Afro Town: A Black Exhibit in Uruguay, South America

When many think of Latin-American countries containing members of the African diaspora, countries like Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic immediately come to mind, but only a few would think of Uruguay in South America.

However, freelance photographer Mayra Da Silva is working on a project to let the world and fellow Uruguayans know, “we black folks (in Uruguay) are here!”

Mayra Da Silva who grew up in an interracial family consisting of a black father and a white mother is a freelance photographer as well as secretary of communications in a government office. 

She is developing a photographic exhibition to be produced in various areas of Montevideo, the nation's capital, to reflect her country's black experience called "Afrotown-Montevideo.” This exhibition will have an inspiration in Afro-Uruguayan projects with input from several black Uruguayan organizations. 

It will integrate identity and aesthetic elements to promote its own Black is Beautiful movement, and strive to break stereotypes of beauty imposed by a society that promotes only a model of Eurocentric beauty in addition to fighting the exclusion and stigmatization of people of African descent, and reducing inequality gaps.

In addition to making visible the African theme in Uruguay in its multiple expressions, such as photography, audiovisual, music, dance, and other cultural projects. Her photos will be produced in diverse neighborhood environments involving various social activists where it will be essential for the construction of their sense of belonging and breaking the culture shock with people who are not privy to black heritage.

 
Eventually, Mayra Da Silva will present her exhibit on an international level. 

Coming Out as “TRANS...!”

I was in my favorite El Salvadorean restaurant called Los Cocos on Fruitvale Avenue here in Oakland, and ordered my favorite dish, pescado frito—fried fish with rice and a salad, and tortillas. While waiting for my meal, I heard some heart-warming, romantic, Spanish music airing over the radio system that was so touching, I had to ask the waiter what station it is because I intended to start tuning in myself when I got home. 

This was during the time when Bruce Jenner just completed his operation coming out as transgender; asserting the fact that he feels more like a woman than that of a man, and that she will go by the name of Katelyn.


As I felt the beautiful music encompassing my whole being, it influenced me to get in touch with my own feelings as it dawned that I need to stop this internal battle that has been going on since I was 10, and simply man up and accept myself for who I am and what I am. That is when I decided to come out as trans in a “cultural” sense. 

My co-worker was surprised at my love for old-school soul music.

One day at a company party, someone threw on an old-school song by a group known as the OJays, and I started rocking to the beat and grooving to the melody. An African-American co-worker asked me, “Bill, you like this music?” She asked because she knows about my deep love for Latin music, especially salsa, bachata. and Afro-Cuban, and of course, the fact that I was getting bilingual pay to communicate with monolingual Spanish speakers. This gave her, and so many others, the impression that I might have some Latin-American blood flowing in my veins.

By birth I'm African-American, and I grew up jamming to the likes of Diana Ross, Smokey Robinson, and James Brown. However, I told this co-worker that if R&B music had not changed from the days of the Motown Sound producing the likes of the Temptations, and Stax Records producing the likes of Isaac Hayes, I would never have crossed over to Spanish music as heavily as I did.

I'm primarily self-taught in Spanish, inspired by my Puerto Rican neighbors and classmates at a young age.

In the fifth grade, I started teaching myself Spanish out of a children's library book, and began practicing on my Puerto Rican neighbors and school mates, who by their very presence influenced me to want to learn Spanish in the first place. I later befriended, Carlos, a Puerto Rican classmate, and hung out at his house everyday after school where Spanish was spoken in the home. His mother was benevolent enough to invite me to her church in Spanish Harlem so I can get a real baptism in the Spanish language.

It came as no surprise when I was in Ecuador, South America just a few years ago, a cab driver asked me if I was from a Spanish speaking country in the Caribbean. Evidently, he heard some words come out of my mouth that sounded Puerto Rican, or more accurately, Newyorican (New York Puerto Rican).

During my teen years while listening to the popular African-American radio station, WWRL in New York City, I noticed how the DJs gave airtime to Puerto Rican musicians playing Latin jazz and Latin soul music. This planted a seed in my heart, and from there my tastes in Latin-American music expanded to music from countries like Cuba, the Dominican Republic, Perú, Colombia, Venezuela, and Bolivia.

My Spanish and my hobby of exploring the black Latin American experience made me Trans-“cultural” without my realizing it.

It was well into my adulthood when my interest in the Spanish language resurfaced from my childhood. And my late Mexican-American friend, Yolanda, who noticed the progress that I was making, admonished me to learn the culture if I'm going to speak the language!

I took that advice and ran with it. As years passed, I developed a brand new hobby of exploring black cultures in Latin-American countries through travel and research, thus the primary motive behind this blog.

So far, of the nine Spanish-speaking countries that I've visited, the two that had the greatest emotional impact on me were Cuba and Perú. In Cuba, I felt like a long lost member of the community who finally came home. And upon my return to the U.S., a part of me felt exhilarated for having taken the trip, and another part of me was heartbroken for having to return to the U.S. And Perú, which I visited several times, I had the honor of staying with the family of the late, great maestro, Amador Ballumbrosio, the godfather of Afro-Peruvian music and dance.

As an African American, my name is “Bill;” and I speak English. However, when I'm in Spanish-speaking country, my name is Guillermo where I speak only Spanish, and if anyone approaches me speaking English, I'm always quick to respond in Spanish just to drive the point home that I, Guillermo, has come out as trans-“cultural.”

Cuba's Love and Respect for American People

One of the most joyful moments in my life was entering the José Martí Airport in Havana after off-boarding Aero Cubana airline.

Some years back, a group of us American students had the opportunity to attend the University of Havana for Spanish-language intensive training. We went legally through the San Francisco-based Global Exchange, Inc., an international human rights organization. We flew to Cancún, spent the night, and at noon the next day, we caught our 45-minute flight to Havana where  Cuban hosts welcomed us.


If you talk to just about anyone who traveled to Cuba, they will tell you how much the common, everyday Cuban citizen love and respect American people despite the long-standing conflicts between US and Cuban governments. 

 Cultural exchange between Americans and Cubans

As I made my way around Havana, people assumed that I too was Cuban until they heard my foreign accent (in Spanish), and asked where I'm from. When I told them the USA, they generally shook my hand saying, “nice to meet you.” I've been invited to people's homes for dinners, shown the town, and introduced to new friends while dancing salsa.

I felt so out of place wearing my University of Havana and other Cuban t-shirts that I bought as souvenirs because they were dead giveaways that I'm a tourist. T-shirts with English writing on them donated by American and Canadian visitors over the years are hot items to be attained among Cuban people. I saw a woman wearing a New York Knicks jersey, and out of excitement, I shouted in Spanish, “that's my team! She gave me a confused look because she did not know what she was wearing. The fact that it was in English made it a fashion statement, and that was all that mattered. 

 Attending a lecture on Cuban Culture on 

the porch of the Che Guevarra house.

If you think the US economy is bad, you should see Cuba's where basic things we take for granted are in short supply and rationed out. It's not uncommon for people to wait an hour or two on a long line to buy a loaf of bread, for example, only to find that it is sold out. The US trade embargo against Cuba that has been going on for more than half a century has a lot to do with Cuba's economic woes. And it's not the Cuban government who is suffering nearly as much as innocent men, women, and children who feel no animosity whatsoever against American people.

If you have a chance to visit Cuba be it legally or through other available means, it's a good idea to take some items that you don't need and give them to the people with whom you establish rapport. Items such as CDs, T-shirts, clothing, toothbrushes, soap, and USB flash-drives would be greatly appreciated. When I gave a seven-year-old boy a set of pens and writing paper, he high-fived me with such excitement that you would think I gave him a $20 bill. 

One of my salsa music dance partners in 

the Barrio Habana Vieja (Community of Old Havana)

Havana, like every big city, has its share of city slickers who find legal ways hustle the increasing number of tourists. A bicycle-taxi driver supposedly invited me to a party for one of his little nieces. He and his friends were to lure me into the home and have me buy all the liquor and the food so they (and I) will have a good time. The hosts at the Che Guevarra house, next door to where I was staying, pulled my coat-tail to the scheme.

The crime rate is very low in Cuba because the penalties are so harsh that would be criminals are not willing to take the chance. What would get you a slap on the wrist for a first offense in the US can easily get you ten, or more years in a Cuban prison. There are secret police who keep a close watch on their citizens and surreptitiously report the slightest infractions to the authorities. They also identify and keep watch on visitors making sure they stay safe. This is all to build their growing and lucrative tourist industry. I remember how one aggressive person approached me, and I said to him, ¡no me moleste (don't bother me)! He immediately backed off, not because he was afraid of me; he was afraid of who was watching me.

While so many Cubans admire American culture, people around the world love Cuban culture, especially the music. Cuban music, food, and the Afro-Cuban religion, Santería, are international attractions. I just hope when this political conflict between the Washington and Havana governments are finally over that the Cuban culture continues to flourish.

It's Nice Meeting “Proud” Spanish Speakers

Here in the US, I reached a point a long time ago where I generally feel uncomfortable speaking Spanish to native speakers who are also fluent in English. So many seem to have a complex about speaking Spanish to someone who is not stereotypically profiled as “Latin-American.” 

Today at my local grocery store, I experienced a surprising, positive reaction from a Spanish-speaking cashier. I noticed her conversing in Spanish with another store employee bagging the groceries. As I stepped up to check out and not wanting to interrupt her Spanish flow, I immediately greeted her with buenas, an abbreviated expression for good morning, good afternoon, or good evening.

I was pleasantly surprised by the way she responded to me as though I too were a native Spanish speaker. We then exchanged parting words, ¡que te vaya bien (have a good one)!, ¡igual (you too)!, common in the Latin-American community. I felt proud of her, and of course, pleased at the opportunity to use my own Spanish. 

Any time that I'm in a Latin-American restaurant, I tip better when staff members interact with me in Spanish. At work, there are colleagues from various Latin American countries who generally communicate with me in Spanish and are always open to giving me advice and answering my questions concerning proper grammar. Unlike so many bilingual people I meet, these gentlemen greatly appreciate my efforts to improve my Spanish.

In my quest to develop Spanish fluency, I get my best opportunities vacationing in Latin-American countries. Here in the US, I reached a point a long time ago where I generally feel uncomfortable speaking Spanish to native speakers who are also fluent in English. So many seem to have a complex about speaking Spanish to someone who is not stereotypically profiled as “Latin-American.” They forget that real Latinos come in all colors and are members of varying ethnic groups, not just Spanish, Mestizo, and Indigenous.

I had a good laugh one evening in San Francisco when a friend from India and I were walking to a local restaurant to get a snack. A mono-lingual Spanish-speaker got right in her face (not mine) asking if she speaks Spanish because he needed directions. You should have seen the look on his face when it turned out to be I who gave him the directions he needed. My Indian friend does not speak Spanish.

In New York City, a few days after my arrival from Caracas, Venezuela. I was walking from my cousin's house to the subway station, and passed by a housing project where a Latino gentleman was vehemently explaining something in Spanish to a couple of friends. He suddenly stopped and looked at me with fear in his eyes, seemly hoping that I was not a robber. After all, this was in the notorious South Bronx—at night. 

Again, not wanting to interrupt a Spanish-speaking flow, I said con permiso (excuse me) as I walked by. In eloquent English, he responded with “certainly!” Now, in a city with a relatively large Afro-Latino population, you would think that he is accustomed to seeing blacks who can speak Spanish. Why did he respond in me English?

I once read a blog post by a Mexican-American woman in Arizona who was deeply disturbed about receiving information from a business that was written in Spanish. She states that she understands Spanish very well, but would have preferred English. What's the matter, does she think her Spanish makes her less of an American? If so, she is fooling herself. Spanish was spoken in what we know today as the United States before the United States was born. Appalled by her self-snobbery, I posted the following comment on her blog:

“Here I am knocking myself out daily trying to develop fluency in Spanish, and am always amazed at people who are blessed with the knowledge of both Spanish and English who appear to be so ashamed of it as though it is some sort of a curse.”

The woman never responded. I hoped that she would have because I'm always open to seeing opposing views. Who knows, I may learn something.

There is, however, one city in the US where the Spanish speakers are in-your-face proud—Miami. The Cuban people who populate  the area love their language and culture. I entered a Cuban restaurant and the manager greeted me in English with a thick Cuban accent. When I ordered in Spanish, he and his staff happily made me feel very welcome. Even the customers who overheard me were pleased. 

I've always considered Miami to be an honorary Latin American city where no one feels a need to get cute and answer you in English. Miami Cubans don't care who you are; they are always ready to roll in their native tongue.

For Blacks Traveling or Living in Latin America

I've been thinking of starting a support organization for black expats, tourists, students, and those working in a Latin American country to address issues specific to black people. I would even like to see a network with Afro-Latin Americans who are involved in their own civil rights struggle in their respective countries. For example, in Ecuador, there were times I had trouble catching cabs until the drivers realized that I was NOT Afro-Ecuadorian. Hmmmmm, this is s-o-o-o-familiar because, here in the US, blacks from other countries are perceived in a more positive and less threatening light than the home-grown black Americans.

One member of our Facebook forum, Brothers and Sisters in Latin America where I'm one of the co-moderators, states that the information that she receives regarding retiring abroad hardly ever has black issues involved, and stresses that her experience is likely to be different from a Caucasian person's experience.  Another member adds that her treatment in Brazil has been interesting to say the least. A lot of Brazilians find comfort in the racial democracy myth, but it is just that, a myth.

The Facebook forum, Brothers and Sisters in Latin America is a start. I think it's great that black travelers, students, company employees, and expats throughout Latin America network and share ideas and resources in addition to having a networking group within each respective country

.

If you have an interest in Latin America, 

be it travel, study, work, or retirement,

 Join our Facebook Forum

Brothers and Sisters in Latin America

Women's History Month: BLACK LATIN AMERICA

Women's History Month is an annual declared month celebrated during March in the United States, corresponding with International Women's Day on March 8. However, on this blog, I will spend the month of March celebrating the black women I admire in Latin America. In March 2011, in my post Celebrating Latinas I celebrated the likes of the following:

Monica Carrillo of Perú, head of a black Peruvian civil rights organization Lundú.

Piedad Cordoba, Colombia's first black senator.

María Chinquiquirá, a slave women who won her freedom by outsmarting her slave master in an Ecuadorian courtroom.

Adelina Ballumbrosio, Perú, mother of the late great master of Afro-Peruvian music Amador Ballumbrosio.

Toña Negra, México, singer known for her interpretation of boleros, sones, and rumbas.

Victoria Santa Cruz, Perú, composer, choreographer and daughter of the greatest exponent of Afro-Peruvian culture Nicomedes Santa Cruz. 

Lucresia, Spain (by way of Cuba), singer who mixes of traditional Cuban music with, salsa, jazz, and boleros.

María Elena Moyano, Perú, community organizer and activist who courageously stood up in the face of death to protest violence and abuse against women.
 
 

VALENTINES DAY - Latin America

 El Dia de San Valentin

As Valentines Day approaches, I think of all of my lady friends, or sister figures, in countries like Argentina, Colombia, Ecuador, Perú, and Uruguay. In fact, I asked an Ecuadorian friend, “como se dice Feliz Día de San Valentín en Ecuatoriano (how do you say Happy Valentines Day in Ecuador)” as people in some Latin American countries give this day a different name.

In most of Latin America the Día del Amor y la Amistad (Day of Love & Friendship) and the Amigo Secreto (Secret Friend's Day) are quite popular and are usually celebrated together on February 14, with the exception of Colombia where it is celebrated on the third Saturday in September. In Guatemala, the day is more commonly known as ‘El Día del Cariño’ (the Day of Affection).

In Latin America, this day is not just a celebration of romantic love, but also of love between friends, colleagues, and family. In Perú, this day is a public holiday. The people of Guatemala celebrate a similar holiday on the 14th of February, but is known there as the “Día del Cariño.”

There are varying accounts of how Valentines day all began, but the most-popular story claims that the holiday can be traced back to the Roman Emperor Claudius II. The Roman ruler had banned marriage, claiming that single men made better soldiers. Ever the consummate romantic, a priest named Valentine continued to marry couples against the emperor’s will until he was eventually imprisoned for his disobedience. While in jail, Valentine fell in love with a young girl who regularly came to visit him. Right before he died, the priest wrote her a love letter, which is now referred to as the first ever Valentine.

Latin American Etiquette (with the Ladies)

One morning, on my way to work in Oakland, CA, a woman and I boarded a city bus. Having been taught some manners as a child, I stepped back so the woman can board first. In a frustrated tone, she snapped at me, “go ahead!” With a suit yourself attitude and a shrug, I boarded the bus ahead of her. The transit operator (female) and I had a good laugh as she reminded me that times are changing. Trying to be a gentleman is not so much en vogue anymore. And speaking of ladies, I’ve met women here in the US who bitterly resent being called a lady. Woman is the politically correct term. Not all USA women, of course, share this sentiment, but enough to make me wonder.

On another occasion, I was riding a metro train (BART) from San Francisco to Oakland, and there was a Spanish-speaking immigrant couple standing over me conversing. With times changing, as alluded to by the female bus driver, I normally do not give up my seat unless it is for an elderly or disabled person (male or female). However, seizing an opportunity to practice my Spanish, I offered the women my seat. She smiled, seemingly pleasantly surprised to meet a gentleman in the United States of America, and responded with gracias, muy amable (thank you, you are so kind).

As I go about my Latin American vacations trying to fit in as much as gringo-ly possible, I’ve literally asked the friends that I made in those countries about proper etiquette. Of the many things they shared was that a gentleman absolutely gives up his seat for a lady on public transportation; a gentleman permits a lady to go first, such as boarding a bus, and the ladies expect it.

One hectic evening in a Quito, Ecuador bus station, I was waiting in line to buy a bus ticket back to Lima, Perú. Being next in line, I stepped forward as soon as a window became vacant. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a woman swooped past me towards the vacant window. Irritated, I snapped, con permiso señora, pero estaba aquí primero (excuse me, ma’am, but I was here first)! The ticket clerk looked at me as if I was from another planet, not to mention another country. To get even, she gave me, what I found out later to be, inaccurate information. I shared this incident with an Ecuadorian lady-friend hoping to learn a little more about cultural sensitivity, and was told that it is an Ecuadorian federal law that pregnant women, seniors (male and female), and the disabled (male or female) get to go the head of the line. The woman I confronted was neither pregnant, a senior, nor disabled, thus, I’m still up-in-the-air about as to  where I went wrong in my assertiveness.

When I land on Latin American soil, I find it necessary to change my paradigm when relating to women. In Latin-America, as in other parts of the world, the women’s movement have not come close to the advances made here in the US. Women in these countries generally hold positions where the disparity between male and female pay is far greater than that in the US. And the old-school customs that were practiced when I was a child growing up are still common place in Latin American countries. However, as I continue to explore Latin American cultures while improving my Spanish, I will need to keep abreast of their women’s movement because it is active and slowly gaining momentum.

Barrio Spanish (of the Hood)

 

Cuba:  ¿qué bola, asere (what’s up, bruh or dawg [dog])?

Perú: ¿qué pasó, familia? (what’s up bruh [primarily used by Afro-Peruvians])?

Venezuela: ¿epa, primo? = What’s up, cuz (short for cousin)

I started getting into barrio Spanish (of the hood) when I first saw the film “American Me” where I I picked up on words like órale (cool, all-right) and ¿entiendez mendez? (you know what I’m sayin’?). Because I currently live in a region of the US where there is a large Mexican-American population, I decided to buy a dictionary of Mexican slang entitled “El Libro de Caló.”  However, I stopped using such words in my communication with Spanish speakers who are not of Mexican ancestry because a friend I went to school with in New York got very upset as he reminded me that he is “Puerto Rican,” not “Mexican,” and that he does not use such words nor does he appreciate my using those words in addressing him. Perhaps, he would have felt better if I had used some Puerto Rican slang words like Que es la que estapa?,Que es la que? (what's up?) .

When I was in Cuba, people in the community taught me some of their slang words, like ¡consorte monina mongo! (it’s all good, bruh!).” Then there was one of my favorite Cuban songs entitled Hay Que Estar Arriba de La Bola, (you have to be on top of everything.
After my Cuban trip, I took it upon myself to go on the Internet and download slang words for each country that I planned to visit. That way, when I hear such words, I’ll understand the true meaning in its context. For example, in my first trip to Perú, there was a woman whom a new friend wanted me to meet, and he described her as toda bacán, (a wonderful person). Were it not for my slang research prior to my trip, he would have been unwittingly talking way over my head.

However, I began to realize something very disappointing. The slang words that are so popular in the barrios (the hood) of class-conscious Latin-America are considered trashy among the well-educated and the economically well-to-do. I remember on the University of Havana campus where I was undergoing Spanish-language intensive training, I greeted a classmate with ¿qué bola (what’s up)? The Spanish teacher approached me wagging her finger in my face admonishing me not to talk like that in her class. 

Now, when I travel to a Latin-American country, I realize that I have to use discretion with the words I use in reference to whom I’m addressing. Personally, I love barrio Spanish (hood lingo). I love the culture in the barrios, and as my longtime friend, Juan from Venezuela puts it, “the barrio is where the real culture is.” I agree because the Latin-American music that I enjoy most and that has gained such wide-spread notoriety like son-montuno of Cuba (the mother of salsa music), bachata of the Dominica republic, and landó of Perú were all born in the barrios, and were all at one time considered trashy and low class by those born with silver spoons in their mouths. Today, those genres of music are national treasures.

Latin American Travel (and my Job Loss!)

 

Once again, I was ready to take advantage of my accrued and approved 30-day vacation at a reputable San Francisco social service agency. Already well ahead in my quarterly productivity goals as a workforce development specialist, I gleefully clicked “send” on an e-mail reminding my colleagues not to refer any new clients for another month. 

The company's executive director, in an extremely rare person-to-person e-mail, asked where I was going—this time. With excitement I responded, Miami, Lima, and Caracas. She followed up with a comment that hinged on sarcasm, and even jealousy about my annual travel experience. I immediately dismissed such thoughts as my imagination because my logic strongly dictated that she makes twice my salary. How in hell could she be jealous?

Naively, I thought that I was impressing her, not only with my work-performance, but also by spending my vacations improving my Spanish and immersing myself in Latin-American culture; thus, better serving my company’s Spanish-speaking clientele. After all, one of the reasons I was hired in the first place was because of my Spanish.

However, there was some discussion among members of my predominately black travel group, Nomad-ness Travel Tribe, stating that it is not a good idea to talk so extensively about your travels in the workplace. It can cause some hard feelings because you are living your dreams and others aren’t. 

This, I must confess, is where I’m guilty as sin. One of my co-workers stopped speaking to me altogether. It's not that I was bragging about my travels; I was overflowing with joy, excitement, and anticipation. On Friday's, I proudly sported soccer jerseys from Ecuador and Perú, and a baseball jersey from Venezuela. Even my office was filled with pictures, currency, and artifacts from the countries that I’ve visited. 

An African-American CEO who himself, at one time, experienced a nasty termination from a job, is in agreement with my travel group. He pointed out that my company’s management may have been wondering where does this n… (expletive) get the means to do all of this traveling. 

Wow, I could have told them if they had only asked! I know how to travel very cheaply. In fact, I wrote a blog article entitled, Enjoy Travel Without Being Wealthy. The cost of my round trip tickets to Miami, Lima, and Caracas from San Francisco was only $917.

Unfortunately, two months after my trip, I was terminated from my job. Did this have anything to do with the jealousy that I sensed from the executive director's e-mail, who knows? The formal reason given was the result of “one,” lousy honest mistake that I made in my four years with the company. Although, I certainly do not defend the error, my intentions were well-meaning and pure, and I was expecting a strong reprimand, or at worst, a write-up. 

However, the reason given publicly for my termination was that my position was being “restructured” due to downsizing, which made more sense because I was never replaced. Meanwhile, the vacation time of the remaining employees have been reportedly cut. Hmmmm!