It's Still Relevant

THEME FOR ENGLISH B

By Langston Hughes

The instructor said,

Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you---
Then, it will be true.

I wonder if it's that simple?
I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.
I went to school there, then Durham, then here
to this college on the hill above Harlem.
I am the only colored student in my class.
The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem
through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,
Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,
the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator
up to my room, sit down, and write this page:

It's not easy to know what is true for you or me
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what
I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me---we two---you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear New York too.) Me---who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records---Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn't make me NOT like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white---
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That's American.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that's true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me---
although you're older---and white---
and somewhat more free.

This is my page for English B.

1951

Avaylable to You

Slow down and appreciate the simplicity of music. Watch:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=neD5tZlDCs4

Even on a crappy day, SMILE :)

Ever have one of days where you're like, "What was the point of today?" Or just a seemingly crappy day/moment in general? I felt like that at a point today, and then I heard this song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_FZ-HIcygI

Enjoy :)

Black Women Rock!

Since I've been in the BA, I've had times... many times, actually, when I've felt like I've missed out on some stuff going on back in CoMo (that's Columbia, Missouri) on MU's campus. One of the things that I missed was a tribute to Black women... This is, after all National Women's History Month. So, in honor of Black women, a friend of mine put on this tribute called Black Women Rock!, inspired by Black Entertainment Television's (BET) Black Girls Rock!

As a reflection of the network's rendition, there was a segment of the University's tribute called 4 Women. This jazz song was written by a women named Nina Simone, who wrote it to display three different lives, sufferings, and characteristics of Black women.

I watched both renditions and got chills. You probably will too.

Ok, enough of my jabber... CHECK IT OUT!!!

BET's: http://www.bet.com/video/1428564 (also seen in the second video in the video bar to the left)

AND

Mizzou's: http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1822595055136&comments

Them Good Air Boys...

So, I can't make this blog without dedicating at least one post to bold, ever-daring, sometimes dashing, if-I-think-you-look-good-I-will-definitely-let-you-know men of Buenos Aires.

The men of Buenos Aires (good airs) whistle, whisper, grunt, smile, and blow kisses in approval of a woman's appearance. And stare. Oh yes, they stare. Perhaps better than anyone I've known... or worse, depending on how you look at it. They will shamelessly look you down until they pass you up. I don't turn around, so they may even turn around when they pass you and keep staring. I can't tell you how many times I've been the object of glances and stares here. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not trying brag or make any inclinations that I'm so fine every guy in BA wants to holla. In fact, it could very well be the fact that many Argentinians don't see a black person, let alone a black woman (with natural hair I might add) everyday. I figure this to be perhaps more true for the simple fact that, for the first month, I began to grow somewhat accustomed to the stares of local men (mostly), women and children.

I vividly remember one little girl walking in front of me as I was returning to my apartment from the store. She kept whispering something to another little girl (her sister, perhaps?). Eventually, she flat out turned around and pointed at me. I just kind of looked and slightly smiled. Ahh... so this must be how a giant feels. I have to shake the thoughts of people seeing me as some freak show. It's just more like an exotic person from a foreign land, I suppose. Somehow that seems better.

Anyway, back to the men. So, I've noticed that I get more attention from older gentlemen here than the one's near my age. Wait, that's actually kind of true in the States, too... Ok, so maybe that part's more me than the country. But the older they are, I find the more gentlemen-like they are. The middle-aged ones who hang out on stoops in front of smoothly-paved sidewalks, or stick their heads out of cab windows, or breathe "hermosa" (beautiful) or some other Spanish word I may or may not catch as they walk past, are obviously more blunt. Several times I would walk past some gentlemen and would hear them say "Adios" to me.

Um... what? I was so confused. Why are they saying goodbye? Shouldn't they be saying hello? Then one day (like 2 weeks later), it hit me. "Adios" doesn't just mean "goodbye." It literally means "A Dios" or "go with God." So, essentially, my thought is that they were giving and exclaim of ... amazement perhaps? If not, then leave me in my ignorance. haha Yes, that's right. I'll take this one, made up thought of flattery-- if that's what it is... don't judge me.

But I've been cooed at, had kisses blown at me, STARED at (of course), and had random men come up to me on the street or park and talk to me. I don't mind the latter. It's great Spanish practice. Most of the men are older. One guy stopped me on the street when I got lost trying to find my way to China Town for the Chinese New Year.

"Do you have time to talk," he asked me in Spanish.
"Sure... about what?" I replied.
"Oh, anything."

Um... ok. haha So I stood there on an intersection talking to this nice random guy in Spanish for about 15 minutes. As the conversation went on, though, he started getting closer and closer to me.

Well, I think that's enough convo. I should be going now.

I politely said goodbye and went on my way.

Another time there was an older man who sat next to me in the mall and another, Cercilo, who sat next to me on a park bench. On ALL three occasions, each man asked me if I had a boyfriend and/or recommended I get one... to practice my Spanish of course.

Yeah... ok, kind sir. If it happens, fine. If not, I'll manage.

Oh those Good Ol' Air men.

Yes, ignorance transends cultures, but thank You, God, that wisdom and love do too... AND love covers all wrongs.

So, as I'm fully aware, this month is Black History Month. Twenty-eight days of remembering how Blacks have made contributions to the world. While this is a time for many, including myself, to celebrate Black accomplishments, not everyone shares in its joys.

Last year, at the University of Missouri, there was an incident during this month of celebration, that was meant to mock the rich Black American culture. A group of intoxicated white, male fellow MU students decided to scatter cotton balls around the entrance of the Black Culture Center. For those of you who do see the offense in this, using COTTON balls, specifically, is a reference to slavery times when Blacks were forced to pick cotton for the wealth of slave owners. It's from this fact during slavery, that some have developed the derrogatory reference to Blacks as "cotton pickers." So, for these students to put cotton down in front of the Black Culture Center, perhaps with the hope that the Black students who go there will be forced to pick up the cotton ("living up" to the image, so to speak), it was very offensive, not just to the Black students in the community, but to all those who support the community and diversity. These offenders ended up getting off with a vandalism charge. That was less than a year ago. And then this past weekend...

Saturday, February 11 I received notification (first via Facebook and then many hours later from the school's dean) that another racially-driven act of vandalism occurred. This time, it was a bit more vulgar. Someone had spray-painted something to the effect of "F@#$ N*33#r's Month" on the side of one of the dorm halls. It was frustrating to hear this had happened AGAIN. Reading this occurrence was just another rude reminder of the what I experience everyday; the ignorance of so many about what it means to love all people.

I didn't dwell on the event, though. I refuse to let such ignorance frustrate me to the point where I exhaust my energy from being offended. Then something happened this week that I definitely didn't expect, even from the "whitest country in Latin America" (this is how some Argentinians proudly identify themselves... well, according to my research). What happened this week was so astonishing, that I had to take a picture of it.

It was Valentine's Day. February 14th. El Día de los Amorados. The day of lovers. Anna's boyfriend wanted to get her a bouquet of her favorite flowers (lilies) even though he couldn't be in the country to do so. So, I helped out by going out to a floral shop to buy them and have them ready for her in our apartment. Well, on my quest to get the lilies, I came across some graffitii. Nothing will really strange about it being grafitii. I mean, that's something I see all the time here in the big city. But this one was different than what I've seen here. Errily enough, the words on the wall said, IN ENGLISH, in essence the SAME THING as that on campus (minus the part about month).

I couldn't believe my eyes. There, in broad day light, on the day of love, was the word that holds one of the darkest displays and connotations of hate. Honestly, my heart sunk a little. I took a picture (which I later deleted because I couldn't stand to look at it), turned around, and walked the other direction.

I thank God that I'm able to bounce back from seeing such displays of hate. In all honestly, I've become somewhat callous to it. When you experience some form of hate everyday, you learn how to deal with it. Not that it doesn't bother me, but I've learned the importance of not allowing it to consume me. If I allow that to happen, then I wouldn't be strong enough to make an effort of resistance and change.

After seeing the vandalism, it became real to me. Ignorance transcends cultures, unfortunately. Whether in North America or South America. Whether you ended the African slave trade first or last. Ignorance still exists. Hate still exists. But I firmly believe that light can overcome darkness and love covers all sins. Maybe, while I'm here, or where ever I go, I can be a light. I'm only one, but that's all you need, right?

Breathe

My second week in Argentina is almost done! This week went by WAY fast. Sometimes, though, I feel like with every struggle, that I've been here for so much longer. I noticed yesterday morning that since my arrival, I'd been waking up just about every morning with anxiety. For what, I don't know. Most days, all I have to do is go to Spanish class for 2 hours. I think it just has to do with me adjusting to the city, not knowing a lot about the city (i.e. transportation and locations), having some troubles with the language, anticipation for my internship, and even greater a reason, not knowing what the future holds.

Finally, yesterday I just had to stop my self and say, "Bianca, you're being rediculous. There's no reason why you need to be scared or anxious for anything. God's got you." So, I said a prayer, did some Bible study, worked out, and got ready for the day. I have to just keep reminding myself that everything's going to be ok. I'm going to look back on this trip and wonder why was I a trip?

I now declare, I, Bianca Aaron, will enjoy my time here in Buenos Aires, Argentina, be grateful for every moment, and make the most out of every new and, perhaps at times even monotonous experience. I refuse to let fear and anxiety run my life and rob me of my joy. For God has not given me a spirit of fear, but one of power and of love and of a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7)!

There. Now I can live.

Things looking up...

So... I forgot to post this a long time ago. MY BAD!

January 20, 2011

Good news... Today is the first full day we've had our Internet and TV in our apartment. Turns out, the problem wasn't with the actual WiFi antenna nor the television. The power serge was out. Praise God, 'cause I definitely didn't want to pay for a new, well, EVERYTHING.

The new day brought new... adventures. (Apparently, when things go wrong or there are inconveniences or more problems, my fellow travelers call it an "adventure." I wouldn't mind using that...)

The first "adventure" of the day happened on our way to class. Everyday this week, all of us (meaning all of us Mizzou students on the trip) have been taking the city buses to get to class. Anna and I usually walk a long ways to catch the bus with some of the others, so this time, we decided to take a chance and learn a different bus route to class from a stop much closer to our apartment.

One thing about Argentine transportation is if you don't know what you're doing, you REALLY don't know. It can be quite confusing even without the language barrier, but with that piled on... oh, mama.

So, we ended up catching the right bus (well, the number anyway), but on the wrong side of the road. This meant, we were going the complete OPPOSITE direction of the school. Great. Too bad we didn't figure this out until we were about 20-25 minutes into the route. We ended up arriving to class a half an hour late. I'd normally stress out about that, but for some reason, I wasn't.

That's one thing I've noticed since being here. It's almost as if as soon as I arrived here, small problems don't bother me. Even some big one's. With all the things that have gone wrong this week, I've been pretty chill about it. I don't know, but maybe I'm just in the Latin mindset.... tranquilo... ("relax"). It's a cultural thing (mainly outside the States, where people are high-strung on time restraints and whatnot), to just go with the flow. It's a good thing too, because our professor just laughed at us jokingly. He's much more gracious and understanding than some other professors I've had in the past.

I'm usually a Type A person, so it will be interesting to see how living in this Type B world will be...

Muchos problemas, pero todo estará bien :)

Today is only my fourth day in Buenos Aires, and I feel as if I’ve already been here for a really long time. I try to take it a day at a time, but I keep finding myself counting down the days until I get back home. I didn’t think I’d miss home this much. I didn’t think I’d miss America this much! The language barrier is much harder than I expected and I find myself confused often. I feel so clueless and incompetent when I try talking to locals. It’s almost paralyzing. So much has happened just within the last couple of days, much of which has been not so great.

Yesterday morning it was raining, but not too hard. After working out I felt really hot, so I thought I’d open the window for a while to let some of the cool air in. At that point, it was just a drizzle. About 20 minutes later, I heard Anna’s panicking voice saying the television cables and the WiFi antenna were wet, which meant neither the television nor the WiFi would work.

I didn’t even really think about the rain picking up or the fact that our cables were by the window. I made sure to stay calm and not look at it too much as a tragedy. I kept reassuring her that everything would be alright and that it would get fixed. I don’t think it helped too much at that moment, nor did it later that night when it still didn’t work. We spoke with Roberto, our “fix-it” man. However, I don’t know if it was the language barrier or what, but he couldn’t help us. Perhaps Roberto sees the situation as somewhat of a comedy, especially since the previous days’ episode.

Just the day before, we had trouble with getting our door open. In other words, we were LOCKED IN OUR OWN APARTMENT. Personally, I thought the whole thing was funny, but I restrained my laughter when I saw how upset Anna was about it. Turns out, Anna was turning the locks the wrong way. We all had a big laugh when we finally figured it out.

So, I think Roberto may look at us as kind of these silly, clueless, American girls. It’s okay, though. For some reason, I get the feeling that we’ll get to know Roberto very well in the next few months…

We still haven’t gotten our Internet fixed. So until then, I’ll either have to go other places, or pick up some weak one from the window.

You think I look like a what?

When I first signed up to study and live abroad in Buenos Aires, I didn't know what to expect, but I had nothing but positive expectations. This would be my first adventure for this long outside the country. I did go to Guangzhou, China for a few weeks, but I just knew this trip to Latin America would be different on so many levels.

As the time to depart the wintery white blanketed grounds of Minnesota for the sun-studded soils of BA, I began to feel overwhelmed with anxiety. It started to sink in: I'M GOING TO A FOREIGN LAND. So many things crossed my mind, like how am I going to survive??? Food? Money? Transportation? Oh, yeah, and a little thing called LANGUAGE. Now, I DO know Spanish. I've been studying if for nearly seven years now. But this is different. I'm going to be completely out of my element. I honestly hardly know how to live on my own in small town Columbia, Missouri. Now I'll be in one of the biggest cities in the world where pretty much everyone speaks Spanish. And not just any kind of Spanish-- Spanish with an Italian accent. My heart fluttered under the weight of these thoughts. But after talking and praying with a great friend, I put things into perspective, I tried to follow what I'd learned in Sunday school many years ago, and cast my cares on the Lord. That got me through to my flight arrival to Houston, Texas.

It wasn't until I was waiting to board the flight to Argentina, sitting there in the passenger-flooded terminal, that I realized something I knew, but blocked out of my mine: unlike most Latin American countries, Argentina doesn't have a large population of Black people. Crap. I started to wonder: How are the people of BA going to receive me? A Black American woman from Mid-West USA, who's deeply rooted in her culture and Protestant faith. "Well, there's now turning back now," I thought. "I'll just see when I get there."

The day we arrived, my roommate, Anna, and I decided to take a look around the neighborhood after getting settled in. We found a grocery store (un supermercardo) to pick up a few things. On our short travel, we couldn't help, but notice that people (specifically men) kept staring at us. I had one guy stare me down until he passed me up. At first, I thought maybe they just don't see Black people everyday (the same thing happened in China). But then Anna mentioned she noticed it and thought it was just because people could tell we were Americans. Who knows?

I was still curious about the whole staring thing that night, so I did the "credible" thing and searched on Google. I came across a couple of blogs, both of which indicated negative perspectives of Black women in Argentina. One of them said many people in Argentina assume black women to be Brazilian, and not just that, Brazilian PROSTITUTES. That definitely doesn’t fit my description. And it doesn’t help that I have braids at the moment, perhaps making me look even more Brazilian. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I have absolutely nothing against the beautiful people of Brazil. What I do have a problem with is people making generalizations and then acting upon them. Then I thought back to my flight here.

I sat next to an older Argentinian man. He was very nice and helped me practice my Spanish. As the hours drew on, things became a bit awkward, though. At one point, he tried to lay his head on my shoulder while he was "sleeping." I'm pretty sure he was at least somewhat conscious, though. I could see him glance at me from the corner of my eye before making the move. (Yes, I'm nosey.) Another time, toward the end of the flight, I made a move to look out the window and saw him staring up at me from his resting position. I don't know if I just caught him at an awkward moment in between sleeping and waking up, but it was a bit strange. He was really nice and helpful, but I couldn't help but think about such episodes when reading the blogs. Perhaps I'm over-thinking it. Maybe he was just a nice, welcoming, Argentinian man looking to show kindness to a sista from up north.

In contrast to the blogs, I know several Black women who came to live in Buenos Aires as well, and they gave me positive feedback. So, it’s important that I give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I wouldn’t want to fall into the trap of generalized preconceptions. It’s only been a couple of days since I’ve been here, so I’ll have plenty of time to observe over the next three or so months.