OPEN CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS ✨
CHI Archives is a living archive dedicated to sharing and preserving stories of the Chinese diaspora across the Americas and beyond.
We’re inviting you to submit photos, videos, and personal memories that hold cultural history
migration, family traditions, community life, joy, and loss.
EN/FR/ES/PT/中文 accepted
Link in bio to submit
Thank you for building this archive with us❤️
🇨🇺🇨🇳 “My story reflects a little-known chapter of the Chinese diaspora in Cuba. Before the Castro era, Havana’s Chinatown became one of the most important outside of Asia, with associations, businesses, and a very active cultural life. Places such as Zanja Street, along with family businesses like my grandfather’s, were part of a vibrant community fabric that was largely lost following the economic changes after 1959.
Chiong Wayow was my paternal grandfather. He was born in Canton and, at just 12 years old, fled communism and emigrated to Cuba with an uncle. At that time, the island was prosperous and welcomed those seeking a better life. Havana’s Chinatown was one of the largest and most vibrant in the Caribbean and Latin America.
My grandfather learned Spanish perfectly and, after achieving some stability, traveled to Hong Kong to find a wife. He returned with my grandmother, Wong Ming Ye, who was pregnant with their first daughter, Amelia. Together they built a life, started their own business, and acquired a grocery store in the heart of Havana, at 417 Soledad Street, which they named “La Nacional.”
They had three children: Amelia, Rafael, and Guillermo (my father). They lived modestly but steadily until 1959, when Fidel Castro’s government nationalized private businesses, and my family lost everything except one of their homes.
My grandmother often said she knew war. She suffered deeply during World War II, especially due to the Japanese invasion, and remembered the terror and hunger it brought. Yet she said she had never experienced hunger like what she endured in Cuba in the early 1990s.
Both of my grandparents passed away without ever returning to their homeland. Our uncle, Bartolo Wong Ching, was the last family member to visit Hong Kong, in 2000. I remember him saying, with amazement, that he could not recognize the city since he had left it in 1954. He was a beloved chef in Havana and passed away on August 11, 2018...”
1. Varadero, Cuba, circa 1954
2. my grandfather in his grocery store, La Nacional, 50s / Chiong’s family
3. my grandfather Cuba’s citizenship
4 & 5 Chiong’s Family in 1981 & 1958
6. My parents & me
Ingrid Chiong
🇨🇺🇨🇳 “Fermin Huey Ley is the Cuban Chinese Frank Sinatra, his parents came from China in 1902 the year Cuba gained independence from Spain in the 60s and 70s Fermin used to dance the rumba to the conga along the malecón. now at 67 he no longer dances but he still sings for us at Lung Kong (a charitable clan association run by Alejandro Chiu) where he goes for lunch every day.”
Footage courtesy of the Chinese Restaurants documentary series - chineserestaurants.tv
by Cheuk Kwan
🇵🇪🇨🇳🇺🇸 “My grandfather immigrated from China to Lima in the 1950s, leaving behind his wife and kids in China. He was on the search for a better life, and saw opportunity in Peru. He gradually brought them over to Peru and they resided there until the 1970s. While in Peru, my entrepreneurial grandfather tried his hand at a few different types of business including a shoe store and a restaurant. He learned the craft of cooking pollo a la brasa during his time in Lima. My grandfather came to NYC with his business partner/friend in 1973 in pursuit of the American dream and opened the first Chifa restaurant in our family which focused on Pollo a la brasa. When his kids were able to immigrate to the US, they also followed in my grandfather’s footsteps and opened their own pollo a la brasa restaurants. All of these restaurants were/are primarily takeout/counter-service and “old-school”. When we were looking to open Johnny’s, we wanted to honor our heritage and family legacy but also do a few things that were a departure from what our family had previously done
1) make Chifa “cool” and more modern, and incorporate ideas, foods, etc from our upbringing in the US and
2) offer a sit-down dining experience with a full bar with fun cocktails (none of our other restaurants served alcohol.
Johnny’s is a celebration of our heritage, serving Chinese-Peruvian-American food in one of the most amazing cities in the world.”
Stephanie @johnnysbk
Johnnys BK
642 Lorimer St, Brooklyn NY 11211
1. Grandma & grandpa in their first restaurants in the US
2. Some of my aunts & uncles in our family’s restaurant in Peru
3. Grandma & grandpa in their first restaurants in the US
4. Photo from Johnnys BK ig
5. 3rd generation owners of Johnnys BK
6. Photo from Johnnys BK ig
🇵🇷🇨🇳 “My parents moved from Guangdong, China to Puerto Rico in the 1990s with my brother in search of work and opportunity. They first worked at our relatives’ restaurant in Humacao and Caguas before opening their own in Ponce in 2000. A year later, they had me 💁🏻♀️
I basically grew up in that restaurant - doing homework in the dining area, talking to customers, taking orders, peeling plátanos, and celebrating all my birthdays there after closing time. At a very young age, I navigated both cultures and languages: Cantonese at home and Spanish everywhere else. Our menu was a blend of Chinese and Puerto Rican flavors like mofongo con pepper steak, arroz chino con carne frita, tostones al ajillo (my all-time favorite) 😋
Growing up in Puerto Rico shaped me in the best way. I learned Spanish, built lifelong friendships, and experienced the warmth of Boricua culture. But being part of a very small Asian community also meant standing out. As a child, I was often teased for my small eyes. Kids would pull their eyes, call me “chinita,” and asked if I ate dogs and cats. At the time, it was painful. I didn’t understand why looking different made me a target. Back then, I just wanted to blend in. I didn’t want to stand out.
Now I realize that being Chinese is such a beautiful thing.
At 13, my mom and I moved to the States for better education and so I could learn English, a transition that broke me in ways I didn’t expect. I didn’t want to leave my home. Eventually, my whole family sold the business and relocated. But Puerto Rico will always be home - it’s where I learned resilience, language, what it means to live between cultures, and how identities can blend in unexpected and beautiful ways 🤍
Puerto Rico raised me. China rooted me. Chicago shaped me.
Now, I’m proud of every part of who I am 🇵🇷🇨🇳
@amylinlinn Amy Lin
🇩🇴🇭🇰 “I’m sharing photographs from my childhood, images that shaped my life and my destiny. They are part of my most cherished treasures.
My family arrived in 1978, My parents married young. As newlyweds, they set out with my mother’s family for the Dominican Republic - toward that island someone had once told my paternal grandfather about when he was living in Nauru, a place where there were opportunities to build a new life. They sold everything they had in Hong Kong and crossed the world to begin again. In Los Mina, a working-class neighborhood in Santo Domingo, they opened the Hotel Fortuna, a name that carried both hope and promise - planting our family’s story firmly into Caribbean soil.”
@ching_ling_ho / Ho Shum Family
1. Hotel Fortuna, Los Mina
2. Estela & Emilio (mom and dad)
3. Estela & Emilio (mom and dad)
4. Ancient Chinese serie in VHS
🇻🇪🇭🇰 “Mi padre (Fung Ming Wong Lam) llegó a Venezuela en 1967 aquí en Caracas los recibió mi abuelo que ya se había venido a Venezuela antes. Mi padre es de un pueblo llamado “Sun Wui” vivió en Hong Kong y luego se vino a Caracas siento yo a una edad genial para vivir esa época del país que nos la cuentan siempre con un brillo especial en los ojos. Mi papá trabajó en variados estilo de negocios, desde carnicero en un frigorífico a vendedor de ropa hasta modelo para publicidad impresa y comerciales de TV, se ganó la lotería, gozó y viajo por el mundo hasta que a finales de los 70s y principios de los 80s mi Mamá trabajaba para la empresa de juguetes “Mattel” y mi papá en una empresa china de plástico creada aquí en Venezuela llamada “Luckyplast” y se conocieron gracias a alguna reunión que hubo entre las dos empresas, se enamoraron y decidieron formar una familia que recibió el 15 de julio de 1988 su primer integrante (yo) dos años después un 12 de junio nace Meylin, mi hermana menor.
Desde que tengo uso de razón las dos partes, las dos familias y las dos culturas siempre Jen estado presente en mi vida yo me siento tan chino como venezolano y durante toda mi vida tengo costumbres que solo tenemos como decimos coloquialmente “chinos mestizos” o los nacidos aquí pero de padres ambos chinos. Las celebraciones importantes nos juntábamos en casa de “apó” abuela hay veía a la mayorías de tíos, tías , primos, primas y siempre comíamos un banquete que preparaba mi abuela buenísimo, abuela siempre fue muy especial conmigo a pesar de lo que la gente habla sin saber o generaliza sobre los chinos que “no les gusta mezclarse” ella nunca me hizo sentir nada extraño de hecho todos sus nietos son Venezolanos.”
@burnerwong Michael Wong
🇵🇦🇨🇳 “These photos are from my dad’s adolescence in Panama City. He moved to Panama at eight years old with only his grandmother, following relatives who had already settled there and encouraged the rest of the family in China to immigrate. Growing up as a Chinese immigrant in a Latin American country wasn’t easy, and he often felt like an outsider while facing many challenges. Despite the struggles and pain, he held on to positivity. He worked incredibly hard and kept an optimistic attitude, something I’ve noticed that is very prevalent among many Chinese immigrants in Panama.
As far as I know, my family has had roots in Panama since the 1920s. My great grand-uncle immigrated there first and later encouraged other relatives in China to join him. They ended up enjoying life in Panama and finding better opportunities, and some of my ancestors eventually married locals. Because of that, some of my cousins are mixed while others are fully Chinese but culturally Panamanian. I’m fully Chinese myself, though I feel a stronger cultural connection to Panama. At the same time, many Chinese families in Panama still marry within the community as a way to preserve traditions and cultural identity.” 1. My grandma holding my (mixed Chinese-Panamanian) cousin 2. My dad posing in front of his electronics supply business in Panama City 3. My dad’s graduation photo @amantepaisana / Angie, Jose Chan
🇻🇪🇭🇰 ”My great grandparents moved to Venezuela from Hong Kong in the early 1940s during WW2 and gradually started moving my grandparents and parents to Venezuela for a better opportunity. The family thrive and new opportunities and family values created with Latin cultures. Growing up holding on to our Chinese traditions such as celebrating lunar new year, mid-autumn festival eating mooncakes while also celebrating noche buena eating and making hallacas as well as zongzi.
Food is definitely big part of our traditions as my great grandfather moved to Venezuela and started a Chinese BBQ business to provide for the family. Our household always celebrating with abundance of food whether Chinese or Latino, providing for our community and that passion now carry over to me in my business where I highlight both heritage of being Chino Venezolano. Of course while making food, music plays a big role so listening to salsa, merengue or classic cantonese pop always in the background while cooking.”
@chef_diegong Ng Family
CHI Archives was founded by Gia Fu and Parker Mah, two artists and cultural workers whose practices move through sound, migration, and diaspora.
Gia’s work through Canton Mambo traces the bridges between Chinese and Afro-Latin worlds through salsa, dance, and storytelling.
Parker’s multimedia and community-rooted practice explores hybrid identity, intergenerational memory, and the living histories of Chinatown.
CHI Archives was born from these crossings, from the belief that behind every rhythm, every archive, every cultural exchange, there are stories that deserve to be held, shared, and preserved.
CHI Archives es una extensión de - y nació a partir de - Canton Mambo, un proyecto musical creado para tender puentes entre las culturas china y latina a través del sonido, el ritmo y el baile.
A medida que Canton Mambo crecía, comenzamos a darnos cuenta de que detrás de la música y el intercambio cultural existían muchas historias “Chino-Latinos” aún no contadas.
Estas historias de migración, comunidad, legados coloniales, (des)conexión intergeneracional, alegría y pérdida no están separadas de la música: son parte de aquello que la ha moldeado.
CHI Archives es un archivo vivo de historias de la diáspora china - pasadas y presentes, personales y colectivas.
Creemos que las identidades chinas son plurales, formadas por el movimiento entre continentes y las memorias que llevamos con nosotrxs.
Este es un espacio para sostener la complejidad, la ternura y todo lo que existe en medio.
Este es nuestro comienzo. 🌱
Y lo estamos construyendo juntxs.
CHI Archives is an extension of - and was born from - Canton Mambo, a music project created to bridge Chinese and Latin cultures through sound, rhythm, and dance.
As Canton Mambo grew, we began to realize that behind the music and cultural exchange were so many untold “Chino-Latino” stories.
These stories of migration, community, colonial legacies, intergenerational (dis)connection, joy, and loss are not separate from the music, they are part of what shaped it.
CHI Archives is a living archive of Chinese diasporic stories, past and present, personal and collective.
We believe Chinese identities are plural, shaped by movement across continents and the memories we carry.
This is a space to hold complexity, tenderness, and everything in between.
This is our beginning. 🌱
And we’re building it together.
