Being different
True life: Being different has never been unfamiliar to me.
“Hello! Konnichiwa!” yells a boy. I receive my usual greetings from the unofficial diplomats of Playstation-Land as I approach my front door. Every time I see the children in my neighbourhood, they stop and look and it was not until recently that they actually made verbal contact.
I recall the last was, “Do you live in that house?” No, I just have the keys because I am the Asian help to cook spring rolls and sew fake Gucci purses. However, I shouldn’t be too bothered, they are just children and children ARE curious by nature. They have not yet learned the adult skill to mask it.
Having said that, I still meet adults that could do with more lessons. On countless occasions I receive looks, no, stares from drivers and pedestrians and the older the generation, the less subtle it seems. There was even a male truck driver that honked on the horn and pointed at me! It feels bizarre but at least so far, it has not gotten racial, except for the odd “Wahay China!” comment from a drunken adolescence.
Since coming to live in Denmark from Thailand when I was six, being different has never been unfamiliar to me. On the contrary it is much the norm in my life. It is like an invisible blanket around me, but instead of keeping me warm it puts me out in the cold.
When I passed around Thai sweets in my class in 4th grade, you would think I gave them baboon asses by the look on their faces. From that day on, I made a mental note to pass around Smarties the next time I wanted to be popular. I don’t think there was a time where I could say my name without someone asking, “How do you spell that?”
I have heard the worst and the best of people’s comments about me being non-Danish and now non-Irish. A psychiatrist could earn enough to buy a tiny island in Fiji if they were to solve my nationality identity crisis.
I thought growing up in Denmark had prepared me for everything but since I came to Ireland, I’ve realised I am not there yet. Apparently in a small town like the one I live in, people look funnily at you if you are in ANY way different. Sad (yet comforting) but that is how it is.
Diversity does not go unnoticed. Wherever I walk, a lot of people look at me as if I am a live Oriental show and that comes from Asian people as well. Between the exchanges of glances, I look down my shirt to see if there is a ketchup stain somewhere or look backwards to see if there is a shoe sale that I have missed. Even though I never miss shoe sales. Luckily I spotted a gothic girl in town one day and by god, did I sigh with relief. Someone being different and it was not me!
Making friends has proven to be a challenge as well, as if people seem unsure of how to act around me. Some even keep their heads down when walking towards me. As if a normal “Hi” and a sincere look in the eye could make me grow an extra head that spits out prawn crackers and miniature lady boys.
Due to this, I am extra-sensitive to any different treatment, when I go into ‘paranoia mode’. Whenever I get strange looks or behaviour from other people I think to myself, “That’s because I am Asian”. Of course there are also people who are very welcoming and positively curious about my foreign background. They ask “So where are you from” with such intensity, as if that question was building up inside them like overcooked spaghetti in a saucepan.
Eventually people get used to me and have realised that I am more Western than my jet-black hair and brown eyes reveal. Yet there are still times when I feel like I am a runaway circus bear and perhaps I ought to charge a fiver so I can go see that psychiatrist.
By: Wannita Phanchana
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This article is part of the SpunOut.ie true life stories section – a space for young people to share their experiences of tough times and encourage others to seek help. This story is just one person's experience and it may be different for you. Remember that no matter what you are going through, there is help and support available. See the Find help section for more information: www.spunout.ie/help/
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