Conversation in the doctor's office

I went to the doctor’s office yesterday, because, yes I am sick again. But I went more because I needed a slip to stay home from work, and also to get my medical certificate to say I can run a half-marathon. Not because I'm really that sick, so no worries mom.

The old lady in the waiting room was very nice, but my conversation with her was certainly stereotypically maladroit.

“Hello young lady. Do you live around here?”
Yes, madam. I introduced myself as an English teacher, and she got my phone number so her grandkids could get private lessons, which would be a definite plus if that actually worked out.
“Did you know that along the port there are Vietnamese and Cambodian missionaries who pass the time? You might enjoy that.”
Ah. Yes quite.
“Where are your origins?”
Like always, when people ask this question (Vous êtes de quelles origines?) I know that the answer they are looking for is "Chinese", as in, "What kind of Asian are you?" But I stubbornly always answer, “I’m American actually. I come from California. I was born there." And only if they keep pressing do I admit, “My parents were from China.”
“And do you have religion dear?”
Um, no.
“Buddhist? Or not at all.”
Not at all.
“Too bad. But it’s good that you’re traveling, because it opens your eyes to different cultures.”
Yes! Totally.
But before I could enthusiastically share about my cultural experiences since moving to France she continued, “You know, people’s cultures are very important. It’s their roots. You can’t go in and cut their roots because then the tree will die.”
Well, certainly I agree, yes it’s very ethnocentric to--
“Like what you’re doing in Afghanistan. Bringing them beauty products and teaching them how to live. But they have their own culture that should be appreciated. What’s going on now is no better than what happened in Africa.”
I managed to get out that I completely agreed, before the doctor called her into the office.

So here is where I got to feel the responsibility of being American!