Adventures of a Gringa

Skin deep

I was procrastinating writing a long post I've had on the back burner for awhile when I came across this story and knew I had to share it with my Brazilian readers.

In the United States, a large number of professional baseball players are from Latin America, especially the Caribbean. They usually come from very poor backgrounds, and many of them are black or mixed race. Sammy Sosa, one of the best players in baseball, is Dominican, and comes from a part of the DR with a large population of African descendants.

Sammy, despite his success, is no stranger to controversy: he was accused of (and found to be) using steroids, and was often made fun of for his poor English. I felt bad for him in both circumstances, considering how many baseball players use performance-enhancing drugs, and considering how difficult it is to master a second language as an adult.

But his most recent controversy is really upsetting.

Last week, Sammy made several public appearances in which his skin appeared visibly lighter, as well as using colored contacts. He was accused of using Michael Jackson-like techniques to change his skin color, and of being a racist rejecting his African heritage. He denied suffering from vitiligo, and claims that he chose to lighten his skin for aesthetic reasons using a special cream.

The magical cream, he says, is to help repair his skin from decades of sun damage while playing baseball. He also refused to say the brand or name of the cream, claiming the company had offered him an endorsement deal still in the works.

Behold:

Before I lived in Latin America, I had no idea about the depth of racism or how it affects people's daily lives, which is especially true in the Dominican Republic. It was there where I learned how people are classified by the exact shade of their skin (there are literally dozens if not hundreds of names), where people make excuses for being dark (claiming they are outside a lot in the summer, or that they play sports), where no one dares call anyone negro (black) unless they're Haitian. Being called black is the ultimate insult.

So this entire story was just horrifying to me, because I can imagine the repercussions in the DR and in the rest of Latin America, even in the US. The idea that a rich black man can lighten his skin because he feels it makes him "look better" has really heart-breaking implications. Given Brazil's obsession with cosmetic surgery and procedures, large black population and historic racism that persists but that few dare acknowledge, this product could potentially become a hot item in the Brazilian market.

Sammy agreed to speak to Univision about the change, claiming he wasn't a racist and chuckling through most of the interview. When asked if he's proud to be black, he says he has been since he was born, but "I want to look my best." O sea, being black is not looking his best. The interviewer, also black, who was trying to be a hard-hitting reporter for most of the interview, half-jokingly asked Sammy to give him the cream to try. *facepalm*

Video 1

Video 2

(These videos automatically start when the page opens when they're embedded, so as not to freak you out I put links instead)

Some will say that Sammy can do whatever he wants with his money. But this entire affair--especially if he starts marketing this supposed cream--is unbelievably irresponsible for a Latin American who is well aware of racial and economic realities in his country. To encourage other wealthy black Latin Americans to follow suit is to me, preposterous; but to market this type of product to those who can scarcely afford essentials isn't just irresponsible, it's cruel.

And Sammy--para que sepas, estás muy, pero muy feo.

New Series: Lessons from Colombia

Inspired by a new found obsession with Sergio Fajardo, I decided to start a series to show how Brazil can learn from lessons in Colombia and, perhaps, vice versa. Brazil, like the United States, is a world leader, especially in the region, and there's a latent disdain for other Latin American countries (and a lot less latent for Argentina) for being beneath them (similar to some Americans' ethnocentric mentalities). While Brazil looks to its neighbors for trade potential and as a helping hand during diplomatic crisis, it doesn't seem to consider them real peers. Colombia is still viewed as a cesspool of drug trafficking, responsible for feeding Brazil's own narco-trafficking problems, and Colombians in Brazil are often teased about being drug dealers.

But the truth is that Brazil and Colombia have a lot in common and a lot to learn from one another. Though they don't share the same language or colonizers, they do share a similar history and contemporary situation.

Brazil is the largest country in Latin America, with 8,514,877 square kilometers and the largest population in South America, with nearly 199 million people. Colombia is the fourth-largest country in South America, with 1,138,914 square kilometers and nearly 46 million people, the second-largest population in South America. Both countries had large populations of indigenous tribes living there before European colonization, and still have significant communities in rural areas. They also both had large numbers of African slaves who were forced to work the plantations and cash crop farms, some of whom escaped and formed independent communities (palenques in Colombia, quilombos in Brazil). While both countries are ethnically diverse, both have had a difficult time coming to terms with inequality and racism, which is what we're going to take a look at today.

Both Colombia and Brazil have affirmative action bills in Congress to decide if the government will impose racial quotas. In Colombia's case, the law would create quotas in universities, government jobs, and the military, with incentives to increase the amount of Afro-Colombians in political parties and corporations. In Brazil, the bill has already been approved by the House of Representatives, and is currently stalled in the Senate. But unlike Colombia's bill, Brazil's is much more limited: the law would create racial and socioeconomic quotas in all federal universities (although there are already affirmative action programs at nearly twenty government-run universities). The bill proposes that 50% of all spots at public universities be set aside for students from public high schools; of that 50%, half of the spots would be set aside for blacks and indigenous students, depending on the state's ethnic make-up, and the other half of the spots would be set aside for low-income students.

But both bills face a great deal of controversy. In the past in both countries, governments have unsuccessfully tried to "whiten" the population,  and later created measures to try to prevent racial discrimination. But in both countries, where the myth of racial harmony prevails, there is "structural discrimination" in which blacks make up the poorest and least educated strata of society, more vulnerable to health problems and with higher mortality rates. Though both bills are supported by black civil rights groups, not all blacks support the measure, since some fear would create more racial strife and enforce a separation of ethnic groups.

In addition, both countries have difficulty defining who would be covered by the law, since racial definitions are much vaguer than in countries like the United States. In Colombia's 2005 census, 10.6% of the population defined itself as black, but experts say that the number is probably around 26%, since some people of mixed race don't define themselves as black. If this were in fact the case, Colombia would have the largest black population in Latin America after Brazil. According to the Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics, 42% of Brazilians consider themselves pardos, or mixed race, and only 7% consider themselves black. Brazil has the largest population of African descendants outside of Africa, but many Brazilians dislike defining themselves based on race.

The other problem with the quotas is that some claim the bills have little to do with discrimination. In Colombia in particular, there are outcries of foreign influence, especially from the United States, since similar affirmative action programs were implemented there, and because the US Black Caucus plays an important role in trade with Colombia. In Brazil, some argue that the problems aren't related to race, but rather to poverty in general. In both countries, some argue that the law shouldn't focus on perceived "segregation," but rather on leveling the playing field with better social and economic policies.

In Colombia, the debate continues as the bill makes its way through Congress, but in Brazil, supporters of affirmative action received an important win last week. The University of Brasilia (UnB) already sets aside 20% of its openings for blacks, and was the first public Brazilian university to do so, in 2004. On July 31st, the head of the Brazilian Supreme Court, Gilmar Mendes, denied an appeal made by the Democratic Party to overturn affirmative action at UnB. The political party argued that the quotas violate the "constitutional right of human dignity" and the universal right to an education. While the judge defended the constitutionality of racial quotas, he emphasized the need to focus more on socioeconomic quotas, rather than racial ones. "In Brazil, it seems there is no distinction between whites and blacks, but rather between the rich and the poor," he included in his decision.

While both Colombia and Brazil's legislatures decide the future of affirmative action, they could learn from each other's experiences and debates. They have a great deal in common and as such, a great deal to offer one another.

You can also read this post over at LatAm Thought!

Why do Jews love Latin America?

I've given it a lot of thought, but I still can't put my finger on why Jews love Latin America so much. Out of all of my friends and the people I've met living in, traveling around, working with and studying the region, a significant percentage are Jewish.

This doesn't necessarily include Jews living in Latin America, since their ancestors chose the region for one reason or another, but based on necessity. It seems to me that some American and to a lesser extent British and European Jews have a particularly strong interest in Latin America, and are strongly drawn to it, more so than any other part of the world.

I've tried to examine why it is I was drawn to the region early on, and maybe other American Jews have had a similar experience. Growing up in a town with a very small Jewish population and a large Latino population, I was exposed to Latino culture on a much more frequent basis than Jewish culture (despite being put into Hebrew school), and the cool kids in school were the Dominicans. Instead of joining a Jewish youth group, I joined clubs at my high school. I hated going to temple; I would have rather been in ballet class.

It's not that I didn't not want to be Jewish, but I was more interested in culture than religion, and I found Latin culture a lot more attractive. This, I think, could be another key. Whereas a lot of Judaism focuses on the past and all of the trials and tribulations the Jews have been through, Latin culture seems to focus more on the present (despite an unhappy history, too). Jewish music is depressing; Latin music tends to be a lot more upbeat. Our most important holiday is a day of repentance that involves hours in temple listening to horrid horn-blowing, fasting, and sadness; in Latin countries, one the most important (religious) holidays is Christmas. We eat gefilte fish; they eat arroz con pollo. We have Purim for one night a year; they have Carnaval. Our "old countries" are in the frozen tundra where we were driven out by bloodthirsty men; their "old countries" have beaches and swaying palms (some do, anyway; and it's not that they don't have bloodthirsty men too, but it's easy to overlook that).

Are you a gringo Jew obsessed with Latin America? Do you have an explanation?