A fight broke up some days ago in one of the faculty parties. I only got to discover when it was almost over that I was somehow a catalyst, or rather the spark that started it.
One guy, who is in my year came to me (might I add that he was totally drunk by this time) and said some mumbo jumbo to me in Polish. The girl I was talking to became absolutely animated and started arguing with this guy. Since I couldn’t understand a word they were saying I excused myself and went to the next room.
It turns out that this guy had said something that was interpreted as being racist by the girl, thus the reason for the argument. Now, the boyfriend of the girl joined the argument and was pissed of that guy number 1 was arguing with his gf. Well, things turned nasty from then on. Guy #1 called guy #2 some names connected with his race and a fist fight was the result. Police were called and tempers flared and all sorts of other things happened.
My rant
I have been trying for quite some time to understand this race issue since I came to Poland. I mention since I came to Poland because when I was in Zimbabwe this was a non-issue for me. It’s difficult for me to take offence at things that people usually take to be racist remarks because I’ve never learnt to primarily identify myself as a particular race. It’s not that I’m not aware of my race, but usually I’m more aware of me being me. When I’m in a particular situation, I assume that people see me as the way I view myself- as Lungile and not as ‘that black girl’ or ‘Lungile who is black’.
Of course that’s somehow not really how things are in reality; which makes me understand why Afro-Americans are so sensitive when it comes to race issues. When I spent a few months in the US, I was really surprised by how much time and energy was spent by Afro-Americans discussing issues related with race. Once, a few of these acquaintances of mine decided not to go for a function organised by the students’ government, that is mainly white, because they (students gov) had sent an email that described the event organised as a picnic. According to my acquaintances, picnic was a word which was almost synonymous to lynching and they felt really threatened by the use of it.
I initially thought this was a lot of bullocks, but I think I somehow understand them in relation to me. They have lived in an environment where their race has been salient in a negative way. Obviously that would make them interpret things from I-am-black-person-and-that-is-why-you-are-doing-this-to-me perspective rather than anything else. I wonder if my 5 years in Poland are slowly turning me to that.
Oh, and I’m sincerely thinking of breaking my friendship ties with guy #1. Not so much because of the fist fight* (although I think that’s also quite despicable) but more because of the terrible terrible things he said to guy #2. I’ve always known that he has some radical thoughts but somehow I had also convinced myself that he really doesn’t believe in most of the things that he says. I’m beginning to doubt my assumptions about him.
*and I can’t understand people who become violent when they are drunk.