Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Juneteenth

Got a minute? Let's chat.

As you may know, I'm black.

I know, I know. This comes as a bit of surprise. I mean, I look...well...who knows what I look like. I get everything; from Brazilian to Jessica Kimi to Arab.

But for those who know me, being black has been a struggle for me. If pushed came to shove, I usually get obstinate and just not tell people what my ethnic make-up happens to be. I get really annoyed by that question. I get really annoyed that people ask that question after knowing me for all of 2 minutes.

Unfortunately, it is a question I get here whenever I step outside my house. I get is from locals. I get it from Americans. I get it from PCVs. There is just no getting away from it. Everyone is curious [for reasons unknown to me - but I could surmise...].

Interestingly, in Peace Corps, I have become way more black than I ever was in the US. I mean, now I consider myself Black (big b).

So, I spend a lot of time teaching locals about civil rights and Black American history. It is important to me to not only show that even though my first designation is always, "Alaskan," my Black pride is strong.

That's why, on June 19th, I (and several Az friends and PCVs) celebrated Juneteenth! Yeah for emancipation in Texas.

The picture is of the jambalya I made - a no-where-near close proximation to my ma's...same with the fried chicken. Oh well, next attempt will be awesomer.

Friday, June 25, 2010

There Are Times...

As much as I love my job, there are times when I just want to fade into the wood work.

Last week, I blew up (in Azerbaijani) at a teenage boy who thought it would be cute to make faces at me.

This week, I spent 20 minutes explaining the ethnic differences between my site mate Jessica and I to a guy at the bazaar.

Maybe I am losing it.

Now, don't get me wrong. Most times, I love this piece of my job. I love being a living example that not all Americans are blond and blue-eyes, but come on! A few weeks ago, a guy would not let up that I must be an Arab and therefore, a terrorist (yes, I was called a terrorist).

It's just...whew. Sometimes, sometimes I want to just be a girl on the street and not the uncommon looking self-proclaimed American who attracts every sort of attention.

PS The picture is of me making cherry wine.