Category Archives: Narrative

War Orphans in WW2 China (遗华日侨)

Context:

The informant is a senior undergraduate International student from China, studying at USC. She grow up in a very traditional Chinese household, and are well-educated in Chinese culture.

Text:

“This story is about the wife of my grandmother’s younger brother.

She was born in 1938, during the war between China and Japan, which was the early stage of World War II. Her biological father was an officer in the Nationalist Party. Her biological mother was a Chinese woman who could speak Japanese.

I think one of the big problems at the time was this: after Japan occupied Northeast China, many people born there — including Japanese settlers and local Northeasterners — experienced an identity crisis. They couldn’t tell whether they were Chinese or Japanese.

For the Japanese born there, they thought: “Our country has occupied this land. I was just born on land occupied by my country. I was born in the fourth year of the Shōwa era, so I am Japanese.” Later, when this land was redefined as China, they still considered themselves Japanese.

For the local Northeastern children, because the Japanese required everyone to learn Japanese, they spoke Chinese at home but had to speak Japanese at school and pledge loyalty to the Japanese Emperor. So they too experienced this identity confusion.

The mother in this story was exactly that kind of person with an identity crisis. Ethnically, she was Chinese, but she was fluent in Japanese and worked as an interpreter for the Japanese. Naturally, at that time, she was labeled a “traitor” (汉奸).

Around the time the War of Resistance against Japan was about to be won, in the mid-1940s, the Nationalist government was retreating to Taiwan around 1944–1945. Her biological father was very irresponsible. He bought only one boat ticket and abandoned the mother and daughter in Northeast China. The mother was left alone with a baby only five or six months old, barely able to carry her in her arms. Life was extremely difficult. Also, because she had been labeled a traitor, she couldn’t raise her child properly. So one day, she placed the baby on a woodpile in a rural area, hoping some kind-hearted person would adopt her.

Soon an old woman came out to gather firewood for the heated brick bed (炕) common in Northeast China. She found the baby. The baby hadn’t been wrapped properly — her right foot was exposed, which later caused a permanent disability. The old woman took the baby home and slowly began raising her. To be honest, the old woman wasn’t entirely kind-hearted: she wanted to raise the girl as a future child bride for her own son. But regardless of her intention, she did save the girl’s life.

The girl grew up in that household. Besides her future husband, there was an older brother, much older than her. The brother treated her more or less okay, but after he got married, the sister-in-law was not so kind. For example, when the girl wanted to study, the sister-in-law wouldn’t let her use the oil lamp. She suffered a lot, but through her own hard work, she got into China Agricultural University — which is still a prestigious university today.

When she grew up, the Cultural Revolution had already passed. Then, in the 1990s, someone contacted her, claiming to be her biological father. It turned out that he had never made it to Taiwan for various reasons. Later, during the Cultural Revolution, his identity as a former Nationalist officer was exposed, and he was severely persecuted, even losing the use of one leg.

As for her biological mother, she fared relatively better. After leaving the baby at the old woman’s home, the mother claimed to be a Japanese refugee. Since Chinese and Japanese people looked similar, and she spoke fluent Japanese, no one could tell the difference. Before the People’s Republic of China was founded, she managed to flee to Japan, where she remarried — a Japanese man — and lived a fairly happy life. Although the Japanese economy was poor after the war, under American occupation, people could still get enough to eat.

So, in the end, this is a family tragedy set against the backdrop of a turbulent era, but also a small family legend.”

Analysis:

This is family legend shaped by historical trauma, where large political events are understood through personal experience. It highlights themes of identity instability, as characters are caught between cultural and national affiliations and judged by shifting social norms. The narrative also reflects a common motif of abandonment and rescue, though presented with moral complexity rather than clear good or evil. Overall, the story shows how family narratives preserve cultural memory while helping later generations make sense of difficult and ambiguous histories.

The Haunted Forth Floor

Context:

The informant attended the same elementary school as me. We ended up going to different middle schools but somehow remained in contact. She is now studying Chinese literature at a highly selective university in China.

Text:

In the informant’s Chinese local college, there is a well-known student folklore about the “haunted fourth floor” of the Literature Building. Students say that after a certain hour in the evening, you should no longer step into the fourth floor, or else you will be cursed by a ghost who died in the building. There is also sayings that the literature building use to be a small factories, and a worker died from an accident yet their family was not compensate, thus he haunts the livings. Students sometimes would avoid staying there alone, especially during exam season.

The informant doesn’t believe in this ghost story. She thinks the fear is closely tied to the number four itself, which in Chinese pronunciation is similar to the word for “death” (死). Because of this association, the number is widely considered unlucky, and in some buildings it is either skipped or treated with discomfort. She considered this as superstition.

But when asked if she would go study there, she said no.

Analysis:

This folklore shows how superstition, memory, and academic pressure come together to shape student space and behavior. The “haunted fourth floor” draws on the cultural association between the number four and death, which gives the location an immediate symbolic unease even without belief in ghosts. At the same time, the story of a worker’s death adds a narrative of unresolved injustice, turning the building into a site of imagined haunting and moral tension. Even though the informant personally rejects the supernatural explanation, her reluctance to study there suggests that folklore can still influence behavior without belief.

Inky Binky Bonky

The Story:

“When I was younger, I had this tradition that I did with all of my friends. It started with my cousin, she taught it to me. But one of my favorite games growing up was tag and the way that we determined who would become or who would be the first to be it was Inky Binky Bonky. What we would do is we would come together and we would put our feet in a circle, and then we would chant the song while pointing onto each other’s toes. “

 “Inky Binky Bonky, 

daddy had a donkey, 

donkey died, 

daddy cried, 

what color was the donkey’s butt?”

“and then you land on somebody and then they give a color. If they’re like pink, you go P-I-N-K pink and then you’re out. That person’s out. And then you keep going until you have one person.

I taught the rhyme onto other people. My cousin did it because when I was younger the only rhymes I think were mutually accepted and known or widely known were like bubble gum bubble gum in a dish and Eenie Meenie Minie Moe, but Inky Binky Bonky, I had never heard of it. My cousin taught it to me and then I taught it to all of my friends.  The last age I played it, I would say maybe when I was like 11 or 12. I learned it, I want to say either kindergarten or first grade.  A twist I added was if it landed on me, I would count how many feet it would take for me to be it. Say a color that was longer, I knew that if I said pink, it would land on me, so I’m saying orange or I’m saying something else so that it’s somebody else. But yeah, I would just  use the color in my mind to navigate what I wanted to do and where I wanted to go.”

Reflection:

This interview and the informant reminded me of childlore and the multiplicity of folklore and how it can transcend regions but still have the original intent. The counting rhyme functions as a folk narrative in a shorter form, a verbal performance that assigns social roles and the weight they carry via rhythm, chance and choice. This also touches making do with whichever mediums are at hand and still perpetuating the original intent of the folk media. This version of a counting game, as well as some of the tactics used when determining social roles as implied by the rhyme are especially interesting. Although there is no direct author of this rhyme, it still exists and has several variations in different locations and regions. Further, it shows the creative control the informant and players of the game have when choosing the color when playing the game. It goes to show that while several versions of a game may exist, the original intent remains and the initiation players take to achieve the desired outcome. 

Comedic Ritual

Age: 20

The Story:

“I’m going to tell a story about an improv comedy club on campus. We have a lot of initiation rituals that are funny and weird and cute. I remember when I first got on the team my freshman year, that night they called you, it’s like a football draft. You audition for two teams and then they all take turns picking who they want. I got picked by my team, then I got a phone call from an unknown number to  meet me at this location on campus. They told me to meet them at *REDACTED*, which is like this little stage. “

“I went there and it’s like the middle of night, it’s like 10 p.m. and I was alone and it was dark for a little while. I thought ‘what did I sign up for?’ then they all were like dark clothes and like cloaks and they yell like comedy rules out in the woods. Then all at once they scream and yell at you to get to the stage. It was like a medieval theme going on in there. After getting to the stage, then they knight you, so you get on your knees, and then they knight you in the name of the club. It’s all in the middle of the night and terrifying, and then they take you to a secondary location.”

Pretty much all the teams do this, they kidnap their noobs, they’re called the noobs, they’re the new people, then they bring them to this diner called *REDACTED*. The staff already know just right now because it’s been happening for years. And then they treat you to just a really nice meal at this diner.

Reflection:

The informant’s story was a perfect example of how in certain folk groups, folk members must go through rites of passage to fully be accepted into the respective folk group. Additionally, it highlights the specific rituals in place amongst acceptance. I thought it was very interesting to see that these rites of passage were not only an act of dedication, but mutually were an opportunity to show the understanding of the traditions and morals of the respective folk group trying to be joined. On a more personal note, it was interesting to see some of the stigmas I may carry about clubs with rituals be broken down or disproved by an actual perspective. I, as the outsider to the folk group, had my own connotations that did not actually align with the personal experience of an actual member of the folk group. Further, it lessened any stereotypes that I carry when hearing about group initiations when hearing of clubs. I realized that in believing that many club initiations are harmful or taboo, I participated in watering down the culture and lived experience of participants of those folk groups instead of having a direct contact and understanding.

Spooky School Tale

Context:

Age: 19

Occupation: College Student

Location: Los Angeles, CA

The Story:

One of my friends lives  right next to this  old, like, middle school, it’s called Hogs Hollow, But because  one of my friends lived right next to there, and we would hanging out there, and one day after school was over we would sometimes like pop the fence and run around in there because they would leave all the doors open, so you could kind of just wander around in there. 

There were all these kinds of maze-like passages and stuff. I hadn’t been into the school but some of my friends had and so we decided to go in there and we were kind of wandering around it was dark and we decided to split up just because we thought it would make it more scary, you know, like, because we knew it was a bad idea. Then somebody heard a voice. And everybody started freaking out and running, and one of my friends  tripped over something and fell into a bunch of equipment, and there was all these loud noises and stuff, and everybody got freaked out.

Everybody went back to school and was talking about it, so it’s become a little bit more of a known thing at my school. I was kind of happy to be in sort of like the founding group of this our own little legend of this unknown myth. There were also some embellishments, I remember some stories saying we heard the voice at exactly 3 a.m. which I don’t think was true, but started going around, and that somebody saw like a little  middle schooler running around. It was kind of fun to see it like in real time develop into this sort of legend. 

Reflection:

When originally hearing this story from the informant, I thought it was interesting that the that the school operated as a contemporary legend that is set in the real world. The informant’s clarity of no one else being present but the friend group, but the rumor still spreading around the school is an example of metafolklore. Therefore, the location of this story, the school, starts ordinarily, but through the metafolklore and different versions created and spread, becomes saturated with fear and inauthenticity. Further, I think the real aspects of the story, such as the group splitting up and it being late at night also pave the way for embellishments of the story to amp it up in metafolklore. Although no time of the arrival was given and it was never shared which voice was heard, speculators assumed it was at 3AM and the voice of an old middle schooler was heard to fit the narrative of other folk stories they may have heard before. The informants proximity to the story allows for a social bonding factor for those within the folk group, but also ritualized performance that enacts group identity and belonging.