You hear people talk about the concept of an identity crisis. Every once in a while I have what you might call a geography crisis. I’ll be staring out the window of my speeding taxi at a row of palm trees, or I’ll pause to reflect while waiting in a queue for Yong Tao Foo at a hawker center, and I’ll suddenly have a sort of mild panic attack. Holy crap, I’ll suddenly think, I’m in Singapore.
Tracy shared one of those moments with me in the back of a taxi this evening. She was staring out the window and thinking, “look at that cute asian girl”, and then it occurred to her that everyone she was seeing was asian, that in fact, we are in Asia. It reminded me of an old joke: What do they call Chinese food in China?… They call it “food”.