Racial Discrimination

That phrase usually conjures up images of Rosa Parks and MLK, but here it's of course flip flopped on who's the race doing the discrimination. It comes in a lot of random forms. Sometimes taxi drivers kick locals out of there car so they can take us (which seems like a good thing) but it's only because they think they can more easily cheat us.

We were told that prices here are not based on supply and demand so much as they are on the buyer. Vendors decide the price based on three things- how much it cost them to buy the item (which makes sense) what color your skin is and how expensive your clothes are. Here it's seen as perfectly legitimate to charge a higher price for someone who seems richer- it's sort of a ground level redistribution system. And of course white skin means loads of money- but for a lowly intern with an organization who focuses on intentional poverty, it's simply not true!

Walking down the street here is also a different story. It's a game for me every morning to see how far I can get from my house before someone shouts "Wayt boy!" at me. I've never reached 100 yards. A lot of them just want the satisfaction of waving at the white boy, others want you to come talk with them (and every conversation inevitably turns to how we can help them get to America where all their problems will be solved). Others just like to call us out. Steph says (and I've noticed it's true) that they heckle you more if you look like you're having a bad day, so even when I'm having an awful day I try to walk around with a pleasant look on my face which is difficult in the hot tropical sun.

We also get harassed by public officials and the police. The others on my team have been nearly assaulted by tax collectors demanding they pay their local tax. One time I was walking down my street and three policemen saw me from a far. I saw them gesturing at me and I could tell they were planning on messing with me. They approached and very seriously and loudly demanded I pay my tax. I protested saying that I was a tourist and didn't have to and they got even more intimidating, fingering their handcuffs, not caring that I had a tourist visa. I played my trump card and told them that I pay my taxes to Barack Obama (whom they worship here) and it worked. They immediately got distracted at really excited and they asked if I had voted for him. I knew the outcome of the rest of my day probably depended on my answer, so I said yes and I was immediately their hero. After some laughs and hearty back slapping, they were on their way. Thanks, Barack Obama :-)

It's really not so bad, but it's very interesting being a minority in a place where political correctness, politeness, and the like don't really matter.