Progress

Sometimes I wonder what would be more desirable: to be remembered as someone who stood up for her beliefs while perhaps offending some people and making enemies, or someone who stupidly nods and accepts unfavorable events that occur onto them?  I've been struggling this past year to find a good balance between the two.  I strive to be culturally sensitive yet uphold my personal identity and morals, which is easier said than done.  After all I am just a guest here, I shouldn't overstate my importance here.  I went to the post today to inquire about shipping fees. The post office staff brought in the boss who was an elderly man dressed in a blue jumpsuit, with a patch of the Malagasy flag on his breast pocket.  He came around the glass window and showed me a sheet with price listings of different countries.  He then proceeded to mock my accent by speaking gibberish, waiting for everyone in the room to laugh hysterically.  It's been a very long time since I had been insulted because of my Malagasy, so initially I was shocked.  One thing I've learned from living in a developing country as a foreigner is how to pick my battles. Initially I labeled this situation as not worth being upset over. I'm not sure if it was my already flustered state of breaking out in hives because of a fruit allergy, the massive migraine I was experiencing, or the pains that I've had in my abdomen for the past several days that prompted me to respond.  I told them that I wasn't leaving until I received an apology, sat down crossed legged on the bench.  Childish, I realize, but then I qualified my actions by stating that for over one year I struggle to learn their local language out of respect for Malagasy people just to be repeatedly insulted.  

"Your accent as a Chinese person is just so funny. Don't take it too personally.  We are having a great time with you.  We are not making fun of you," the post lady, who had a yellow argile mask on (as many Malagasy women put on to protect against the sun).  

"Please don't make assumptions about me.  I'm American," I show her my country i.d.

 "Hmmm...interesting.  I thought you were Chinese," as she continues to pull back her eyes, "since your eyes look like this." 

"look, I really don't appreciate it when you do that. That's offensive to me, just as offensive as mocking my accent.  American's are diverse.  My father is from Taiwan, but my mother is Vietnamese. They met in the U.S. and I was born there.  Physically yes, I am Asian, mentally (tsaina) I am very American," my tone of voice was calming down.

"oh look, I don't mean to offend you.  There was a volunteer before you in (a city 36 km from me) who was nice.  She laughed all the time, why can't you be more like that?" The adjective to describe someone as nice is the same word they use for simple or plain- tsotra.  Do they think I'm not tsotra enough for their taste?  Then I made a realization, I was having this conversation completely in Malagasy.  Perhaps this argument was superfluous.  

"I think that this is all a bit racist (manavakavana oditra)," I said perhaps being a big dramatic. 

"No, I am not racist.  Malagasy people are NOT racist."

"You're saying everyone? I'm an outsider so Malagasy people react to me in a different way than they would to you. So how can you speak for everyone? There are racist people in the United States who will deny that they are racist because they don't believe they are capable of it."

She gave this a bit of thought. 

"I'm just trying to explain my point of view and a little bit about how people from where I come from act in situations like this," I state. 

"I like that. I too am explaining the Malagasy point of view." 

Finally, a breakthrough! I've found that being able to express my thoughts in Malagasy to people who may not completely agree with me is so much more satisfying then passively accepting insults to appear amiable.  Because this way both parties can at least reach some sort of compromise or platform to understanding each other.  Most misunderstandings come from the inability to communicate.  This made me realize how poorly we communicate with one another even when being able to speak the same language.  So much of our  prejudice comes from half-formulated ideas and incomplete knowledge on a given subject. After this conversations, I understood why I slaved away one and a half years to learn this language, its to connect with other people!