One thing I am learning about this country is that the minute I think I have understood or become accustomed to something, I have an experience that upends it. A few posts back, I stated that I have stopped hearing calls of “Whitey!” so much. Perhaps people are used to me, got bored and moved on, I mused. I had also observed that women yell this at me very little, if at all. 

So of course, the past few days, I have had a resurgence of people calling out “Whitey!” to me. And several of those have been women. On Sunday, when I was running, a woman stuck her head out a car window and yelled it and the other day, it was a teenage girl in a uniform. This does not phase me anymore. 

Yesterday morning, however, was a little unnerving. There is a fellow who has seen better days (he seems to live in the sewer) who hangs out on the road that’s on my route to work. He usually yells something intelligible to passersby, and always has a few words for me. Yesterday he shouted something along the lines of telling whitey to go back to your country. 

If you have any interest in reflecting on the sensitive topics of race and gender, this country can provide a wealth of experiences. I do believe I am getting a thicker skin, but that doesn’t mean I have stopped thinking about it all. Just the opposite.