It's not who you are...it's what you see.

A few weeks ago, Hasen told me a funny story about taking a bunch of Japanese girls on a week long river trip. (When is his story ever not funny, right? ) Anyway, he said on the final day of the trip, the girls wanted a picture with the guides. So one by one they sat on his lap for a souvenir photo shoot. Well, one of them turned to him & asked, "Which one are you?" He told her he was Hasen, and the girl giggled and said "So sorry. You all look the same. Can't tell you guys apart," with that cute Japanese accent.

Funny, right? Because most Anglos think all Asians look the same. Well, let me tell you something. It really has nothing to do with being Asian or Caucasian. It's not about what you are, but rather, what you see. Or more like what you're used to seeing. I know this from my own personal experience, having lived in an Asian dominant culture as well as an Anglo dominant culture.

I too remember the days when I thought all Anglos looked the same. That was back in elementary school when my parents brought me to the States from South Korea. I remember going home complaining to my mom that the teacher was making me sit next to a boy & he was going to be my buddy for the whole week. (This of course was when I thought all boys had cooties. You know, before they grew facial fuzz, had b.o. & the cracking voice to help me distinguish their gender, before I thought they were hot...go figure.) So poor Sally was dubbed a boy in my virgin eyes (this also was before I could distinguish the boys' names from the girls'), and I spent the first few months of school totally frustrated because everyone looked the same. But eventually, my eyes finally adapted to the Anglo features, and Sally the boy and I became fast friends.

Fast forward a few decades to Salt Lake City, Utah, late April of 2008. I've been here two and a half years, and I have to say, after having lived in cities like Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York, it was a bit of a culture shock to step off the airplane to see so many blond, blue-eyed white folks. (It's a myth that the Californian surfers are blonds. All the stereotypical California blonds live in Utah.) In fact, it is rare that I go to an event here and run into a fellow Asian or any other "people of color" for that matter. I'm like the token minority friend my friends have here; and seriously, I even forget that I'm Asian sometimes except when I see one staring back at me in the mirror while brushing my teeth. I basically live amongst the whites, and actually don't even think about race or any of that stuff except when my friend Jared says, "Oh look, our Chinese friend has arrived," in his endearing way.

So what's the point of this long-winded background story?

Last Monday, my parents came to visit from LA. My aunt was picking them up from the airport on her way down from Layton. I wasn't expecting them for another hour or so, and was doing the dishes when a car drove up my driveway. I looked out the window to see three short Chinese people getting out of the car. What are these Chinese doing in my driveway? I'm thinking as I turn off the water and walk over to my front door. There are no Asians in my neighborhood!

Well, what d'ya know...the Chinese walking up the stairs to my door were no Chinese at all! They were my parents who flew all the way from California to weed my yard because their daughter (who thought they were just some random Asians walking up to the wrong house) never learned to do yard work. But for reals... I bet you anything, if you went and lived in China for a year or two, you'd all come back thinking all your relatives looked the same.

(And don't judge. Grew up in LA, for Pete's sake. No one works in their yard. That's what gardeners are for...)