chaiyun

@chaiyuns

If you’ve ever wondered why your Chinese friend insists on pouring tea sideways or why chopsticks have that weird notch, you’ve probably stumbled across @chaiyuns. Chaiyun—a Shanghai-born, NYC-based creator—turns everyday cultural quirks into bite-sized lessons that feel less like a lecture and more like chatting with that one friend who *actually* knows why things are the way they are. Her videos don’t scream for attention; they pull you in with quiet confidence, like the time she used a single chopstick to explain generational frugality in immigrant households. You know the kind—where saving plastic bags isn’t hoarding, it’s "just in case."

Chaiyun’s anthropology degree isn’t just a footnote—it’s the backbone of her content. Growing up shuttling between Shanghai and the Midwest, she noticed how tiny gestures, like refusing a gift three times before accepting it, carried unspoken weight. On TikTok, she unpacks these moments without jargon. One video breaks down why Asians often say "I’m fine" when they’re not, weaving in a personal story about her grandmother downplaying a broken hip. It’s not trauma porn; it’s tender, specific, and backed by genuine curiosity. You don’t just learn—you *feel* why these nuances matter.

What sets her apart isn’t just *what* she shares, but *how*. Her videos often film in her tiny NYC kitchen, steam fogging the镜头 as she stir-fries dumplings while explaining Lunar New Year taboos. You’ll spot her mom’s wok in the background or hear off-camera Mandarin corrections. There’s no over-produced aesthetic here—sometimes it’s just her trying (and failing) to fold dumpling wrappers "the Shanghai way" while laughing at her own soggy results. That rawness builds trust. Followers don’t just comment "This is so true!"—they share stories about their own aunts or grandfathers, turning the comments into a digital town hall.

With 1.2 million followers, her impact sneaks up on you. Teachers DM her clips to use in cultural studies classes; therapists cite her videos when discussing communication gaps with Asian clients. But the real magic is in the small stuff: a comment thread where someone writes, "Finally understood why my mom never said ‘I love you’—she showed it by scraping the burnt rice off the pot for me." Chaiyun rarely addresses big-picture politics. Instead, she zooms in on the human details—like how passing a knife handle-first isn’t just polite, it’s a silent "I trust you."

In a feed flooded with performative takes, Chaiyun’s work feels like a quiet revolution. She’s not here to "demystify Asia" or sell you on some flattened version of culture. She’s reminding us that understanding starts with noticing how someone holds their teacup—or why they’ll never, ever throw away a usable plastic bag. After watching her, you might catch yourself pausing mid-scroll, wondering what other tiny traditions are hiding in plain sight. And honestly? That’s the kind of change that sticks.