Saturday, October 14, 2006

It's Good To Be King

It's remarkable how racism can work in your favor sometimes. Granted, there are quite a few people here that see my presence as an invasion, but most seem to see me as some sort of Rock Star.

Today, while waiting for the bus, a couple walked past me. The girl noticed me early on, and did not even try to hide the fact that she was staring at me. As the two of them got closer, she nudged her boyfriend and pointed me out. Saying something to him with a grin.

He looked at me, and frowned. It was one of those "oh, is that what you want?" kind of moments. Like a wife who notices her husband is a little too interested in the Victora Secret Catalogue. The couple in question seemed to argue about it for the rest of the block, him taking on the "how can you ambarrass me like this?" tone, with her body language suggesting the "come on, baby, you know I love you" defense.

I don't think that it's as much a race issue, as much as it is a coincidental race issue. The most common beauty product I've seen advertised here is skin cream that whitens a woman's skin. For some reason or another, a lighter skin color is more attractive to the Chinese. Consequently, us white folk are inherently gorgeous, and thus reap all of the usual social benefits of being such. (The inverse: Black people are none too popular here.)

Even in a reletively well populated city like Zhongshan, there are still only a handfull of foreigners walking around. So few that I still have people stopping me and asking to pose for pictures, or children exploding into tears at the sight of me.

Every once and a while, I've had a local stand next to me at a bus stop and carry on a conversation the whole time we wait. I make it clear very early on that I don't know what they're saying. And on they talk. They could be giving me the secret codes to China's defense satalites for all I know. The funny part is, when my bus arrives and I get on, they leave. They weren't waiting for the bus. They just wanted to talk to me, whether I understood them or not.

On top of that, I've found that the stereotype concerning anatomical differences between white men and asian men has made it across the ocean. Which is why, pretty much everywhere I go, women fawn all over me and men treat me like the guy who's trying to steal their daughter.

In short; I Rule.

Found In Translation

I've got Pink-eye. Not a big deal. It's the 4th time in as many years. And, as usual, it's due to my neglegence in proper Contact Lens care. You'd think I'd learn by now.

As I went to class the other day, fully aware that my left eye is very noticably dark red, I explained the situation to my TA who in turn relayed it to my students in Mandarin.

As an added bonus, I wrote "Pink-Eye" on the board. Usefull English, I would imagine. My TA seemed to get a little timid when I did that. She said something to the class, pointing at the "Pink-Eye" on the board, to which they all laughed.

As I learned that day, the Mandarin word for "Asshole" translates litteraly to "Pink Eye." That's probably my new nickname now.