I’m an alien
“The world citizen is a small leaf, on the giant tree of life”
Suzy Kassem
Have you been called names? I’m not talking about nicknames but labels used to talk to you or about you as ‘the foreigner’.
Over the years we have been referred to as aliens, mzungus, gaijins, aliens and mzungus again and then bules. Interestingly, during five years of living in Dubai, we never heard the Arabic word for foreigner uttered by anyone, which must allude to the multicultural dynamic of the Emirates. In the UAE, about 20% of the population are Emirati, the rest are from outside.
In Zambia we would often hear “mzungu, mzungu, give me money”, especially in our small bush town.
Gaijin was the Japanese word for non-Japanese. It literally translates as gai (外, “outside”) and jin (人, “person”).
My colleague got a gig as a part time Gaijin priest, where he would dress up as a priest and take part in ‘mock weddings’. One needed to be tall, Caucasian and somehow ‘priestly’.
In Australia I experienced a different kind of racial pigeon-holing. We had hired a car to drive down into Kakadu National Park. While in Darwin, I went into a small grocery store to pick up provisions for the journey, along with a bottle of wine. The cashier at the till asked me for ID. I was a little surprised. After all, even on my best days, I definitely look over 21! Anyway, I explained that ID was in my luggage and went out to our hire car to find my passport. My husband was aghast when I told him. “I know, imagine!” I still hadn’t actually realized the full reason why I was being asked for identification. When I returned to the store, a queue had formed, maybe 10 or 11 people deep. People murmered. I apologized to the cashier and others for keeping them waiting. She went on to check my name off against a ‘don’t sell alcohol to these Aboriginals’ list. I reminded her that I was a tourist.
We resumed alien status in Kenya. Gaining Kenyan ID was a lengthy procedure, that involved a lot of talking, queueing and handshaking. You also had to explain your situation over and over, to each different official that you met.
At the ‘Aliens section’, after a lot of waiting around, eventually I was passed to an elderly guy who was in charge of the finger printing. He looked at my application form. “Mm, Madame Maggie. So, you want your finger-prints done?” (well no, not really, but it is an official requirement, right?)
He continued “Which race do you belong to?” At first I was taken a back, but for once in my Heinz 57 existence, a retort came quickly. I beamed back at him and replied: “The human race sir. Asante kabisa” (thank you very much).
He smiled. It was a brownish, toothy grin, probably from munching on Miraa, the addictive herb chewed for its stimulative effect. He stamped my papers and just like that, I became a Kenyan resident.
That episode reminded me of a story shared by a French friend. We met in Nairobi too. Her family were immigrants from Morocco. She told us how one time a man had challenged her about her nationality, repeatedly asking “but where are you from?” She would answer “France”, which he would not accept. In the end, she took it up a notch. When he rudely said to her, “but you don’t look French”, her fantastic response was “well, you don’t look like an idiot, but you sure act like one”.
Our identity and the passport that we hold are distinctly personal things. No one else can tell you who you are. Many dare to try.
Growing up in a very white, very ‘nice’ South West London town, I was always the kid who had this interesting colonial heritage; a mix, the original ‘brown girl in the ring’. Tra la la la la. How I hated that song at school discos. Everyone would point to me. ‘She looks like a sugar in a plum’. Great!
Later, Personnel renamed itself ‘Human Resources’ and HR depts. invented forms to monitor ‘equal opportunity’ across all ‘ethnicities’. Unless you had white skin. Then you could just tick the white box, regardless of which country you came from.
I’m not sure that I ever fitted precisely in one box. I typically ticked ‘other’ on those forms. Never put me in a box!
The place we are born in might be a part of our identity. It’s polite to check first before you make assumptions. Your labels might not apply.
We have lived in many countries. Each and every one of those moves has shaped me, and made me the person that I am today. These are as much a part of my DNA as anything else.
We carry those places with us.
How do you respond when people ask “where are you from?”
Feel free to comment below.
© Maggie M/ Mother City Time
If you got something from reading this, please share it.
I love your writing style Maggie.
I know what you mean. I got it living in India for the first 18 years of my life – the Anglo Indian thing.
Then for 52 years after that in Australia, because I’m not flawlessly white (and don’t drink, smoke and follow the footy and cricket etc also).
When I was 10 years old and in boarding school in Simla, my Mum was working there for a short time, while my Army Dad was in a non family zone in Assam.
My younger brother is quite a few shades fairer than me and back then he had light coloured hair. He was sitting close to me at the dinner table which many of the other borders were sitting at. He was boasting to the others how he was white and I was black. Typical kid stuff, but I wasn’t enjoying it. Mum was supervising around the table and overheard him. She came around to the side we were sitting at and picked up a white plate off the table, which she put next to his arm and said “right, now tell me what is white – your skin or the plate?“ He never ever compared my colour with his ever again!!
No one in this world is totally white, we all have shades of brown to black and we are all related to our original forefathers and mothers, who originated in Africa.
Thank you Doug and thank you for commenting.
I’ve visited India three times and still learning about ‘the Anglo Indian thing’. Not many kids at school knew what that meant. You were either English or Indian. And most kids did not know what colonisation was, so the conversation kind of ended there!
Your boarding school tale is such a typical one. Kids can be so cruel. It’s up to parents, teachers and society to challenge this and shape ideas. Adults have no excuses. With so much information at our fingertips, so many films and books to inform, there should be less racism in our world, not more.
As for skin colour, pigmentation, shades of whatever; People are people. And we all have more similarities than differences.
Thanks again for commenting. Keep enjoying Mother City Time.
I’m quite glad they now have a variety of “labels” in the forms we fill out. I always tick “white – other” for me and my son, because well. I am not British, nor do I ever want to be! I’m really attached to being Norwegian for some reason, I never was until I left though. I have been asked if I feel English too, or more English than Norwegian, and my answer is always – not at all. I am not English in the slightest. I’m from a small rural island community on the Norwegian coast, and that will always be the case for me.
It should be said though, that for as far back as I know, my heritage is only Norwegian. This is changing now as my extended family is getting more diverse, and that’s really nice.
Human race <3
Beautifully penned Maggie. You have a way with words. It’s sad we face all this due to colour. My husband was so shocked when he worked in one company in Dubai, where they had different contracts based on the passport you had. My children are always confused when people ask them where they are from. They say we don’t know what to say, as we are of Indian origin but born in Dubai and now living in UK. I am always proud to be Indian so tell them always to say they are Indian, but they can’t identify with that, as they never lived there. I am always telling them don’t say you are British just because you have a passport but that’s the box they have to tick on forms. Hoping no one has to face an extreme of an end of their existence, due to colour.
Thank you for your response Komal. It’s deeply sad that we face any of this due to colour. We too were shocked when we saw what some companies did in Dubai. We were aware that there were different contracts based on the passports held and also the universities where your degree was from. I guess that’s not unique to Dubai and it happens in many places but it’s wrong. Your children are now ‘Third Culture kids’, which can come with its confusions but also many benefits. Hopefully they will be interested in their Indian heritage, feel connected to Dubai, the city of their birth and where they grew up and now, embrace the best of life in U.K. They may not identify with being Indian, as they never lived there. It’s hard when someone presses you on “where are you from?” Even now, if I answer “Wimbledon” or “London”, there will be some who persist and follow with “but where are you really from?” “Hmmm, St Thomas’ Hospital!” As I said in the Alien piece, so many people want to put you in a box. Your kids will grow and choose the place or places that they identify with as home. I’m still so shocked and saddened watching the footage of George Floyd’s death. No one should ever have to face something like this because of the colour of their skin. Our world needs change.
You are proudly Norwegian, Ida. Sometimes the places we move to will shape us and become part of our identity, and other times not. I know that you miss Norway a lot.
We have met some diverse families here. One close by us, has a Norwegian dad and an Indonesian mum. Their son can speak three languages, Norwegian, Bahasa Indonesian and English.
OK, so, I have not wanted to really comment on any of the statuses I have seen going around, as I’m scared that what I say will be taken the wrong way. I have known you for all of my adult life and most of my teenage years. I would like to think that I haven’t treated you any differently than any of the other friends I have… Maybe I have slipped up without knowing, I’m not really sure. I love you as one of my oldest friends and I want to apologise for anything that us as a white person has made you feel awkward or angry. You are such a beautiful soul with the best smile I have ever seen. I feel privileged to know you xx
Pete, thank you so much for your thoughtful comments. Do not worry that what you say might be taken the wrong way. It so important to have these conversations. Did you see Megan Markle’s speech yesterday? She said “I wanted to say the right thing…the only wrong thing to say, is to say nothing”. I couldn’t agree more. We have to speak up.
We have been friends for a long time Pete. You were always the thoughtful person in our group, while the rest of us were a bit wild. I still remember you always walking us home, Donna, Maria, Megan and me. You would insist, often going out of your way, to ensure that we got home safely, at the end of a night out. I haven’t forgotten that. I don’t recall a time that you ever treated me differently. We just enjoyed being friends. I value our long friendship. And you have never offended me in any way.
But others have. And events around the world are sparking many conversations like these. And that’s a good thing. Because things need to change.
When a guy takes you home to ‘meet the parents’ and the first thing that the dad says about you is “you could have told us she’s coloured”, it’s not O.K
When someone sees you going into a shop, and graffitis ‘Go home Paki’ on the wall, its not O.K
When you’re watching ‘Last Night at the Proms’ and someone laughs at a Seikh guy singing in the choir, because he’s wearing a Union Jack turban, it’s not O.K
When you’re at a pub quiz, and the MC starts making ‘Paki jokes’ and you want the whole room to swallow you up, it’s not O.K
When you are a proud Womble, following your football team to away games all over the country, but you won’t go to a Chelsea or a Millwall game, for fear of racial slurs, it’s not O.K
I could go on. There are many examples. And this all happened in England. What makes some so superior?
Our world is so fractured. The colour of someone’s skin should never be an issue, but for some it is. Not talking about things will solve nothing..
It’s so important to speak up. This is not a time for apathy or complacency. This is about building a better society for all of us, one that future generations can enjoy.
Dear Maggie,
It’s taken me a while to respond to this as, like many, I have been considering and reflecting on my own experiences and behaviour in relation to race – my own and that of others. Some of which I will share with you here. I have come to the conclusion that unfortunately (as ethnicity matters not to me in how I feel about or think of anyone) it has meant that I am guilty of not ever having conversations with my friends about their race related experiences. Fancy not giving my friends and family the opportunity to share and offload about these difficult memories?! So… most importantly I am so very sorry that you have had these horrid and upsetting experiences because of the beautiful colour of your skin! And I am also sorry that in 40 odd years I’ve never asked you about this aspect of your life! I am also addressing this with my sister and have started a conversation about her experiences and those of her children.
I have always been aware of white privilege since a young age and have tried to make sure my children too are aware. My mum (ahead of her time as always!) always made sure of that. She moved into the Jamaican community in Nottinghill when she first came to London in the 1960’s. My “Aunty” Connie taught her the ways of London! I had the benefit of several Jamaican “Aunties” as I was growing up and loved spending time with them in West London.
Then of course my brother in law comes from Grenada. He’d never experienced the cold and had never even owned a coat until he came to the UK… depressingly he’d never experienced racism until he came here either. He used to make me smile with the frank and open way he’d talk about the colour of someone’s skin – purely as a point of description with no politic behind it. He used to say he needed his shades on to look at my kids on the beach as they were so fair skinned! He knows now that the colour of someone’s skin is more loaded a topic here after being selected for one too many “random” work place drugs tests purely because of the colour of his skin. I have also watched my nephews struggle to get Saturday jobs in the same places where my sons were offered jobs with the most perfunctory of interviews. It’s so sad, unnecessary and divisive. Surely now more than ever it is time to remember our core similarities rather than our surface differences? I have experienced prejudice – both as a woman and, more significantly, as the parent of a child’s with an invisible disability but nothing seems quite as insidious and divisive as racism based on the colour of someone’s skin.
Anyway – I waffle on…in answer to your initial question – what do you say when people ask you where you come from? For me that has changed across time…When I was very young I would answer very precisely; “1/4 English, 1/4 Dutch and half Welsh”. It was important to me that people didn’t see me as just English as many of the people I loved and the part of my family I knew were Welsh and I felt very rooted there. As I got older and as a teenager I would respond “from London” as I was proud to have grown up in such a famous city and felt it was ‘cool’ and I was very lucky. If someone asked me the same question today I would answer “from Surrey” as this is where I’ve lived for almost 25 years and where I’ve raised my family. Since I read this post I’ve been reflecting on why this is and have come to the conclusion that because, for me, where I come from is about where I feel at home at that moment – where my heart is if you like. For me, I guess, ethnic heritage doesn’t really play a part of “where I’m from” so I don’t think it does in others either. Hopefully, with all the discussions and protests currently taking place many people will realise that we are all just equal members of the Human Race (I love that by the way!!) regardless of our skin colours and those in authority will begin to properly address the appalling inequalities in society. I live in hope for the day when Human Race is the only box required on any HR form! Lots of love xxxx
Ceri, thanks for taking the time to comment. It can only be a good thing that recent events have resulted in many of us reflecting on our experiences in relation to race. It’s a so called ‘teachable moment’ for all of us, especially the ones in society who say “I’m not racist, but…”. It would be great if there were more people like you, for whom ethnicity and skin colour plays no part in how you view them. You don’t need to apologise for never asking me about any of this. You never asked because you never made skin colour an issue. You are my ‘oldest’ friend Ceri, and thinking back to those dog walking and Trinity Gardens days, all I ever wanted was to blend in. The last thing that a nine year old, brown skinned kid in 70s London wanted, was more race questions! You and I just hung out as friends.
Funny, I think that trend continues into adulthood, the working so hard to be ‘accepted’ as British. George Alagiah explains it well. I was called a coconut once. I didn’t get it at first but after thinking about it I understood. A so-called ‘coconut’ is someone brown on the outside and white on the inside. Yes, people love their labels.
I am appalled at what is going on politically. True leaders will unite, not divide a nation. Brexit has placed further divisions in British society. The last time that we were in the South East, I didn’t go to the pub, choosing instead to stay in alone. When Kieran came back at the end of the night, he said to me that it was probably good that I didn’t go, as there were men in the pub saying things like “they should just send em all back” or “England for the English”. People don’t even hear themselves anymore. And then there’s that moment, the times when you are in the room and someone will say something like that, and then they turn round and say something like “oh but not you, Love”. I have been in pubs cheering on England in football and rugby games, countless times in my life. But I have never worn an England shirt with the St Georges flag on it. I know that in some people’s eyes, I’m not English enough for that. Isn’t that sad?
It’s good that you are aware of what white privilege is and that your mum made sure of that. Notting Hill was a very different place to Wimbledon! How fantastic to be exposed to that as a child. The more that we are exposed to different people in different places, the more we see that people have more similarities than differences.
I remember that your brother in law is from Grenada. I don’t think we ever met him. I’m sorry that his first experience of racism was in U.K. I remember being so shocked when my mother in law shared her experience of being in London in the 60s, with signs reading ‘no blacks, no dogs, no Irish’. I had never known that side to London. There were issues around race in the 70s and 80s but nothing that overt, nothing so blatantly racist. I’m saddened to hear that your brother in law is being subjected to one too many ‘random’ work place drugs tests, because of the colour of his skin. I had hoped that things had got better than that. It clearly hasn’t.
All of the current events must resonate with your nephews. They should not be facing these struggles. It sucks. I hope that that society can re-build to become a better place for them and for future generations. If not, England will remain a country where there are ‘problem places’ and then other ‘pockets of loveliness’, where people can hide behind their Daily Mails.
As you say racial prejudice is insidious. I can begin to understand it more in some of the monocultural, developing world settings that we have found ourselves in. And yet I have experienced less, sometimes no racism in developing countries. But I’m left kind of gob-smacked that racial prejudice is so rife in a developed country. Things should be so much better.
I liked reading your answers to ‘where do you come from? Here’s an interesting thing. I remember you telling me exactly that when we were 8 or 9 years old; “I’m 1/4 English, 1/4 Dutch and half Welsh”. You were proud of your heritage, as everyone should be. We’re lucky to be from London. It is such a cool city. I am a very proud Londoner and I think I feel that even more since I left, if that makes any sense at all.
Yes, we are all just equal members of the Human Race. A good society would be one where all have equal access to opportunities. In spite of all the ‘equal opportunities’ jargon and tick boxing, it’s not actually happening, is it? I too live in hope for the day when Human Race is the only box required on any HR form!
It’s good that you are discussing things with your sister. She will appreciate it. No doubt there will be a lot that has been left unsaid, because you don’t want every Sunday roast to be hijacked with “guess what else happened this week?”. You try hard not to let the prejudice and the struggles you face become everything. But it’s a very real issue.
Thanks again for sharing your views and experience Ceri. Keep enjoying Mother City Time.