rammi.glomp.me

// November 1st, 2009 // Me, NaBloPoMo

I don’t know what it is, but people seem to like asking me for directions. Usually they ask at an inconvenient time, as luck would have it. I’m either desperately late for a meeting with someone, am in a slightly crabby mood, or have my music turned up full volume and am completely oblivious to the world. If none of these scenarios fit, then it’s a safe bet that I’m with family, and am speaking in Thai. What makes people automatically assume (correctly) that I live in the area, and can speak English fluently to them?

When people ask me for directions, I will probably know where they want to go, but am crap at explaining. A simple direction such as “Turn left and walk up the crescent” turns into “Yeah, you need to turn left at the corner by that pink building, and keep walking straight until you see that long banana-shaped road…”, which usually leaves the person more baffled than they were in the beginning.

I visit central London frequently, and it’s populated with tourists. When I feel the need to ask for directions, I look for someone who works in the area. I go and ask staff in Underground stations and coffee shop baristas, not someone who looks very Chinese in an area close to Chinatown, where the chances of me being able to speak English are lessened.

I’m always so surprised when someone makes a beeline for me, and asks me where the toilet/fountain/big dancing donkey is. If there’s barely anyone around, I’d understand the need to not get lost, but when there are plenty of shops and public service areas with people who are able to give you clear, concise directions, I see no need for you to ask me.

Is it because I’m descended from people who have worked in the travel industry? Do I have a big “I LIVE AROUND HERE” sign stapled to my head? Or do people just enjoy getting “Rammi-fied” directions?