Chopstick Conundrum

It's a phenomenon familiar to all foreigners in China: you sit down to eat at a Chinese restaurant, pick up your chopsticks, and all nearby (and sometimes farby) eyes turn to stare at you as you take your first bites. I don't really know why they are staring. Curiosity? Concern? Amusement? Boredom? It's something that is still a mystery to me. If you do manage to get food into your mouth, though, you'll be complimented on your ability to use chopsticks either by a smile and small nod of the head, or words of encouragement from those nearby.

Yesterday I was having lunch with a Chinese friend and as we began to eat, I commented on the fact everyone was staring at me. "Oh yes!" she said. "And if I go to America, everyone will stare at *me* to see if I can use a knife and fork." It wasn't a question, it was a matter-of-fact truth in her mind; if the Chinese stare at foreigners, foreigners will stare at the Chinese.

A few things I could have said:

1. No one would know if you are Chinese or Chinese America or Chinese Canadian or any other possible combination, so no one would automatically assume you can't use a knife and fork, and therefore wouldn't stare. (This concept of diversity, and our familiarity with it, would be difficult for her to imagine.)

2. Truthfully, most Americans probably don't care if you can use a fork or knife or not. (I can't speak for everyone, but we generally keep more to ourselves than the Chinese. In a collective culture, everyone cares what everyone else is doing. We simply just don't care as much. Or at all. Just as it is hard for me to understand why anyone cares, it would be hard for her to understand why we don't.)

But neither of these things seemed to not worth mentioning, for reasons I can't fully articulate. Weariness in correcting cultural misconceptions? Fatigue from constantly being watched? Concern my explanation wouldn't be understood? Probably a little of all three. So I said nothing, smiled, and kept eating.