A lot of people don't know that I was born in South Korea and came to the United States when I was just a baby. Okay, scratch that, maybe a lot of people do know that, or at least wouldn't be surprised if I told them. Growing up in a largely white community, I would get asked all the time, "So where are you from?" (Confused, I would answer "here!") and I think my Asianness (yes, I'm making that a word) was very apparent to others although nobody could tell that I'm Korean vs. say, Chinese or Vietnamese or Cambodian. "What's the difference?" they would ask. I could only shrug.
So it's kind of funny (or maybe strange is a better word) that the only times I have been back to Korea have been on layovers to China. Yes, the only bit of Korea I've seen is glimpses from an airplane and from the Incheon Airport, which isn't even in Seoul. It wasn't until this last time, when we took off for LAX, I finally glimpsed the city lights of Seoul. It was beautiful.
Now I fully expected to be mistook as someone who could speak Korean for parts of the trip - that is, the parts on the plane (we were flying Korean Airlines) or in the Incheon Airport. (In fact, I have to politely explain that I don't speak a word quite often just bumming around Los Angeles, which has a very large Korean population). I had accepted this and fully expected it throughout our short jaunt through Korea. What I did not expect is to also be mistaken as a Chinese person EVERYWHERE I went in China. And I mean everywhere. So either someone in my genetic history hooked up with a Chinese person somewhere in there or they can't tell the difference either.
The staff at the hotel or at restaurants would fully ignore some of my companions who happened to speak fluent Mandarian to pose questions to me. Each time we took a cab, the driver would inevitably look at me and I would sheepishly hand him our hotel's card with the name in Chinese characters. People would stop me on the street to ask for directions and rickshaw drivers would yell things at us (I have no idea what).
At the marketplace, I would try to use it to my advantage. "Too expensive!" I would say in Mandarin, one of three things I can actually say in Chinese, and the shop owner would raise her eyebrows, then let out a stream of Mandarin. Darn it! No Chinese friend prices for me.
By the end of the trip, however, I began to enjoy my anonymity. The students were gawked at wherever they went, which they found amusing at first and unnerving or annoying by the end. In turn, I could walk through the market or shopping mall or wherever by myself and be completely unnoticed and not bothered. I even began "translating" what people were saying based on the context and body language.
All kidding aside, the people in China could not have been more friendly. It was a lovely, vibrant, and dynamic place to visit. The people are all so proud of their country and their way of life. It's also sad - it's quite poor and there is a lot of pollution, the traffic is terrible, and many of their traditions and old ways of life are disappearing. Still, it was a fantastic trip and a great opportunity to experience a different culture - even if they thought I was from China!
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