Dear UK: Time to Head Back to U.S.

Disclaimer: Please don't use my words from my blog without contacting me first. I'm just saying this, because I had an incident with this issue two weeks ago.

Okay back to the entry, since I have been here I knew I wanted my last entry written in the UK to be in the form of a love letter, I got this idea from someone a few years ago when she said you should write a love letter to thing that you love, and not a person.

Dear UK,

It was love at first sight. I knew once I rode the dot to dot from the airport to the St. Giles Hotel that I would not want to leave you in December. From Day 1, you whispered to me "If you can make it here by yourself, with only God by your side, then you can make it anywhere." And from Day 1, I believed you, my heart said, "True. true."

Initially, I thought it would be easy, because at the time it was easy. But quickly you reprimanded me and said, not to take you for granted, since life isn't always a fairy tale of glam and glitz. Then you finally showed me why you're the baddest, toughest, meanest even though you are full of bright lights, glittery clothes, and posh people.

I remember the first time I cried over you, cried because I could not understand the functionalism of my school here, cried because when I left to see you, my grandpa left me to go to the Lord, cried when I realized people did not want me to get to know the real person, only the "image."

However, each time I cried you said, "Toughen up Bee. Wipe your eyes. It's a lesson I'm teaching you. One day you will look back and laugh, because you see the blessing was in disguised." Three deep breaths, followed by a prayer, then a nap and several Psalms later I was back ready to play, hit the streets determined not to be sent home running again or at least not for the same reason.

My last month I refused to countdown the days left before I would have to leave you. I just wanted to live everyday as if it would last. I keep thinking how will I come back, when will I see you again; me and you have developed a bond, I'm going to really miss you.

As I ride to the airport, I knew it wasn't good bye, just see you later.

So See You Later UK,

Love,

Bee

Thanksgiving UK Style

Of course, we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving here in the UK since that is an American holiday. Initially, I had planned to be at school for the thanksgiving holiday until my American friend in London called me and said her and her flat mate were hosting a dinner social. I decided to jet to London for the festivities of the night, even though I had to come back the next day for my seminar.

The next question what shall I cook. I decided I would cook a sweet potatoes pie. Since my friends in Cardiff had never had one, I decided to make two for them before I left. Well once I got to the grocery store I learned they didn’t sell pre-made pie crust, which meant I had to make my own from scratch. I stayed up all night making pies. Ultimately I missed my early morning bus to London. So I had to rebook to catch a later one.

Once I made to London that afternoon, I decided I wanted to go to Camden Market before I went to my friend’s house. The thanksgiving dinner started about 8 p.m. We had fried chicken, turkey, pasta, macaroni, cabbage, peach cobbler, mash potatoes, grilled Jamaican potatoes, and rolls. The food was alright. The peach cobbler was the best part. It seemed like the dinner lasted forever, since people didn’t leave the flat till 3 am in the morning. Being there made me wish I was at home, with my family, especially since I knew we would look at the ads after dinner and determine where what stores we would get up at 2 am for on Black Friday.

Now that I think about my thanksgiving, I realize I have so much that I am thankful for-God, family, good friends, the fruits of the spirit, life, and my growth & development as a young lady. I think sometimes we get forget that as long as we are living, there is always a reason to be thankful.

Quote of the week: “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.” -- Melody Beattie

Cheers,
Black Girl in Wales

Dublin Escapade

Last week I went Dublin for a few days. Here is an entry I wrote while I was there, but was unable to post at the time.

I left my journal at home I wish I did not. Unfortunately it was too heavy for my bag and for that reason I’m glad I left it at home (since my shoulder is killing me from carrying my bag all day with my laptop.

Yeah so I’m in Dublin tonight. I leave tomorrow to head back to Cardiff. My flight got delayed on Monday I was supposed to leave Bristol at 7 and get to Dublin by 8 pm. We didn’t leave Bristol airport to head to the Birmingham airport till about 11:00 where we took off at about 2 am. (The airport plane landing system was not working and since it was heavy fog outside, the planes could not see where to land in Bristol).

I didn’t get to the youth hostel till 5 am in the morning. Omg so the man says breakfast starts at 8 a.m. so I figured I would go ahead and stay up till then since I was hungry. Breakfast was quite disappointing. So I grab my things and out the door I was by 8:30, without any sleep for the past 24 hours.

I didn’t realize till I started walking that nothing was open. So I went to Tesco (grocery store) grabbed a morning drink and two pastries. Then I decided to go to Dublin I.T. University. I felt like my Uncle Ron as I sat there. I tried to go to the library, but was unable because I didn’t have an ID card, so I headed down to the student union, where I sat on a couch and took a short snooze. At about 10:30 a.m. I left the union, determined to make the most of my day in Dublin.

With only 75 euros left in my pocket, I knew I had to spend it wisely. So my first idea was to walk everywhere and not take a taxi. And that’s what I did. Needless to say I got lost a few times and my feet are worn out from the day, but it was not so bad since in Dublin everything is pretty much near each other. I think I seen enough of Dublin from the Dublin castle, city hall, river bank, various arcades. I know God has been with me since I been here down to smallest things like the lady charging me 5 instead of 9 or me going to gourmet burger expecting to pay 12 and only paying 9. I even bought my mom, sisters, and granny a keepsake and I still have euros left, which I intend to exchange to get my British Pounds back at the airport.

Now lets talk about the hostel, I learned hostels are definitely not for me. I did not like the way my room smelled, which why I haven’t had any sleep. I also did not like bed, I don't know it was something about it. I would rather fall asleep in a chair in the living room.

On another note my family does not know I am here, so I decided to mail them a Dublin postcard. I can't wait to hear their reaction. I know they will be surprised.

So I guess for the night you can say I am a black girl in Dublin. Overall jumping on a plane to Dublin feels empowering, because I came by myself. It's like I really have developed the 'I can do all things through Christ' mentality- It's a way of life for me over here. Certainly people say that scripture, but it's a difference between saying it, knowing it, and actually living it. Every morning I wake up with new obstacles no doubt it and sometimes they seem conquerable and other times they do not at first glance. But at the end of the day I know that whether the obstacles get conquered today or have to wait till tomorrow, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that it is conquered or I overcome it, not the when or the how.

Quote of the week: "When life gives you lemons make lemonade, but not just any lemonade. Make it sweet lemonade, then sip and laugh in the face of adversity."

- Cheers

Black Girl in Dublin

Taking a Stand Against Injustice

October 24, 2009 I participated in protest against the English Defense League (EDL), who is racist political party. The protest was held in Newport, Wales. I learned about the protest early that week when I signed a petition to stop racism, increase jobs and education funding. I rode the inner-city bus with some of members of the Cardiff University's Socialist Society. And no I'm not a socialist.

Initially I thought that going to this protest would make a very interesting experience. The protest was held in the city centre since the EDL was suppose to meet at a pub near by.

After arriving to the city centre, I was given a picket sign, which on side said "Stop Racism, more jobs and education" and on the other side read "EDL not welcomed here." Next I over hear the police saying the EDL will not show up, because of what happen at protest in Swansea last weekend. Previously, the EDL was ran out of the city literally. In my mind, I'm like wow this is crazy, this has to be what some of civil rights protesters felt like. Suddenly, my thoughts are somewhat interrupted by loud tunes of Bob Marley audio, "We are together. It's this love I'm feeling."

It was amazing how even though the weather was very rainy that morning, there still a great turn out of people. I seen people sitting on bare, wet ground sharing chips (fries) they brought from home. Then I heard drums and seen more people dancing like it was no one's business.

All the music stops as speakers come to platform and give anti-racism, fight for your rights speeches. They talk about how "we will not let the Nazis (referring to EDL, WDL, BNP) splits us." "They are trying to use minority as a scapegoat and blame us for the economic crisis." "In the 1960's it was the black people, now today it is the brown, Islamic people."

After several speeches someone sang a anti-fascist song. Then more talks about how the BBC News Network was wrong for giving racist politicians a stage on the talk show "Question Time." I would say one of the most interesting points someone made was "If you want to stop terrorism, stop anticipating it." It was only fitting that Bob Marley's "Get up, Stand up for your rights" would be played.

Chants of "Nazi Scum get off our streets," filled the centre. It was a beautiful thing to see so many people come together not just those whose rights were being threatened, but also others who just want to make sure equality is widespread. It was this very day that I took my first direct, public stand against injustice.

Quote of the week: “In Germany they came first for the Communists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist. Then they came for the Jews and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics and I didn't speak up because I was a Protestant. Then they came for me, and by that time no one was left to speak up."

-Martin Niemoeller

Cheers,

Black Girl in Wales

Land of Imagery

(written 15/10/09)

The week before last, I came to the realization that though Wales is known as the "Land of Song", London should be known as the "Land of Imagery." This term "Land of Imagery" refers to the people's character, personality. Its seems to me everyone has image or persona, which they portray to public. Most of the time when you meet a person, you don't get to know the real person, you just know the image. And a lot of times, they don't want you see them for who they are. Asking a few questions in a row are seen as a taboo or faux pas here.

At first I was so upset, because I could not understand why personification or imagery is necessary all the time. Certainly it's good in moderation, but if your lifestyle is centered upon image this can be problem not only for the person, but the people around the person as well.

Certainly in America, some people act like "larger than life", but in UK I think its safe to say people take it to another level. And even though there is a degree of Imagery, it doesn't seem like there is a fakeness vibe. Versus in America where when people have persona it can come off as being fake in some degree.

Recently, I had to sit down with myself and decide on how I would adapt. Questions of should I create an 24/7 image? Should I ever try to get know people for me for who they really are? Should I just try to steer clear of the idea itself?

They say "when in Rome do like Romans." Well early in October, I decided to try it. As silly as this may sound the transformation from 'Brandi to B' occurs when I put on my shades (sunglasses). While Brandi is very intelligent, sophisticated, introvert, caring, and serious. B is more analytical common sense savy, posh, extrovert, care-free, and nonchalant. It's like having alter-ego, which is actually quite fun at times and can give you an extra boost of assertiveness. I like the light-switch effect, being able to turn it off and on.

The problem always occurs when you want to get to know someone. I'm still dealing with this issue. I will keep you posted if I discover how to crack the code or if I just decide to give up on getting to know people.

Quote of the Week: "You have to know who you are for yourself."

-Cheers,

Black Girl in Wales

(p.s. the picture of the building is Bute Journalism school, which is I have classes here in Cardiff)

A Night Out in Cardiff

Though I had went out a several times in London, (had a great time) I hadn't not went out in Cardiff since school started. So last night I decided to go out with my flat mates in Cardiff. I decided to go since my mates had ask me several times before and I would always say no. Plus they said at Club Revolution they were going to play hip hop music.

We were suppose to head there around 8:30 so we can get in for free. However, we ended up not leaving out flat till 10:30 pm. In between that time I had thought about telling them never mind, but as soon as I got ready to tell them it was time to go.

When we arrived, there was a long queue. My flat mate Kristen and I queue jumped a few people. Once inside I realized this wasn't my crowd and maybe I should have stayed home. Though I don't have much of a problem with mix-raced clubs, I do have a problem with mostly white clubs. That night Revolution was definitely not my cup of tea. There were about ten minorities, only two of them (including me) were of darker-skin. Now I can go to class and be the only black girl/brown-skinned/the other and be fine, somewhat comfortable. But I can't go to a white club where it is suppose to be a social relaxed environment and still maintain some degree of comfort.

To mask my discomfort I put my shades (sunglasses) on. Immediately someone ask me why do I have on sunglasses in the club, since we are inside and the sun has gone. I just a forced laugh. (Normally at the Nigerian clubs, some people wear sunglasses. There is this sense mysteriousness, which is why i wear them. Everyone is somewhat like who is that) Sometimes you have to laugh at people's audacity, because it's not enough hours in day to spend time correcting people. That was the first thing.

Then I noticed that many of the girls were drunk or almost drunk. The legal drinking age here starts at 18. I don't drink period. To me drinking is just unattractive, not appealing. Now I don't have a problem with other people drinking, but please make sure you can handle the drinks.

Everyone was pushing and shoving as the wall by even though it wasn't necessary. All they had to do was say excuse me. We hadn't been for a hour yet and I was thinking to myself, 'Lord don't let me loose my temper, just let me stay cool, calm, and collected tonight.' I knew either the drunkenness, pushing, or someone stepping on my shoes had potential to upset me.

In addition to all that, I wasn't thrilled about the music selections. I like to hear a mix of American hip-hop, funky house, rap, rnb, afro-pop, bashment, and Nigerian Hip-Hop. That night at the club they played a tad bit of hip-hop mixed in with everything I don't like!

And then the un-forgivable happened. A girl spilled her drink on my leg. So now my one side of my stockings are wet with alcohol. The girl acts like she didn't spill anything (no apology). Of course, now I'm getting pissed out. I say to the girl you just spilled your drink. She just looks at me and throw her arms up in the air like oh well. Now I'm not a fighter, but I just wanted to slap some sense into her. Her friend sensing my rage pulls her away. I turn to my flat mate and tell her what just happen. As I'm talking the girl's friend comes up and says she didn't mean too. In my mind that is still the wrong response and in no way acceptable. Right then I knew it was time for me to go for sometimes else happened. I was never so happy that I had brought extra money to cover my own cab fare. Once I got back to the room, I thought to myself I'm not never going out in Cardiff again. Today is a new day and I have decided I will give Cardiff's night life one more try, before I say it's rubbish for people like me.


Cheers,
Black Girl in Wales

Internal Reflection: Caught between the Two

Wow it’s a new genesis, a new beginning, a new week. I understand that no two weeks, just like no two days are the same. Last week was definitely more of inner cultural reflection week for me. So you’re probably wondering what I mean. Well for me inner cultural reflections mean there were things that caused me to look at myself, look at my past, and revisit my history in a way I had not looked before.

This week I found myself wishing. I wished I could speak an African language. I wished I knew my African ancestors, my lineage. I wished I had opportunity to visit at least one country in Africa. I wished I knew how to cook some African dishes. I wish knew some African dances and had African name. I wished I had been exposed to more African people in America. The list of wishes could continue on. But I think my greatest wish was that I wish my culture, my heritage had not been stolen from me or lost in the lost in the Atlantic. One thing I find that many Americans say is that Africans (in general) come from poor country and that black Americans have it better in America. I will tell you one thing though some of them may be poor my in material wealth; they are rich in culture and spirit. That in many ways can make a lot of difference.

Really, what started for my inner reflection was my many conversations this week with Nigerians of the Yoruba tribe. Here some examples of what people said to me this week and my responses (the italics means I am on speaking):

- Where are you from?- I’m American. No, where in Africa? Oh well my father’s people are of the Mende people of Sierra Leone.
- (me talking ) What did you eat today? (person responds) I ate Nigerian food. Like what kind, what does it consist of it? You do not know it, it’s Nigerian, you don’t know.
- Try to talk with African accent. I cant.
- You are too Americanized. Excuse me what do you want me to be I am American, that were I was born, that’s I was raised. No I don’t have an accent, no I don’t speak an African language, no I can’t cook your countries food. No I don’t have African name. No I don’t know where all my ancestors are from. What do you expect, you are talking a Black American. I can’t help it that I was my roots were lost. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Here I will give you an African name.
- Have you been to Africa? No, not yet. Why not? Because of the costs and timing. It’s not that expensive to go. You can go in December with me, before you go back home. I can’t. It’s definitely something I would love to do one day soon though.
- Where are you from? The United States. Oh what Island? No I’m actually from the U.S. Oh okay you look Caribbean.
- I thought Americans were loud. You are pretty quiet.
- Where are you from? The States. But you are Black? hahaa. (me no response after that)

I’m sure some of you may be thinking what that’s crazy or Africans never like black Americans. But please don’t misjudge them. Many of them meant no harm by their questions or comments. Certainly there were some people well really just one person who was messy or tried to be funny, the Lord intervened and left me speechless with no comment when this happened. Despite misconceptions and the differences I still have love and admiration for African people as a whole and still enjoy hanging out with them while I am here.

Please don’t get me wrong I am proud to be Black American, but here has made me realize that I am missing something even if it’s just a small piece and that may be I should learn more about various African cultures. I imagine this how is how a lot of mixed (people of two races) feel. It's like you know for some white Americans they view black Americans as not being American enough. Then when you go around some Africans, they you are not African enough. Many people won't say this, but in a way at times you want to be accepted by both or at least one. You want to feel like you belong. In essence you are caught between the two

Today I thought to myself how the U.K. in a way is a best kept secret. People come from everywhere to see the attractions such Big Ben, London Bridge, the Queen’s Palace and many more. But the secret is the United Kingdom is more than tourists’ attractions or fish and chips. When you truly leave tourist’s stuff and begin to emerge yourself not only in the United Kingdom Culture, but in the multiculturalism of the environment itself. You see a glimpse of how wonderful and diverse the world is and ultimately it allows you to open up your eyes to a new genesis.

I feel like I may be inspired to write a poem soon. I will be sure to post it when I do.
This week quote of the week was inspired by my Cousin Dr. Koura, Skype status message. The quote is “ I have freed thousands of slaves. I could have freed more, if they knew they were slaves.” – Black Moses Harriet Tubman

Cheers,
Black Girl in Wales.