there are moments of grace

thanks to the IKEA delivery guy who gingerly traced my apartment number on the wall so i could confirm the order, for his miming of furniture functions to determine placement in the apartment (his pantomime for bed was perfect) and for his helpful pointing out of the functional IKEA illustrations on the boxes. (bless the swedes.) this delivery guy must've been a special educator in his past life.

no thanks to his workmate who confirmed that repeating and nearly yelling the exact same statement three times in a row is not helpful. 

this asian face was made for walkin'

confession: i like being weird.

i love being unexpected, unconventional and quirky. in my mid-20s, i realized that my biggest fear in life was being considered boring and forgettable. (that, and biking. and people choking in my presence.) it's an ENFP thing to crave being genuinely un-ordinary in life... i just want to break the expectations people have of me. in a good way.

which is probably what drove me abroad. i needed more than the suburban future to which so many of my peers were looking forward. (no offense if that's what you have. it's just not for me. good for you, not for me.)

anyway, i've mostly been able to surprise people (positively) in my life overseas. in spain, when i could negotiate the check in spanish. in qatar, where i surprised someone with my midwestern american accent.

i could surprise people. until now.

i am a chinese-american in china. i am approached all the *&^%$%^& time in mandarin. if it's contextually appropriate and i don't really need to engage with them, i try to be polite and nod and smile. i sidle away in the drugstore, hoping they do not follow me and try to engage me in further conversation. sometimes it works. but often times, i have to insist politely, "ying wen," which means "english." if they still don't get it because of my horrible grasp of the five tones in mandarin (EFF you, tonal languages!), i have to say, "wo shi mei guo ren." (i'm american.) sometimes i try to retain street cred by insisting "but i know cantonese..." i'm still one of you!

but i see the surprise. it's a disappointed surprise, the realization that comes over them when i'm not complying with their directions, or responding in the way i should... it's almost pity, and i feel their eyes communicating something like, "oh, she has a disability." or, "she's stupid."

it's not the positive surprise i'm used to. this privilege (fully expecting me to know the language) i have here is a new one for me.

but this privilege also enables me to get taxis because drivers assume i know where i'm going and can communicate location. win. and then i get in and can't communicate to their expectations. and it starts all over again.

you win some, you lose some.