One more Asian story

THH reminded me of another good Asian story.

In my former life, I was a high school school teacher. In both my former life and my present life, I like to eat Chinese food. (When I was in elementary, I was told I liked rice because I was Asian). Husband and I were regular customers at the local China restaurant, and I regularly tried to befriend the owner's five year old son. The owner and his wife spoke very little English, but I found that if I was patient and creative and used a lot of hand motions, I could communicate basic concepts to the wife other than "seafood delight."

At some point, her son was sick and she asked me for help. I don't remember exactly what happened, other than I brought a thermometer and some cough drops. She took me upstairs to their apartment, which was very cold because the landlord refused to fix the thermostat despite their requests. (The day I called the landlord was a day foreshadowing my attorney occupation). We took the temp, felt his lymph nodes, and concluded he just had a sore throat or something that didn't concern her too much. I think she was lonely, because then she showed me pictures, showed me her home, and tried to talk to me. She shared that her husband was gambling a little too much, and that she missed her family and friends.

She had some concerns about her son at school. She needed some forms submitted for him, and she asked if I would help. So I did. At a district workshop later that month, I saw the elementary principal and told him that if he needed any other forms from the Xio family, that I knew them and could assist.

A few weeks later, I got a phone call during class. I was in the middle of teaching some great cooking skill when the phone rang. I picked up the phone, with 25 pairs of eyes watching and 25 pairs of ear listening.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is the principal. I'm here with the school nurse, and the [Xio boy] has strep throat..."

OK. So they want me to bring him home because they can't get a hold of her? They want me to get him some medicine?

"So anyways, I was wondering if you could help us tell her."

"..."

I was confused. And then I realized what was going on. Of course. I'm Asian. Obviously I speak Chinese.

"Um, well... All I do is speak really slowly."

Now it was his turn to be silent.

"Uh, er, you... don't speak Chinese?"

"No."

"Oh, uh, nevermindgoodbyeclick!"

I was laughing. I turned to my audience of eighth graders, and after I told them the story they all laughed too. Not that those cute kids are any better. On the first day of class I used to tell them that I was Asian, and as a result I know karate, because all Asians know karate. Most of them nodded in awe. HI-YA!