Jen in China: Thug Life

About a week and a half ago, I hired a cleaning lady to come over for a few hours. Well, to be more accurate, my school arranged it for me. I just let her in and paid her. Anyway, everything seemed fine until I heard an odd clicking sound. I’d heard this sound before but, I couldn’t put my finger on it. Eventually, I figured it out. The sound was the kitchen door’s lock. The cleaning lady had locked herself into the kitchen. She then proceeded to lock herself into the bathroom, the master bedroom, and the guest bedroom as she entered them. Since I was the only other person in the apartment, it must have been to keep me out. This woman found me so scary, she was locking herself into each room so I couldn’t sneak up on her.

Apparently, in Asia, I am intimidating. Personally, I find this idea laughable. Me, intimidating? Seriously? Anyone who has have ever met me knows what I’m talking about. To me, my look can be interpreted one of two ways: stay at home mom or liberal arts grad student. [Full Disclosure: I am neither a stay at home mom nor a liberal arts grad student. I am a kindergarten teacher but, ya know, a really intimidating one.] This is because, at home, I pretty much exclusively wear pajamas, regardless of the time of day. Outside of my home, I pretty much exclusively wear jeans and t-shirts. If I’m feeling fancy, I’ll add one of my many cardigans. Plus, due to China’s pollution, I have mostly stopped wearing contact lenses. So, add a pair of really thick, black plastic glasses to the mix. Yup, that’s me, the thug.

In Korea, people often did not want to sit next to me on the bus. It seems odd to me that I was the most thugged out person on the bus for the entire year that I rode a bus daily. But, it was the same each day. So, I guess it was true. My Kindle and I were just too gangster to handle.

After the cleaning lady incident, I requested that a handyman be sent over to repair a kitchen cabinet. I live in a big apartment complex. There are several hundred apartments in the complex. As a result, the complex has its own handymen. You just call and then pay them. Well, the complex decided that a visit to my apartment required three handymen. I guess no one felt safe coming alone. It ended up that one guy repaired the cabinet while the other two watched his back and checked up on my whereabouts in the apartment. At least they didn’t lock themselves in the kitchen like the cleaning lady.

Of course, not everyone is completely terrified of me. Many people seem ok with me being around. Today, when I walked out of the grocery store, I beeped. The employee who came over to check my bags was very nice and a little apologetic. He was not afraid or me or even suspicious of me. So, it’s not everyone.

I’m not exactly sure why some people here are afraid of me. It’s definitely connected to my being foreign. Something about this is off putting to them. It might be the differences in my physical appearance. It could be the difference in culture. Being foreign probably lends me a certain “wild card” quality that makes people nervous. It certainly doesn’t help that the US is known for having a lot of crime and loose gun laws. Maybe some people think I’m packing. Or, maybe it’s the cardigans and glasses. One thing is for sure though: I didn’t choose the thug life, the thug life chose me.