It is funny, writing this blog. In that last post about my son’s run in with the kid with Dwarfism, I was so worried about coming across discriminatory, when really it was just factual.
I think about that kid. I don’t know how it feels to be different and extra short everywhere you go. I hope it helps that he has a few years as a kid where everyone is roughly his height. I can only somewhat emphasize.
I was stared at constantly and felt like the tallest freestanding structure in Hong Kong for over a year. And, I will never, ever, forget my first day of work in Kowloon.
The University of Waterloo had brilliantly helped me secure a job at a Tool and Die Mould company just outside of Hong Kong. I was just 19 and had no idea what the hell a Tool and Die Mould company did. I still don’t. But, the job came with a plane ticket to Hong Kong so I was emphatically in!
It’s another story for later, but I got myself from Waterloo to the front door of my new job! It was going to be FABULOUS.
The door to the office was like one of those old houses where, when you enter, you are immediately in the kitchen with no foyer to greet you.
I stepped inside, my head grazed the ceiling, and I was directly in all the bustle of the office on a bright Monday morning. People were everywhere, but it was not clear who my receptionist was going to be. Surely, they have all been anticipating my arrival.
I smiled at everyone and politely waited there for some time. My professional perma-grin was starting to give me a face ache and I was sure my look had gone from welcoming to crazy creepy.
Eventually, I called out “hello” a couple times, but nothing.
It’s not like I wasn’t making any eye contact. I was locking eyes all over the place.
They didn’t even try to hide the staring. It was totally rude.
There were at least thirty or so mouths hanging open in my direction.
I should have brought peanuts to feed them.
Still, no one would approach the frizzy-haired, 6ft., scary, white chick in the front hall. How I longed for one of those little desk bells to ring.
What now?? I’ve been calling out hello?? Maybe they don’t speak English.
I know! Do it in Cantonese. Show them they are your people now.
Bridge the gap.
“LAY-HOW-MA? LAY-HOW-MA?” I squeaked.
More heads popped up. They looked confused and started muttering amongst themselves.
I was sure they were saying ‘Look! It’s trying to speak to us’.
Clearly, that is not “hello” in Cantonese.
It likely means “I’m a dork, I’m a dork ”.
So stop it.
Finally, a perfectly groomed Chinese woman approached me.
I expected her to say something like “Haaro, chan I helps you?” But she through me off completely and said something perfectly English in a strong Australian accent.
I’m terrible with accents. I couldn’t make out a word she was saying.
On top of that, her head didn’t match her body. And my god, she’s wearing blue contact lenses. It was sensory overload and I just couldn’t compute. I stood there gaping at her.
Christy!!! She’s repeating things to you like you’re an idiot.
Pull it together!!!
I still had no idea what she had said to me, but knew it was time for me to give some kind of a response. I gave a head nod. She seemed relieved to have made alien contact and led me down a skinny hall towards a bright red door.
It was clearly the head honchos door and the sharp red color made me feel like I was about to go through the gate to Communist China.
This was clearly planned to intimidate.
Why? Is this guy short or something?
I had missed his name while gaping at Miss Chinese Australia.
Shit.
I walked quietly into his office.
Yup, he’s short. Oh hell. This guy is short by Chinese standard.
Thank god he is sitting down. Why didn’t I think to wear flats!!??
His eyes flashed up.
“Oh good, you’re here and you're white!” he exclaimed.
But then he paused, his head fully lifted, and the hopefulness dissolved from his face as he took a longer look at me.
“But, errr, you’re a woman”.
Go back to that ‘white’ part where you were happy to see me.
I’m great at being ‘white’. I can do ‘white’ all day long.
“Anyways, can’t change that now! I want you to take these brochures and go study them at your desk. I need you to sell this line of electronics into Europe - Mainland Europe. If you have any questions, find someone to ask.”
He fanned out about 20 booklets that looked weirder than a Japanese television ad.
Oh sure…
I see where your highly skilled business mind is going with this.
You’ll see, I’m no slouch, I follow!
Hire a random, white, but preferably vag-less, Canadian university student to come to industrial Kowloon and sell Chinese crap into France, Germany, Belgium or Italy.
They speak Canadian there.
His manner dismissed me so I quickly scooped up the brochures and scurried out of the office. What the hell just happened? I didn’t have time to digest it. The second I emerged through the door, thirty black haired heads, all with the exact same haircut, looked up, mouths still hanging open.
Great, I am the office zoo animal.
Blend in Christy, blend in.
Or, bring peanuts tomorrow.
I turned and saw that the Australian receptionist was standing there.
Ah, so nice of her to wait for me. She has to know how much I need her.
Could she be my first office friend?
Ever so thoughtful, she had cleared a spot for me while I was inside the big red door.
She flicked her finger towards a chair sitting in a haze of incense smoke. It was in front of a child-sized, three-legged desk between the photocopier and one of those mandatory Buddhist alters/shrine thingys you see everywhere in Hong Kong.
It was also the closest desk to the office door of the boss. Everyone else in the office was on the other side of the photocopier.
I’d been segregated.
Yeah, nix the office friend idea. Clearly, you are being punished for thinking her eyes aren’t naturally blue.
I thanked her warmly and tried to gracefully ease into the kindergarten desk for my audience.
There was no graceful. The chair was so low I thought I broke a hip landing on it. The top of my nylons snagged on a metal blur as my first thigh slid across to get in. The other knee stuck to some gum.
She turned on my computer and showed me how to launch “WORD STAR”. She informed me that all the other computers have the shiny new “WORD PERFECT”, but they will be sure to upgrade me soon.
She turned and left.
Wait. No invitation to lunch??
I will not be at the cool kid’s table anytime soon.
It had been a bad start to my first Kowloon day. I needed to self soothe. I flicked through the first crazed booklet.
It’s not so bad here. You’ll be just fine.
They’re going to love you once they get to know you. You’ll be just fine.
How nice. That the burning incense covers the smell of the decaying oranges and assorted fruit shoved up that shrine. I wonder how long they have been there. Wait, won't that attract cockroaches? You’ll be just fine.
And really, the smoke at my desk is no thicker than at a Canadian campfire.
You like campfires. You’ll be fine.
I’m sure the fourth leg to this desk is around here somewhere. Perhaps you can ask for it this afternoon.
So, what do you think the phone number is for Mainland Europe??
You’ll be just fine.
© Christy Pieroway and "Am I Blogging Nuts? Don't Answer That." cpieroway.blogspot.ca, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Christy Pieroway and "Am I Blogging Nuts? Don't Answer That." cpieroway.blogspot.ca with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Love it!!
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