I absolutely love to travel. When I boarded a plane for my first overseas trip in 2000, I had not considered what it meant to travel as a black woman. As a matter of fact, I did not consider it at all until years later after I had visited several countries. I was naive to think that the rest of the world would see me differently than how all races, including my own, viewed me in the United States. I would later discover that when I crossed international waters, I did not leave behind the rank I was born into as a black woman in the US or the outward racism that black and brown people face every day. During my travels, sometimes being an American trumps being black, but my blackness is the first thing people see. So, it is the first thing people judge me on.
Since my first trip, travel has become my passion and in one way or another it has taken up a lot of space on my bucket list. Before COVID-19, I traveled to a new country every year. And, with age and experience, every time I set foot on foreign soil, I have a few things running in the back of my mind. How will they receive me as a black woman? What will they think of me? And, will I be uncomfortable for the duration of my trip?
Why now?
You may be wondering why am I talking about this subject now, especially since my blog is focused on my bucket list and solo travel experiences. With everything going on in my country concerning race, it is hard to stay silent about how race has impacted my travels. While the dominant race in the US has a long history of trying to keep everyone in their place, almost every country has also had some sort of system to rank its people. In many ways, those systems may not be visible to those who are not regularly affronted by it, but they are there. For that reason, I am sharing my travel experiences through perspective. I want to highlight that there are constant reminders about where people THINK you should stand or rank in society no matter where in the world you are.
Africa
Sundowner at Amboseli National Park
I had the privilege of living in Africa for a few years and I have been to at least a dozen African countries. My most troubling experience traveling as a black woman has been in Sub-Sahara Africa, particularly in Kenya where I have spent a considerable about of time. I first want to say that I loved my time in Kenya. It is one of the most beautiful countries on the planet. And, I would return anytime I had the chance. However, this country still has a considerable amount of European and Indian ex-pats. Many of whom treat the Kenyans poorly or in a belittling manner.
In general, I blended in well into Kenyan society as long as I kept my mouth closed. So, ex-pats were always shocked when I rejected how they treated me or even called them out for their behavior. Kenyans are a strong, hard-working, and successful group of people. So, I am generalizing when I say that it is sad to see Europeans and Asians treating such amazing people as only worthy of serving others in their own land. I certainly did not appreciate Kenyans and ex-pats alike generally assuming that I was the driver, maid, or domestic help. I think that is a dark reflection of colonization.
South Africa has its own troubled past with decades of Apartheid. During my travels there, my skin color prompted a deep conversation with some South Africans who wanted to make sure I understood the difference between colored, an acceptable term in South Africa, and black people. I am not exactly sure what were their intentions. But, by definition, they were colored and I could not help but feel like they were trying to make sure that I understood my place in South African society.
Asia
I have had mixed experiences as a black woman in Asia. Asian societies in general are more homogenous. So the few times I have traveled to Asia, I have expected the worst. Most of my worries did not come to fruition, but I think that was probably because cultural norms would not have allowed for it. And, while I am sure that Afro-Americas vacation, work, and live in Asia, I assume it is not at all on the same level as in Europe. It definitely seems like an anomaly for Asians to see people of color walking their streets.
I was most terrified to travel to Japan. Particularly, I thought I would feel out of place or be the center of negative attention. Japan is a very artistic and colorful country, but you cannot always tell. Walking down the street, no matter rain or shine, you will see a sea of people dressed in dark clothes, with dark hair, and umbrellas with one of three colors. I had heard stories of Japanese restaurants turning people away because they were black. So, I begged people to go with just because I was afraid people would treat me the same. However, Japan was awesome. If people felt any negative thoughts towards me, they kept them to themselves. My natural hair fascinated and amazed them, but I could understand why. Natural hair IS amazing.
My experience of traveling as a black woman in Vietnam was slightly different. First, I want to say how much I enjoyed my travels in Vietnam. I based in 4 cities and each place was cool and had their own unique twists. My friend, who is white, traveled with me. She is a fantastic travel partner and this was our third trip together. But, I am the planner and she is more of a fly by the seat of her pants kind of person. So, I planned, booked, and paid for the entire trip. That meant everything was in my name, yet somehow that did not matter.
The Vietnamese deferred to her almost everywhere we went. It did not matter where or the context. If I asked a question, they turned to her to answer it. And, if I asked for the bill at a restaurant, they brought it to her. We started to make a game out of it just to see what would happen.
My skin color was also the topic of a few conversations. Some described my skin color as “strong,” which I took as a compliment. While others talked about not wanting to get dark in a slightly embarrassing way. I really did not let any of it bother me, but I think it is a shame to have these experiences halfway around the world. Even if to some, these experiences seem insignificant,
Thien Mu Pagoda, Hue, Vietnam
Europe
Honfleur, France
Traveling as a black woman in Europe has been varied. I have visited the continent more times than I can count on my hands twice over and I love it. However, our European friends are the cause of a lot of racism around the world. Their ties to and their implementation of slavery around the globe are unmistakable. They have purposefully divided tribes, mistreated dark-skinned people, and pitted neighbors against each other. These actions have left its mark on Europe too.
Discrimination is real and overt in many European nations. However, the only place in Europe where I have really felt out of place was in Croatia. I spent two weeks in that beautiful country and they reminded me every day that I was black. I understand that not many black people live or vacation in Croatia, but it was a bit much. People called out to me on the street, pointed at me, and whispered as I passed by. There was not a single day during my two-week trip where Croatians did not harass me because of my skin color. It was exhausting.
South America
The last experience about traveling as a black woman that I want to share is in South America. To be honest, it has been six years since I last visited South American. The continent is full of brown and black people. So, one would assume they are more open to and accepting of people of color. As a matter of fact, many people from South America would claim that racism is only a problem in the United States. Instead, I believe racism is slightly muted and takes on a sometimes less overt form.
In some countries, there is certainly a distinction between whites, Mestizos and Morenos. I spent two months in Chile several summers ago. Okay, I was in college, so it was many summers ago. I was poor and the place I had planned on staying at for the duration of my trip fell through. So, I not only had to find a place to live but a job to pay for that place.
I was shocked that Chileans required people to include a picture of themselves on resumes. That made it easy for them to discriminate against people based on looks, to include the color of one’s skin. I had to find a job where they paid me under the table to teach English to kids. Two of the kids were from Bolivia and were the same skin color as me. The Chilean boys picked on these two Bolivian boys all the time, calling them ugly because of their skin color. Besides those poor Bolivian kids, other Afro-Americans, who spent significant time in Chile, and I were picked on in one way or another.
São Paulo, Brazil
