Where are you from?

I dread this frequently asked question.

Being half Scottish, half Malaysian-Chinese, born in Singapore and lucky enough to have lived in seven countries, all my social and cultural references are completely mixed up.

There is no short answer. I am orang campur. Although in the rest of the world I am simply known as a Eurasian who has never set down roots and loves to travel.

But when I say this in Malaysia, I’m always asked how much Portuguese blood I have.

Not one drop is my response. For many it is a prerequisite to being Eurasian in this part of Southeast Asia.

The original definition of Eurasian was for one of mixed Anglo-Indian ancestry, although nowadays it is used for people of mixed European and Asian ancestry.

Half Scottish, half Malaysian-Chinese, for example.

I’m often asked which half is Scottish? I always respond that it’s definitely my lower half. Thanks Dad.

I’m also known as an orang putih and a caucasian.  If I’m half yellow and half tartan, how can I be white? I ask my orang coklat and orang kuning friends.

Yet my father-in-law still reckons I look Mexican. So do some immigration officers.

When I worked in the US, returning from dive trips in Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula with a deep suntan, I was sometimes “invited” for a second interview courtesy of New York’s immigration department.

As soon as I opened my mouth, my British accent helped allay any doubts over my nationality.

And being called Caucasian? Now there’s a misleading racial category, as I’m not white, nor am I from the region of the Caucasus in Europe that borders Iran and Turkey.

So I’m considered a white man, Caucasian, Mexican, Portuguese and Eurasian. I’m confused.

The funniest was when I lived in The Little Red Dot, our southern neighbour.

Registering at my local dentist on Orchard Road I was handed one of those CMIO (Chinese, Malay, Indian, Others) tick box forms that asks for my personal details.

Under “Others” I wrote Eurasian.  And for my religion I wrote “Irrelevant”.

“Which country is the religion ‘Irrelevant’ from because you speak very good English,” asked the local receptionist. I kid you not.

When traveling overseas, street traders and shop-owners will ask you the same question. Where you from, mister?

It helps them to build up a quick friendly relationship with you. For them, bantering with their new friend and customer helps seal their sale. 

Knowing where you are from helps them to negotiate the price of goods with you. The less scrupulous among them will ask so as to determine how much to overcharge you.

The theory at least, is that if you come from certain countries you have more money to spend, and you can be overcharged with less or no guilt.

Another theory is that sales people will spend more time convincing you to buy if you come from certain nations, rather than waste time with those from countries where everything is bargained for, right down to the last cent.

My orang putih father will never get as good a price as my orang Malaysia mother.

When using a travel operator or travel guide, I’m often asked the second worse question. What job do you do?

Being friendly and a way to break the ice, it also helps them determine how much to charge you and how much of a tip they can expect to receive.

The job title of English teacher seems to do the trick.

A respected and respectful, albeit low–paid job, in most parts of the world. Yet one that doesn’t encourage you being ripped off too much.

Strangers abroad and locally will ask you these questions to determine what you have in common and where to start the conversation.

By pigeonholing people according to where you’re from, it helps some people to decide how to treat you. And that can be a problem.

Should we treat one another differently because of what we think you are like, because of where you’re from?

If you want to start getting really technical, lets take the “out of Africa” civilization theory. We are nearly all related to Africans going back 200,000 years.

So logically we must all have some African blood in us. Hakuna matata, my Swahili-speaking friends. Where are you from?