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!

Sympathizing with the Slave Owner? -- "Conquistadora" Made Me Do It

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

I think it is safe to say that if a novel can make a Black woman sympathetic to an unrepentant slave owner in 1845, then that's some good writing. Suffice it to say, Esmerelda Santiago's epic new novel, Conquistadora does just that.

According to all of the publicity material, Conquistadora is about a young Spanish woman, Ana, who feels stifled by her upper-class upbringing in colonial Spain and longs to live a life of adventure like her conquistador ancestors. So she marries and convinces her husband and his twin brother to move to Puerto Rico and stake their claim in the "new world." This is in 1845 and Puerto Rico is a growing but still untamed island colony belonging to Spain. It was where many Spaniards -- actually any White man from Europe -- from questionable backgrounds could reinvent themselves. It was part of the Spanish Wild West and Ana wanted in, no matter what the cost. Soon enough, Ana and her husband are running a sugar plantation in an isolated part of the island with the African slaves on the plantation the closest thing they have to neighbors.

Conquistadora follows Ana's travails from her marriage and arrival in Puerto Rico, through twenty years of drama. Births, deaths, slave revolts, cholera epidemics. You name it, it happened. But through it all she remains stoic in her determination to make a name for herself in this island nation. To create something from her own two hands instead of relying on her class and parents' wealth. Ana is a survivor and the reader wants her to achieve her goals. Or at least I did. But the problem is, Ana's dreams of making her sugar plantation a success requires the use and abuse of slave labor. There's no other way. Or at least there's no other way Ana and her sexy overseer, Severo Fuentes can think of to bring in the sugar cane and turn a profit. (By the way, Severo is one of those Spaniards from a "questionable background" who is in Puerto Rico seeking fame and fortune.) So, yes, I found myself sympathizing with the slave owner. I wanted Ana to be victorious. I cheered for her success.

So, we come back to Santiago's brilliant storytelling. In my mind, the main character of this tale isn't Ana, but rather, Puerto Rico itself. The island is a living breathing entity that enchants and mystifies. It causes men and women to renounce what they've known before and try to tame her. There are many characters in the book, Spaniards, Africans -- slaves and free --rich and poor, first generation native-born islanders, but it is the island that sits at center stage in this epic tale. After reading this book, one understands not just how Puerto Rico came to be, but why and at what cost. With lush descriptions and an eye for historical detail, Santiago has written a thrilling ode to her birthplace.

For anyone interested in historical fiction, you'll love this book. If you're like me and are fascinated by the intersection of African and Spanish lives and culture, you'll love this book. If you're eager to understand the truly diverse culture of Puerto Rico, you'll love this book. If you'd like an insight into slavery under a different colonial empire than the British (and then American), then you'll love this book. If you're interested in truly understanding the mindset of those who sought to tame new worlds, you'll love this book. As soon as I finished reading it, el esposo grabbed it and read it too. He loved it as much as I did. So, there you have it. Two Kinky Gazpacho thumbs up for Conquistadora.

Peace!

Down South

Last night I shared my bedroom with a lizard (actually it was a salamander, el esposo assured me, as if that made it any better). Yesterday afternoon in 100 degree weather, I hung my clean clothes out on the line, knowing the blazing hot sun would have them dry in minutes. And right around dusk yesterday evening, my brother-in-law brought over three ripe watermelons picked fresh from his wife's family garden. Without a doubt, I'm down south.

Funny that I'm in Spain and yet the cultural norms of being down South mimic my own summers spent with my grandparents in Maryland. (Some wouldn't call Baltimore south, but I do, especially when your grandparents are transplants from North Carolina.) Summers with my grandmother meant tagging along while she hung all of our clean laundry on the line in her backyard, then collecting the fresh vegetables she had growing in her garden. Every day my great-grandfather, Papa Carter, stopped by to drop off a huge watermelon and a pack of chewing gum for his favorite granddaughters. And heaven was baking lemon cakes with my grandmother and then decorating them with wild raspberries plucked straight from the vine. For the rest of the day my older sister and I mostly entertained ourselves, playing jacks on the porch and collecting lightning bugs in grape jelly jars at night.

My parents on the other hand, though originally from Mississippi and North Carolina, now live in a two-bedroom condo in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. There is no sending my kids south to visit. Or so I thought until now. Being here in the south of Spain this summer with my boys at an age where they notice differences and can participate fully in daily life, I am thrilled to see them taking part in a way of life that I associated only with my southern Black roots. But clearly the Black is inconsequential in a way.

My sons are learning here how good food tastes when it comes right from the farmers' stall at the market and they are learning to appreciate a nice rest after a good meal. (Unlike home where I'm met with only moans and groans if the words 'nap' or 'rest time' should escape from my lips.) They now know that clothes pins are actually for hanging up clothes and not just for art projects at school. My older son, who takes after his mother when it comes to creepy, crawly things (meaning he shrieks like a girl whenever a bug comes near him) was thrilled to tell me he found a dead lizard this morning in the back garden! And maybe most importantly, both of my sons are learning how to just slow down. I love it.

At the end of the day, this southern Spanish experience doesn't really surprise me. It serves only to remind me that when I picked el esposo to be my partner, even though on the outside we seemed to come from different worlds, I could tell he was a kindred spirit. I could tell our life views were shaped by similar forces, mainly a strong bond to family, where both families come from down south.
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Coming up next, the connections between a southern Spanish lisp and an American southern drawl.

Peace!

Japanese Beauty

In the world of stereotypes and preconceived notions, Japanese women are rarely depicted as beauty queens. But as of last night, history turned a new page when 20-year-old Riyo Mori was crowned Miss Universe. She is only the second Japanese woman ever crowned Miss Universe. Her predecessor wore the sparkly tiara back in 1959. I wonder if the people of Japan are celebrating the victory?

Interestingly, Miss Japan won over the boisterous crowd in Mexico City because she began her speech during the interview portion of the competition with, "Hola, Mexico" and did not trip and fall during the evening gown portion of the competition like Miss USA did.

Congratulations Ms. Mori, the Meltingpot wishes you the best of luck spreading good cheer around the globe and promoting alternative visions of universal beauty.

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By the way, check out Racialicious today and watch the commercial for Iberia Airlines. Is it just me or do the Spanish people just not understand what is considered offensive, off-color, caricatures of Black people? I'm so fascinated by their complicated "issues" with Black folk, I wrote a book about it called Kinky Gazpacho. Watch for it next spring. In the meantime, appreciate the fact that this ridiculous Iberia airlines ad featuring a white baby and two hoochie mama looking Cuban women on the beach was pulled from the airwaves.

And please note that I'm not suggesting that the Spanish are alone in their collective issues knowing what is offensive to the viewing public, (Need I even utter the words Don Imus?) They've just caught my interest since I married a Spaniard and spend lots of time in that country as both an oddity and a delight. It's complicated. That's what I said before.


Hasta Pronto.