Reading William Poy Lee's Eighth Promise. Lee is a Toisan-American and the similarities of his growing up experiences, even though he was in San Francisco and I in Wichita, are more than our differences.
Toisan perceived by many as the hick dialect of Chinese - yea.
Herbal soups were a battle ground with my Mom, too.
I could figure out most of his romanized Toisan words; this is digging back to 50-year ago.
He's had more success in blossoming into a lawyer, activist and writer. Is the Toisan roots that important for every Toisan-American to get his act together?
Would a visit to the home village be enlightening or as some who've gone back, a trial of grubby "relatives" demanding tribute to those you suffered and did not get away?
