Canoes, Robberies, and Stereotypes

One thing I’ve realized is that I don’t appreciate being stereotyped, but since moving to Asia I’ve been stereotyped a lot. I get stereotyped because I’m white (which immediately identifies that I am from a western culture) and then if I say I’m American more stereotypes are added to that. I feel that some people see me as a walking dollar sign.

                Though by American standards I’m living below the poverty line, in Southeast Asia I’m doing pretty well, compared to most people. I have so many more opportunities for education and personal advancement than most people in the world. Many people can’t get out of their bad circumstances unless someone helps them and for many people the chances of that happening are pretty bleak.

                Back to the main subject though: stereotyping hurts! It doesn’t feel so good when people only treat you nice because they want money. It doesn’t feel so good when you are genuinely trying to build a friendship and see people for who they are, but all they see you as is a means to an opportunity. (Disclaimer- This is not everybody. We are blessed with many wonderful friends here in Cambodia. We just want to express the opposite also commonly happens).

                Here’s one recent example. Ryan and I went on this canoe ride one day. We could have easily paddled ourselves and would have preferred to do so, but there was no paddle yourself option. We paid the set price up front to be paddled around a bay. The guy was being overly friendly and I already knew what that meant—he was hoping for a tip. I had every intention of giving him one.  I doubted he was making big bucks paddling people around so I wanted to make sure we were generous to him. Then all of a sudden he wheeled us around a big rock and demanded a tip and said he needed it now (Maybe he didn’t want his supervisor seeing him receive a tip at the end, I don’t know).  I gave him what I knew was a good tip and he asked for more. We politely declined, trying to continue to talk with him, but he definitely tried to badger us for more money all the way back to the dock. “You guys are American, you should give more than all other tourists,” he told us. What was supposed to be a fun activity had so quickly became unrestful. Unfortunately, similar situations happen to us often. Sometimes a person’s first question is where we are from, and I know that will shape the way they treat us. Sometimes instead of telling them where I’m from I just tell them I live in Cambodia. The way I get treated often hurts my feelings, but I know I am always called to respond with grace. Always got to let it go.

                Another recent example is when a group of ladies tried to rob me at a mall in Cambodia while my parents were visiting.  My mom and I approached the escalator at the same time as about six women did. I paused to let them go first, but they didn’t go. I proceeded to get on the escalator and they got on at the same time, surrounding me and separating me from my mom. As we got close to the top they pushed in closer acting like they were scared to get off (sometimes people are legitimately not use to escalators and do get scared here). They pushed in close to each other and close to my body. I was very aware of what they were trying to do. I firmly held my bag and still somehow one of the women managed to partially unzip my bag. When she saw that I could see what she was doing, she quickly said “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She didn’t get anything and all I could do is stare at her. For whatever reason no words came out of my mouth. I felt both anger and hurt in my being. Who were these women to plan out doing this to me? They weren’t able to get anything from me and the reality was that even if they did I only had about $4 in my wallet at the time. I could have yelled out “Thief!” in Khmer, drawing onlookers, and immediately shaming these women.

                Afterwards I thought for a while about what my response should be to these things. What should I do? Sure, there is a place for justice, and I know someday justice will be served. I appreciate that most people back home would be worried about me and would justify certain reactions from me, but I must tell you I’m most concerned about the condition of my own heart. Even in this circumstance anger and wrath are not justified and not right. Don’t worry, I’m not going to open my wallet and start throwing money. I don’t think we are called to be unwise, but we are called to serve others.

                We know the word tells us to turn the other cheek, to provide for other’s needs, and to give to others when they ask. What does this mean for me? For example, what if I would have asked these women if I could buy them a coke? I have the language ability to sit down with them and ask them some about their story. Sure, they probably would have declined and they may not have honestly shared their story with me, but at the end of the day, I’m still called to keep my own heart in check first. I was called here to serve. I was called here to give of myself, to make less of myself—and sometimes that’s going to be more emotionally painful than I’d care to admit.

                Father, make my heart pure, please help me deal with myself first and forgive others for the ways in which they wrong me.

                Thanks friends for joining me in this journey! You can continue to remember us that we would learn and understand more how to love, in both the difficult and easy days.

Melissa