I’m Chinese, and the First Time I Saw a Panda Was in Washington, D.C.

Pandas and China are closely affiliated. As a Chinese person, I associate the two, especially given the vast majority of the world’s 1,925 pandas are in China.

However, for the first 26 years or so of my life, I never saw a panda.

I lived in China when I was two to four years old, so if my grandparents brought me to see a panda at that time, I don’t remember. I also visited when I was eight and when I was 14 for the summer to see extended family. Both times, I never saw a panda because there was no occasion to go to the zoo. As kids, we preferred going to carnivals and arcades over the zoo.

How could I, as a Chinese person who has spent considerable time in China, never have seen a panda except in YouTube videos and movies?

. . .

When I was in Japan for a summer, I talked to a Japanese person who lived about a 20-minute train ride from Mount Fuji and had lived there for most of their life. He had never been to Mount Fuji. It just wasn’t novel to him, and it certainly was not a bucket list item many international travelers or military service members stationed in Okinawa try to get off their bucket list. Mount Fuji is just, well, there, almost as background noise, and was a nice view when he looked up every once in a while.

As a teenager, I remember the first time I went to the Great Wall of China at 14 — some of my relatives who lived in Beijing had never been there, despite the Great Wall being virtually in their backyards. In fact, one family member who was our local guide was visibly annoyed with local merchants and vendors just outside various entrances to the Great Wall.

She told us the prices were scams and ripoffs and was able to drive a bargain to get the prices down from what tourists would usually pay. Despite being able to speak Chinese, my brother and I did not have this finesse since we were Americans. But some of these family members, like this Japanese person who lived near Mount Fuji, never went to see the Great Wall — it was cool to be next to, but not something to prioritize.

I felt the same way about pandas. My dad once told me that the first time he saw a panda, as someone who lived in China for about 32 years before immigrating to the U.S., was at the Washington, D.C. Smithsonian Zoo as well. I honestly don’t know how easy it is for the vast majority of Chinese people to see pandas at the zoo, or how popular it is. But it is one of the few things I have in common with my father.

I remember when I first saw the pandas at the very same zoo where my dad saw his first panda. They were incredibly cute — sleeping, rolling, falling from trees, and eating bamboo. I loved seeing the parent-child relationship and how attentively panda parents cared for their young. When I went to the D.C. Zoo, these pandas were by far the biggest attraction among adults and children alike. I’m somewhat indifferent towards zoos — I don’t love them or hate them, but I would rather drive an hour to go to the D.C. Zoo than go to a local zoo in Maryland because of the pandas.

I don’t think the attraction of pandas is just because they are cute. I think it’s also because they are rare and from afar and go viral on social media. To be able to see a panda in Washington, D.C. is kind of a shortcut to being able to see them in China. Plus, maybe there’s a sense that the pandas won’t be in this zoo forever — they’re on 10 year leases with China, but they are also a vulnerable species. Whether it’s Panda Express, Kung Fu Panda, or the panda being the logo of the World Wildlife Fund (WWF), the panda has had a growing influence in popular culture. So it’s probably a combination of factors.

. . .

However, it’s somewhat crazy that we can ignore the tourist attractions in our backyards, but travel hundreds or thousands of miles for an attraction far away. I think there’s something to be said for the idea that having Mount Fuji or pandas in your backyard dulls the novelty a bit and going away from home is what makes something an attraction. So it’s probably not as exciting for a Chinese person to see a panda at a Chinese zoo as it is in Washington, D.C.

We appreciate beauty afar, but often not at home.

I work close to the Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, and Reflecting Pool in D.C. I see tourists there all the time from many backgrounds. I regularly see kids from all over America on field trips. I see travelers from all over the world. I see devout Christians and Jehovah’s Witnesses trying to evangelize. Meanwhile, I’m going on runs and sifting through whole crowds of people and kids. I’m not appreciating these attractions, but for what it’s worth, I did visit both when I was younger.

Meanwhile, I’m just getting slightly annoyed at whole groups of people taking up the whole path and barely glancing at the attraction, if at all. Once in a while I’ll realize, “Oh, I have a good view of the Reflecting Pool,” and then take a picture and post it on my Instagram story, but this is maybe once every 20 times. Three out of four times when I pass the Lincoln Memorial or the Reflecting Pool on my run, I won’t even look at them since I’m running north or south along the National Mall.

I’m more focused on how fast I’m going on my watch or not bumping into a crowd of kids, tourists, or a group of Jehovah’s Witnesses as I navigate the area. There’s a distinct difference between me and the tourists: I’m focused on my routine, while many of them are more focused on the history and beauty of these attractions.

The Lincoln Memorial just came out with an underground museum. I intend to visit it at some point, but have not done so yet. It’s the reason most people living near major monuments don’t. I’m busy and seeing the tunnel is fun and recreational, but it’s something I won’t prioritize if I have a lot going on. Plus, it feels like this underground museum will always be there since it’s in my backyard and I can do it any time.

I want to try to break the pattern and find beauty in the daily routine and what I find more mundane. I think there’s something about seeing something every day that dulls our appreciation of it. An attraction does not need to be novel to be beautiful, and I think sometimes we treat vacation and sightseeing as an escape from the familiar rather than a return to it. But maybe there’s a way to appreciate the familiar and routine as much as we do what’s far away.

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This post was previously published on Age of Empathy.

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