China: Kernel of Truth

As a pale, blue-eyed, blonde girl with a propensity for deficit spending, I realize that I am the stereotypical American.

In all of my travels, I’ve come to terms with babies crying when they see me (Costa Rica), men pulling on (and once cutting off a piece of) my hair in Guatemala, and the prevalence of stares that accompanies traveling in many parts of the world. I’ve tried my best (and sometimes failed) in all of these journeys to combat the other foreigner stereotypes by not being rude, loud, or drunk in public, but I have to admit, here I failed.

I’ve had more photos taken of me in the past few weeks than I have in all of my travels. On the train, a man videotaped me eating an apple, and another woman shoved her screaming infant into my arms so that she could take a photo on her phone, all of these completely harmless. However, the low point was my first week in Beijing. After having spent 3 weeks living on Nescafe and camel meat in Mongolia, I was relishing Beijing. And, in doing so, I went a couple of times to an ornate Starbucks nearby my hostel. As I was enjoying my walk through the Forbidden City with my frothy beverage, I had yet another young girl ask to take a photo with me to which I obliged. Right before the photo, however, the girl rotated the cup in my hand so that the Starbucks logo was apparent. It was difficult to feign a smile after that. Well, it made the “kernel of truth” idea from my race theory class in college ever so real.