Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 420

The New Tales of Old Shanghai
Singapore International School (Hong Kong), Kong, Kirsten Ashley – 11
M
ei-An stretched her arms on a Sunday morning. The first rays of sunshine had begun to peek out over the
horizon, sending pink and gold streaks across the flaming orange sky. She was the daughter of a poor
Shanghainese couple who worked for an American family. Having spent her entire life serving them, Mei-An had
not only gotten used to the hard housework, but had made friends with the four children of the family. She also
spoke fluent English. Mei-An sighed and hung up a blue cardigan on the clothing rack. Even though her life was
pretty decent, she sometimes wished she was not a servant.
"Hey! Mei-An!" Just then, she heard a familiar girl's call. Mei-An spun around to see Jasmine, a girl with
long blond hair running towards her.
“What are you doing up so early?" inquired Mei-An.
"Finding you, of course! I can't believe my parents make you get up so early! You're only 12. You need to
sleep more!"
Mei-An laughed. Out of all the four Reese children, Jasmine was her closest friend. Not only were they the
same age, Jasmine best matched Mei-An's bubbly personality. Jasmine was also the prettiest girl in the family, with
a mass of wavy blond hair and the greenest eyes ever.
“You know, sometimes I do feel bad for you. You're Shanghainese. Why should you grow up in the
American concession? Besides, Chinese are always discriminated against here and you have to learn English too!”
“You're just saying that to make me feel bad. Really you want me to stay so you have someone to play
with!" exclaimed Mei-An laughingly.
Jasmine blushed. "Okay, that’s true, but I really do feel bad for you!"
Mei-An sighed. "Yeah."
As a young child, Mei-An had thought that even living in the American concession, there would be plenty
of other Chinese. However, as she grew older, she realized she was in the minority. Life in the concessions was
different.
The back door opened and Mei-An's mom, Lian, peeked her head out. "Girls, breakfast now come," she
called in her strong Chinese accent.
“Okay!” exclaimed the girls.
A few hours later, Mei-An walked down the streets of the American concession. All around, tall, skinny,
white Americans stared at her and whispered amongst themselves. Mei-An's cheeks flushed and bowing her head,
she hurried off to the market. This was the reason why she hated running errands. As one of the few Chinese in
the concession, she was often stared at weirdly by the rich Americans. Of course, it did not help that she was
dressed in worn, faded clothes. When Mei-An reached the busy street market, she made a beeline for the
butcher's shop and hurriedly got in line.
As she was queuing up, a short man with a stubby chin shoved her out of the way roughly. "Move it China
gal. Ya ain't belong here," he growled in a Southern accent. Mei-An blushed and reluctantly got back in line
behind the man. When it was finally her turn, Mei-An muttered, "Quarter pound of beef cheek and a pound of
chicken drumsticks please."
The butcher scowled. "Talk louder yellow face, or get outta here."
Mei-An almost cried. "I said, a quarter pound of beef cheek and a pound of chicken drumsticks please," she
sniffled.
The butcher rolled his eyes and stuffed the meat carelessly into a crumpled paper bag. "My money, yellow
face," he snorted, slamming his hand onto the counter. Mei-An dropped the money into his hand, grabbed the
horribly packed bag and ran off to the vegetable shop, hoping she would not be treated nearly as bad.
No such luck. At the vegetable and bread stalls, the shopkeepers treated her like rotten rubbish. By the time
Mei-An was running home, tears were sliding down her pink cheeks. "WHY!" she finally screamed, "Why am I
discriminated at so badly!"