Atlantis

Last night was a night for revelations:

So I met up with a very sleepy, husky voiced Ankit, who, in a very typical move, wanted to hang out, made plans, and then stayed up from coming off shift at 6 am until 6 PM (so more than 24 hours total) playing video games and drinking and then was like "uh...crap. I have to meet Na at 10, better go to sleep." Anyway, we went to the poker room to eat (after a spirited debate in which he argued for the Red Sea and I told him to get stuffed.) and there we ran into Matt and Michelle, who for some reason was looking different, and gave me a start as I struggled to introduce her to Ankit without saying her name in case it wasn't her (it was, she just got a retainer and hadn't straightened her hair that day).

So after one drink I let Ankit have it for the "phillies incident". Why, in the name of all that's holy, did he bother to come out to the bar to meet me if he was just going to hug a pole across the room. After a little back and forth where Ankit tried to wiggle out of it by using, variously, untranslatable shrugs and sort of pretending his English wasn't *quite* good enough to follow me, he finally coughed it up: Veron.

F-ing VERON was the issue. He didn't even really want to say it, but as soon as he started it, I knew exactly what he was talking about. He doesn't like Veron and didn't want to be "waved over" and "trapped".
I told him that not to worry, Veron was a failed experiment.
The noteworthy part of the conversation was when Ankit described Veron (who is extremely dark skinned) as "the black Indian" (Ankit's from the north and quite fair, in fact I'm almost as dark as he is when I'm tan, although I'm "red" a kind of sugar ham glow, and he's "yellow"- a pecan colored tan). I turned my head to the side that had the good ear- "what?! The WHAT?"

My eyebrows were in my hairline.
"The black." Ankit repeats, confounded as to where the confusion lies.
"Uh, Ankit, Veron's not black (I meant "African") he's mixed Indian and a little Portuguese" (although Portuguese are not considered "white" by most whites either, but that's another story...they're most assuredly not "black").
"Is he, uh....part African as well?" I mean, it's not outside the realm of possibility, but it seems *very* unlikely.
Ankit laughs.
"No, he's...dark, a black. That's what we call those from the south."

Stunned silence from my end. Now, it's a tragic reality that most of the Indians I've met are almost comically racist when it comes to skin color, which is a bitter irony since what they're missing is that as soon as you set foot on US territory, if you fail the "paper bag" test, you're "of color" and there is no such thing as "a black Indian"- (well, I'm sure there are "African Indians", but I've never heard of or seen them)- so you can be "fair" or "black" and guess what, you're still "of color". I guess, being charitable, they could be using this phrase the same way some people say "Black Irish" but given the fact that it refers to skin color, I doubt it.

This also highlights the typical attitude I find from others too, which is "my hometown is a bustling metropolis, and everyone else is a bumpkin from the wrong side of the tracks." Cyrus in fact comes to mind, as he explained how he himself was not a vegetarian, but "people from the south, or from the provinces" might "still" be ( as opposed to "Bombay" which left that ridiculous poor- person nonsense behind 50 years ago).

This is very common, and in fact a Pinoy broke it down for me the other day (more on that guy later), explaining that "people from the North" didn't "stink" (a common and very annoying perception that I've heard from more than one person. If they had any idea what most Americans think of everyone from "over there" they'd be in a dead faint on the floor, or twitching with anger.) I just gave a non-assent grunt ( I mean why anger someone you just met?) and was prevented from using my "trump card" argument by discretion: I've been seeing someone from the south, and he most assuredly does NOT stink.
Over here, skin color is a big issue too- everyone wants to be "white", in fact I struggled to find skin care that wasn't "whitening", seeing as I already have "that pinkish white glow" that Jergens promises you, and I worked hard for my slight golden color. Although next to most people I look like a Kabuki actress, or Nicole Kidman under particularly hot lights- super pale with startling light eyes--heh.

Anyway, this Pinoy is a type. He happened to be in the car taking a ride with my car service. He's a type that is, personality wise, like nails on a chalk board for me. Overstyled, metro, and unctuous, with a mouth full of huge, straightened, blindingly white teeth, he's got a way about him that just grates. I guess I could sum it up as "how do you keep them on the farm after they've seen gay Paree?" This guy had been to Chennai for work, and this is where he got his "information", including the very upsetting assertion that most Indians "hate" Westerners. I did argue that with an incredulous laugh. "That's not been my impression, kuya. In fact, much to the opposite. I've got rather a full dance card, as far as it goes." I didn't want to spell it out, but as I've pointed out, if I was "on the market", there would be a discreet stampede to try to be the "first" through the door.

It's hard to pinpoint what my issue with this dude was, kind of a combination of his high handed way ("I'm renting a van, that's why I was over at the car service house"), and his slinky, sly way of not answering questions; when asked where he was staying, he said "over here". Yeah, no shit? When asked who he worked for/ what program he said "I'm helping out Randy". Randy is the Sales Training MANAGER, a big boss who handles the sales training for like, 5 programs (and actually when I told Randy what he said, Randy rolled his eyes and corrected it: "He wants to work for me."), so people don't "help" him, they WORK FOR him. Although this is relatively common over here, people who are lower on the totem pole are introduced as "helping". I barked at Davie when he tried this with me, "Thanks for making me sound like the chambermaid!" He laughed, and I felt bad when the guy he was introducing me to introduced his VPs and "helping me with the program".

Also, in other interesting things I've heard: asking Ant how old his father was, he thought about it, thinking out loud, this is what he said "Wellllll, he was born the same year Indian was granted it's freedom, so that was 1947, so he's 63". It's hard to overestimate the bombshell this throwaway statement had on me. I literally (and I never use that word) have no idea what it must be like to having living relatives that remember living as a colony. It sort of blew my mind. And it was just another night.