Hiding in Hungary


That’s what I’ve been doing here, hiding.  In Budapest, I hid because I didn’t want Hungarians to assume I was a tourist simply because I am different, and from America, land of the arrogant tourist.  In Tiszavasvári, I opened up because of my daughter and a genuine desire to be among others.  Yet, the more open I become, the more of myself I share with others, the less willing they are to genuinely open their minds’ world view.  So, now, I hide.  I hide my ears away with the music’s blast.  I hide my sight away with the lowering of my head.  I hide my mind away with the temptation of a better tomorrow.  If this were all a simple case of burnout, I would just leave for the summer and return refreshed.  This is beyond culture clash, this is beyond racism.  This is hate.  I’m hated simply because I’m different.  I could maybe even understand this hatred if they hated me truthfully…most of them don’t even realize who I am, where I’ve been in my life, how my life started.  They hate because they can and because learning about the other, me, represents a loss of their own national identity.  What they fail to understand, to realize is that true learning is a communication between entities, not a dismissal of one over the other.

I am who I am.  I am my own kind of American, my own kind of dark-skinned person, my own kind of sexy and I love that about myself, no matter how much hate they throw my way.

2 thoughts on “Hiding in Hungary

  1. Really makes you reconsider the level of racism in America. In other parts of the world racism is equal ALWAYS to hate. Here in America it is sometimes hate, but more often then not it is generally just dislike. I personally could care less who dislikes me, but hate is a different story. This is a similar situation you would find all over the world, even in my own Asian countries. The worst part is we are often the mosr cruel towards our own race. Nice post.

  2. Thank you. I don’t regret my experience here because I HAVE learned so much about my personal identity. In America, some of my “own people” were getting on my case because I went outside of my race. Others judged me because they had never met a black person like me (too much to go into). I learned to just keep it moving and realized that people can be very ignorant and judgmental. Everything here (the hate, the judgment, the staring) is so concentrated in such a small place and that’s why I find it very difficult.

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