At the risk of self-indulgent overdramatization, I spend time every day thinking about what I've come to categorize as "racialized otherness." Any non-black person (and for all I know, even non-African blacks) living in Ouidah will be confronted with this dynamic.
That is, every day when going about their business, non-blacks in Ouidah are the recipients of the statement, "yovo" ("whitey"). In my lived experience, this term is applied equally to Asians, Europeans, Latin Americans, Anglos, mestizos, and mulattos (amusing sidenote: the term "Chinois"--"Chinese"--is also similarly used).
The term is usually delivered in a schoolyard, sing-song by bouncy children, such as those pictured:
"Yovo, yovo.
Bon soir.
Ça va bién.
Merci."
The chant is ubiquitous and sung even by toddlers barely able to speak or walk. Occasionally, an adult will yell "yovo," from across the road. It's usually accompanied by waving hello and smiling, and if answered with a greeting, the interaction is typically a friendly one.
What to make of this experience? People react differently.
Some people find it offensive, annoying, rude, and something to be actively discouraged. Others claim it is an innocent greeting that is merely descriptive; nothing to provoke an angry reaction.
I can't say I'm angered by the yovo chant, but neither am I sanguine about its implications. At minimum, it serves to demarcate "us" and "them," which I suppose happens in every social context, though with varying levels of clarity and intensity. It reinscribes a gap day after day that makes living here a little less satisfying. My preferred form of travel is, as the ethnographers say, "going native." That is simply an impossibility.
It has been a useful exercise to try to imagine this scenario from the sender's point of view. Ouidah, population 60,000, is surprisingly isolated and homogeneous, despite its comparative prosperity and proximity to densely populated Cotonou. It has no cinema or newspapers. There is very little advertising or marketing (a breath of fresh air to be honest). There are two local radio stations, though media use seems scant. Seeing a non-black person is simply a break in the monotony of everyday life.
From the sender's point of view, breaking up daily monotony is a positive. The child chanting "yovo" seems to derive pleasure from both the chant and the returned salutation. It doesn't take much to provoke a dance, smiles, and conversations from the children and adults who call out "yovo." The racialized gap is easy to bridge. And who can remain angry at such adorable taunting?
While I wish I could move about Ouidah in an invisible fashion, I don't despair at standing out. I put myself in the shoes of Brad Pitt, Madonna, and Kobe and try to treat my public with the affection and warmth that I usually feel coming from them.
Monsieur Rob: here's another take on your "racialized otherness": In Colombia, it is very common to include in daily discourse statements that refer point blank to some physical characteristic of the person you are talking with or about. Thus, daily conversation is peppered with "El Gordo said . . ." or "La Chata came by . . ." or "Hey Negro come dancing with us tonight" . . . These references to physical traits are completely devoid of any judgement; they only denote that you acknowledge what you see in the other one, not if you like it or not, or if it's good or bad. I never understood too well the American (especially among White Americans) obsession to erase all references to physical appearance from daily conversation. It's like you are talking to an other and seeing them but pretending that you don't see them.
ReplyDeleteWhen my friend Howard, a ordinary-looking guy from Iowa, moved to a small town in Colombia, they played on his first name and started calling him "The Blue-Eyed Jaguar of the North." He said that everyone should stand out and feel like an exotic once in their lives.
ReplyDeleteLove the photos of the kids!