Reflections on Being White

Sorry in advance that this post is long, but since I haven´t written anything in a while you are obligated to read it if we´re friends.
The city of Moyobamba has about 50,000 people and it is the biggest city around. Of these 50,000 there are currently 5 other white people if I counted right. Everywhere I go I stand out. I also happen to be about 4 or 5 inches taller than almost everybody. This is the most I have ever stood out in my life. In just 4 short weeks, this constant reality has effected me much more profoundly than I had expected it would.
Being one of the only white people here means that I represent the United States and I am represented by the media from the United States. Being from Southern California and having a fiance named Pamela has brought a few harmless comments about Baywatch, but my host brothers also call me Michael Douglass, Michael Jackson, and Michael W. Smith. Most people here have cable, which includes many channels in English with Spanish subtitles as well Spanish channels. They see white people on T.V. every day but rarely in person.
I have had several conversations about U.S. politics and foreign relations with people here. I have actually been surprised to find that they are not as angry about U.S. policies as I had expected. I think there are several reasons for this. 1. In Argentina last summer Argentines were very opinionated about how bad the U.S. has been, but Argentines happen to be very politically opinionated people. 2. Our political leaders haven´t done anything new in a while to really upset the world. 3. Everybody loves Barack Obama. So it has been nice to not be blamed for some war or trade policy that I don´t understand. A good friend of mine actually found himself defending Dick Cheney of all people in Palestine because a man was telling him that Dick Cheney is Jewish.
When I am walking around town or in a smaller city 40 minutes down the road, it's much more unsettling to be white. Kids sometimes laugh and stare, especially if I'm in their school. Drunk men will yell at me or stand too close to me and talk to me or ask for money. There is a man who is always selling sunglasses. Every time I turn him down, but he tries again next time he sees me. He knows I have money. Sometimes people stare when I walk and I don't know what they're thinking. Sometimes I feel like they are trying to intimidate me. I went for a run in the afternoon a few days ago and people yelled "Hello! How are you?" or "Gringo!" as I ran.
Moyobamba is a very safe city and I continue to find that people do not mean me harm even when they yell things like this. However, this is still a first for me. I don't want people to look at me and make assumptions, even if they´re right. They assume that I don't know Spanish very well, they assume that I haven't been here long, they assume that I am Evangelical, they know I have money, and they're pretty sure I'm no good at soccer and can´t dance. I actually have been getting quite angry at times. It is a new kind of anger that I don't think I have ever felt before. I had known that I was privileged before. I knew that being white, male and fairly well off meant that I enjoy privileges which others do not. But I really couldn't imagine what it would actually feel like to not be the majority. I don't claim to understand the lives of minorities in the U.S. now, but I think I am beginning to understand things which I couldn't before. If I have felt angry for feeling judged or that people want me to leave after 4 weeks here, then it must be much more difficult to be actually marginalized for one's whole life. There have been so many times in my life when I have seen somebody different from me and I have felt afraid. I look down and tense up as I try to act casual. I think I've been realizing how aware people are of this. They know when I feel uncomfortable around them. When I notice people look at me differently here it can make me frustrated and angry. However, people do not fear me or marginalize me. I am certainly not powerless. They laugh at me or stare at me, but they also include me in their lives and accept me. While I have surprised myself with my frustration and even anger at times, I believe that this is very good for me in the long run. It´s an important part of the journey, even if it´s painful. And being accepted despite being so different has been one of the most rewarding things I could ask for.

I will end this post with 2 quotes from Henri Nouwen which my professor sent us as encouragement.

“One of the most rewarding aspects of living in a strange land is the experience of being loved not for what we can do, but for who we are. When we become aware that our stuttering, failing, vulnerable selves are loved even when we hardly progress, we can let go of our compulsion to prove ourselves and be free to live with others in a fellowship of the weak. This psychological perspective on culture shock can open us for us a new understanding of God’s grace and our vocation to live graceful lives. In the presence of God, we are totally naked, broken, sinful, and dependent, and we realize that we can do nothing, absolutely nothing, without him. When we are willing to confess our true condition, God will embrace us with His love, a love so deep, intimate, and strong that it enables us to make all things new. I am convinced that, for Christians, culture shock can be an opportunity not only for psychological healing but also for conversion.” (Nouwen, Gracias, 17).

“So, maybe the question is not how to cope better, but how slowly to allow my unchanging character to become a way of humility and surrender to God. As I recognize my fears of being left alone and my desire for a sense of belonging, I may gradually give up my attempts to fill my loneliness and be ready to recognize with my heart that God is Emmanuel, ‘God-with-us,’ and that I belong to Him before anything or anyone else. And so a new vision of maturity may emerge; not a vision in which I am more and more able to deal with my own pains, but in which I am more willing to let my Lord deal with them. After all, maturation in a spiritual sense is a growing willingness to stretch out my arms, to have a belt put around me, and to be led where I would rather not go” (Gracias, 53).

-Michael