One of my major goals in life has been to avoid attention, although I haven’t been very successful.
All throughout school, I sat at my desk in the back of the room and took notes during class, without talking to anyone. I never raised my hand to answer a single question, and one of my teachers called on me one time during my 20 years as a student. My focus was entirely on getting an excellent education, so I studied during my free time and spent hours on homework. I managed to stay away from the spotlight until the end of high school, when my good grades accidentally attracted unwanted attention.
I also tried to dress as inconspicuous as possible, wearing dark colors and simple clothing, but I guess my style was “too cute” in the opinion of cashiers, waitresses, and clothing store workers. Again, I failed to remain invisible. They would comment on my “cute” outfits and I never knew what to say. I didn’t design the clothes or make them. I just found them at the store and purchased them.
But for the most part, no one bothered me or talked to me when I was running errands, going to the gym, and living life. I did my best not to draw attention to myself.
Until now.
I expected the Dominican children in Mariano’s village to look at me because few Americans pass through my boyfriend’s neighborhood. I understood why they stared at the first American they ever saw in real life.
And I knew I was moving to a country filled with friendly and social people who value relationships. I was prepared to talk to anyone who was friendly. I thought I was ready. Of course, I was wrong.
Nothing could prepare me for the constant staring.
When Mariano and I walk down the street, 70% of men, women and children stare. Like actually stare. Not casually glance at us or glimpse for a moment before moving on, but fix their intense gaze on us for as long as possible. A guy on a motorcycle will turn his head completely around to stare while continuing to drive forward, and I’m surprised no one has crashed. People walking toward us on the street will watch us until they pass. Even then, some turn around and keep observing from behind.
Mariano says they are staring at me, not us, yet I’m not so sure. Either way, I draw attention to myself simply by being white and there isn’t much I can do about it except try to ignore it.
However, it’s nearly impossible to ignore the comments which occasionally accompany the stares.
“He has what I want... An American...”
“He is so lucky! I want a Gringa…”
The comment I have the hardest time ignoring is, “coffee and milk.” We hear this one the most because his skin is the color of coffee and I’m literally as white as milk. Except we don’t even like coffee! I have never so much as tasted coffee because it smells like death. Mariano doesn’t drink it, either. I have been tempted to respond that we are not “coffee and milk,” we are “chocolate and milk,” but I haven’t said anything. Yet…
Never in my life have I had so much attention directed at me, all because I was born in the United States. And it probably doesn’t help that I’m the palest of the pales. My skin is whiter than most Americans’ skin who venture into the sun from time to time. Also, standing next to Mariano’s dark complexion must make me appear even more blindingly white. In any case, I’m failing miserably to stop others from noticing me.
I realize that they aren’t exactly looking at me. I usually wear a hat and a face mask so they cannot see me. They are really staring at my skin, or perhaps the glare from the sun reflecting off my white arms and legs. Either way, they don’t see me, they only see an “American” or “Gringa.” Perhaps it’s time to give up on my impossible goal and somehow use this attention for good.
I still have no idea why they stare. The Dominican culture doesn't compare to the culture in America. It's a beautiful culture. It's peaceful to live a simple life without so many distractions. I would rather live here where people spend time with each other, help each other, and love one another, than live in a fast-paced society where most people are too busy to think about anyone else. I prefer a culture that emphasizes community rather than individualism.
Dominicans are the ones who are resilient and strong. They put their families and friends first, before everything else. They help each other without expecting anything in return. Kind souls help me cross the street when I stand at the curb for five minutes, unsure of when to cross through traffic safely. They know what is important in life. They know what really matters and I hope to be more like them.
They are the ones who inspire me (even though they give me too much attention).
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