I blame it on the throngs of Chinese tourists in Siem Reap, and the fact that many Cambodian students learn Chinese as another language outside of their regular schooling.
As I walk in, I notice their raised eyebrows, the whispers to their classmates and of course, their smiles. After Iβve written βWelcome to such-and-such-levelβ on the whiteboard, βMy name is Laniβ and introduce myself, I like to dig in, I like to get started.
That is if they donβt beat me to it. Sometimes, they immediately ask, βTeacher, where are you from?β
Tilting my head, I smile, βWhere do you think Iβm from?β
βCHINA!β
βNoooo.β
βTaiwan.β
βHong Kong.β
βJapan.β
βSingapore.β
βNo, good guess though.β
βThe Philippines!β
βKorea.β
I put my hands on my hips, as if to say, βReally?β
At this point they have started to slow down their guessing and have become confused.
As a joke someone likes to throw in, βVietnamβ because Cambodians hate the Vietnamese and look down upon them. Lots of history, wars, land disputes and blame, I guess.
βWhat other countries are there besides Asian ones?β
βAustralia?β
βCanada?β
βEngland?β
When someone finally is able to guess, βAmerica,β Iβm then able to say, βYes!β and then I try to get them to guess which state. They know California and New York and sometimes they know another state like Washington or Florida, but generally speaking, Iβve stumped them and theyβre staring at my face and they canβt let go that I look the way that I do.
In Thailand, after Iβve done my very poor imitation of hula dancing, theyβd be able to guess, Hawaii. But in Cambodia, not so much.
Depending on the level and my mood, I can explain that my mother is Thai (met with ooohhhhs and ahhhhs) and my father is Chinese. Then the look, the final look of triumph spreads across their faces, βI knew it!β
One time, a boy around 14 got excited, βOh, youβre Thai and Chinese, and like Cambodians, like us, I mean, yeah, youβre like Cambodian, like us.β
It was sweet.
When new Khmer teachers start the term, Iβm asked, βAre you Chinese? Are you from China? Are you China?β
And when a new expat teacher saw me hovering near the teachersβ room, she politely asked, βCan I help you?β
It never gets old. Itβs weird after all these years, I havenβt lost my patience, snapped or gotten irritated (unless Iβm outside of school or Iβm boiling hot or its extenuating circumstances).
In Thailand, whenever Iβve explained that Iβm from Hawaii, they would just accept that. Sheβs Hawaiian. But here, thatβs not good enough, we donβt believe you. What are you?
As Iβve said, Iβm used to it, after years of living abroad, but generally speaking, Iβm not discriminated against. At least I donβt feel that way among my students. If they transfer out of my class because they want a white teacher, I have no idea, Iβm none the wiser. A few times, when Iβm subbing for a white colleague, Iβll joke that the students are thinking they got a downgrade, but honestly, I donβt know what they are thinking. Perhaps one day Iβll ask.
Yes, thatβs what Iβll do.
Because when Iβm teaching I canβt help but wonder if they treat me differently than they do a βmore foreign looking expatβ. But to the schoolsβ credit, they hire other Asian Americans, like me. And Iβm grateful that the students are exposed not only to different accents (British, Australian, etc.), but different skin colors speaking English as their native language, as well.
There are times when Iβll sit among the students when weβre watching a presentation and Iβll just blend in, I know, because I remember one of my colleagues exclaiming, βI took a peek in your classroom and wondered, where is the teacher?!β
Another time, the cleaning lady mistakenly thought I was a Khmer teacher. And yet another time, first day of class, a student walks in and asks, βWhere is the teacher?β because I was sitting down next to the students waiting for the rest of the students to show up. Or when my Thai students wai me (put their hands together and slightly bow their heads out of respect), itβs a habit, even after knowing who I am, that reaction, this is what you do when you see your auntie, just canβt be shaken out.
Iβm so used to this though. My partner thinks it’s hilarious. He lived in China, he speaks Chinese (and has been known to answer back to Chinese people when they address me) and wants me to βChinese it upβ like when he insisted I buy Chinese dresses in Malaysia for the sake of a good laugh.
βNo.β
βBut why not?β
βBecause, because it looks like Iβm here to take their order.β
One day I must go to China. I used to want to go to Beijing to see where my father was born. These days, not so much because it is no longer Peking, China, but the belching pollution beast of a city that I fear breathing into. When the bf and I have thought about going, heβd teach me Chinese. He tells me that my pronunciation is spot-on, dead-on and uncanny, βYouβre a natural!β He laughs.
Iβm certainly not a natural at Thai even though Iβve heard it all my life. Thai is a struggle. So, I donβt know. Maybe Iβm more Chinese than I realize. One day, Iβll see. One day, Iβll blend in among the Chinese and see what happens.
Have you ever experienced a case of mistaken identity?
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