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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Cosmopolitan Love...or Single Gal Stalking

Cosmopolitan love....the nice kind

So of course, no weekend away for the single gal would be complete without some single gal adventures.

First of all, I must admit that the quality of the man candy in Miami was really sub-par. I was really not impressed. I mean, sure it had been a while since my last visit, but where did all the semi-cute guys go? What I did see bordered on “America’s Most Wanted” and “Redneck Rehab” (thanks to my girlfriend, for exposing me to such amazing American pop culture as Redneck Rehab). I mean…wow. It was bad.

What I can easily say now with much confidence is that my stalkers are international. I mean, yes…I am a cosmopolitan stalker magnet. On this trip, I had my first Guyanese stalker (he had to have been Guyanese!!) and my very first Israeli stalker. The Israeli stalker was special. Not only was he mesmerized by the Trini hotness, but he was so gobsmacked that he scribbled his number on a piece of paper and urged me to call him. I have the number in the back pocket of my jeans – a souvenir of my international prowess – but no call was ever made. Not sure where ashy ankle, old guy stalker was from, but he kept staring at me in the store with this hungry, rabid look that made me feel like I was covered in honey barbecue sauce. Oh and let's not forget the Hispanic-American TSA dude who felt it would be remiss of him to not subtly or not so subtly "invite" himself to my hotel while he checked my landing card.

There were also some very strange social rituals brought on either by alcoholic overindulgence (God, I hope so) or just by simple insanity/lasciviousness. We went to the Clevelander at Marlins Park on Saturday night and wow, these girls were really high on life (insert sarcasm here). One girl was the obvious “star” with her antics which included dancing in-between the legs of the moko jumbie, then falling to the floor and thrusting her pelvis upwards in what is a dance only she knows. She also coupled this with some girl-on-girl action with another scantily clad psycho, who proceeded to grab pelvic girl’s rump, gyrate on it, and then when pelvic girl was on the floor doing the pelvic thrust dance, this one raised the already short skirt to gyrate over her. God only knows what this was about, but it was disturbing and only slightly entertaining. There was a bit too much of a Sodom and Gomorrah vibe going on here. Lol. Needless to say, in as much as the deejaying was a mess, this sideshow was the best entertainment for the evening.

Rest assured though, I was a mere bystander and spectator and your girl was nowhere in the fracas. Not sure where my passport will take me next but God, let’s hope the single gal adventures are more smurfy, and less Gargamel.

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Steam Room Magic

My own personal steam room - every day steam therapy!

Just got back from a weekend getaway in Miami. Well, besides the out-of-this world thunderstorms, the trip was lovely. I slept on the flight to Miami, and the flight from Miami and everywhere in between. So tired was I - this corporate life!!!

The best part of the trip besides spending time with friends?

Steam room magic!!!

I had booked my hotel around the same time I booked my flight about a month or so ago, and let me tell you, I made this hotel decision not on location, or cute pics but on the shower. The room came with a wonderful sauna type experience which every overworked corporate diva needs when on a much needed weekend away from stress and frustration. I swear, the relaxation that came after each steam bath was beyond description and priceless. I feel like a new woman.

Well until tomorrow.

Thank you to the wonderful staff at Hotel St Augustine, in Miami, not just for the exemplary customer service but also for the foresight in ensuring guests could have such luxuries (necessities??) mere steps away from their beds. Awesome!

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