Tag Archives: Stereotypes

I spy

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At Termini  station in Rome I just came off the metro and made my way to the ground level when a skinny, tall, lanky, big eyed Italian approached me. This guy -Fabio looked like Ichabod Crane Disney version not Johnny Depp. He asked me if i was a model. I told him nope just a Jamaican.  I continued to walk and he continued to talk to me. He asked me about Jamaica.

Side Note: Many Italians have no clue where Jamaica is. They do know where Dominican Republic , Brasil and Cuba are located , however for other reasons that I will share on another occasion. Anyway this is how the conversation usually goes except in an Italian accent.

Italian person named Fabio: Where are you from?

Me: Jamaica

Fabio: Jamaica! I love Jamaica

Me: Cool!

 Fabio: Where is Jamaica?

Imagine having this same conversation for six months. I decided to have a file saved on my phone and did the quick spread sheet  with a map , showing location, population, food, flag, where I am from exactly , agriculture .etc.

So after I get the routine   out of  the way, he told me he had been to England and saw  the Caribbean carnival  and thought it was wonderful! He was there learning English and asked if I could have a coffee with him.  So I did. We sat up stairs where there is a lovely view of train schedules and Armani ads.  I got a cappuccino and I sat and enjoyed it slowly. Fabio asked me many questions about Jamaica and the Unites States and I gave him answers to the best of my ability.

Then we came to the occupation part. He asked me what I do, I told him: an educator. I asked him the same : private investigator. Now the conversation became interesting. So I asked what type of cases he gets. Fabio said sometimes criminal and most of the time infidelity. Oh Italia! He told me this is where the big bucks are, watching  cheating spouses and naughty girlfriends and boyfriends. Apparently, money is no object when it’s about following a cheating lover. He told  he once followed a “subject” to this station and boarded a Trenitalia train to Salerno without a ticket. He had to hide most of the trip in the restroom to avoid the train agents.  I asked was it worth it? He told me yes she went to see her lover and spent the weekend.

Then to really get me going he told me he was following a “subject ” who was to arrive at the station for a 1:20 pm train. I said okay , well good luck. Then he went there….do you want to watch me work. I said no. He began to be persistent and pushy.

Why youdon’t want to wait with me ?  You have a boyfriend ?

 I said yes , he is from Napoli.

I learned that mentioning a boyfriend from Campagna region especially  Napoli makes unwanted advances diminish.  My friend’s nonna from Napoli taught me this. She said if a man is a man he will not be afraid of strong man from Naples.

Poor Naples has the worst reputation for no reason. It’s an older city. Some say the first state of Italy. It has it problems but so does NYC; people still live there.  Anyway when I tell people from the north of Italy I am going to Napoli the reaction is something like this…” You be careful there, people die there. Because only bad people live there. et …YES! people do say this.

Back to Fabio. Fabio’s big  eyes got quite bigger then he asked is  he is a very jealous man then?

Yes , I say VERY. You know how they are.

After these words left my lips , Fabio decided to leave me be. I thanked him for the coffee and continued on my way. I did look over my shoulder just in case he was following me…after all he is a detective.

Are you Chocolate?

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I teach English to Italians, mostly children. Recently, I have been working at a summer camp. I was playing with a few of the kids when a little girl, was staring at me from a far; I waved at her. I smiled at her. I asked her if she wanted to play. I waved at  her to come closer. She did. She took my hand and licked it. Then she said, ” You look like chocolate”.

Yes, I do look like chocolate and she was hoping I WAS chocolate. All I could do was smile. She was so amazed by my skin she lick it. Now she licks me all the time. I am her chocolate.  It’s a living. 

Here, I am called brown skin. Here,sun-worshippers ask to touch my skin. I was at first, a little weird about it but now it’s like brushing my teeth-a natural thing. It’s normal to be waiting for a bus, or to be  shopping and a lady to compliment me for my skin tone; like it is gold. Tanning is a full-time  occupation here , not a pass time. I am the CEO.

I live in Rome. I have been to Rome before on holiday usually only three days and then I would either head north or south (SUD) to stay with friends. I never had such a reaction to my skin before in any other region of Italy.  Rome is something.

I naturally assumed that people would think I am African.It is the most logical thinking, I thought. Nope. I am asked on a regular which part of Brasil I am from. In many cases people start speaking Portuguese to me. It never fails. I have told them I am Jamaican; which they say (in the same order every time).
                                                 JAMAICAN TOP FOUR/ FIVE
1) Bob Marley!

2) Beautiful Beaches

3) Marijuana!

4) Where is Jamaica?

and for the bold ones…..

5) Is it true the men have big penises?

I am at times a celebrity because of my skin. I am not sure why they connect me with Brasil but they do. When I ask  why , they say I look like Brasil. Go figure. So I look like Brasil ,except in this World Cup ( what was that; 7-1!!) When I  don’t feel like going through the Jamaica top  four/five , I just say I am American. They find me a little less interesting when I say this. 

I have been told by a couple Italian males; “that you are pure chocolate, I just want to eat you up!” (Date ends and I go home-alone). Being dark makes me stand out. I have never stood out because of my skin. I am not sure if brown people of USA could handle it but to me it’s fine. It is an interesting approach to dark skin.

Working at a summer camp , I meet many children fascinated and curious about my skin. A few actually think I am chocolate, which is fine by me. Others ask how many hours in the sun I spend to be so dark. They touch me like I am fragile silk turned into a sheer gown. In many cases, I think I was the first brown person they have interacted with. I like this. It creates a good first impression about different people. Naturally children don’t fear the unknown yet conditioning creates barriers-I have broken barriers. 🙂

I know there is racial issues here. I see it. African, Indian, Asians are treated differently in certain places. Despite how well dressed they are, how fashionable they are and that they speak more than one language. I have an American friend of Korean descent. When she talks they are surprised she knows English despite the fact she was born and raised there. In many situation when she says she is from USA, they ask, ” No, where are you REALLY from?”. She takes this in strides and with great poise despite how wrong this is.

An exception I have seen is beauty. Beauty makes people forget stereotyping, sort of. It’s not only men that are amazed by foreign beauty but even women. I went to an interview at a school recently, the director came in, she shook my hand, sat down and stared at me for a minute and said “You are beautiful”. Did I get the job? No, but she thinks I am gorgeous. Score one for me!

Older women have no problem telling a girl she’s pretty. The younger girls just look you up and down and give you a quick connection with the eyes as they walk pass you. Thus you know she likes your outfit.She just can’t say it.

Men do.They do just about anything for a pretty face. For instance, there is a bakery in my building. I cannot help it, I must eat dolce. When I arrive in the morning for my morning sugar rush, the owner has something for me -gratis (free). Why, because he thinks I am pretty. Even if he is not there , I still get a special treat.It is worth the weight gain.

I was waiting for a bus to go from the center of Rome to a place across the river Tevere, a bus that was not in service stop, for me. Usually a non-service bus drives past you with no remorse even on a rainy day. At first, I didn’t know what to think. He opened the door and asked where did I need to go? I told him and he took me. We had a nice conversation in my bad Italian. When I asked why he did this for me, because I am Bella. I had my own private bus; scratch that off the bucket list.

I am pretty chocolate. For kids I am fine with it. With men ..I keep my distance; this is the one biggest drawback to being pretty chocolate…every guy wants a piece (except my baker, thank God). So don’t be stupid and let the talk game fool you. In general, the men here act like a National Geographic program entitled “When Italian Males Hunt Foreign Girls” all that is missing is  Morgan Freeman’s voice.

I understand why the guys here like foreign girls, they can be easier. It’s true. As well, Italian girls are no saints, they just have a totally different way of getting their freak on; which can be more complicated for Italian males to conquer so they catch a foreign girl in the meantime as the crack the Italian girl code.
Until the love bug bites the shit out of me this chocolate knows the game and has manipulated the play-by-play.