I somehow got on this dining memory streak and because the writing muse has totally gone on a long vacation deep into the heart of some black hole, I will have to go with whatever memory string hangs loose in front of me and create a weave of a story from that. Wow. Enough mixed metaphors for you?
Lets go back to Guam for this dining memory. I was in my early twenties and full of career-minded visions. I was working in a vocational school for young adults from the islands and a conference or meeting or something resulted in my trip to Guam. I was living on a small island and flew out with one of the other teachers...a young Micronesian man. I cannot even remember what he taught. He was handsome and friendly and intelligent...looked a little like Benjamin Bratt except he was shorter. I was happily and newly married, so our travel together was strictly professional. We were staying at the same hotel and although he was attending a different meeting that day, we decided to have dinner together at the end of the day. As I look back on this it was probably my idea and he felt guilty letting me dine alone and accepted.
I do not remember how we selected the restaurant or even if we got there in a rental car. I remember that I was on some normal school girl planet and looked forward to eating a nice meal at the end of the day without another stray thought in my brain. As we entered the restaurant, I noticed subconsciously that my dining companion was acting a little odd. I could not put my finger on it, but I sensed something out of sync as we were shown to our table. He seemed ill at ease, and I, being the sophisticated married worldly gal, was concentrating on making small talk and smiling and trying to get him to relax. I thought, naively and egotistically, that he was just impressed with dining with an attractive woman his age, and concerned he didn't do anything stupid. I knew that many of these 'local' teachers probably did not get to eat out often.
The meal moved on, but there was still an oddness about the stiffness of his behavior. Mid-way he accidentally knocked a piece of silverware onto the floor. I winced, hoping it would not mortify him even more, because this sort of thing could happen to anyone. But, as he leaned over to pick it up I noticed two young men at a nearby table looking our way and chuckling with what appeared to be derision. Instantly, little miss attractive, got her brain in gear and a casual look around the restaurant revealed several couples and others (about 25%) staring at us with what was clearly rude condescension and/or reproach barely hidden. It was the first but not the last time I would be exposed to racism in all its subtle ugliness. But it was one of the few times I would find the derision directed at me and someone I was with.
We finished our meal and returned to our rooms. I did not talk about it. I think I was too young to try an intelligent conversation and I am thinking he was more than relieved for me to forget the whole incident.
I rarely have to keep my radar up as a middle class "whitie." I think it must be a real energy drain to always be compelled to have your radar running.
Mmmm. I've been pretty aware of "differences" in a positive way most of my life, but I'm not sure it ever can be *enough.* It is peculiar to be in the "minority" group for those of us who usually are in the comfort of the majority. One such similar experience taught me a great deal about it, and raised my awareness immeasurably.
ReplyDeleteIt is an energy drain to do something that isn't your natural behavior.
ReplyDeleteI think the summer just gets our brains bored of writing for some unknown reason...
ReplyDeleteA shame to have to even be aware of racist populations. I hear most of southEast Asia is dead against mixed race people.
My Uncle had adopted several kids who had been abandoned by parents because of being born mixed race over there.
The people must've thought you were a mixed couple, n would shun your children out of an education, or any posibility of employment...
"It's everywhere! It's everywhere!" The cure is in healing one grain of sand at a time.
ReplyDeleteOh my good god! I would never have thought that was the issue causing him distress. I doubt that much has changed there, either. Unfortunate.
ReplyDeleteIt would have been interesting to know how the chat afterwards might have gone.. and how he looks back on that memory.
ReplyDeleteWe have such a long way to go.
ReplyDeleteI have never experienced anything like that (never been in a position to) and I hope I never have to. I hate for anyone to be uncomfortable!
ReplyDeletewere you the odd one or was your companion?
ReplyDeleteI have not met with colour prejudice, being white, but I have met with a kind of national racism here in the UK. It was very difficult to deal with as a young woman.
Friko, it was the 25% that were the odd ones, I am thinking.
ReplyDeleteWeird experience. I felt that the first time I visited the US and went into a Mexican pizzeria in California. I couldn't figure out what the problem was but I realised that everyone was a different race from me.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a middle aged woman I met a charming black man who told me that when traveling with his family he always went into the restaurant or motel office first to see the kind of reception he would get.
ReplyDeleteI was shocked to know that racism still existed to that degree after the Civil Rights movement. Sadly, not much has changed in some parts of the country.
I was completely wrong-footed, reading that: I thought it was going to be a gay establishment. The post would have worked as well, I guess.
ReplyDeleteNow I'm thinking about dining experiences, especially trying to remember where that cheap Boston steak house my sister and I loved is, and thinking about almost boyfriends of a different race.
ReplyDeleteEarlier in my life, yes, my radar was constantly running. Our country and the media kept it running. And, my parents taught me to keep it running. They did not want me to trust the majority - white people.
ReplyDeleteNow, it's turned off. Life is short. People are people.
Still, as someone born in segregated 1957, the radar tool is still available to be pulled out in a moment's notice. Happy to say that my tween and teen children don't seem to have one. Hope it stays that way.
Thought provoking post.