Growing up an expat in Hong Kong, I learned about racism first-hand. Over the years, I had forgotten how Asians treat Asians. This Christmas I went to Bangkok and rediscovered it from the minute I stepped off the flight. There was this guy with Immigration Help emblazoned on his shirt so I approached him for some. He dismissed me with a wave of the hand, grunting Go, Go. I got the pen I needed from an Indian woman wearing a churidar amidst a sea of other Indians off the Bangalore flight. In the days that followed, I was stared at (no churidar?), talked to rudely by cabbies (although to be fair they're rude to everyone), and noticed that stony looks sometimes slowly gave way to a surprised friendliness. I was wondering what the hell was happening until I had my epiphany at a shoe store. There I was, in my zone, having left the mothership, aka Victoria's Secret, and now browsing for sandals when I heard this woman talking like she was on a loudspeaker, to her mother. "Is this the one you like? What colour do you want? This will not go with what you want to wear in the evening. Wait. Let me find out." And then she goes to the Thai shop assistant and roars: "Do you have Size 7? Size 7!" Before turning to her mother and yelling, "You have to ask them for everything, everything! They're just dumb! Really, really dumb!"
She was Indian.
Who can blame the Thais for hating us if this is what they meet? I was to hear more horror stories later. Is this what Americans feel like these days, tarred with the same Nutjob brush their President represents? Time to buy that travel Tee: Don't Shoot, Just Quietly Visiting.
She was Indian.
Who can blame the Thais for hating us if this is what they meet? I was to hear more horror stories later. Is this what Americans feel like these days, tarred with the same Nutjob brush their President represents? Time to buy that travel Tee: Don't Shoot, Just Quietly Visiting.
