all along that nothing would come of it. I missed the smell of China, the mood and life of China. The suburbs here were so sterile9, all clean identical houses lined up on carefully pruned streets, so dead, in comparison.
The night passed uneventfully. As always.
I got up for another day of school.
In History class, we were learning about the ancient Chinese dynasties. The teacher kept on asking me if I happened to know anything. I had no choice but to play dumb and shake my head.
At lunch, I always sit in my own little corner in the cafeteria. I did try sitting with some other girls once but it was so horribly awkward; I just felt more comfortable alone. To my surprise, Janine, one of those girls, came along and plunked10 down her food on my table. “You mind?she asked.
I shook my head. “History was so boring, though, wasn’t it?she continued. “And Mr Gerald kept on asking you as if you knew anything. Just because you’re Chinese. How embarrassing.”
I laughed. “It wasn’t that bad. Just slightly annoying.”
“So, Miss Lai,Janine said, blinking widely, just as Mr Gerald did. The Tang Dynasty lasted about 300 years, isn’t that right?”
Mr Gerald was just walking by and cast a wary glance back. Janine quickly covered her mouth and we both cracked up11 hysterically.
“So...I started, not wanting to be rude, but rushing on anyway, “What brings you to the outcast table?”
Janine looked surprised by my question, “Come on, Mei-Ling. You’re not an outcast. No one’s casting you out. You’re the one who’s isolating yourself.”
I raised my voice to protest but she continued, “I saw that whole Rachel incident yesterday. Everyone did.”
“Well, that makes me feel great,I muttered.
“It’s more embarrassing for Rachel. We all knew she was stupid but really...”
“I don’t think she was really embarrassed.”
“Just don’t think about that. Anyway, I see you watching, judging everyone from your little corner. You can’t assume that just because Rachel is so narrow-minded that everyone else is as idiotic...”
I interrupted her. “I am not judging you guys on that. I’m not making any assumptions at all. I just happen to feel that—”
“That we Americans can’t understand or appreciate your more Chinese sensibility. Or you’re too good for us ignorant Americans. Which one is it?Janine sighed. “Look, I’m just saying, give us a chance. You’re as guilty as Rachel in believing the stereotypes.”
I didn’t know what to say. I muttered something under my breath about martyrs12 and flying pigs but I knew that Janine was serious.
“Just think about it. You’re a good, decent person. Let other people see that in you,she winked at me slyly. “And besides—dog tastes great in America, too.”
“美菱，你是中国人，对吗？中国人是不是连狗肉都吃啊？”雷切尔兴奋地问。
我被她的话激怒了，哼了一声，真想立即转身不搭理她，但最后我还是妥协了，极其不情愿地点了点头。
“瞧，我说的没错吧，杰西！我就知道准是这样！”雷切尔吃吃地笑着，笑声中还夹杂着浓重的鼻音。
“谢谢，”她说着，并飞快地转向杰西卡，这似乎是给我的一个小小的提示：我现在可以走了；这里已经没我什么事了；我对她们来说只是个让人好奇的东西，只是一本供她们了解异域文化和另一个世界的百科全书，任她们随心所欲地翻开或者合起来。
我暗暗地痛恨自己为什么要接受这样的命运。我曾梦想自己变得多么坚强，就像古时候的女战士，骄傲地站在雷切尔面前，并大声地说出自己对她狭隘卑鄙的假想和她那傲慢的翘鼻子的极度不满。
中学是个残酷的世界。而对于我这个“移民”来说就更是如履薄冰了。那些金发碧眼的白人学生不必回答的问题，我却不得不应付。你们早餐的时候吃狗肉吗？你们的眼睛为什么那么小？当我发现有人在窃窃地嘲笑我的口音时，我便能想象出她们糟蹋中文时的嘴脸。
而当我回到家的时候又会面对妈妈的一切问题，现在这几乎成了一种审问性的仪式。“今天在学校过得开心吗？你交到新朋友了吗？美国的确是个好地方，不是吗？”
我顺从地回答着“是、是、是”，而我知道，这些从我的牙缝里挤出来的话全部都是谎言。
我闷闷不乐，心情极度郁闷，因为我知道一切都不会有结果。我怀念中国的气味，眷恋着中国的生活情趣。这里的郊区毫无生机，所有的房子都很整洁，很讲究地排列在修整得整整齐齐的街道旁，就像一个模子里刻出来的一般，和中国的建筑相比而言，一切都是那么死气沉沉。
夜晚通常很平和地就过去了，向来都是如此。
第二天，我还是照样起床上学。
在历史课上，我们学习了中国古代的各个朝代。老师一直不停地问我，好像我上通天文、下知地理似的。我别无选择，只能装傻，一个劲儿地摇头。
吃午饭的时候，我总是坐在自助餐厅里属于自己的那个小角落里。我也曾试图和其他的女孩儿坐在一起，但那实在是一件异常尴尬的事情；我独自一人的时候通常会感觉更舒服一些。但让我吃惊的是，她们其中的一个叫简妮的女孩儿径直朝我走过来，“砰”的一声把她的饭盒往我的桌子上一搁，问道：“坐这里不介意吧？”
我摇了摇头。“历史课真是够无聊的，你不觉得吗？”她又继续说道，“而且杰拉德先生总是不停地提问你，好像你无所不知似的。就因为你是中国人。这多让人难堪啊。”
我笑了笑，说道：“其实也没那么严重。只不过让人觉得有点厌烦罢了。”
“那么，赖小姐，”简妮说，一双大眼睛闪烁其词，就像杰拉德先生一样，“唐代的确是延续了大约300年，我说的对吗？”
这时杰拉德先生恰好从旁边走过，他机警地回头瞥了一眼。简妮急忙闭上自己的嘴，与此同时，我们一起疯狂地吹捧起杰拉德先生来。
“那么……”我又一次开始了话题。我并不想显得很粗鲁，但还是不顾一切地继续说：“你为什么又要来到这张被极度‘排斥’的餐桌？”
简妮被我的问题惊得目瞪口呆。“不要这样，美菱。你没有被遗弃，也没有人排斥你。让你感到孤立的人正是你自己。”
我提高嗓门表示抗议，可是她却接着说，“昨天雷切尔那件事我全都看到了。每个人都看到了。”
“是吗？那件事给我的感觉真棒，”我小声嘀咕着。
“但是，更应该感到尴尬的人是雷切尔。我们都知道是她脑子晕了，但是说真的……”
“我并不觉得她有多尴尬。”
“先别想那件事了。无论如何，我都看到你每次坐在你的‘小地盘’里观察并且判断着每一个人。你不能就因为雷切尔的小心眼而认为我们大家都很愚蠢……”
我不顾一切地打断她说：“我没有在那里评判你们。我根本没有做任何的假想。我只是碰巧觉得——”
“觉得我们美国人不能理解或者欣赏你那种更中国化的敏感? 还是和我们这些无知的美国人相比而言你看上去更优秀？是哪一个？”简妮叹了口气，说道：“好了，我只是想说，请给我们彼此一个机会。你和雷切尔犯了同样一个的错误——依然墨守陈规，拿很早以前的观点来评价现在的一切。”
我真的不知道该说什么了。我低声地咕哝着那些殉道者和飞天猪的事情，但是我知道，简妮是认真的。
“你也想想吧。我觉得你是一个正直的好人。那也就让其他人看到你的这些闪光点吧，”她冲我顽皮地眨了眨眼，“哦，还有一件事——其实美国的狗肉也很香。”
水绘 摘译自American Life