When I was little, and growing up in the dairy farmlands of Harrisonburg, nobody in that hicksville had any idea what a Korean person was. All through elementary school, people always gave me the “are you Chinese or Japanese?” schtick, like a real-life King of the Hill. When I said no to both, most people were absolutely baffled, and had no idea of what possible alternatives there could be to Chinese or Japanese people.
A long while ago, I wrote about a how a kid in my neighborhood apparently thought I was Spanish, and said “hola” to me. Throughout the last few months, this kid has seen me a few times during my morning jogs, and has said “hola” to me on all those instances. Because I’m not Spanish, I do not respond ever.
Just the other night, while I was out on my evening jog, I ran by two little batarians, to which one of them said “hola” to me. Seeing as how I was now right next to the kid, I finally said, “I’m not Spanish. You don’t have to say ‘hola’ to me.“
Being in numbers often times creates a false sense of courage in kids, so the other kid laughed, and began motoring his mouth as I proceeded to leave them behind. In the midst of my pulling away I heard “So what are you? French? Italian? You speak Japanese?“
Wow. Aside from being Spanish, I’m mistaken for a French person, or an Italian person, before even hitting the continent of Asia? Man, these little black kids live in a sheltered world. I’m actually surprised at how dumb these kids are going to grow up to be.
