For the seventh day in a row, someone asked me in Spanish for directions while out and about today.
Each time, I have been surprised and quite flattered. I still don’t really know what I’m doing, but have gotten used to the decentralized, convoluted system of buses and vans that connect Lima. Every time that I am approached, the confused traveler seems hopeful. When I open my mouth though, it immediately becomes clear that I am not a local. The last couple days though, I have been able to provide a helpful answer, though my accent outs me as an extranjero.
I have thought a lot about why I am tickled by these very brief interactions. Yesterday, I was chatting with Mariela while she made me lunch. We both laughed as I explained the look on people’s faces when they realize they will probably have to ask someone else for further directions. As an aside though, Mariela reminded me that I am an the right height, and have the right skin tone to pass as a Peruvian. Everyone here is a little bit of this, a little bit of that, Mariela explained. So are you, she said with a laugh as she finished dolloping rice onto my plate.
Mariela made a good point. Peruvians are not very tall. If anything, at 5’7”, I feel like I am on the taller side of average. I have always had a pretty tan complexion, especially compared to my brother. It is a fun feeling being able to pass for a local in a place I’m actually not too familiar with.
Oddly enough, the summers I have spent in China, despite having Chinese blood, most people I small talked with, such as taxi drivers and waiters, usually immediately asked if I was of mixed background, or if I was Filipino, which is sort of like asking if I am mixed. In China, despite having some Chinese blood, my look was recognizably mixed, and recognizably foreign. Based on appearance, it was assumed (correctly) that I was a foreigner in the People’s Republic.
Perhaps ethnicity and race really aren’t the driving factors in these situations. At Harvard, at least a couple times a week, while walking to class, tourists would ask me for directions even when there were plenty of other students walking by. How and why am I often singled out for directions? I am tempted to say that my young face, and nonimposing presence in general are reasonably approachable. Maybe people are asking me for directions in Lima for similar reasons.
The thing I have appreciated from these interactions at bus stops and street corners is the optimistic assumption that I am a local, rather than a foreigner. Everyone has a story about why they are in a certain place. You just never know. In each of of these interactions, both the person asking for directions and I share a small laugh that comes from a positive misunderstanding. I don’t feel insulted that someone thought I was a local. It’s a good feeling to be a local as Taiye Selasi talks about in her TED talk. I feel flattered and complimented that someone would think I have some expertise to share.
In my future interactions with strangers in Peru and where ever else, I hope to bring a little bit of this past week. It rarely hurts to assume that a stranger is a local. I just might find a new short cut or place to eat that I wouldn’t have thought to try otherwise in the process.