本文讲述了Maria Hsin在父亲去世后，前往上海工作并重新连接中国根的故事。Maria从小在美国长大，父亲是华人，母亲是墨西哥人。她通过食物了解父亲的文化，并在父亲去世后，来到上海生活。在上海，她体验了便捷的生活方式，探索了这座城市，感受到了家的温暖。尽管最终回到美国，但上海对她而言，永远是特别的存在，承载着她对父亲的思念和对中国文化的探索。这段经历让她更深入地了解自己的身份认同，并与父亲的故土建立了深刻的联系。

🏡 Maria Hsin在美国长大，虽然有华人父亲，但从小主要学习英语和西班牙语。父亲去世后，她选择前往上海，希望重新连接自己的中国根，并体验父亲的故乡文化。

🍜 通过父亲的饮食习惯，Maria间接了解了父亲的文化背景。她回忆起与父亲一起在洛杉矶唐人街购买食材的经历，以及庆祝节日时品尝的美食，这些都成为了她对父亲和中国文化最初的印象。

🏙️ 在上海生活期间，Maria体验了便捷的城市生活，包括便捷的交通、低廉的生活成本和丰富的食物选择。她喜欢在上海的大街小巷中漫步，感受这座城市独特的魅力，并逐渐爱上了这里的生活。

💔 尽管Maria最终因工作原因回到了美国，但上海在她心中永远占据着特殊的地位。这段经历让她更深入地了解了自己的身份认同，并与父亲的故土建立了深刻的联系，上海永远是她心中的家。

Maria Hsin grew up in Los Angeles with a Chinese dad and a Mexican mom.At home, she learned how to speak English and Spanish, but no Mandarin.After her dad died, she spent two years living in Shanghai, and wants to return.

I went to Shanghai for the first time in 1987. My grandma had died, and the family plan was to spend a month in China.

It was my Chinese father's first trip back since he'd immigrated to the US in the late 1960s.

Sleeping in my father's family's home, meeting relatives for the first time, sharing meals, hearing Mandarin all around me, and navigating the maze of their neighborhood marked the beginning of my connection to Shanghai.

My Shanghainese father met my Mexican mother near Los Angeles in the 1970s, and I grew up speaking English and Spanish. I even chose Spanish as my minor in college.

But I didn't speak Mandarin. Growing up, my father didn't talk about his past or his Chinese roots.

Instead, it was through food that I learned about my dad. Our trips to Chinatown provided me with a peek into his world. Before the days of international food aisles in grocery stores, trips to LA's Chinatown were necessary for Chinese ingredients — my dad did a lot of cooking.

Chinatown was also where we went to celebrate special occasions. As a kid, I remember the excitement of catching glimpses of the Lunar New Year dragon parade from a restaurant.

For birthdays, we would stop by Phoenix Bakery to pick up a strawberry whipped cream cake with sliced almonds.

Looking after my dad

My parents divorced when I was in college, and it put a real strain on my relationship with my dad. But in my late 20s, we slowly began to reconnect.

I remember him hosting a Chinese Thanksgiving. One of my cousins cooked crab with green onion, egg, and ginger.

After my dad had a stroke that left him paralysed on the left side of his body, he was unable to speak.

I helped as a caretaker during the last two years of his life. I scheduled appointments, managed transportation, went with him to doctor's appointments, prodded medical staff to do as much as possible, and cheered on his physical therapy progress.

Our Chinese connection

My dad died in 2017. Two years later, I traveled back to China.

I walked the streets of Shanghai, after what would've been his 83rd birthday, and I felt that at any moment, I would turn a corner and bump into him.

I'd think about him — almost as if I could hear his voice — whenever I smelled dumplings frying and tried to decide which variety to choose. I reveled in the hum of people walking, cycling, or rushing to their destinations. I loved watching early morning deliveries — boxes of fresh vegetables dropped off at restaurant doors.

Struggling to pronounce words in Mandarin added to the vibrancy.

Shanghai felt electric, and as the city revealed itself to me, I knew my father was watching over me, welcoming me back to his hometown or laughing at my attempts to speak Mandarin.

The majority of that trip was spent in Shanghai, but I also visited Hong Kong to see my grandfather's grave and spent three days in Beijing.

Shanghai felt like home

I was drawn to Shanghai and wanted to move there. At the time, I was in graduate school, switching careers from journalism to urban planning.

I came across an English teaching position in Shanghai. I had yet to make peace with my father's passing, and in addition to the high cost of living in LA, I felt I needed a change.

I arrived in Shanghai with two suitcases and from January 2023 to earlier this year, I called China home. I worked as an English teacher and corporate language instructor.

In Shanghai, the ease and options for getting around, the low cost of living, incredible food, and widespread use of digital wallets made life feel incredibly convenient. I also loved exploring the city.

Across from the hotel we stayed at in 1987 — which is walking distance from where my dad's family home once stood — I often found comfort. When the weather was good, I'd sit on a bench, munching on a shao bing, a Chinese flatbread a little larger than a corn tortilla, which became one of my favorite snacks.

And I fell in love with walking — to get a latte, pick up steamed pork buns, to meet friends, or just take in the city. Something I had rarely done in LA.

I wandered Shanghai's wide streets and its small, tucked-away alleys lined with old homes. In those quiet lanes, far from the boulevards and busy pedestrian promenades, Old Shanghai still lingers — patiently waiting to tell its stories.

I was happy about the life I was creating.

The old parts of the city made me think back to that treasured first visit with my father. In many ways, Shanghai will always feel like home.

When my employment contract ended and the job offers I received were insufficient to keep me in Shanghai, I moved back to the US.

But I didn't feel ready to leave.