Feb. 29th, 2004

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Just before midnight, Saturday night, lots of kids cruising in their rice burners. I looked at a cheesy-looking white Honda a little too long, I suppose, and one of the white guys inside shouted, "This isn't your country, what are you doing here?"

One never gets the quick response out in time. In this case, I should have shouted, "Visiting!" in a clear, loud, American accent.

Unfortunately, it took me too long to figure out whether I should be offended. I mean, he was right. This isn't my country. On behalf of Chinese-New Zealanders I flipped the guy the bird.

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