Sunday, September 17, 2006 by Mariskova
For one thing, my nose is pug and my eyes aren't almond shaped, nor cashew-nut shaped. They never resemble the shapes of any peanuts at all. Then, my eyebrows aren't thick and my cheek bones are barely shown. Also, I never (trust me!) move or swing my head when I talk. I don't sing (God forbid!) and it's been a hundred years since the last time I danced. Next, my hair is always cut short and I absolutely never-ever wear the you-can-see-my-belly-kinda clothes. Except when I wear Bikini, which is even not in this life. The thought of it is enough to give me butterflies. So, in short, I cannot -in any way- look like an Indian.
But it seems that the native Indians don't think so. Besides the white people, Indians can also be seen often in Tokyo. It is like everyday I bump into them. Shinjuku, Akihabara, Shibuya, Roppongi, etc etc etc. Whenever we bump into each other, the women will stare at me from my head to toe. They probably think I'm so ultra modern that I wear jeans and T-shirt instead of their traditional Sari. The men, on the other hand, always give me warm smiles, which -forgive me- without realizing it I always reply the smiles with blank faces read 'do I know you?'.
For some time, I regarded their attention (and a bit of curiosity) simply as foreigner-to-foreigner greetings. You know, when you are a legal alien in a country, you always tend to observe whether there are other aliens around -legal or illegal. BUT, one day, I suddenly had an enlightenment. I was in Akihabara, the wellknown electronic city, pretending to be interested in Papap's speech about the differences between one electronic device and the others (DO NOT ask me to name them for I could hardly understand what electronic devices stand for). Suddenly, a few Indian men approached me and spoke to me in -logically- their language. When I -again- gave them my blankly stupid look, they said, "Indian? No?"
So I knew. All this time these people think I am one of them because of my skin. I guess it is time to reconsider the try-to-be-exotic program.
If I had known I looked quite like an Indian, I would have joined Miss World and became a movie-star-plus-dancer-plus-singer. Instead, I think, I'm more fit as a Sinbad genie in the picture above.
.... and Papap thinks this whole thing is quite amusing.