An Exotic Animal: August 22

Spotted: Walking through the streets of Diriamba. Clearly not native to the area. So far acting timidly but occasionally approaches people. Approach with caution.

Can you guess? Yes, that animal is a redheaded girl with gringo parents from Minnesota. I knew coming into this experience that I would draw attention to myself. I knew that I would not fit in naturally and that many people would stare on the street. I knew that men would catcall and women would look suspicious as if they needed to hold on tight to their husbands and boyfriends. I knew that I would feel annoyed by the stares and the comments, but I had to recognize that I was in a new culture and I had experienced all of this before so I knew how to deal with it, or so I thought.

It could be my role as a “professional” instead of a student or my place in a relatively small community that makes me feel different this time. But for some reason it is no less annoying than when I first arrived in Chile or Peru. I feel like a spectacle walking through the streets. The four volunteers in Diriamba make up an interesting mix as two are of Mexican decent, one is Asian-American, and I am a redhead. In introducing ourselves people recognize that my two classmates are Latino and blend in, they describe my other friend as “China,” and I am the gringa, the most gringa that you can get. My friend Stephanie is Chinese, so she says the comments of China don’t bother her even though the stares get awkward. It’s a bit like me, that I don’t get offended when I’m called a gringa, but I don’t see why people feel the need to point it out all the time. I know I don’t look the same, but why do people we meet feel the need to talk about it?

I shouldn’t be frustrated. I know that people are just making small talk and speaking not to offend but according to the cultural norms of Nicaragua. But I don’t understand why in addition to the stares and the catcalls and the comments of short phrases in English I also have people telling me I look like a gringa. I am a gringa in a new country. I am from the U.S., I speak English and Spanish, I am white as white can be, and I’m trying to integrate into a country that blatantly categorizes people by how they look.

But then I question, is it that much different from the U.S.? We categorize people everyday without even thinking about it. If you meet a white person you ask where they’re from and nod when they tell you somewhere in the states. If you meet a person of color, some are not satisfied with an answer like Minneapolis. You can’t be from Minneapolis, you have to identify as Chinese, Mexican, South African, or Hmong. I am a part of the majority, which is part of the reason why it bothers me to be treated this way, because never before (besides the limited time I’ve spent abroad) have I been treated like this. I’m not used to it in a place I want to call home. But many of my friends and many people in the U.S. are viewed as “exotic animals” every day. One of these things is not like the other and how do I now deal with now being the thing that stands out? How does that change my perspective on the way I walk through the world? It’s not that I never before have thought of how people of color feel in a white school or environment, but on some small scale I now better understand the frustration and anger that comes with being treated like this. And like many, after a while I will begin to ignore it, grow accustomed to these ways and continue on in my life. The stares may not be quite as blatant in the U.S. (though I think some probably are) and the comments may be more hushed, but we clearly still have a long way to go. I can sit in Nicaragua and attribute these feelings to cultural differences, but what do you do when you are alienated in your own home in your own country? Most importantly, how do we individuals who are a part of the white majority change the way that we walk through the world to change U.S. culture?