***I started this blog a few months ago in Nicaragua, and am adding to it in Vietnam***
So… guys, I have something I've been meaning to confess to you all.
I… am…. not white.
There. I said it.
The secret's out.
… So what? It doesn't matter, right?
It doesn't 'matter' but it seems to have an effect.
For 7 of 11 months I will be able to fly under the radar when it comes to standing out from the local people.
In Nicaragua, we went to the small village of Bethel. Nineteen gringos jump hop in the truck. We drive down the bumpy dirt road as dodge the low hanging branches as we make our way into the town. Kids hear the sound of the truck and begin to emerge out of their homes as if the ice cream man were passing by. But instead of ice cream, it's a bunch of gringos who have been wearing the same clothes that they were wearing for the past few days. We didn't come with loads of gifts, or food, or clothes; just our presence.
The groups split off into the community.
Some play soccer.
Some visit homes and talk with others.
Sometimes you just sit and hang out with kids in front of a building.
Sometimes you just walk around and kids seem to follow you wherever you go.
I took moment and found myself standing alone. Just watching and observing interactions- it's interesting.
There are many times where I wonder what the locals think when a truck bed filled with gringos rolls through the town. Many times men whistle at the girls. We hear people shout out whatever English phrases they know, such as “How are you? I am fine!” or even“I love you North America!”
Being white in a country of non-white people makes you stick out.
Unless you're not white.
For a moment, as I stood in the field,
I felt like I wasn't special.
I don't mean that as in a sense of entitlement, as if I expect some sort of red carpet to roll out before me or something , but sometimes I can't help but feel a little left out when I'm the only one who doesn't seem to get any attention because I blend in with the locals. I knew that being non-white would add a little something extra to my 'Race' experience. At times it seems like I have an extra hurdle to get over, and other team mates have an automatic 'wow, I want to know the foreigner' factor.
[Thailand]
[Nicaragua]
Sometimes I feel an unspoken bond is immediately established.
[In Cambodia, I felt like I became one of the family.
I received lots of love and affection from our friend's family,
especially from his brothers.]
Other times I feel like people find me of less interest because I'm not so evidently foreign and just kind of blend in. It's not uncommon for me to get mistaken for Hispanic; once in a while customers at work would come up to me and start speaking in Spanish. Or, when I went to Ecuador last year, everyone else I traveled with got a tourist's customs form and I got one as if I was returning to my homeland. Everyone else also filled out an extra form when they got their passports stamped, I did not.
Sometimes I struggle with racial frustrasian.
Growing up, even in a racially diverse community, I didn't know where or how to fit in. My feelings fluctuated with the degree of wishing I was white; it took a long time to accept who I am as a first generation US-born Filipino.
[Guatemala]
I think I grew up with the sentiment of feeling different as a minority, and being in Central America, I feel… different as a minority. It's almost like I'm not used to the feeling of fitting in. It's like I so badly wanted to fit in and be white in the States, and for a moment here, I wanted to be white so I didn't fit in.
You just don't win when you always want what you don't have.
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I've learned by now to be quite content whatever my circumstances. I'm just as happy with little as with much, with much as with little. I've found the recipe for being happy whether full or hungry, hands full or hands empty. Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.
Philippians 4:13 (The Message)
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God makes me who I am, not my feelings in any given situation.
Growing up, I learned how to be content as a minority.
Here, I learn how to be content when I don't feel like a minority
… and when I do.
[Honduras]
I must say, in Honduras I got called 'Chino gringo' plenty of times. Sometimes it was even accompanied with kids pulling at their eyes and yelling “ching, chong, chang.” This may have been a time that I thought it would have been easier to simply be a gringo-gringo… And when I hear kids speaking Spanish, look at me, and then say to someone “I don't speak Chinese,” I look at them and reply, “me neither…” *facepalm* You'd think by now I'd have thick skin about these sort of comments but it's been so long since I've heard them, they get brushed off soon enough though.
**** Continuing in Vietnam ****
So… in Central America I've been able to blend in at times, or be 'chino-gringo.'
In Thailand and Cambodia, I would get asked if I was Thai or Khmer.
This month has been the most interesting of my race experience.
[This was a sign a customer made at the coffee shop in Vietnam
so people would stop ignoring me]
This month we have been working in a coffee shop as the English speakers. The set up is this: there are two rooms on the second floor of a building with chairs and couches around the rooms. Customers come in, order a drink, and then come upstairs and get to practice their english.
Many Vietnamese people are studying english in order to get better jobs in their companies. They learn english in schools and english centers, but all the customers come in and tell us that they read books and listen to tapes and teachers lectures, but they do not have the environment to practice any of the english that they learn. As a result, the people here are very shy to speak english and also have the expectation of being able to speak well if they listen and read enough- but they are scared to speak.
As with anything, they just need to practice.
And that's where we come in.
In each of the speaking rooms there is a designated native english speaker in each room, i.e. one of us. We just sit in the rooms and facilitate converstion. We don't come in with grammar lessons or anything. We get to ask the customers whatever we feel like asking them and remain available for questions as well.
Each day is different according to whoever shows up in the rooms.
One thing that hasn't changed is the amount of confused looks I get from customers who ask me where I'm from, and I tell them- America.
"You are American?"
"Yes."
… "but you look like Asian."
And I say…yes.
"I thought you were Vietnamese!"
"Nope."
And this sort of exchange happens every single day for me.
I have had days where people will look in my room, I wave to them and motion to them to come in, and they turn around and go to the other room.
One day this happened several times and nobody was in my room. I sucked up my pride and pouting and went into the other room— only to find that three customers chose to sit in silence in the other speaking room without a speaker, rather than come into my room.
I was more annoyed than hurt, if I'm being honest.
I had to earn my credibility as an english speaker- many times.
I have had days where people asked me:
"who is the speaker in the room today?"
"Me!"
"We want an American."
*frustrated*
And so, I just have to accept the little bit of prejudice opinions towards myself as a westerner here. I am told that an native english speaking asian from America with a degree in english would get paid significantly less than an white person who speaks something other than
english as their native language, from anywhere, with no degree.
So… I have had some not so fun moments here in Vietnam.
I've also had a bunch of compliments as well. It's quite flattering for one person to call you handsome in front of a room of people, and then for a lot of people to affirm the compliment. I'm just not used to that.
I guess what this all boils down to is…
identity.
I have wasted too much time in the past trying to figure out what my identity could be, should be, was told to be.
My identity is found in Christ.
Though all the mess of people wanting to know 'what' I am and all the mixed emotions I get when dealing with the comments that sometimes rattle my cage,
I can be grounded by knowing that
I find my value and worth in who God says I am- one of His children.
This month I have been able to form friendships at the coffee shop and speak life into people. I get to share my story of what God has done in my life. I get to tell them about all the things that I see them chase are things that I sought to be fulfilled in as well, and how I found that the only thing that pulled me out of a depression was learning that my identity and joy are found in Christ and his crucifixion.
I'm learning a lot about myself on the race and processing things that I never really thought about before and seeing things with new perspective. I've gained confidence through dealing with different situations in the english rooms; sharing my life and beliefs with strangers, and doing so without fear of judgement. I know what Christ has done for me and no one can take that away from me.
I'm really going to miss this month.
It feels like I'm leaving home.
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7 out of 52
Minori[Team]
And in the words of my brother Noe,
"It's not segregation, it's celebration."
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Learning to be happier with who I am, no matter where I am.
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Thanks for reading.
I'll be in Malaysia in 2 days!
[I can't believe we have passed the half way mark of the WR!]
Stay tuned.
God Bless.
