Wednesday, September 28, 2011

I am NOT Mchina!!!

Yesterday on my way to the supermarket, two Tanzanian youngsters walking a few steps behind me tried get my attention by talking "Chinese" or what they think passes off or sounds Chinese. I paid them no heed, then one said "must be Japanese" and went on to say "Sista, sista, are you Japanesi?" For a while I considered telling them that I am Filipino but decided against it because it would surely lengthen the discussion. This is true even in Malawi where kids in the village would run after me saying "Mchina, Mchina!" To the knowing eye, I would be the last Filipino to be mistaken a Chinese. I am not fair-skinned (actually more brown than the typical Filipina) and though my eyes are quite small, I would not describe them as slanted. But in Africa, the face of Asia are the Chinese. For them since I don't look Indian but have Asian features then I must be Chinese. 

It is funny how friends asking for directions to my house would use the question "Where does the Mchina live?" and get correct directions each time. But it sometimes become annoying especially when you are not in the best of moods and the dala-dala (a public transport used here, usually a dilapidated van)  conductor make Kung-Fu moves to get your attention, complete with the invented Chinese words, thinking it is cute. It happened once and I  glared at the conductor and said in a stern voice: "I am not Chinese." In Malawi, one even asked me if I know Bruce Lee! On days when I have the time and energy to correct people about my origins, I explain that I am Filipino, and that I am from the Philippines. More often than not when they hear Philippines, the women mostly, their eyes would gleam and say "Oh, Philippine! You have nice movies!" of course they refer to the telenovelas exported to African households by ABS-CBN or GMA, i.e. "The Promise/Pangako Sa Iyo" or "Marimar." One even found it crazy that I have not watched these movies! A side note about Marimar, North's nanny suggested that I use banana leaves as plates for a luncheon I was hosting for friends because she saw it in Marimar! 


With the tension between China and the Philippines over the Spratlys Island I tell my workmates I would be greatly offended to be called Mchina. But my workmate said, no, let people believe you are Chinese for security purposes. Chinese means Kung-Fu with most of the locals here so they would think twice about bothering me because they think I know Kung-Fu. I said I still don't relish being tagged Mchina, and I am sure the Chinese would also frown on that. 

Monday, September 26, 2011

My Son, the Budding Artist




I discovered that something could rival chocolates for my son’s attention—pencil and paper. North, who is now 2 years and 7 months, has recently discovered the joys of drawing and this is evident on my walls, my off-white couch, and even our mirrors. Once, out of frustration, I hid all of the writing materials at home. But nothing can stop this boy… he discovered candle drippings could do the job and so now my bed’s side tables sport wax drawings of squares, circles, and triangles. This morning he wowed me with his first clear drawing of a car. Much more than drawing, North has a deep, abiding interest in vehicles. I was amazed that he now has a clear concept of a car and he can put this on paper, wheels, windows, and all. I wonder if the indentation on his car’s bumper is his interpretation of the dent our car suffered from my poor driving skills?


* Both drawings are by my son, Kahlil North, 2.7 years old. 
* The second one, my son insists, is a cat. But it does look like a tarsier!