No Blanc Here

For entertainment, I sat on a stoop by the main road, drinking Prestige (the local beer), while watching people drive in and out of town with some volunteers and a Haitian worker of the organization we were volunteering at.  Every time we saw a fellow Blanc drive by, we would wave and raise our beers. 

The term Blanc in Kreyol means foreigner.  In French, the literal translation is White.  I think the French translation is more applicable however; as an Asian Woman, I’ve never heard the word “Blanc” being chased after me like it does my Caucasian counterparts in Haiti.  The Blancs tend to draw more attention.  I just get a lot of curiosity about my origination. 

It’s a daily debate that I get into – often more than once a day:

Haitian: "Where you from?"

Me: "The U.S."

Haitian: "You look Japanese or Chinese."

Me: "My family is from Thailand."

Haitian: "Yes, that's what I thought. So, what is your language?"

Me: "English."

Haitian: "No, I don't think so."

I have come to realize that in a country that is predominantly of one race (everyone else is a Blanc), the idea of America the Mixing Bowl is quite foreign.  I have had people accept that I’m Italian (“Thailand” apparently sounds like “Italian”), tell me that I must speak Spanish (something non-English), and flat out tell me that I’m lying before they can accept that I am from the US and English is my primary language.

As a result, on a daily basis, I have learned to change my response from claiming that I am from China to finally explaining that I was born in the US.  Luckily, two for two, the latter finally seems to stick and I am getting fewer looks of confusion now.

Regardless, when someone says Chinwa, I know they are talking about me.