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Monday, October 01, 2007

There's this place called Fondo in Barcelona which illuminates the streets of the chinkys, very appropriately nicknamed due to their China origins.

Dining in a Chinese restaurant in Fondo (we missed the taste of oyster sauce, soya sauce and hot soup) brought us many curious stares from our fellow yellow-skinned creatures. "Fellow yellow-skinned" species as all of us are, I would not want be associated with them. Living in Europe taught me that most Caucasians would associate us with China, and many were surprised when they learnt that we were Chinese, Singaporean-Chinese to be exact. We had many dumbass presumptions as well, like the conversations below...

American: So, where are you from?
Singaporean: Singapore. You know where it is?
American: Ah, yeah...part of China, ain't it?
Singaporean: ...

and at the beach, where we were suntanning and looking at an amazing number of saggy boobs, freckled and not...

Chinese masseur: Where are you from ah?
Singaporean: Singapore. (decides to wait a while to see if she knows where it is.)
Chinese masseur: Haha. China not enough sun for you to tan, have to come here to tan ah? [directly paraphrased from Chinese]
Singaporean: ...

The China-Chinese have zero sense of social etiquette, so quoted from Gerald, and I totally agree with him. Every yellow-skinned person in the restaurant gave us curious stares when we walked in, and our table was constantly eyed upon. Not surprising indeed - we looked different, we dressed different, we spoke English all the time. There were 'em chinky chicks carrying LV/Gucci bags with absolutely no class at all; they might as well have been carrying fake Pradas for all we cared. Their mobiles rang as loud as a stereo speaker, they openly spat into their plates, they gnawed at bones and slurped their beer.

A quick payment was all we needed to make a hasty exit. No, we had nothing to do with them. So tell me, can there be better reasons to be ashamed of our Chinese heritage?

x`p
6:23 AM

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| The Girl |
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