Kinky Gazpacho in the NBA

Hola Meltingpot Readers,

Quick. Name a NBA player currently playing in the semi-finals who calls Barcelona, Spain home.

Are you thinking about Pau Gasol? You'd be right. Gasol plays for the Lakers and hails from Barcelona. But there's someone else. Serge Ibaka. Ibaka plays for the Oklahoma Thunder. And while he was born in the Congo, he moved to Spain in his teens, played for Real Madrid and was just granted Spanish nationality last year. So, that makes Ibaka a Black Spaniard in my book.

Dear readers, I am not an NBA fan. I care very little about professional sports, but I am a sucker for a good story and Serge Ibaka has a good story. It's Kinky Gazpacho in the NBA. He's also pretty easy on the eyes. Here's a small documentary about Ibaka's -- aka Air Congo -- life. FYI, it's in Spanish.



For those of you who don't habla español, here's an article that ran in the New York Times about Ibaka.

For those of you who follow the NBA, did you know Ibaka had Spanish nationality? Since his nickname in the league is Air Congo, I don't know how many folks are going to associate him with his adopted country, although if he plays for Spain in the Summer Olympics, that might make a difference. What do you think? Is it fair to call Ibaka a Spaniard? Afro-Spaniard? I'm listening.

Peace!

Negro, Negrita, Morena: What is it Like to Be Black in Spain?

Hello Meltingpot Readers,


I need your help. I'm working on a lecture for a university audience about being Black in Spain. Much of the discussion will be about my own experience living in Salamanca, traveling around the country, and of course, visiting my in-laws in Andalucia. I will also discuss my findings of African slaves in the Iberian peninsula. But every time I give this talk, I feel like I'm doing a bit of a disservice.

How can I, one person, speak for the totality of the Black experience in Spain? Obviously, I can not. And I don't pretend to, and yet, invariably people want to take what I say and claim it is The Truth. It is only my Truth. So, I'm asking you today, dear readers, to chime in with your own experiences. If you happen to be Black or Brown, and have travelled to Spain, either recently or many years ago, would you mind telling me in a word or two how was your experience? How were you treated? Did you feel the love or did you feel unwanted? Did you fall in love with the culture? Why or why not? Compared to your experiences traveling to other countries, where does Spain fit?

Clearly, I'm not looking for one answer, I'd just like to pepper my talk with the variety of experiences that I know people have had. Everything helps. Thanks for sharing. And in the meantime, if you'd like to read about the Black experience in Spain, besides my experience, here are some websites and blogs that might be of interest.

Afro-Europe: Black Women in Spain Today
Being Black in Spain: A Current Student's Perspective

And below, check out the video from BlackAtlas.com about Madrid.

Hasta Pronto!

Black Women in Barcelona

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

Just a link today, but I had to share. So close to my heart. If I moved to Barcelona ( a secret dream of mine), I'd beg to join this group. Check it out.



Where's your dream location to live? Would you do it? What's stopping you?

Peace and Sweet Baby Feet!

Michele Obama -- First (Black) Lady in Spain

Meltingpot readers,

I don't know where to begin. First, I saw this annoying article this morning that claims Americans are annoyed that First Lady Michelle Obama gets to have a lavish vacation in Spain while the country is in a recession.

Then I got annoyed when I started reading some of the 3000 plus comments that of course, have to rapidly deteriorate into overt racism in terms of justifying why the First Lady can't take a vacation.

But what's more, I almost did a double take by the line in the story that said that the State Department had actually issued a warning for African-Americans traveling to Spain. Seeing as how the story was on Yahoo, I didn't believe it at first, but I did my own poking around and found several references to this 'travel advisory for African-Americans traveling to Spain.' Apparently there was such a warning based on several African-Americans being unfairly harassed and/or arrested by Spanish police. The warning was indeed yanked by the State department before the First Lady's arrival. For a full account of that story, you can read here.

For some reason, knowing that the State Department felt justified in issuing this warning takes my anecdotal evidence of Spain's peculiar attitude towards Black people to another level of reality and potential danger. Not just annoyance. When the police are implicated in a country's racist behavior then one does have to take the warnings a little more seriously than those issued by an author and blogger with a Spanish husband. Will I still happily travel to Spain? Absolutely. I can't wait for our next trip. But will I pay a little bit more attention? Will my racism radar be switched on? Probably.(sigh)

And just to leave you with a question. If the US government warns African-Americans who travel to Spain to be careful because the Spanish police are racist, what kind of warning are they issuing for their own citizens seeing as how Black men get falsely arrested, shot, pulled over and harassed almost every day? Is there a warning for that somewhere on a website?

Peace.

Oh, Spain. Not Again.

Just when I think I can hang my happy flag about Spain, somebody sends me a link to this blog post at Black in Cairo.com. It's an open letter to Spain decrying the virulent racism endemic to their country and culture. And she makes some good points.

Of course, not every citizen of Spain is racist, but as Black Girl in Cairo suggests, the country could benefit from some serious sensitivity training and acknowledgement that yes, they have a problem. It would be a welcome first step.

Of course I'm married to a Spaniard and think of the country as my second home, but that doesn't mean I don't cringe and roll my eyes heavenward when I hear about what happened to Black Girl in Cairo.

Funny thing is, I know a lot of Black people who LOVE Spain. Who have never experienced anything but the most respectful treatment in the country. One of my best girlfriends, in fact, is planning to move to Barcelona permanently. And then there is my favorite Black Girl in Spain, Ieishah at Fat Juicy Oyster keeping it real on the Iberian Peninsula. Maybe she can tell us what Spain should do to curb their enthusiasm for being mean, rude and/or ignorant towards non-Spanish people.

What about you, dear readers. What have your experiences been like in Spain or with Spaniards? Do you think there is a market there for Diversity Training 101? Is Spain any worse than any other European country? Do we expect more of Spain because they are often thought of as not quite Europeans?

I'm listening.

Peace.

No Spain This Summer

So the good news is that el esposo has been accepted into a doctoral program here in Philadelphia. After all of these years of supporting my fabulous freelance career, aka no regular salary and no health benefits, el esposo finally gets to follow his bliss. Come September, he will begin his studies to get his Ph.d in Hispanic linguistics and I will be the official worker bee supporting our Kinky Gazpacho family. Luckily, el esposo is so brilliant he was awarded a teaching fellowship, so he will receive a tiny, little, itty, bitty stipend, but the fact of the matter is, we will be eating a lot more beans and rice for dinner.

Which brings us to the bad news. Because we're looking at some lean years ahead, this summer el esposo will be working two jobs to try to offset his soon to be lack of income. So, of course a trip to Spain for four people is out of the question.

Now some people may not be able to muster up a shred of sympathy for my predicament, but I have to say that for our family, going to Spain doesn't feel like a luxury or even a vacation. It's simply where we live during the summers. Summer equals Spain. Summer means not speaking English. It means pan con aceite de oliva instead of butter, for breakfast. It means dry, hot heat by day, and refreshing Atlantic breezes at night. It means playing with our cousins and watching a lot of soccer. It means watching my children shed their American skin and practice being a child in a different language. It means feeling a little inept in the domestic arts for me, as I watch how a "real" Spanish woman cares for her home and waits on her man. Yes, I am going to miss it all.

Every day my children ask, 'when are we going to Spain?' For them, it isn't even a question of whether we will go, but when are we leaving. I hate telling them that this year we are not going, not because I feel bad that we don't have enough money, but rather because in our family summer equals Spain. This is how el esposo and I have tried to instill in our Spanish-American children that they come from two countries. We don't want Spain to feel like a sometime-y vacation or holiday. We want them to know that they belong there too.

So, how am I making myself feel better about the whole thing? Well, given el esposo's area of study, I'm sure sooner or later he'll have to go do research in Spain and the kids and I will tag along. Also, this is only one year. Who knows what will happen next year? Maybe my new novel, Substitute Me will be optioned for a film deal or Oprah will make it her last book club pick, we'll be filthy rich and get to go Spain twice a year! And in the meantime, el esposo's sister is still in love with my brother and is coming for an extended visit in the fall. So, if we can't get to Spain, at least a little bit of Spain is coming to us.

Thanks for listening. And by the way, what do you world travelers do when you can't afford the transatlantic flight? What do you do to substitute for travel?

Peace.

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p.s. Tune in to the Today Show, tomorrow (Thursday) morning at 8:09am to catch me talking about hair. The specific topic: Curly vs Straight.

Back to the Black Virgens

A couple of days ago I received a comment on my post about the Virgen de Regla in Chipiona, Spain. A reader --trying to help me solve the mystery of why the Virgen in this small Spanish seaside town is Black -- wrote:

"St. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo (which was located in Algeria, Africa), was trying to convert his fellow Africans to Christianity and created a black Virgin. The image eventually made it to Chipiona, Spain."

Aha! Makes perfect sense I thought, but I figured I'd do a little research on my own before I decided to take this new theory as fact. If you recall, I'd already discovered many theories for the Virgen's "questionable race" but none of them seemed believable. So I did what any intrepid reporter would do, I googled St. Augustine of Hippo. Turns out, St. Augustine led a fascinating life, and left volumes of works behind to document his beliefs, teachings, and life story. However, I could not find a single text of his titled, "The Story of How and Why I Created a Black Virgen." (sigh)

But, dear readers, there are other people out there in the blogosphere who agree with my commenter. People who seem to know the story of the Virgen de Regla's origins very well.

I found this tidbit of discussion on a the forum Orishanet.org:

"The origin of the devotion to the Virgen de la Regla can be traced back to St. Augustine. It was this great saint who hand-carved the first image of the Virgen de Regla and made her the patroness of the Rule of what is the present-day Order of St. Augustine. As a founder, St. Augustine made reglas or rules for the members of his Order to follow. He dedicated these reglas or rules to the Virgin, thus making her the Virgin of the Rule of St. Augustine.

Why is the image of the Virgen de la Regla dark? Contrary to what many people presume, the image of the Virgin is dark not simply because its original statue is made of wood but because its devotion developed in Africa. St. Augustine, who died in the year 430, was from Hippo in north Africa. Since the setting was Africa, the original image was probably made by St. Augustine to harmonize with the color of the people who would be its first devotees. Since most Africans were dark-skinned, a dark-skinned patroness would give them a sense of familiarity and closeness. It is because of its dusky color that both in Africa and in Spain the Virgen de la Regla is also known as La Virgen Morena (The Brown Virgin). "

I also found a more complex and detailed story which includes the same premise -- that the Virgen was purposefully created as a Black woman because the people of Hippo were dark --but that her arrival to Spanish shores included a dire escape, hundreds of years hidden underground, miracles and a fig tree. You can read that fascinating story here.

But the part about this Virgen's story that I blew my mind is what happened to her when her image and legend arrived in Cuba. (We go way Kinky Gazpacho here.) According to Salsa Havana author, Viviana Caballo, "Upon arrival in Cuba, La Virgen de Regla's legend grew even more extraordinary. She became part of the Santeria pantheon and merged with the powerful African deity Yemaya, the mother of all life."

Wow! Who knew the power of a Black Virgen? What still makes me scratch my head though is, how can people all over the world worship Black Virgens and yet discriminate against and hate Black women (and men) in real life? How do you reconcile those two feelings in your soul? Got answers? Let's hear them.

Peace!

Enjoy Your Weekend.

Black Girl in Spain -- Can Sing. Will Stir Your Soul!

It's Saturday morning and I'm still in Charlottesville getting ready for another day at the Virginia Festival of the Book. So far it's been great. The temperature has been in the low 70's. My panel on travel writing yesterday was packed, and I've met some amazing authors. Don't tell my precious little ones back home, but it's been an absolute delight to be on my own these 48 hours to soak up the creative energy flowing all around. I sat at an outdoor cafe with three amazing writers yesterday, unconcerned about time, sipping coffee and talking about, well, writing. It was glorious.

One of the writers whom I shared the stage with yesterday was Philip Graham. Graham is a prolific fiction, non-fiction writer and poet. He's also a traveller. A real traveller. And he writes a lot about his travels and living abroad. Yesterday he spoke about his love affair with Lisbon, where he lived for a year with his wife and child. You'll definitely be hearing more about Graham here on the Meltingpot, but for now I just wanted to share something that he shared with me.

Even though he claimed all of his Portugese friends would call him a traitor for saying so, Graham introduced me to one of the most glorious Spanish singers I've ever heard. Her name is Concha Buika and she's Black. Born in Palma de Mallorca, her family hails from Equatorial Guinea, which makes her one of those rare Black Spaniards. Now, I'd post about her here even if she wasn't all that, but just listen to sing her award winning hit, Mi Nina Lola and tell me she doesn't make your soul ache.

Of course I want to now find out everything about her. In case you do too, here's some links to know more about Ms. Buika.

An interview on NPR.



A current Q&A

And now let the music speak for itself.



Peace!

The Only Chocolate Chip in the (Spanish) Cookie--Part II

Of course there is another side of this story. Being the only chocolate chip in a sea of (Spanish) vanilla can be liberating in a way. Liberating in the sense that as one of a select few, you are free to be different. There's no way to hide your skin color, so you might as way go all out with NOT blending in, which is kind of fun.

I already know people are going to stare at me, so sometimes I wear really loud colors and lots of jewelery -- things I like but wouldn't dare to wear at home -- because it's like, folks are going to stare at me anyway, let's really give them something to look at. I wear my hair differently, I take more risks on how I put myself together in terms of dress, and I find myself displaying a little bit more attitude than I would in the United States because I can. There aren't any Black girl rules here for me to follow or break. I make my own.

And then there's always the hip factor. In an admittedly overly generalized way, I can say Black Americans are thought to be pretty cool. The other night, my brother, my husband, sister-in-law and my kids went out here in Spain. We stopped for a bite to eat at a little outdoor cafe and were treated really well by the wait staff. Come to find out, the waiter thought my brother was Will.i.am! Last night after eating dinner at an upscale pizza restaurant here, he was invited to a private party by the restaurant owner. I think my brother is a cutie, but that never happens at home.

So, yeah, being the only chocolate chip in this cookie has its annoying/irritating side, but it has its advantages too. I try to focus on the positive seeing as I don't have to live here all year round and life is too short to worry about things you can't really do much to change.

When you travel do you stand out? Why? and How do you handle it?

Peace!

The Only Chocolate Chip in the (Spanish) Cookie

"There aren't a lot of Black people in Spain are there?"

This is the realization my eight-year-old son made after two weeks here in Spain. My answer? "You're right. There aren't a lot of Black people." And then I was at a loss for words. I felt the need to explain something. To explain why there weren't a lot of Black people. To ask if they felt strange being the only Black people around. But I didn't say anything. I'm not sure why.

What should I have said? Any suggestions?

By the way, both of my boys have already now started going, "Look! There's a Black person," every time they see somebody with a bit of color around here.

So Meltingpot readers. What would you say?

Peace!