Small town

ok so here's the thing. Sometimes i forget. I forget that I am Aliki. I forget that I am a Watson Jones and I forget that I am black. Then i walk down the streets of Bendigo and I remember. or it is remembered for me. there are 100,000 people in this town and they all know your business. if i disappeared off the face of the earth i would be found by some hick in this country town. Google my name, and there is a picture of me in year 7 in my high school uniform. Seriously, i wish sometimes I was anonymous, but I've come to accept the reality that, even if i wanted to be anonymous, i have three older siblings whose shadows i have to follow in. All these things may seem trivial to you, but when you serve people at a fruit shop who "remember you when you were in a push chair" for 4 hours straight on a Saturday morning, or walking down the street with your friends, coming home and half the town already knows what you bought and ate. I wish i was exaggerating but i'm not. this town of anglo saxons, caucasions, white people, whatever you want to call it, will swallow me alive. Not because i dislike living here, but because being a minority in a town that has the label as "least multiculural city in Australia"
I've been thinking about this for a while. I think it all started when the bus driver asked me how my new neice was. Considering my niece lives 200km away, i was startled. He said "oh i used to go for runs with your brother." SERIOUSLY.