Linda, a Chinese woman smaller than my 5’1 stature, tells me to let her know if she’s massaging me too hard. “It’s really good,” I reply in a mumble, which is an honest response. She uses her knuckles to knead my back and I feel like pizza dough, in a good way. The woman knows her deep tissue massage.
The last time I went for a massage was in a semi-luxury spa that my husband found to treat me after I broke down back in 2017, a year after I arrived in the U.S. for the first time. I’ve seen countless of Asian-owned massage spas, but I have never set foot in them. I guess I wasn’t sure what to expect.
I’ve been suffering from back and shoulder pain for a week now and I decided to just look for a massage place near me. I see one just five minutes down the road and they have a 4.7 stars from 61 reviews on Google. That’s always a good indication for me. Reviews are powerful and I never go for anything below 4 stars. I went on to book a one-hour session. As I sit and write this, I feel like a wonderfully toasted bread thanks to Linda. I asked the owner, who is Chinese, how long their establishment has been around for. They said they’ve been here for seven years.
As an immigrant myself, I wonder how much they’ve went through as an Asian owner to set up a business in a majority white neighborhood. I wonder if they were ever worried about being in danger, much like the hate crime that happened in the Atlanta spa last month. I wonder how Linda’s own immigration story goes. She said she’s fairly new to the country herself during my brief chat with her after the session. I tip her more than 20% because she is amazing.
Our stories of how we got here are different. I went through the entire 90-day fiancé ordeal, minus the drama, and I’ve known my husband for two and a half years before he proposed to me. Linda has her own story for sure. Then there’s Li, my co-worker who is also from China.
Yesterday, we spent the afternoon huddled over a hotpot in her Philadelphia apartment and munching oversized lumpia that I made. We’ve planned for this celebration of finally becoming vaccinated and seeing each other in person for the first time in a year. Li especially ordered the ingredients off an Asian food website. She explained to us each ingredient she put in the hotpot and how to make the sauces. The Chinese rice vinegar reminds me of the vinegar back in the Philippines, absolutely delicious.
Homemade hotpot with lumpia
I arrived early at her apartment because I misread the schedule. When she welcomed me to her home, her two cats, who were named in Chinese, welcomed me. She was in the process of beheading, deveining and peeling shrimp. I made a note to ask her where I can get the shrimp with its full exoskeleton because, boy, that’s where all the good flavors come from. This was also the first time I got to talk to Li about how she came to the country. She was a university student back in 2013 with an arts scholarship in Philly and found a job at our company after she graduated. The day didn’t go by without three of us immigrants in the group bemoaning how even as we follow U.S. immigration laws, it’s pretty frustratingly slow, expensive and anxiety-inducing.
Mille Crepe Vanilla cake at A La Mousse
My other plan for the day is that I’ll be seeing another friend of mine for the first time in a year tonight. To commemorate that, we’re heading off to Nom Wah, a dimsum BYOB restaurant in Chinatown, then go to a French-Asian inspired dessert place nearby called A La Mousse. When the pandemic started, a bunch of small AAPI-owned businesses closed, dealing with the crashing economy on top of receiving the brunt of ignorant frustration over the virus. I can never understand how there’s an appreciation for Asian food but a hate for Asian people, but it exists. Now that society is slowly recovering with the steady rollout of vaccinations, businesses are opening back up and people are allowed to see the world again, albeit in a new light. For me, it was time to enjoy some authentic dimsum while seeing friends I haven’t seen in a year.
Today, I’m grateful for the opportunity to remember fallen heroes that helped make this country free. But even more so, I’m happy to spend the long weekend supporting AAPI businesses and their significance in this country.