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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Day Tripping to Rye and Hastings

A warm gingerbread man cookie
in Rye to warm the blood

I am not sure what is going on with English weather but when I opened my eyes yesterday at 5.35am, it felt like the jaws of winter were hovering over my warm Caribbean body. Despite putting on a couple layers last night, I was freezing. It was no surprise that when I got home last night, the heater was on. This after a day out, where despite the ball of light in the blue sky, surrounded by fluffy white clouds, it was cold and terribly windy. Between the biting cold winds eating into my brown chocolatey warmth and whipping my hair into a mad "hot mess" frenzy, it was not fun being outdoors.

Except in some sick, twisted way, it was fun. I took a bit of a day trip out of London, as part of my "Get out of London" tour on a budget, and headed to a town called Rye in East Sussex, followed by a quick stop in Hastings.

Rye was pretty cool. Very English. Loved the cobblestoned streets and the buildings which were steeped in history. Loved the intimacy of the town and the storybook perfection. Very white bread. At first I thought I surely was one of the few young people in the town. Then upon closer inspection, I realised I was the only black person in the place. After an entire morning, and part of the afternoon, and despite my eyes being peeled for blackness, I was still the only visible black person in good ole Rye. lol. Still, Rye had its moments.

Lovely old bar and lodge in Rye, East Sussex

Ypres Tower from its grounds

The most memorable Rye moment was lunch. So we stopped in at a local pub where the menu seemed above average for pub fare and from the outside the place looked decent. I am not a fan of pub food, but I had already made travel buddy switch eating places a couple times - picky and fussy eater I am - so when we opened the door and I saw the interior of this place, I was loathe to ask to move a third time for fear of being labelled picky and fussy. But the first thing that greeted me was the cute, albeit four legged creature, outstretched on a couch in the pub. Now while I love dogs, I don't want them in the place where I am about to eat food. The mere presence of Lassie or whatever her name was, was enough to send me in a panic. lol. But I rallied. The place was pretty run down and that did not endear me to stay either but again...PICKY...FUSSY...flashing through my mind.

The food got there and it looked like mess - the accompanying sauce for my meat bathed everything else on the plate and it was a virtual swimming pool on a plate. But the crowning moment of it all was after my third bite of the drowned pork, I noticed a long, straight strand of hair sitting very impolitely on my meat. Fork down, knife down, appetite lost.

The management were nice enough to refund us our money for my meal after I decided I did not need to venture into trying a replacement dish. I saw the dog trot off behind the waiter, probably about to sink her teeth into some hairy pork loin. Good for her.

Hastings was fun - also cold and windy though. We made a trip up the hill via a funicular railway which gave us fantastic views of the seaside town.

The view of the hill from the base of the funicular railway in Hastings

The view of the seaside town of Hastings from the top of the hill

It was here I had a lovely Italian lunch, minus dogs and minus human hair, and a lovely chocolate gelato sundae for dessert. It was great to escape London and fingers crossed, I can get some work done today on my dissertation which is a nightmare on so many levels.

Have you "liked" me yet on Facebook? No. Like me here. Yaay.

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Splendid, Sunny Good Friday and Sights from My Travels

Stunning flowers in Cardiff, Wales

Happy and Holy Good Friday to my readers and friends. Wishing you all great blessings as we celebrate the lives we have been gifted. And after my staycation, I feel as blessed as ever. I have had many great moments in my life and while I am broke, unemployed, stressed, a bit fat and hopelessly single, I still have much to be grateful for. Great family, great friends who treat me well and look out for me, health and opportunities to go to great places that many people may never see. My friend invited me to spend time in Cardiff, Wales and we also managed to spend some time in Bath, England, which was just an hour away. Both remarkably beautiful and unique in their own ways, and excellent weather on both fronts. After so much stress and upheaval related to school, this trip was so appreciated. I look forward to repaying the favour one day soon.

What was NOT a blessing was having to clean up my bathroom at 3 this morning, after some drunk reveller decided to miss the toilet bowl and piss all over the place. I was NOT PLEASED!!! My cousin had a great time though and enjoyed his birthday party but still...his friends need to use the "drunk tank" downstairs and not the civilised loo. Ugh. Nasty.

I have also been mandated by my date tonight to not wear jeans to dinner. I must say, it is a fair request especially after I told him to dump the frowsy blue jacket he ALWAYS wears. I hate it. I cannot use the "I am a student" excuse anymore, and so will be donning a nice non-denim outfit tonight. I hope his heart can take it.

I will try to during the course of the weekend, put up some more photos on Facebook, where you really should be following me, but here are a few. Next up - the warmth of the beautiful Caribbean!



In honour of sailors - Cardiff, Wales




Cardiff kids made these patchwork quilts - they were very special



An old Welsh farmhouse on the grounds of St Fagan's National Museum

Norman Keep at Cardiff Castle

The Roman Baths in Bath, England

The view of the bridge, Bath

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Trini Forever

Trini [ˈtrɪnɪ]

n pl Trinis

(Social Science / Peoples) Caribbean informal a native or inhabitant of Trinidad; Trinidadian

[a shortened form of Trinidadian]

Yesterday I was talking to a British dude, who told me his parents had retired to Spain because they hated England. No...loathed it. His dad did not associate himself with being British and was all too happy to escape the place. He does not support England's cricket team, even with their recent trouncing of the Aussies, nor does he support their (overrated) football team. He is not a fan of the UK and he does not boast of being English. Now while I am no fan of the weather, which is disgusting at best, to totally disassociate oneself from one's native country is really foreign to me.

Trinidad and Tobago is far from perfect. With rising crime rates and a new breed of ridiculous politicians, I often shake my head at the place. It really saddens me to see how much it has changed from when I was a wee lass. But...I love the place. I love the little mad twin-island republic with all my heart and that will not change any time soon. The RWB runs through my veins. My heart is RWB.

Photo by Donald Michael Chambers
via Getty Images

The spirit of a Trini is contagious. For good or for bad, you cannot really hate a Trini. lol. Some of the most ridiculously amusing people on the planet. God knows they made my daily existence, and the most mundane activities, a unique and fun experience. And being here makes me appreciate so many things that we take for granted back home and which really, in some ways, debunks the longstanding Western constructs of First World and Third World. A lot of the systems here are as bad or worse than the systems back home. God knows, and I can only speak about London, the people here can use some manners. I have met non-Londoners who are awesome and so friendly and warm but goodness...London is another story altogether. I definitely miss the warmth and exuberance of the people back home. Maybe it's the sun because to be brutally honest, the weather here makes me grumpy as well. lol.

And from a country where our PM is not only of Indo-Trinidadian descent but a woman, where we have an Indo-Trini boxing champ, a white swimming champ, and the Prince of Port of Spain, it's a great mix of everybody and everything. Not to mention 33 degree Celsius weather. lol. And better beer and food. Not to mention the best Carnival in the world. Brazilians will say it's Rio, but no Trini will ever agree with that. C'mon.



A small sample of the awesomeness that is Trinidad and Tobago
Top left, and moving clockwise -
Sir VS Naipaul, Nobel Prize winning author;
Richard Thompson, silver medallist, 100m, 2008 Olympic Games;
Dwight Yorke, former Man U and TT striker; 
Janelle 'Penny' Commissiong, first ever black Miss Universe, 1977 - breaking so many barriers of beauty;
Brian Lara, world record holding batsman and one of the best batsmen the cricketing world has ever seen; 
Machel Montano, soca artiste and my fave soca artiste ever (lol) 
Nicki Minaj, rapper - Barbados has Rihanna, we have Nicki.

 
But there are a lot of great things about the UK I imagine. London alone is arguably one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world. It's hard to be bored in London. Why anyone born here would not want to be passionate about their country is beyond my understanding. I can only hold on to my own passion - the passion for the RWB.

So no matter where this journey takes me, my heart will always be in the southern Caribbean, and I will always be a Trini. Proud, beautiful and strong.

Soca - the energetic and fantastic music of Trinidad Carnival.
I can see myself in the party.

I am missing the Carnival (sob)

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