
On Flamingo Road a few avenues over and technically out of the footprint of Chinatown, sit some of my mom’s favorite Asian spots.
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You’re hungry, I know, so let’s point to some more full menus. While other Chinatowns are often located in centralized locations within their cities and architecturally diverse, the Vegas one is closer to the suburbs and situated within several plazas (what we call strip malls): stucco exteriors, large parking lots, businesses side by side. Fast forward to the mid-70s, and the opening of the California Hotel, which, after failing to attract many actual Californians, began to market itself to Hawaiians, a sizable population of whom both lives and visits Vegas in such vast numbers that the city is often called the “9th Island.” By the 90s, the nascent suburbanization of Las Vegas cemented the strip mall as a key architectural feature of retail stores and restaurants, and that’s how Chinatown started here. But they were forced from the infrastructure industries, who sought to protect white employment, and found work in traditionally feminized areas like cooking and laundry. In a state like Nevada, mining and the railroad became primary sites of employment for Chinese immigrants, numbering about 10 percent of Nevada’s population by the late 1800s. In the early days, Asian immigration to the American West was work-oriented. Some may have questions about what a Chinatown in Vegas even is, and, as was the case with me as a child, who it consists of. It’s the preview, the appetizer, the teaser. If you only have a little time to kill, Spring Mountain is where you need to start. It depends on who is making the product, who is receiving it, and, more importantly, where you’re looking. The put-on nature of the long section of Spring Mountain Road that Chinatown takes up, complete with dragon statues and paifang (traditional Chinese gateway arches) is “for” white tourists the same way any fried cylinder of meat and vegetables constitutes an egg roll. And there are fewer better places to spend a night out than in Vegas’s Chinatown, with style and no shortage of affordable, high-quality options.
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You learn things as you get older, one of them being how to peel back false layers of artifice. This likely contributed to my initial aversion to the idea of Chinatown, where orientalism (though I didn’t have the language for it then) seemed rampant. There was little in the way of stereotypical signifiers of Asianness when I was growing up, and because I also come from a black family, the parallax between the two often resulted in my feeling that to be authentically any identity, you came from ordinariness. My family’s various households consisted of Catholic art, tons of photos, and wooden decor.
