“No.”
“Sos Chino?” (Are you Chinese?)
“Soy un Estado Unidense.... Pero mis padres son de China.” My brain was already on autopilot. (I am from the US but my parents are from China)
“Ahhhhhhh.” The listener nods in acceptance.
With a sigh I jumped off the rusting bus, readjusted my dust-caked backpack and headed to the nearest dispensa (general store). Having spent the last 13 months in Paraguay, I must have had the above conversation at least a hundred times but often explaining America's diversity, seems only to confuse Paraguayans. I usually depart feeling like engrained preconceptions have forever won this battle. After all, all Americans are tall, blond and blue-eyed right? While I get the old stereotype of blond hair, blue-eyed beauties, I struggle to understand why Paraguayans continue to believe it. Today's mainstream television is filled with American movie, TV show and music super stars that are anything but blond haired and blue-eyed. And American media is widely available in Paraguay. Yet the fascination with “Rubias o Rubios”(blonds) is alive and well from Paraguay's capital to its rural farmlands (where I live). Every Paraguayan wants a blond. Even American girls who are clearly brunette or even red heads are called blond. Just ask any female volunteer. So where does that leave non-Caucasian volunteers?
Black Americans are Brazilians, Asian Americans must be from Korea or Japan (Korea and Japan seem to have a larger public presence here than China), and Middle Easterners are a shady mystery. As you may have gathered by now, I am a Peace Corps volunteer serving in Paraguay and being Asian makes me an anomaly. Being Asian American, makes me 1 of perhaps 10 in the entire country. Subsequently, I find myself with an interesting perspective on Asian American identity.
Identity: Asian and American
I have always thought of myself as Asian or Asian American but never really identified myself as just, American. Strangely enough though, it is this “American” description I find myself fighting for most in Paraguay because getting called a Chinito or Koreano just seems wrong, not even close, inaccurate. So much of me is American. You see, in the States when I'm labeled Chinese or Asian it almost automatically comes with the presumption that I'm American too. After all we are usually in America, speaking English but the clear assumption in Paraguay is that I must be from Asia, a foreign visitor. Living in a country where Asians are rare, (probably less than 1% of the country, a fact I am reminded of almost everyday courtesy of the blank, unending stares I get on the street, in buses and in stores) has forced me to examine my own identity in a way I never did before. In America, I felt most comfortable with other Asian Americans but thought nothing of our ethnicity as being exclusive or special. Yet in Paraguay, when I pass other Asians I find myself giving a slight head nod as if in a secret fight club. For their part, Asian pedestrians too often steal a second look or hold their glance just a little too long for a normal passerby. It's as if shared culture or heritage must be acknowledged.
Asians seem to find relief among other Asians in a sea of Latin Americans. I too feel it, whether its the familiar smell of Asian cooking, the soothing sound of the Chinese or Korean language, or even the time honored custom of taking shoes off before entering a household. All of it like a fleeting taste of home away from home, a comforting reminder of who I am.
At the same time, I have a sense of pride in the good ol' USA, one I had never noticed before. In America, we strive to do more, as kids we mow lawns, baby sit and sell lemonade. All to save for the future, whether its to buy that power ranger figure or those hot new kicks you just have to have. As professionals, we strive to work 40+ hours a week to earn that promotion, get that raise. As a people we believe in the capitalist dream, that opportunities are everywhere and if you believe in yourself, work hard, and never give up, you will succeed and be happy. Much of that creative, go-get-um attitude so essential to who we are as Americans is strangely absent here in Paraguay, especially in rural communities. Sure there are less opportunities, poorer people, less systems in place to help those in need but opportunity is still there. Sadly, meeting someone with the drive to realize a dream is frankly, a rarity. No mowing lawns, baby sitting, lemonade stands. No attempts to save what's earned or invest in the future. Just the hum drum of everyday farm work. Got a little extra money? Great! Beers all around. For many its a “tranquilo” relaxing life, one with just enough comfort: food, running water, electricity, a refrigerator and maybe a TV (if you are lucky), to be happy. And I get that. It's a culture with its perks, a deep value in family, community and sharing. Where your neighbors are family literally and figuratively and you can always stop by anywhere for a bite and some good gossip. I have seen many Paraguayans way happier than Americans and with way less. Still it is a culture I don't envy. The drastic difference between the American and Paraguayan psyche outlook on life highlights all the benefits of growing up in the USA, attitudes, opportunities, skills and values I always overlooked or took for granted.
My time in Paraguay has yet to end and I know when all of this is said and done and I return to an office job in the USA, this experience will have changed who I am on every level. But my identity as an Asian American will always remain and I know for sure, my 2 years in Paraguay will have helped define what that means to me.
This is RiSo, with a perspective.