By Alexa 
Sometimes, when two worlds collide, it can be a messy situation. Cultures have values like people and when two people from various cultures end up in the same room, egos can become upset and there will be issues.
It really isn’t pleasant when it happens. It’s more a of a situation where I am confronted in a huge way with the fact that the way that they I see and experience the world is completely different from the way they see and experience the world.
In France (pre-pandemic) it was culturally acceptable for people to get into other people’s personal space. In America, if you can avoid it, you tend not to invade the personal space of strangers (unless you’re mentally deranged). I had people that would touch my hair and I’d have to set a boundary and tell them not to do that.
In Senegal, I walked outside in spandex shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top. The looks I was getting from guys as I walked up and down the street was disbelief. I walked around the corner to a store where the clerk tried to get my number. I guess the way I was dressed suggested I was loose in their eyes. It can be hard coming from California which, in my mind, is a liberal and forward-thinking place. To step into certain cultures where that’s still a popular idea was a bit uncomfortable. I’ve had this happen not just in Senegal but in many places, including some in the United States.
I simply went back to my Airbnb and put on clothing that covered most of my body. It wasn’t the most pleasant for me since Senegal at the time was extremely hot. The only thing that made me respect the modesty is that men are expected to be modest in showing their bodies as well. Men and women alike walk around fully covered in Senegal with maybe just their arms showing. The women are usually in dresses or pants and the men tend to walk around with jeans on. The only exception I saw was at the beach or if some type of strenuous activity was involved. The equality of it that made me not mind.
In Martinique, I was introduced to a local Martiniquais man by my “roommate” in Martinique. The self-hate was off the chain. At one point in an evening where we were playing a game and we supposed to be having fun, he started mocking me and my culture, calling me a “nigga” but it really sounded like there was a hard –er attached. A local Martiniquaise woman that I was there with had to tell him to shush, but she explained to me that in Martinique they have derogatory stereotypes about African-Americans. I wasn’t raised to have a negative view on blackness so it was very uncomfortable to me experience this very black man behaving as he wasn’t just that.
Later, after talking to many people who have traveled to various countries in the Carribean, it seemed like a hit or miss when it comes to this sort of thing. Sometimes, black people encounter a lot of hatred and self-hatred from other black people, other times, it’s all love. It just depends on the island.
While I was also in Martinique, I met a study abroad student from Switzerland. He was very weird, rude, and hateful, asking me if many Americans come to Martinique and if so, why was I there. His line of questioning was strange because he was talking as if he wasn’t a foreigner visiting a distant land as well. I think it just boiled down to go ole’ racism because nobody had done anything to him for him to behave with that level of hostility.
Cultures and ideas collide. When one travels abroad, this is simply what is going to happen. I just allow the incident to inform me and how I move around certain cultures and people from that moment forward, never take it personally, and never let it throw me or ruin my vacation.