陳晚
寂靜，歡喜。
博主注解：我代表孩子感謝所有宴請過我們的親朋好友們，這篇文章僅以二寶的姑姑為例，二寶算是對事不對人吧。希望二寶在國內的所有長輩們能體諒孩子的一番心情。二寶寫的是英文，中文翻譯是由我來完成的。本文已經發表於<<漢納>>雜誌第四期。
我在中國敬酒的痛苦經曆/Toast in China
大概每隔一年，我和家人都會回中國過暑假。每次回國，我們都很開心。我們去不同的地方玩兒，我學了很多新東西。我們既參觀了中國的著名景點，也到一些鮮為人知的小地方去旅遊。所有的這些旅遊經曆都讓我感到很快樂。
總的來說，中國人比美國人講究正式的禮儀。具體來說，去中國的餐館或親戚家赴宴，比在美國要緊張多了。我，身為中國人的後裔，會比很多人更容易適應中國習俗；但作為一個外籍人，要想完全理解中國文化和禮儀幾乎是不可能的。2011年我和家人回國時，我有過一次失敗的敬酒經曆。這次回國，我依然擔心在某個正式的晚宴上，我還得向賓主們敬酒。因為我的中文口語並不能應用自如，敬酒時我總是驚惶失措，不知說什麽才好。
這次我們回國六星期，假期已過了四分之三時，我很幸運一直沒有人讓我敬酒。可在中國逗留的最後幾周內，難以避免的敬酒事件終於又來了。有一天，我二姑邀請我們和她的中國朋友們一起吃晚餐。身為中國人，他們都很懂敬酒之道。二姑讓我站起來給大家敬酒，她認為，會敬酒是成熟和自信的表現。我一聽，立刻呆住了。
在美國，從來沒有人讓我給誰敬酒。首先，我年齡不夠，根本就不能喝酒；第二，對一個高中生來說，這種場合太正式了。一見此狀，我緊張忙亂地讓我的媽媽救我！雖然媽媽幫我周旋了一下，但她並沒有免去我的尷尬，也沒有消除二姑對我的失望。我隻好私下給二姑一個人敬了酒，盡量打發這個難堪的場麵。最後二姑還算滿意，不再責怪我了。
又過了幾天，媽媽、弟弟，還有我，又被邀請去姑姑家聚餐。唉！敬酒的事兒又來了。我們每個人的酒杯裏都有酒，臨到讓我給大家一一敬酒時，我心裏悄悄地說，這裏都是家人，快點兒結束敬酒吧。我總覺得，我是否給大家敬酒，從長遠來看，對他們並沒有什麽意義。盡管我是這樣想的，我還是站起來，給每一位叔叔、阿姨和客人敬酒。
當我給二姑敬酒時，我向她表達了我誠摯的謝意，並感謝她對我的慷慨幫助。當時我沒有告訴她，但現在我覺得我應該讓她知道，我感謝她讓我明白了一個事實：讓一個在美國出生的華裔在中國文化中生存，是多麽的困難重重啊！
Toast in China
Every other year, if not every year, my family and I travel to China during summer vacation. Each time, we do fun things, go to new places, and learn new things. We have been to both popular tourist attractions and obscure sights, all of them new experiences and sources of happy times.
In general, Chinese people tend to have much more formalities than American people do; it got to the point where going to any dinner or relative’s house was thousands of times more stressful than that in the US. I, being with Chinese roots, I can say it was much easier than most to adapt to Chinese customs, but as a foreigner, fully understanding the culture is a feat that is arguably impossible to accomplish. Because of a debacle during the last time my family visited in 2011, I dreaded the inevitability of having to toast host and guest during an oh-so formal dinner. The idea of standing up and speaking, in a less-than-fluent language, caused so much stress as I struggled to figure out what and how to speak.
Up until about three quarters of the six weeks stay in China, I successfully avoided the toast. But during the last few weeks of the stay, the inevitable event finally came. My second aunt on my dad’s side invited us to a dinner with other colleagues that were Chinese and therefore much more accustomed to the art. My aunt invited me to stand and toast everyone. She told me that it was a mark of a sociable and confident person. I instantly froze up.
No one in the US had ever asked me to toast wine, one because I couldn’t even drink wine, and two, it was much too formal for any of the events of a high schooler. I frantically begged with my eyes for my mother to save me, which she did. It didn’t save me from the embarrassment and the disappointed pity of my aunt. I partially made up for it by privately toasting my aunt, and she somewhat regained respect for me.
Fast forward a few days. My mother, brother and I were again invited to a dinner, this time at my aunt’s house. Again the toast issue came up. We were all poured wine (some a lot more than others). This time when the toast came around, I just thought to myself to, quite simply, just get over it. I told myself that those people were family; however I toast wouldn’t mean much to them in the long run.
I got up and toasted each aunt, uncle, and guest there. When I reached my second aunt on my dad’s side, I toasted her for all the obvious reasons: thanks for the hospitality and generosity. I didn’t tell her at the time, but I now know that I should have thanked her for helping me, however bluntly, learn something new that day: one part, however difficult for an American born Chinese, of what it takes to survive in the world of Chinese culture.
