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, 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. They 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 Chinese can be everywhere." But instead, I blurted out quietly, unheard by them, "Do you think I am a dominator?"—because 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.

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.

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! 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.

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! I describe Bhutan as next to heaven and everything perfect. Sometimes, I sound too chauvinistic and patriotic 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. And this answer really makes them crazy.  I usually conclude by saying that we are in the same boat—to balance the weight of nationalism, of course.

  (of course)).