Travelling while Black

They tell you in the guidebooks what to expect if you're gay or if you're a woman. Hell, they need to do it for if you're recognisably black.  

 "Americanah" - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichi

Ain't this the truth! Ain't this the truth!

*Ms Adichi speaks a whole lot of truth in Americanah, by the way.*

So while I am not sure what is going on with my life and what 2015 will hold, I still have to at least think of vacation ideas. It's bad enough being a solo traveller - having to find places where a solo traveller feels safe and secure. It's bad enough being a solo female traveller - having to be extra careful in the choices you make as it relates to hotels, travel etc. But add being black to that - it's just a whole other thing altogether.

Travelling while black is real - the notion that this is an issue, I mean. Shopping trips to Miami and New York - no problem. It's like being at home. London - such a melting pot that it's rare that I actually feel like an alien. Londoners ignore everyone - black, white.  But there are some places where I have felt totally out of sorts. The Rome experience to this day, always makes me a bit upset.

Vacations should be carefree for everyone.
This is not me, btw

Luckily, the good experiences outweigh the bad, and though there have been several moments of "wtf!" on my trips, I think they usually had less to do with racism and more to do with:

Plain and simple ignorance - Dear Europe - all black people do not live in Africa. Ever heard the word "diaspora"? I cannot tell you how many times I have been asked to say an English word in "my language". For example - old guy in Florence, Italy. Worse yet, when they find out I am not from Africa, then I just HAVE TO BE American, even if my accent does not quite fit the bill. "Ever been to New York?" Yes, I have been to New York but that is the magic of air travel. I am not American. If someone actually knows where Trinidad is after I tell them, I give them a virtual hug because it is almost miraculous! I am truly an oddity which takes me to the next point...

Curiousity - I heard someone refer to the impolite staring as "rarism" as opposed to"racism". In some of these quasi-homogeneous cities, people like me are a rarity. You are like the raisin in the bowl of milk so they stop and stare and you check to make sure you don't have something in your nose or that your fly is not open because the stares are so pervasive and invasive. Worse, in some cities, the black people there tend to be immigrants, and in my experience, they were usually street vendors/scam artists or hooking. Enter well-dressed black woman and it's like "wtf"? You have now confused the people even more with your bourgie blackness. For me it is always a bit bizarre, especially coming from a place where people stare at you cause they like your ass and want to grab it. Noone stares at my hair, or wants to touch it here, but it is a real phenomenon in some of these places - one that is not cute no matter how clueless or genuinely curious the people may be. There should be a guidebook for residents of these cities - Dos and Don'ts of Meeting Black People for the First Time.

They are just naturally unfriendly and surly - The haterade may actually have nothing to do with the colour of your skin. The people sometimes are just plain unmannerly, unfriendly, uncouth and as we say in Trinidad, "just not on you" and have no damn "broughtupsy".Sad to say, London always comes to mind. They are just a special breed of homo sapien - totally divorced from the reality of life all around them, but when you get around the cold exterior, and get them to put down the iPhone, they can be lovely people. In some places though, they are just like this - fullstop.

But don't get me wrong - travelling while black has the real issues of racism. I have had bus drivers ignore me, waitresses take their damn time to serve me and when they did, I got none of the smiles and sweetness the white customers got. I have had border control brace me as though I were some kind of hoodlum, and Customs stop me to search my luggage and when I looked around, everyone else being searched looked like me. My friend had the cops called on her as she was pumping gas at an isolated gas station behind God's back in the US. And let's not forget another friend who was followed to her hotel room by a hotel employee, accosted and told that prostitutes were not allowed in the hotel.

And it does not matter that we are not drug mules or international escorts. It does not matter that I am educated to Master's level, have a very nice job, with paid vacation and international medical coverage, and zero desire to stay past the time on my visa. The fact of the matter is my passport looks strange and worse yet, I look strange cause I am dark skinned, with dark brown eyes and dark hair. Oh, I'm black. Right. Forgot about that.

But it would also be unfair to paint one city black (pun very well intended) because of the idiocy of a few. Most of my experiences have been positive and a city like Rome, for example, is so beautiful that you just ignore the nonsense and try to make the best of it until you can get the hell outta there. Not to mention I had the chance to meet a friend for the first time ever, so there were a lot of good memories from that trip. I have learnt over time to not miss the opportunities in front of me because of any stereotypes or prejudice people may have. That's on them.

That being said, I am not sure where to go this year. My tolerance levels for nonsense are at an all time low, and it would be nice to travel among more people like myself, but still - the world is my oyster so onward! Ideas still welcome, keeping in mind the solo, female bit as well.

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Fire and Brimstone for you Evil Weave Wearers

So a friend shared this story, about a pastor who has banned the evil among us from his church - the vile sinners being those women, those Jezebels who worship, not God, but the Indian and Brazilian Remy.  For the uninformed, the preacher man is referring to women who wear weaves. Yes...home boy is not a supporter of the "hair in a bag" revolution, and as he says, he is tired of the "phony ponies". To this end, he has declared a ban on all those women seeking God, but who have a weave sewn in or glued on.

Now I find the l'il pastor bright and farse because I do not understand what a woman's hairstyle has to do with her faith or with her quest for peace and salvation. Whether she is bald, rocking dreadlocks or 14" Brazilian Remy in 1B, that should not be his problem. Everyone has a right to self expression, whether it is via tattoos, piercings or hairstyles. You don't have to like it, but just accept it. Unless that weave has not been washed for weeks, and is rank smelling, these women are not hurting anybody.

I guess he does not listen to gospel music because I have seen the super fabulous contemporary gospel artistes, like Yolanda Adams, and they are rockin' the best Remy money can buy.

That being said, I do agree with Pastor's point where he says

I lead a church where our members are struggling financially. I mean really struggling. “Yet, a 26 year old mother in my church has a $300 weave on her head.

Yolanda Adams - rockin' that Remy

Here, I can co-sign with pastor, because I have seen it. It is all around me. You see them on the news, holding placards, saying they cannot feed their children, and life is hard, but they rocking EXPENSIVE Remy, have the best manicures, more gold than Trinidad James, and made up with the fake eyelashes, in the best brands. Again, it may be your right to spend your money however you like, but let's be real with the complaining if your entire look could feed said children for a month or even two. I have a job and I gasp at the prices of these "premium" hair types. Gasp and walk away. Ladies, you cannot eat the Remy and your kids cannot eat the Remy and sorry, but noone will take you seriously if you claim you are suffering but your hair, and the rest of you for that matter, cost as much as a monthly grocery bill for a small family.

So maybe pastor is just fed up of the women who come to him all done up, and complaining that God has forsaken them. I do not agree with our dear pastor, that all women who wear weaves have low self-esteem. I have rocked weaves and my friends can attest that I "over like" myself. lol. I just am not a hair person in the way that some women can keep their hair looking ultra fabulous at all times, and the ease and convenience of a weave done to my specifications is what sometimes works for me. So pastor needs to cool it.

I do agree with the author though, in that I hope that pastor is investing the same amount of energy in preaching the gospel, and counselling those lost members of the flock who may have been led astray by sex, drugs and other such vices, as he has been in admonishing women for their choice of hairstyle. Hair a Christian doth not make.

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Confessions of a Bougie Black Woman

I have been growing more and more fascinated by the whole concept of "being bougie" and what that really means. In Caribbean parlance, bougie can become "stoosh/stush". I have been called both stoosh and bougie and guess what? I own my bougieness.

Bougie.- aspiring to be a higher class than one is; a hacked truncation of the word bourgeoisie, which refers to the middle class in Europe, but a more affluent class level in the United States; anything that is perceived to be "upscale" from a blue collar point of view.

And this bit irritates me -

Bougie - Characteristic applied to African American women who display snobbish traits; often used to describe African Americans who are accused of "selling out"

While I am Afro-Trini, the term "bougie" still seems to hold some negative connotations to it and I am here to debunk this negativity.

If bougie means wanting to be successful, self-reliant, awesome and aspiring to create a legacy my kids can be proud of and aspire to, then I am bougie

If bougie means not having my junk spilling out of too-short skirts and too-low cut blouses, and not making a spectacle of myself via my mode of dress, then I am bougie

If bougie means that I can walk away, risking the wrath of those who may call me a coward, because I choose not to "run up some girl's chest", pull her weave, cuss her mama etc, in the middle of town, over nonsense, like a man for example - cite me - I am bougie

If bougie means I avoid certain events because they cultivate the type of behaviour as described above, in favour of less volatile environments, then I am bougie

If bougie means I have an appreciation and love for culture, whether it is a ballet or a night at the theatre, as much as I do for a fete, then I am bougie

If bougie means I don't drop it like it's hot in a public forum, get drunk or pass out after a night out, then yeah, I am hella bougie

If bougie means that I am willing to sacrifice certain things, so I can be independent and not have to find a baby daddy to "mind me", then yeah, I am mega bougie

If bougie means I also like, not prefer, but also like, eating in a certain way, in certain places, and having certain types of food and beverages such as sushi and wine, then I guess I am indeed bougie

(Let me also say, I am not a great patron of street food, not because I am "bougie", but because I am anal about food preparation, and the flagrant neglect of public health regulations. That's not bougie. That's a bit neurotic and I confess in this case, I bloody well am! And in this case, I have cultivated a love for cooking to circumvent the risk of food poisoning. lol)

If bougie means I will, without batting an eye, dismiss a man who disrespects me verbally, physically, emotionally, either in public or in private moments, then hell yes, I am bougie

If bougie means I will appreciate a man who treats me well, respects where I am now and where I have come from to get there and supports me in going even further, and even if he is not black, then I guess I am bougie. (God forbid he is not black, then I have sold out in the worst way!)

And bougie does not mean one has to look down on anyone, or be a snob. It should be about empowerment. I am not only bougie but I am true to my bougieness and committed to being a bougie black woman. I own it.

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No Paparazzi, please

There are the cute blue heels that are my avatar.

I am really tickled to be one of the Editor's Picks on Bloggers.com today. I mean, there is no red carpet, no flash bulbs, no prize money (the worst part...lol), but it's cute. So yaay me.

It's pretty amusing to realise 1). how many people actually read my nonsense, 2). how many people actually enjoy reading my nonsense and 3). how much I enjoy writing my nonsense. It is the one part of my day that is not frustrating, and is completely mine.

So thanks to everybody who ensures it is not a solitary experience.

Sephora, Florence, Italy - I had a time in here

Almost every day I get my email from Sephora, torturing me with the specials and sales, and I ask again, Why isn't there a Sephora in London? I mean, y'all taking this Britishness thing too damn far, man. I cannot get NZ cheese. I cannot get American Cheerios (I don't like the Cheerios here - half sweet, half plain, in one box. Gimme 100% PLAIN Cheerios!!! OMG!). And now I cannot get Sephora? Every trip to Miami, the PT and I must hit up Sephora. New York - Sephora. I made it a point to visit Sephora in both Paris and Florence cause it is just one of my favourite shops ever. London - great capital, home of the queen. Why? Why?

Maybe it is for the best since I can barely afford food, and have to resort to getting excited in Boots. Needless to say, I needed a toner and bought one from Boots - a Boots brand and I selected it after reading the reviews, because let's face it, if I was going to buy a toner for under £2, I wanted to make sure it was not going to set my face on fire or burn off my eyebrows. Really one cannot go wrong with witch hazel and tea tree oil.  I had never had a toner that was a blend of both and never used a cheap toner either, but kudos to Boots for this godsend product. Easy on the skin and easy on the pocket. It is as good as a toner can get. Take the free plug, Boots.

A winning beauty combination, ladies. On a budget!

Of course I also got my Mudd facial mask and it really does give a boost of beauty confidence. How I survived this long with just soap and water, and my L'Oreal scrubby wubby is a miracle. I am now leaving it for "special" occasions, which means I may never use it again. Kidding kidding.

Still, Boots is no Sephora. Let's just keep it real now. I am glad I had the presence of mind to pack at least 6 months' supply, though it might really be 8, of cosmetics for black, tropical skin, or I would be a hot, nashy mess. It was a funny story at lunch on Sunday, about a black girl who was using a brand that shall remain nameless, bought here in London, and thought she was swanky, until she went back home to her black friends, and everyone asked her what on earth she was using to be looking so grey. lol. The darkest products here were clearly not dark enough for her but funny that noone thought it would be nice to tell her this. I guess they thought her face was grey? lol. Thank God for Pennywise - the Trini Boots - and my stocks. Looking grey is not an option. Funny that there are so many black people here and still a dearth in GOOD black beauty supplies (emphasis on "good"). Hmmm.

I'm working on my second assignment. As I said before, blogging is the only time I am not frustrated or vexed. lol

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Black is Beautiful, Vybz Kartel. Orange is for sundresses.

I really loathe statistics. I am being forced to do stats over these 2 weeks - all day, every day, for 2 weeks. Whose squirrel did I run over in a past life? I will not even fake it. I hate statistics. I will not pretend to be a good sport about it. I just hate it.

Now that I have gotten that off my chest, I really wanted to say something briefly about Vybz Kartel. For the non-Caribbean readers, Mr Kartel is a popular dancehall artiste from Jamaica who has recently been in the news, not for his music but for his appearance. Why? Well, he used to look like this - nice, unspoilt, sexy chocolate brown skin...

Now he looks like this -

I mean, the dude was not God's gift to women before, but now he is simply heinous. The phenomenon of bleaching in Jamaica, where black people feel some deep desire to apply bleaching products to their skin to lighten their appearance does not seem to be going away. With the transformation of Vybz Kartel from a healthy looking, not too bad looking chocolate coloured man, to this Frankenstein looking creature, I am really saddened that so many black people turn to such silly measures to try to keep up with European standards of beauty.

Vybz, in his interview on a radio station said he was not trying to distance himself from being a black man, but rather - and this really amused me - it's a "style". He said he put in orthodontic braces not because he needed them but because it was a style, and in the same way, he has been turning orange because it is a fashion statement. Vybz - a fashion statement is a pair of hot jeans, a new piece of bling, maybe some new shoes. Bleach is not a fashion statement. It's just being dotish. He went on to comment that he needed to highlight his numerous tattoos which were hard to see on the skin God blessed him with, so he just had to bleach so the world could see his artwork. Amazing.

The horrible thing about this is that he is a public figure in Jamaica and contrary to what he believes, people emulate him and people like him. So when he does this to himself, for whatever reason, he is simply propagating the belief that light skin, or in this case, nasty looking orange skin, is hip, happening and beautiful. I am even more disturbed that this gentleman is going to bring out his own line of "cake soap" - bleaching soap. So what are you telling young people about being black in this world?

It's the same issues I have with women who live by the frickin' weave. I call them the rebound weavers - women who cannot live without a weave; who jump from weave to weave; whose between-weave periods last less than 12 hours; who feel their beauty is somehow not enhanced when they are not wearing fake hair. Nutters. I have no problem with a black woman who wants to wear a weave or braids or what have you, for a new look, or as Vybz says, as a "fashion statement". Hell, I have two awesome wigs that I bust out when I feel the need to vamp it up. I love my wigs. I paid good money for my wigs.

But when noone can remember what you look like without fake hair sewn on to your head, or you get offended when someone else points out your weave to people who may not know, for example, white people, then I have a serious issue with this. What are you afraid of, or are you so consumed (and confused) by this image of beauty - of long, flowing hair around your shoulders, no matter whose head it came from, that you cannot fathom walking the street with your short natural hair. I remember how annoyed a friend - a male friend - was when I did a weave - seriously un-im-pressed.  Some men really find it unattractive, not to mention a form of false advertising. It can also be the butt of jokes, ridicule and disgust when you wear a weave. And though I have never been in one, let's not mention getting into fights with women - the first thing they go for in any scenario is the hair, so imagine wearing a weave in a catfight, and worse being in a catfight with dozens of onlookers. The shame. lol. These are among the many reasons, why I do not "ride or die" with the whole weave thing. Take me as I come, buddy. A dude told me this week, he does not date women who wear glasses. If that is the best he can come up with, then me and my $4000 glasses will be alright.

But I am really concerned that black people are questioning the beauty that they have. I see so many people running to the Caribbean to lie on a beach all day to darken their skin, while people like Vbyz "is a style" Kartel is destroying his beautiful brown skin with cake soap. And then you have the Naomi Campbells and Hollywood's black fashionistas who encourage little girls to want a weave for that straight haired look - the "good hair" look. This is a whole other argument which I know I had discussed on another forum, and this is all getting me rather pissed off, so I will stop.

And while I like to cast my eye on  a nice red man, this ain't it, Vybz. I would really like to know if there is any woman in her right mind who will now watch this orange, crusty looking Vybz Kartel and want to be seen with him. I am also curious - did he bleach everything????? I know the saying is once you go black, you never go back, but what do they say about once you go orange? I am really not willing to find out.

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Beauty, I am, as defined by ME

Naomi Campbell

I have done a weave twice, and braids once. The braids experiment ended disastrously with the hair I had been growing out for months having to be chopped to a mere 2-3 inches. I had asked the hairdresser whether it was supposed to be that tight and she said yes, but that kinda pain could not have been normal. Beauty is pain, my ass. My short hair actually was quite hot and I loved it while it was short (not so much when it got to that transition phase between short and long) and my short hair grew back but I have always had a little bit of a bad patch in the middle of my head that just never grew back to its full length, and I will curse her and her girl children for years to come.

My first weave experience was awesome. I looked hot and I looked different. That was the main reason. I am not one of these black women or black men for that matter who believe that long, straight hair is the epitome of female beauty. But I am one of those women who like a new style every now and then and this was a great way to try a new style without doing anything drastic to my regular do. The second weave experience was not as super as it ended slightly like the braids experience - not as horrendously but when I see chunks of my hair coming out in the comb, I say to myself this will not happen ever again. I then invested in a great wig which on bad "hair from the roots" days, comes out of the bag to complement the hotness that is me.

I saw the photo of Naomi Campbell this morning and the consequences of being a black model in a world where beauty is seen as leggy, skinny, blue eyed and long haired. The effects of trying to live up to such a standard, impossible to (safely) achieve if you were born with dark skin and hips are now evident. The sad thing is, she will probably just buy a wig to cover it up. Her money is made on an image and she will most likely stick to living up to that image until death. It must be quite a burden to pretend to be someone else all the time. And it's not a self inflicted pressure either. I have met black men who will argue to the death that a black woman should not cut her hair and should aim to have long hair, even if it means wearing a weave and putting both your natural hair and your wallet under pressure, because if you want that weave to look like Naomi's, you have to make a financial investment that could probably buy 2 months worth of groceries. And of course every time you pick up a magazine, or turn on the tv, there is some woman, black or white, rockin' the long hair, real or otherwise and sending the average woman running to the hair store to buy packs of hair shaved off Indian women's heads for money. I'm glad that my money does not depend on my looks or I may be a hot emotional mess, albeit a hot hot emotional mess (not to mention a hungry, baldhead mess...lol). I am glad that 99% of the time, I think I am gorgeous, even with my non-European hips, thighs, eyes, hair and mouth, with or without additions and fake embellishments (though I will never part ways with my mascara! NEVER!!!)

The dilemma and the phenomenon that is hair! Who knew?

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It's my black hair that keeps me curvy!!!

Going to the gym takes a special type of commitment. I am usually tired, so that's the first thing.

The next thing is to get to my gym I pass my turnoff for home. It only takes one sharp bad drive to the left and maybe some cuss words from some fellow fat motorist to get me off the beat me up path and onto the path to salvation aka home. There have been a few days (count Mon, Wed, and Thurs of last week) where I made the necessary bad drive from the fast lane (as we call it here) to the lane to make the turnoff to my couch.

Then I go to a very popular gym, with all the teeny bopper girls whose main purpose in life is either to see or be seen. I don't mind you doing what makes you happy off your membership fee, but when you crowd up the gym, hog the equipment to chat with boys and keep me back from whittling away my hips, then I have a serious serious problem with your extracurricular activities.

And then I also remembered a conversation I had with a dude last year at a conference in New York. My fellow Bajan PR superstar and I were the only black women at the table. You know this was deliberate that we sat together - but it was just a bonus that she was from the Caribbean as well. This bright American dude of Anglo-Saxon descent, then comes to our table to tell us he is writing a paper. On what you ask?

Black women, weight and hair.

It was his observation, from talking to other black women (so he say) that black women shun the gym because they don't want to sweat and ultimately sweat out their perm or their weave. He was saying this all with the straightest of faces. Now while the dude was probably right, and we will get to this, ummm...I don't know you and you're suggesting I am fat? lol. No no...he says. But he wanted to know if I avoided the gym to safeguard my expensive salon job. The question therefore really was would I prefer to be fat with great hair, or skinny with jacked up hair?

You know he was still waiting for an answer. Ms Barbados was not feeling him either with his farseness and out of order line of questioning and I could tell the white women at the table were wishing he would just leave as well. He took the hint real quick.

But to answer the question, unlike Caucasian type hair, washing black hair after the gym if say you go in the morning, requires great skill, equipment and hair products. It's not a wash and wear kinda thing, especially if you have locks or a weave. THIS requires a trip to the salon or a neighbour with salon skills. Thus I now go in the evening, in case you were wondering why (plus the other hassle of walking with clothes and makeup and sharing showers with nasty women who insisted on showing off ALLLLLLL their junk before and after a shower was not at all appealing anymore).

Would I prefer to be fat and have Pantene commercial type hair? No. Do black women avoid the gym because of the hair issues? I don't know. I certainly don't. I go to the salon on Saturday and may take a day on Monday but it's business as usual in the sweatshop on Tuesday. I avoid the gym for all the other reasons listed above. My gym has a lot of black women who work out hard, sweat a lot and they keep coming back -perms, dreads, weaves, braids, screwballs, you name it, we've got it. I don't know about American women, but Trini women seem to be fine with it, mister. And when was the last time he looked at say the Olympics? Ever noticed your American female athletes? They did not win medals cause they were scared of messing up their hair. Maybe they won via other means (ahem), but the hair did not hold them back. Female track athletes are some of the swankiest athletes out there. Steups. And once you ladies wash it and keep that from smelling like ole socks, I am fine with it as well.

But I still hate trying to find new ways of making the treadmill or stepping on an elliptcal for an hour exciting. Although, there is a dude who now thinks he can compete with the elliptical master and tries to keep up with my faster than a speeding bullet pace and hold perfect sexy form for the full hour. After 35mins I was alone again. Loser.

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