Annie Wang - The People’s Republic of Desire

But in the last twenty years, some Chinese scholars have claimed that China 's long history and cultural roots have impeded its modernization. For the modern Chinerse, history is just so much cultural baggage. So the new Chinese way to answer is to name the birthplace, not of your father's ancestors but of your father. The American answer goes one step further: you simply point to your own birthplace.

So this is what is going through minds of the returnees when you ask them where they come from: Should returnees follow the traditional Chinese, the modern Chinese, or the American model? Or should they go one step further, and say that they come from California or London? Well, in China, smart people leave things vague. It's called nandehutu.

Twenty-something Niuniu is one such returnee. If you've been to Beijing, you might have seen her. She's no different from all the other members of the trendy young xin xin renlei - the "new" new generation. Her hair is short, like a boy's, and spiked up with gel, sometimes dyed red, sometimes purple. Her hands are covered with all kinds of unusual white-gold rings, with little feet, apples, skeletons, snakes, and so on. Black nails, dark brown lipstick, baggy trousers, a colorful Swiss Army watch, yellow Nokia mobile phone, palm pilot, IBM notebook, JanSport backpack, and a Louis Vuitton purse, which always holds two condoms – not for herself, but in case one of her girlfriends needs one urgently.

Everybody in China has a dangan ,or personal file, which is kept by the government and details their political, family, educational, and employment background. I have one, too.

Let's take a look at my dangan. Top secret.

Height: 5'2"

Age: Twenty-something Weight: 110 pounds

Marital Status: Single and fully detached Birthplace: United States

Mother: Wei Mei, daughter of revolutionary opera performers. Born in Beijing, half Han and half Manchurian, granddaughter of a Manchu minister. Married three times. Moved to the United States during first marriage in mid-1970s. Currently the wife of the chief representative of an American oil company. Mother of Niuniu and a pair of Eurasian twins, Dong Dong and Bing Bing. A former Hooligan girl and shop clerk during the Cultural Revolution. Currently a social butterfly in Beijing 's expatriate circle, involved in some high-level diplomatic exchanges and movie projects. No higher education, speaks fluent English.

Father: Chen Siyuan, orphan from Taiwan. Arguably Chinese, adopted by an American missionary and converted to Christianity. Ph.D. in electronic engineering from MIT. Former employee of Hewlett-Packard. Currently CEO of the Chen Computer Company. Twice married, currently to his former secretary, Jean Fang, who is eight years older than Niuniu and soon to have a baby.

Twin Sisters: Dong Dong, age nine, and Bing Bing, age nine. Students of Beijing Lido International School.

Education: B.A. in journalism from the University of Missouri at Columbia. GPA 3.8. M.A. in journalism from the University of California at Berkeley.

Profession: Reporter for the World News Agency in Beijing.

Religion: Buddhism, light.

Smoker: Nonsmoker.

Drinker: Started at fourteen. Now occasional drinker.

Sexual History: Lost virginity at sixteen. Had sex with twenty-two partners. Currently sexually inactive.

Psychological Background: Suffered from depression while in the United States after being dumped by her boyfriend, the moderately successful eye doctor Len, a third-generation Chinese American who holds an M.D. from Johns Hopkins. Six sessions with a shrink, who taught her about the eye movement treatment, about which she remained highly skeptical. Eventually she left United States for a makeover in China as an alternative strategy.

Probably, you've guessed by now that Niuniu is me. From my dangan, you can see why people call me a cosmopolitan woman. I love the word "cosmopolitan" as much as the drink. "Cosmopolitan" is a trendy word to toss around in China at the moment: China is building cosmopolitan megacities and luring people with a cosmopolitan background.

In a country where background and history are so important, it's increasingly popular in China to fake one's identity, origin, and accent. For one hundred yuan, you can get a fake ID, a dangan ,or a diploma from any school in the world as easily as you can pick up a fake Rolex in Shenzhen nowadays.

Last week, I was in Shanghai, at a bar called CJW, owned by a friend's friend, where several native Shanghainese were complaining about "some peasants claiming to be native Shanghainese after being here less than three months."

Two weeks earlier, I was in a Hong Kong teahouse where the waitresses bad-mouthed a chic patron carrying a black Prada bag, who had just walked out the door.

"She can't be a local as she claims. Her Cantonese is far from perfect!"

"She must be a beigu - a northern auntie!"

"Northern aunties are so bold nowadays. They'll do anything, even steal other women's husbands. Shameless."

Upon hearing the exchange, I came to the conclusion that where you come from is a political question. In China during the Cultural Revolution, one's background could determine one's fate. Many of those who were unfortunate enough to be from educated families associated with the old guard were systematically purged by the state. The leaders of the Cultural Revolution wanted to start the country over from a blank slate, and that required the elimination of intellectuals and families with backgrounds that were deemed "undesirable."

Today, family background is no longer that important, but place of origin means status. The success of years of class struggle in China has made the Chinese particularly class-conscious. Faking one's birthplace is the quickest way to diminish the discrepancy between classes, between men and women, between city and countryside. It serves its purpose as conveniently as a fake Chanel bag.

Being a returnee, I am sometimes called a fake too. Local Chinese call me a jia yangguizi - fake foreign devil.

DANGAN: Personal files, containing details of their political, family, educational, and employment background. Everyone in China is required to have one.

BEIGU: Northern auntie, a derogatory expression for mainland girls.

NANDEHUTU: An ancient Chinese saying meaning, Leaving things ill-defined is better. The closest English equivalent is, Ignorance is bliss.

JIA YANGGUIZ: Fake foreign devil. A word used by ultra-patriots to refer to westernized Chinese.

XIN XIN RENLEI: The "new" new generation: Gen Xers and Gen Yers whose lifestyle includes bar culture, multiple sex partners, and the Internet. A far cry from the simpler and traditional lives of their earlier generations.

The Chinese media often complain that the Western media don't give a full picture of China. Some Chinese scholars have used the popular word yaomohua ,or "demonizing," as in: "The Western media try to demonize China because they fear the rise of a strong modern China."

Whether the Western media have painted an accurate picture of China or not, China has its own faults. It has moved forward too damned fast, beyond the average person's normal comprehension. Even Chinese returnees like me, who left the country for only seven years to earn one or two advanced degrees, cannot recognize Beijing after they get back.

Chinese TV is full of languid, pouting skinny models and small-time actors with Taiwanese accents, dressed up like Japanese cartoon characters and playing the fool. These opium-addict-looking models would be deemed totally unhealthy by the Old Revolutionary beauty standard. After all, China suffered two humiliating opium wars. And despite winning the civil war that drove the Nationalists off the Chinese mainland and onto bucolic Taiwan over fifty years ago, mainlanders now consider a Taiwanese accent a fashion asset. You can't think of China with logic.