Mistaken

Maybe it’s my fair skin, or maybe my big dark eyes have a hint of a slant. Maybe it’s the way I dress, or maybe these are the new generic names for Asians. Whatever it is, I often get mistaken as somebody from the Philippines' neighboring countries....

While about to disembark from the Supercat in Cebu, a voice from the middle of what must have been a hundred of Japanese tourists asked: " Excuse me, excuse me, are you Japanese?" It took me seconds to realize he was asking me. " No, I’m not." Unbelievably, a voice from the Chinese group behind the Japanese flock rose on a rebound. "Are you Chinese?" I turned to several hopeful (or helpful, they must have thought I got lost from my pack) faces. Their expressions told me they completely forgot they were in the Philippines and that there might be a chance that I’m a Filipina traveling alone....

Sitting on a bench inside Andel mall in Prague next to two elderly Czech men, one of them suddenly said, "Japanese?" Oh Lord, here we go again. No, I said while rearranging my grocery in a plastic bag. "Chinese?," the other one asked. Wait a minute, I probably look like Lucy Liu ha-ha! Wait, is Lucy Liu Chinese? No, I said to them, snapping out of my Charlie’s Angels dreaming. I’m a Filipina.

"Ah, Filipiny!," they chorused. "Nice!," they chorused again. "Do you live here?," one of them asked with his index finger pointing to the floor. Yes, I do, my husband is Czech. "Nice!" That word in a chorus again. I wonder what they meant by that. Did they like my new Zara white shirt?

Going around a Vietnamese store in Tisnov in the South of Czech Rep.;

Vietnamese man to me: "Ayshukmjshgltughglhyhsothayg.dhtehsg!"
Me: "Pardon? Oh no, sorry, I don’t understand. I’m not Vietnamese."
Vietnamese man: " Thglsthgphggpowugytpsabter. Hflgpitgaoght!"

Ladies and Gentlemen reading my blog, forgive my very poor knowledge of Vietnamese language. But I think you got the point.

In Andel again while sitting on a bench and happily examining my new purchase, a business-looking man came to sit on the opposite side. "You must speak English,"he said. Thank you, Lord, no Japanese or Chinese line this time. Yes, I do, I answered. "Are you Chinese?" Not again!

And since we are on this topic, last summer A and I were in the woods near his parents' cottage (weekend house) to pick mushrooms when out of nowhere this huge golden retriever came charging towards me. He immediately started pumping his hotdog on my leg, his paws pinning my arms close to my body immobilizing me almost completely . Mind you, he was drooling. A tried to shoo him away to no avail. He only let me go after his master’s voice came calling for him from the other side of the woods.

A year later, just a month ago, A and I went back to the woods. We wanted to pick wild strawberries this time. On our way to the clearing I saw this golden retriever several meters away walking with a family. Oh no, I hope it’s not the same dog, I said to A. But it was. He came charging towards me again the moment he saw me. The pumping of the hotdog, A trying to shoo him, everything was a repeat of what happened a year go.

This time I wasn't just mistaken for a Japanese or a Chinese or a Vietnamese, I was mistaken for a dog.