Back to Black - the english version

A huge shout out to Adam from Eyes on Brazil for translating this for me. This is my girlfriend's post, Back to Black - beautifully rendered into our native tongue.

"Attending to a request from my boyfriend, I decided to transform into words a little of the feeling that permeates human beings, and in this particular case, myself, when we are exposed to a very obvious reality, however vehemently negated: in spite of being thrust into an era of diversity, where multiculturalism and personal differences should supposedly be celebrated, we still seem rigidly affixed to our stereotypes and 'pre'judice. I say 'pre' in parenthesis to highlight how we are induced to a precursory judgement even when we do not have sufficient elements for such a thing. We mold the information which we are exposed to in accordance with our previous conception and we put aside any possibility for error or for a new reading of the facts. The most surprising thing still is that we never would imagine being the target of this prejudice, even when we are part of a group which is historically discredited: in my case, the black community. Even as such, I find myself terrified in the face of such attitudes, even though it serves as a stimulus for my critical sense and has awakened in me a sarcastic position that until then I did not know I was able to adopt.

It could have just been one more day at work. As I do every Friday, I leave the university heading towards Pituba (a high-class neighborhood of Salvador) where I work in one of the best schools of the city as an English teacher. It was a sunny day, and as the sun in Salvador delivers a certain inertia, I broke away from my normal style of high heels and a nice purse and instead used something a little more relaxing: jeans, a white shirt and a backpack. Sandals and a hippie ribbon in my hair completed my summer look. All in all, I never imagined that they would be the match for the most charged situation I have gone through in a long time. Charged, let alone ridiculous. Ridiculous and funny.

As is my habit, on the way to school, I stopped in front of a traveling street seller to buy some CDs. The vendor didn't have change and needed to go to the nearest store to get some. Meanwhile, I waited patiently in front of the place where he sold his CDs. In this moment, I noticed someone staring at me--a man, apparently 50 years old and of good ancestry, who with no reason kept observing me. I left the CD seller and started heading towards a self-service Japanese restaurant where I normally eat. I left my backpack on one of the tables and upon returning with my meal, to my surprise, I found the 50 year old man at the table right next to mine. From then on, there proceeded a succession of "pardon me's" and attempts at reversals of badly-said words all because of the blessed pre-judgement: upon seeing me sit at the table, a bit terrified, the man couldn't contain himself and kept staring at my backpack at my side, and finally directed the following question at me:

Him: But aren't you the same girl that was at the CD stand?

Me: Yes. It was me. Why? Would you like some information about films?

Him: Yes. I was going to ask what you have in your backpack.

Me: Well, in my backpack I have books and personal items. As far as the films, I can tell you about those that I have already seen and about those I just bought. Would you like to see them?At that moment, the situation turned rather strange. Upon seeing me with some CDs in my hand, he presumed that I was the seller and was surprised to see that I was having lunch in the same restaurant as him. I, in a calm fashion and with a smile on my face, took from the backpack the videos that I had purchased and continued: well, these I bought for personal use, and these for my students. Would you like to know how much I paid?

Already at a loss for words, the man started to say sorry and the more he tried to make little of the situation the more errors he made. In the end, he knew that aside from an English professor and work colleague of some of his personal friends, this supposed "seller of CDs" was a lot more intelligent and well connected than he had imagined. I concluded the conversation with the following phrase:

Certainly, you never thought a "street seller" could do so much, right? Be careful, because next time it might be a judge you are talking to instead of a professor, and then you'll really find yourself in an embarrassing situation.

Interesting to note, at this exact moment in Rio de Janeiro, one of the biggest festivals of black culture worldwide was happening. While we live in a city that without a doubt is recognized as the birthplace of Africa in Brazil, I see a distinctive looking man with a good education, administrator of one of the largest international companies in the country, allow himself to be caught up in prejudice and stereotyping, at the point of verbalizing his unfounded and discriminatory ideas. And what if I was a CD seller? What is the problem in being in that restaurant and sharing the same space? My money and my skin color are given freedom through my profession or my social status? Being black in a land of blacks doesn't always mean being recognized as an individual. The so-called back2black is more of a stepback.