Cherreads

Chapter 12 - China

by Viviana videos

The first thing you should know about China is that it's huge.

The second thing?

Apparently, I'm a celebrity here—not because of YouTube, not because of my charm (though that helps), but because I'm Black.

I stepped off the plane and before I even reached immigration, three people had already taken secret photos of me like I was Beyoncé's understudy.

Bro, one woman even gasped—GASPED—and whispered to her husband, "Hei mei!"

I didn't know what that meant at first, but later I learned it translates to "Black beauty."

I'm not gonna lie, my ego inflated faster than the Chinese economy.

But that was Day 1. By Day 7, I realized being a "Black beauty" in China comes with side quests nobody warned me about.

1. The Stares (A.K.A. "The Vivian Exhibit")

Everywhere I went, eyes followed me.

Subway?

Stares.

Street market?

Stares.

Temple?

Stares and someone tried to touch my braids.

One grandpa even followed me for five straight minutes, smiling like he just discovered a new Pokémon.

I turned around and said, "Ni hao?"

He froze like his graphics card crashed.

Now don't get me wrong—it's not malicious.

Most of the time, it's pure curiosity.

But when you've got twenty people filming you while you're just trying to buy dumplings, you start to feel like an unreleased Marvel character.

I began posing on purpose—chin up, slow turns just to give them something to work with.

If I'm gonna be stared at, I might as well serve foreign queen energy.

************

2. The Food Fiasco

Chinese food in China is not the same as "Chinese food" in America.

There's no orange chicken, no fortune cookies, and definitely no "chicken broccoli combo."

What they do have is flavor chaos and fire levels that can summon ancestors.

First week, I tried something called mala hotpot.

They said, "Spicy or not spicy?"

I said, "Oh, I'm half African. I can handle spice."

Comrades.…being half was not enough.

I could not handle the spice.

Halfway through the meal, I started negotiating with my organs.

"Okay, lungs, hang in there. Tongue, you're doing your best. Stomach, I'm sorry for everything I've ever done."

The waiter looked concerned.

"Too hot?"

I nodded, tears streaming.

"We can make mild next time." he said.

Mild? Sir, this was lava with seasoning!

But it wasn't all pain. I discovered baozi (steamed buns), zhajiangmian (noodles that changed my life), and a street food called jianbing—basically a crepe that could end wars.

If jianbing had a Twitter, I'd be its biggest fan account.

*******

3. Shopping: The Curiosity Discount (or Tax?)

Shopping in China as a foreigner is an Olympic sport.

Bargaining isn't optional—it's survival.

I walked into a street market, pointed at a jacket, and the lady said,

"800 yuan."

I laughed so loud I startled a pigeon.

"Sister, that jacket costs 200 on Taobao."

She blinked, then smiled and said,

"For you… 700?"

Ma'am. What is this negotiation?

After 15 minutes of dramatic sighs, calculator typing, and my best attempt at saying "tai gui le" (too expensive), we settled on 250 yuan.

Victory never tasted so sweet.

But every time I opened my mouth to speak Chinese, people stared like they'd just seen their Alexa speak Arabic.

"Wow! You speak Chinese?"

"A little."

"No, no, your pronunciation is very good!"

Translation: We didn't expect you to know anything beyond "ni hao."

*******

4. The Hair Saga

Listen.

If you're a Black woman abroad, hair care becomes a spiritual battle.

I walked into a salon one day, pointed at my braids, and said, "Can you wash this gently?"

The stylist nodded confidently.

Ten minutes later, she brought out scissors.

I leapt out of that chair like Spider-Man mid-battle.

"NOOO! Don't you dare!!"

She looked confused.

"Why? I make it neat!"

Ma'am.

These braids cost my rent money and my sanity. Touch them and I will legally combust.

Eventually, I found an African American-owned salon in Shanghai.

The moment I stepped in and heard Afrobeats and pop music playing, I almost cried.

I felt like I'd found the Promised Land.

They even had shea butter.

SHEA BUTTER, PEOPLE!!!

**********

5. The Language Adventures

Now, Mandarin is a beautiful language… but it has tones.

And those tones? They humbled me.

For example: "Ma" can mean mother, horse, hemp, or scold depending on how you say it.

So one time I tried to compliment a lady's mother.

I thought I said, "Your mom is nice."

Apparently, I said, "Your horse is kind."

She looked at me like I'd just cursed her bloodline.

Another time, I wanted to say "I'm hungry."

Instead, I said "I'm a dumpling."

And honestly? That one felt emotionally accurate.

But the Chinese people? So patient.

Even when I butchered sentences, they smiled, corrected me, and offered food.

Hospitality level: S-tier.

**********

6. The Subway Chronicles

China's public transport is like something from the future.

Everything's clean, efficient, and has a QR code.

You can literally pay for snacks, laundry, or a haircut with WeChat Pay.

But the subway rides?

Bro, every morning, I was surrounded by fifty people… and all of them pretending not to stare.

Sometimes a brave kid would whisper,

"Wa, hei ren!" ("Wow, a Black person!")

His mom would shush him so fast the air pressure changed.

One day, an old man smiled at me, pointed to my hair, and gave me a thumbs-up.

No words. Just approval.

And I swear that was the first time in my life I felt like I'd passed a universal vibe check.

************

7. The Accidental Influencer.

So, remember the staring?

One day I was walking through a park in Beijing, wearing a yellow dress, minding my business.

Next thing, someone says,

"Can I take picture?"

I said sure, why not.

But then suddenly there were six people. Then ten. Then twenty.

It became a full-on photoshoot.

I was posing like, "OKAY fine, left side, lighting's good."

Two days later, I found myself on a Chinese social app— Caption: "African-American princess visits Beijing!"

Ma'am. I was just going to buy bubble tea.

But hey, I gained 4,200 followers overnight, so who am I to complain?

Apparently, I'm an international sensation now.

*********

8. The Identity Reflection

Here's the thing though—underneath all the comedy, the spice, and the selfies… it hit me.

Living in China as a Black woman means living at the intersection of fascination and invisibility.

People notice you everywhere, yet sometimes they don't see you.

I've had strangers point, but also strangers help me find my way, pay for my food, or teach me words I mispronounced.

Every encounter—awkward or sweet reminded me that curiosity isn't always prejudice.

Sometimes, it's just the world meeting something new for the first time.

And me?

I get to be that something new.

It's exhausting, it's hilarious, it's powerful.

***************

9. The Night Market Epiphany

One night in Chengdu, I was sitting at a street stall, eating noodles so spicy they were probably illegal in some countries.

An old lady sat next to me. She didn't speak English and i barely spoke Mandarin.

But she smiled, poured me a drink, and raised her glass.

"Pengyou," she said.

Friend.

And we just sat there, two worlds apart, united by food and mutual suffering from chili.

That's when I realized something:

The world isn't as divided as we think.

We're just lost in translation—sometimes literally.

***************

10. The Vivian Verdict

So yeah, China?

10/10 for adventure.

6/10 for hair products.

100/10 for food (if you survive it).

Would I go back? Absolutely!!

Because despite all the confusion, stares, and spice-related trauma, I learned that curiosity, kindness, and chaos can exist in the same bowl of noodles.

And if you ever go there, remember: Smile, learn to say "bu yao la" (no spicy), and keep your braids protected.

Because in China, you're not just visiting—you're starring in The Viviana Show

"So yes, comrades, China didn't change me, it upgraded my Wi-Fi, humbled my tongue, and made me fall in love with dumplings.

I came here a tourist… and left as a legend.

The end. Or as they say here… 完了 (wan le) hehehe "

END OF VIDEO 🇨🇳

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