"S*$T HOLE"

7 Sept. '10

        As my head swivels through the 48 rows of the blue comfortable seats on the KLM flight down south the Entebbe, Uganda, curiosity arises regarding the overwhelming majority of white folks on board. What is the collective force that drives these white people (myself certainly included) to venture to the Motherland? We are all clearly individuals, yet inquisitiveness strikes me. What number of these white individuals recognized or appreciated their white privilege prior to boarding the 737? Is the collective majority of whiteness on this aircraft aware of the historical underpinnings our ancestors have embedded not only on the Continent, but more specifically Uganda? Or, do most whites en route view our sisters and brothers on the Continent within a negative hegemonic framework as the "other"? Does an inevitable ethnocentric lens override the unconscious feelings of injustice associated with all of us white folks on board this jet? How many whites are journeying south to "help"? Help what, I wonder? Help those poor, desperate BLACK Africans?
       While relieving myself in the middle urinal of a meticulously clean Amsterdam airport restroom, I felt the eyes of a middle aged, white bearded fellow upon me. Amused that I was brushing my teeth while urinating, he commented on my creativity. Next, the disheveled dude inquired on my planned destination. Speaking through a foamy mouthful of Colgate, I replied, "Uganda." "Uganda...huh," stated the Danish chap. He endured, "I just arrived from some time in Nigeria, and that place is a shit hole." With those words, the gentleman wished me well, and I remained silent and puzzled as the white, bubbly toothpaste drooled down the left corner of my mouth.
       A "shit hole" I thought to myself. What constitutes a "shit hole" anyway? I imagine my personal definition of a "shit hole" may not parallel the overcrowded, dusty boulevards of of Lagos, Nigeria, the insecurity that comprises Nigerian President Goodluck Johnathan's corrupt political regime, or the blood oil that is ruthlessly looted by white Westerners from those whose homes reside above it.
       Does homelessness, human feces on the streets, sexism, poverty, violence, and chaos aggregate a "shit hole"? Or is this proposed "shit hole" simply a reality for our fellow human beings with dark skin oppressed and subjugated in an unjust global village? What about my white counterpart in that European restroom? Does his privilege offer him the opportunity to call unfamiliar and distressing areas "shit holes"?
       What about a manicured, suburban, white upper-class neighborhood in upstate New York where not a single blade of grass is misaligned in any yard? Could that place be labeled a "shit hole"? It is my ultimate hypothesis that the "shit holes" of Nigeria and those of the previously mentioned neighborhood in New York state are identical in that they do not exist. Both are socially constructed ideas in which humans assign a form of ambiguous meaning.
       While patiently standing in the customs queue at the airport in Uganda, a fellow older white, male passenger from Chicago ignited a conversation. After only a short bit, I learned that he was a missionary and exerted much enthusiasm to facilitate conferences in Uganda preaching the word of Christianity. Although I diligently searched for beauty in the fella, a loud internal voice uttered, "Oh brother!" Not a moment succeeding the man's reasons for entering Uganda, his 25 year-old white son, chimed in. "Yeah, we're just excited to help!" Again, I stood silent, nodded my head with an absolute flat affect, and internally fundamentally questioned, "Help who and Help what?"