The Mistaken Identity

Look around you. There is nothing without some Chinese stuff. The Chinese are everywhere—they have reached every nook and cranny of the world. Chinese food, Chinese cuisine (yes, that's two ways of saying the same thing, but it's worth repeating), Chinese gadgets, Chinese blankets, commodities, goods—everything. It has reached places where Chinese people themselves have not set foot. China has dominated the market and the pockets of the world.

Here in Bangalore, and particularly where I am living, Chinese people are rare—despite their country having the world's largest population. There may be political reasons. China and India. Not exactly best friends. The point is, the people are not seen like their goods are seen. They are so rare that many people have asked me—many times—"Are you from China?" I wanted to answer by saying, "Only a Chinese can be everywhere." But instead, I blurted out quietly, unheard by them, "Do you think I am a dominator?"—because, as we all know, the Chinese have dominated the world. I have a Chinese-like face, but my ways and manners are somewhat different. Since I wear jeans and shirts, perhaps they think I am a little un-Bhutanese. Or perhaps they think Bhutan is a district of China. Geography is not everyone's strong suit.

Only yesterday, a group of my new friends asked me the same question. I laughed at them for not knowing about our countries, and the laughter even reached my Adam's apple—but it melted there with this: "Are you from Mars?" Sometimes, people behave as if they are completely alien. And I say that with love. Mostly.

The way they write our country's name makes me feel weird: "Butan"—very short indeed. Our Dolly-Jolly madam, Chitra Das Gupta, also calls me someone from "Butanic," a very unusual name, madam! Butanic sounds like a new brand of organic tea. Anyway, I always have a good time explaining my country, Bhutan—its history, cultures, traditions, attitudes, manners, thinking, and so on—and how it differs especially from China and others. Blah, blah. But happy blah.

For many strangers who have little or no knowledge of my country, I have become a real representative of my nation. Ah-ha! Representative of the country! No salary, but plenty of responsibility. I describe Bhutan as next to heaven and everything perfect. Sometimes, I sound too chauvinistic and patriotic—especially when they see some Bhutanese hanging around with wine in Bangalore. "This is your country?" they say. I have no choice but to counter the Indians: "They have been influenced by where they are living." Not a good excuse, I guess. This answer really makes them crazy. You can almost see the smoke coming out of their ears.

I usually conclude by saying that we are in the same boat—to balance the weight of nationalism, of course. Same boat, different oars, but at least nobody is rowing alone.