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July 15, 2009 I know that it is fashionable, socially mandatory and politically correct not even to acknowledge that race and ethnicity exist. But if we do sometimes in a moment of inattention speak of Blacks or Puerto Ricans in a judgmental way, we must never consider our own experiences, if they are negative, as significant, as, after all, they are merely anecdotal. Instead, we must consult some enlightened publication, like The New York Times to find out what scholars have concluded, however much expert opinion contradicts common sense. Anyway, I recall some experiences that, despite my bias and bigotry, have helped me form my opinions. It must have been in 1985 that one day I chanced to be in Washington Square , in Greenwich Village, in New York City. Then, as now, I had long blonde hair and wore colorful garb, like biking clothes, or something similar. In the afternoon, it began to rain slightly, so I stepped over to the arch on the Eighth Street side of the park, standing under it to stay dry. Immediately as I appeared under the arch, a group of about 100 Black and Puerto Rican boys between 8 and 14 surrounded me, and started reviling me in the filthiest language imaginable. I could hardly believe that some of the younger ones even knew some of these words. I wouldn’t do it today, but at that time I started answering them in kind. This made them even viler and more odious than before, if that is possible. They were getting angrier and more vicious, and it appeared that they might stampede, in which case they could actually trample and kill me. So I adroitly stepped away and into the busy street, where it was unlikely they’d come, lest the police show up and question them. So I was lucky. Nothing happened. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been dressed flamboyantly, and they were teaching me a well-deserved lesson? Perhaps because of the hardship and suffering that whites have caused Blacks and Puerto Ricans, they were justified, in their childish way, in avenging me thus? Five years later, looking very much the same, I appeared in al-Montazah, a park in Alexandria, Egypt. The first day I went there, on a weekend, when the whole town turns out, I was surrounded several times by groups of 50 to 200 children, both boys and girls. But these were merry, friendly, charming little children who popped all sorts of questions, shook hands and bowed politely, sometimes teased playfully, and involved me in their games. And every time I went to al-Montazah, I would be met by circles of children. They came in classes with their teachers, and often the teachers would have to break up the merrymaking, because it tended to get out of hand. On one occasion, I led a spontaneous parade of about 1000 boys, cheering and shouting, down the streets of Alexandria . The poverty of many Egyptian children is so acute that the average Black or Puerto Rican child could not even imagine such a thing. Some of these families were living on $20, $30 or $50 a month. Egyptians lived under British oppression from the time of the construction of the Suez Canal till the Egyptian Revolution, about 80 years, and could have made this a justification for hating Westerners too. In a word, they've had it much rougher than Blacks and Puerto Ricans. So when people tell me I should feel sorry for Blacks and Puerto Ricans but hate Arabs, their words fall on deaf ears. Please don’t think that this was a single bad experience that I’ve had with Blacks and Puerto Ricans. I’ve been assaulted, mugged and robbed a number of times. I witnessed a Black murder, and was in the immediate vicinity of two other Black murders. ------------ About the author Thomas Keyes: I have written two books: A SOJOURN IN ASIA (non-fiction) and A TALE OF UNG (fiction), neither published so far. I have studied languages for years and traveled extensively on five continents. Visit my website here. Email: udikeyes@yahoo.com Comment on this article here!
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