Hello All,
So I have been meaning to get my thoughts on paper about being an African-American (better yet a Black American) student in a country where I am no longer the minority—which does not translate to being the privileged power group. I feel that my experiences here in South Africa vary greatly from my peers, in part because of my racial identity. In the reflection below, I will attempt to describe my experiences here. In no way does this entry attempt to reflect all black-American student perspectives in South Africa, however I do not think that what I have experienced here is hyper-individualized either. Anyway, I would definitely appreciate comments to this post in particular. I hope to maybe re-work it into essay form….for what I am not exactly sure yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
“Sometimes it’s harder for the African-American students,”
Standing in front of a group of newly arrived students, the Academic Director of the SIT South Africa study abroad program attempted to prepare us for the cultural challenges that lay ahead in our semester abroad in South Africa. I arrived knowing that I would be challenged as a student from America, indeed which was the only dimension covered in my study abroad preparatory course. Furthermore, I thought: how different could it actually be? I was black going to a nation where people who looked like me would be in the majority. If anything, I could just blend in…right? “Sometimes it’s harder for the African-American students,” our Academic Director informed us. As the semester has progressed, I have understood what he meant.
Why did you choose South Africa? We would all ask each other to make conversation. My answer was a complicated one. I decided to come for several reasons: (1) I wanted to step foot on some part of Africa, as it is the cradle of humanity, (2) I saw incredible parallels between the development of South Africa and the United States, in particular the fight for human right and equality embodied in both the anti-apartheid and civil rights movements respectively, (3) South Africa seemed to be a bit more developed than other parts of Africa, which meant that I would not have to forfeit completely the western comforts that I have always been used to.
“Blending in,” has served as a double edged sword for me. On one hand, I am not readily identified as a foreigner. This means that I could be carrying R1, 000 in my back pocket and no one would even consider messing with me. Fortunately no one has attempted to assault me, even after constant warnings that South Africa is such a dangerous area. I have walked around in my host township at all hours of the night with no concerns. This could also be attributed to my large stature and male gender; however I am persuaded that the mere fact that I can “blend” into the fabric similarly to a chameleon has helped in this respect.
The fact that I don’t look like a foreigner has been more of an obstacle than anything else. More often than the reader may believe, I have walked into establishments and have immediately been addressed in Zulu (one of the 11 official languages of South Africa spoken by the Zulu people, an indigenous ethnic group). Only when I say in my classic southern American accent “Huh?” do they realize I am not Zulu. Moreover, at a home stay in Umtwalume, a rural town outside of Durban, another white student and I visited a Shabeen (an informal establishment similar to a bar located in a township) with our homestay brother. Almost immediately the other student was flocked with interested parties. He was obviously the only person in the establishment with white skin, which made him an interesting oddity in its own rite (also, white South Africans would not dare venture into a township, so my counterpart must have been American). As many South Africans who I have encountered perceive Americans as being rich, rubbing elbows with celebrities, my peer was quite the highlight at the shebeen. I however, sat in the background “blending in” while drinking my beer.
In no way am I upset at the occurrence at this shebeen. In fact it is not the first time that something like that has happened. In fact, I was informed by our Academic Director that some homestay mamas would even request not to receive African American students because they do not posses the visual external markers of an American. That perceptible difference, and the homestay families’ association with said obvious foreigner is a form of cultural capital. It brings prestige to homestay host families. Therefore, the role of homestay/host family is such a coveted role to play in the SIT program. Luckily my homestay mama has been very accepting of me. In fact, I would venture further to say that my racial background has allowed her to be more candid when describing cultural norms and race relations in South Africa. I cannot help, but feel excluded sometimes in situations like the one mentioned above. As a semi-introvert in novel situations, I am not one to initiate and establish social interactions. This made my acclamation to Zulu South African culture a bit more difficult.
Even as I am mistaken as Zulu, I have also had a bit of confusion about my actual race. In a minibus taxi, on the way back from the local mall, I struck up a conversation with a local Zulu man. I asked him what a man was arguing about in the taxi (as I did not even know Zulu at this point in my trip). At the end of our conversation as I was getting out of the taxi, he asked “Are you Indian or colored?” Now it is a little understandable that the low visibility at night may have impeded on his ability to make out my actual race. I responded “No sir, I’m a black American.” My homestay mama even thought I was colored asking “Is your grandmother white?” To the best of my knowledge all of my grandparents were black. Another South African told me, I would pass the “pencil test,” meaning I would be classified as “colored.” I do not doubt that I may have a relatively recent white ancestor, as many black Americans do. Systematic rape and miscegenation of black slaves has created an entire class of mulattos (or in South African terminology, “coloreds”). I do not, however, identify as such, particularly because all of my known family also identify themselves as “black.” One must realize, however, that there is absolutely no biological basis for what we consider “race.” The entire concept is social constructed, and maintains only social value. The contestation over my “race” is simple proof of that idea.
The experiences to this point have described my interactions with black (primarily Zulu) South Africans, but I have also had some experiences with white South Africans. Conceptually, I understand that that Apartheid was on its last leg more than 20 years ago, yet I have never felt entirely comfortable in majority white environments here. As the following experience points out, regardless of how long ago equality was theoretically reached, and as in the US, racism is still very much alive and well. A group of students decided to go to Warner Beach for a weekend. Upon our arrival, the African-American students immediately noticed the dirth of black Africans in the community. Another black student and I walked to a restaurant take out counter to get lunch. Upon our arrival we were not greeted. An Afrikaner man walked in behind us, he was immediately greeted and given one of the two menus that my friend and I were looking at. Even more to my surprise, he was served before we even had a chance to order. Now, usually I do not patronize establishments that do not respect me as a person; however, my friend was a vegetarian and this was the only establishment which suited her tastes, so concessions had to be made. What I do find interesting is that there is a distinction made between black Americans and black South Africans. Black Americans are perceived to be “better” here. We (African American students) have even been told by the staff of our study abroad program to champion our “American-ness” in order to be respectfully treated, particularly in restaurant establishments.
Although it is extremely difficult to live in any culture you are not used to, racial difference adds a different perspective to the entire experience. The aforementioned episodes have been learning experiences themselves…in the way that a society defines race, cultural norms, and discrimination. I do know that my experiences here have given me valuable life lessons. Although, in some respects have not been the same or even comparable to my peers, I would not have changed for the world. I have learned to value both the good with the bad, and to reflect critically upon everything. On the bright side, I will have SO many stories once I am back in the United States!
Anyway, that’s my reflection. Please let me know what you think!
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