Zero Tolerance

The following is a weekly “journal entry” for my COMM 486U Business Communications class. I wrote this a week ago, and the task was to “write a very succinct and compelling story about an intercultural experience”, with the introduction following a certain format. I thought it’d make for an interesting story to share with others as well.

I am a 20 year old Chinese-Canadian female, and I would like to tell you about an embarrassing intercultural incident that happened to me in London over this past summer. I was visiting England for my annual August family vacation, and on that particular day, we went to go see the famous Natural History Museum.

While I was browsing an exhibit on the third floor, and my family and I had somewhat scattered about in the museum, I noticed a guy peering at the same display that I was looking at. He was Caucasian, had a tall build, and looked to be around my age. I glanced over at him in passing, and he smiled at me.

“Great exhibit, huh?” he said, with a heavy British accent.

“Yeah, it’s spectacular!” I replied.

“So where are you from?” he asked.

“Vancouver, Canada. And I assume you’re a local?” I countered.

“I live about an hour away in Romford, but yes, I’m definitely a local.”

And the banter continued on for quite some time. He seemed charming, funny, and genuine, and I enjoyed talking to him. Soon after, I glanced at my watch and realized that I needed to go meet my family in the museum’s cafeteria for lunch. So I said, “It’s been really nice talking to you, but I think I have to head off soon.”

“Aw, that’s a shame,” he said. “Well, before you go, I just wanted to tell you that you’re very pretty for an Asian.”

“Wait. What?” I was shocked. Did he really just say that?

He looked at me, puzzled. “Is something wrong? I just said you were pretty.”

“For an Asian?” I said. “Are you insinuating that Asians are uglier than other races?”

“No, I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just that-“ he breaks off.

“It’s just what?”

“I usually don’t think Asians are attractive.” He doesn’t look me in the eye.

“Goodbye.” I had nothing more to say. I turned on my heel and walked away.


London Travels: Wimbledon, Ladurée, & Reflections

After flying for 10 hours and sleeping for 13, I’m back safe and sound in Canada! I thought I might take this time to blog about my last couple of days in beautiful London.

August 24: My mom is a big tennis fan, and so we paid a visit to Wimbledon as per her request. There was an outdoor tour of the park and a museum, and (of course) we opted for both. Most unfortunately for us, it was raining really hard, which soon turned into a full out thunderstorm. Our tour group was quite large, and everyone was soaked. One guy didn’t have an umbrella or raincoat and each time after we went outdoors, he would take his shirt off and wring it out. It was that bad.




But despite the torrential rain, it was completely worth it because I got to visit the press interview room, where I got the chance to sit in the chairs where tennis greats such as Federer, Nadal, Djokovic, among others all sit to give their post-match interviews. We learned a lot of about the whole process at Wimbledon, from the checking in to after the match interview requirements to reimbursements to leaving.


Fun fact: ALL players are required to present their I.D. at the front desk upon checking in. It doesn’t matter who you are, you must do so or you will not be permitted entry. The tour guide (who was a total champ and who I really liked) told us a story about how Federer was scrambling to find his I.D. upon getting to the front of the line and Andy Murray was behind him, laughing.

Afterwards, we dried off at the cafe with hot soup, and toured the museum.

The next day, we visited the London Museum. I haven’t got much to say about it, because at this point I was really sick of museums (my family is really big on them), but it was free like most others, and it was decently engaging even for a jaded ol’ soul like me.


I found this cute tin at the gift shop. So it’s not just a stereotype after all 🙂

Afterwards, we left the museum around 4:15pm and I really, REALLY wanted to go to Ladurée, home of the world’s most famous macarons, but it closed at 5:00pm on Sundays. I had been yearning to the entire vacation and this was the day to do it, as the next day (and coincidentally our last day) was Bank Holiday in London, and I had no doubt the streets and tube would be packed full of people. More on that later.

We rushed and rushed, and Google maps took me through a much longer than necessary walking route, but I finally found it at Burlington Gardens.


They were very pricey, at £1.70 each, or almost $3.00 CAD. I ended up buying a box of 8, but in retrospect that was probably a mistake because I only had 2 on the day of, 3 the day after, and the last 2 when I got home- which by then just weren’t as fresh and tasty as the ones I ate right away. A word of caution to anyone who plans to bring them home: they have a 3-day quality decay, so buy it on the last day(s) of your stay.


It was a very tiny store, and according to Yelp, typically has a long wait time because you can fit max 3-4 people in the store at once. But since I went at almost closing, I didn’t have to wait at all.

The very last day, we visited the Science Museum, which is located very close to the famous Natural History Museum. This is probably the most engaging museum I’ve been to, containing 5 floors of interactive exhibits and displays (I like science a lot more than history), and a lovely sit-down restaurant called Deep Blue Café with a dark electric-blue ambiance and brightly-lit tables.


For our last dinner in London, we went to the Gourmet Burger Kitchen in Westfield, or gbk. I was overjoyed because some of my friends had recommended this place to me. I ordered the Cheese & Bacon burger, along with a side of Skinny Fries to share.


The burger is made with 100% Angus Beef and I had mine done medium-well. It was very rich and I could barely finish mine. And let’s just say, I won’t be sharing the skinny fries next time- they’re delicious!

On our way back to the hotel (and honestly throughout the day), we were stunned by the amount of shenanigans that occurred on Bank Holiday (Monday August 26). Every street corner was littered with glass alcohol bottles, wrappers, and other garbage, and the air reeked of cigarette smoke.


This is what my neighbourhood (Kensington/Chelsea) normally looks like: now imagine it trashed.

People were loud, drunk, and barely clothed on the streets and on transit (I almost witnessed a fight on the tube when a drunk guy tried to steal another guy’s keys out of his jeans pocket).  The amount of litter: it looked like a tornado had ripped through the streets of London. It was so different from the idyllic, calm (well only in Kensington/Chelsea), pleasant London that I had gotten so accustomed to. My brother and I both said, “Stop! This is ruining our image of London!”

It went on all throughout the day and into the night, the air filled with sounds of sirens and shouting. As we returned to the hotel after a long day, my brother and I were stopped by a large security guard at the door, asking us whether we lived there. After we answered both yes and with our room number, he continued to press us further. I was surprised because a) clearly I am a tourist- I have a North American accent, b) my face doesn’t exactly look intimidating, I wasn’t under the influence of anything, and I was wearing proper clothing, c) I am not used to security not believing me. After he saw our parents walk in through the revolving door, he gave us a sheepish smile and let us go.

Our guess was that Hilton hired extra security on that day in case people came in to cause trouble, use the restroom extensively, etc. It was eye-opening to see another side of London, but by the next day, people had to go to work and things were restored to normal.

We woke up at 6am the next morning, ate our last English breakfast at the hotel, and left for the airport.


My favourite thing about my trip was visiting the River Thames/Westminster Bridge/Big Ben. It was just so breathtakingly beautiful, despite the hordes of people, peddlers, and birds. And developing an unhealthy obsession with red telephone boxes and red double-decker buses.


London, you were a really good time. I can’t imagine living here for the long-term as I’d miss delicious Asian food, quality tap water, and driving on the right side too much, but I am most definitely in love with you and would like to return someday.