Lisa Wool-Rim Sjöblom
Sweden
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been approached by strangers who want to know where I come from. This scene is like the film “Groundhog Day”; I know exactly what’s going to happen, the endless repetition of questions and answers, the same each time: “Where are you from?” Sweden. “No, where are you REALLY from?” Sweden. “Yeah, but where are you from originally?” People keep asking until I finally give in and tell them that I was born in Korea but adopted to Sweden at the age of 2. Then they say: “AHA! I knew it!” As if I’m been playing dumb trying to pass for a Swede when anyone can see that I’m neither blonde nor blue-eyed. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been Swedish for 34 years, who am I trying to fool?
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