Every street vendor or store assistant in the whole of Beijing thinks I look Korean. Sellers, peddlers, waitresses, waiters, helpers and candy-man, they all ask the same thing (if they speak to me at all): ni shi na guo ren? Ni shi Aodaliya ren!? Wo juede ni shi Hanguo ren!! [What country are you from? You’re Australian?! I thought you were Korean!!]

At this point, if there’s anyone with them, anyone selling alongside them or bloody anyone passing by the street who’s heard enough of the conversation, they’ll usually turn to that person and exclaim: Wo juede ta shi Hanguo ren!! HANGUO REN! Ta shi Aodaliya ren! AODALIYA! Juede Hanguo.. Hanguo..

Okay, so I get it: locals think I look Korean. Or probably more accurately, in the area of Beijing most filled with foreign students, and where a lot of Asian female foreign students are Korean, locals think I’m Korean.

Same old, same old.. until I went to lunch with my tutor. And was told this unusual comment from two 50-something, weathered old men: I speak Mandarin like a Korean. I SPEAK Mandarin like a Korean!? Definitely new.

For the record, after she told them I was Chinese but had grown up overseas, they modified their opinion to “that’s why her tones are good, she’s Chinese”. So it’s probably a good thing to speak Mandarin like a Korean. There are tons of Koreans learning Mandarin in Wudaokou and most of the ones I know at Tsinghua are in the upper levels. Plus of course, I’m not saying that being mistaken for a Korean is a bad thing; I’d just like Chinese people to think I’m Chinese.. because that’s what I am.

So now, new goal: go a week without anyone asking me where I’m from, or asking if I’m Korean.

.. okay, a week may be too ambitious. 3 days.