The Joys of Being an IndoAfrican

 I start of this blog with a quick reminder to everyone who hasn't read the other dreadful, odd pieces of writing that I do, to give it a quick read. Reason being that, one, it gives you an idea of the caliber of adventure I seek and two, it will help build context to this blog.

I decided to write this piece after having a rather fruitful discussion with a European colleague of mine about being non-white in a primarily white environment... Now, I know, you might be thinking here goes Naadir on one of his racist discussions again, but I have found that being a South African has truly made me very racially aware and open. Keep in mind the difference between racist and racial: Whilst racist usually refers to prejudice and discrimination, racial refers to grouping based on race. That was 5 years of Life Orientation class, in high school, in 1 sentence. Now, as a South African, I am not only blessed with the remnants of Apartheid (dark sarcasm), but I also have the joy of growing up in a multi-cultural/racial family.

Firstly, I am from the eastern part of  South Africa, namely KwaZulu Natal, which consists of  roughly  84% black Africans, 9% Indian or Asian, 4% White,  2% Coloured and 1% Other.  Yes, to all my non-South Africans, that's how we classify people in everything from schooling to job and university applications and yes, we have Coloureds, not mixed race, Coloureds! Basically a person who has one white parent and one black or in many cases these days, are of lineage mixed in race between European settlers and local Africans... The Dutch were definitely not only interested in spices! Other, refers to anyone who does not fall into the above category. Now, in addition to the diversity above, KZN alone will have English, Afrikaans, Zulu, Xhosa, Tsonga, Sotho, Swathi and Ndebele languages present throughout and in addition to the languages, the cultures that follow. I was fortunate to go to a public school that represented the above demographics and in addition to this, I was born into a traditional Muslim family, with a South African Indian mother and South African half White/Indian dad. I went to a Christian based school, had many Indian friends who were Hindu and spent a lot of my younger days with my white Afrikaner aunt. I ended up studying in Cape Town which is even more diverse and then, left to work in Korea and then China... Hence I have been quite fortunate to grow up around many cultures, languages and races and have come to understand that each have their habits and traits...(Some better than others for me!)

Racial makup of South Africa. Little purple mark indicates Naadir's home!

With these races come particular stereotypes (purely comedic), which I will probably get shot for saying, but this is my blog and I actually don't care! #JSon (Fake Asian that can't play piano!) I could say how Asians are good at math (just look at the American math olympiad team) or that black people can dance to anything and have the best physiques or that white people have good legs, achne and a good dose of privilege and that Indians like myself, well, we never got contact sports in our genetic make-up and instead were given a good dose of hair everywhere! But of course, I would never say any of these things... Instead let me tell you about a few cases where I experienced a lovely dose of   stereotyping first hand...

A refugee in Turkey:

After leaving China during the Covid pandemic, I was able, only to get a one way flight to Turkey (Sorry Erdogan, Turkiye!), where my great South African passport afforded me 30days of travel. After many splendid days of hitchhiking with local soldiers, truck drivers and a few friendly locals, the musafir (me (Musafir means traveler)) finally made his way to Gaziantep. Gaziantep is a UNESCO World heritage food city and yes, I can agree to this! It's the home of baklava, Katmer, Beyran Chorba and many other mouthwatering delicacies. It also sadly, has a lot of refugees given the present situation in Syria, Iran, Palestine and the general middle east...Thanks USA and NATO! My visa was coming to an end and given the Covid situation, I couldn't go anywhere else. In addition, I was really loving my time in Turkiye. I decided to go to the immigration office in Gazaintep, where I was greeted by a rather tall, well groomed Turkish man with deep green eyes, well combed hair and a thick mustache... I'm not gay! But if I was... The man then directed me to an office to speak to the immigration official: An equally beautiful woman! To all my Turkish friends reading, if you have any single friends, DM me @naadirvj on insta....

Our conversation went something like this:

Naadir      :  Merhaba, I am Naadir from South Africa. I am currently travelling in Turkiye and would like to extend my tourist visa here.

Official    :  Why?

Naadir    : I have really been enjoying my time here and would like to continue exploring

Official    : Why not explore your own country?

Naadir    : I've explored it for 25years and I can't go back because of Covid Lockdown so I want to see more of Turkiye or I will have to leave for another country, but I want to explore the black sea part of Turkiye near Trabzon.

Official    : Sorry, we don't help refugees here.

Naadir    : I'm not a refugee, I have a home, but I want to extend my legal visa and spend more money and time here.

Official    : We don't help refugees here.

I was about to ask her, "Do I look like a refugee?" When I saw my reflection in her mug and remembered the average person in the queue of Iranian and Syrian refugees outside...

I then decided to apply for a visa for Armenia. After not responding for 4 days, I called and asked if my visa had been approved... At this point Armenia was at war with Azerbaijan who was supported by Turkiye... The immigration office responded, "Your visa will not be approved, we are having some problems with mulsims from Azerbaijan" I responded by saying, "Then there shouldn't be a problem, I'm South African!" The phone was abruptly put down... Visa denied!

Naadir in his refugee state in Turkiye

An Indian in Netherlands:

For those unaware, most of Europe is going through a rather insane housing crisis! The demand for housing is far above the supply, inflation is through the roof and competition is really tough. To put it into perspective, you can view a house for 300K on Monday and an answer is expected by Tuesday. On Wednesday, you will find the house to be sold for 350K and upwards. The same goes for renting. It took me 7 months to find the shitty, sun-deprived, 1 bedroom place I have now! It has happened to me on two occasions where I have gone to view a property and the owner or agent has told me that they cannot rent it to me because I am Indian and Indians cook with spices and it makes the house smell and the smell goes into the wood and the walls! I mean... Fairplay. They aren't exactly wrong, I would love coming home, in South Africa, to the smell of my mothers chicken curry in the driveway! However, my dad is half white, so by Indian standards, my mom doesn't actually make spicey food! In addition, West African's, Indonesians and Moroccans including some Dutch legends also eat spicey food hence the issue shouldn't be not renting to Indians, it should be not renting to people who cook spicey food and don't clean. Also, maybe think about your ventilation, you ignorant clown! 

In addition to my rather tempting tastebuds, I am also not a big fashionista! I mean I can clean up if I need to or want, but don't really find a need to often. So on the regular, when the weather allows, you might often catch me wearing a pair of slops (South African word for sandals) and usually a random trouser and standard race giveaway t-shirt with my usual red K-Way jacket! I'm more of a what you see is what you get kind of guy or "functional dresser" as I like to call it. One thing I have noticed in the Netherlands and actually a lot in Europe is that poverty has a face... In this particular case, me! I recall a time when I was sitting on a bench in the tiny village of Neunen, (A village where Van Gogh used to live and did some early works) looking at all the inspirations that Van Gogh used for some of his earlier, less known works. I was wearing the stock standard, functional dressings, with a slight bit of stubble and uncombed hair. I was deep in thought when all of a sudden two young girls, tapped on my shoulder and offered me their half eaten fries and mayo and presented me with 5 euros... Now I have to admit I took the money and left the food! I mean i was a beggar to them whether I took the money or not so why not, but still! The image of a beggar or less fortunate or someone in need to them was me in my functional form...

An elder in Korea:

Whenever I travel, I find that I'm always interested in how people celebrate and a great way to see this is in the nightlife of a society. For example, in Dublin, there are tons of pubs with live, traditional music that people watch over a pint. In South Africa, people go out mainly to dance or jika or ipotsoyi. In Japan, people may also go out, but there is a rather distinct line between men and woman. In Saudi, women stay at home! and men sodo...(mmmhhh nevermind!) You get the the point (At least the Saudi boys do...)! Whilst living in Korea, I decided to check out the vibrant nightlife in Seoul, one of my all time favourite cities! Upon presenting my passport to the body guard, he refused me entry saying that I was too old! I was 24 at the time. He said that 23 would have been acceptable. Immediately after, my 33 year old blonde-haired, blue-eyed, colleague entered with no issue at all. So did my 27 year old, equally pail, Australian friend! Rather furiously, I asked the bouncer why he let them in when they were older? After realizing that, indeed, people of a different skin colour can be friends, he decided to re-evaluate his eyesight and rechecked my passport to which he said, "OKe OKe" and let me in!

A usual suspect at customs:

Ok, now this one, I have to admit I am slightly guilty of playing the part! It's no surprise that after 9/11, there has been a crackdown on Muslims worldwide especially when it comes to security! To aid this, I find that every time I enter an aircraft I start reciting Arabic quite loudly as a prayer of course, but for some reason I notice a lot of people starring at me with rather concerned faces! (Hmmmm not sure what they can be thinking of) I make sure to end my prayer with and exhale and the words, "Allah u Akbar" (God is great!).  Now for ''some reason'' having the middle name Mohamed, doesn't seem to help when I am at customs or immigration especially at US airports. When I have my Dutch colleagues with me, they seem to clear rather quickly, but for some, strange reason when I come through, it's always a "random check" or , "routine check" that always seems to happen to me. On a previous trip to the USA, two of my Dutch colleagues cleared no problem and even received a, "Enjoy your trip in the US" from the immigration officer. When I got to the counter, it was:

Officer    : Where did you come from?

Naadir    : The airplane.  (mistake number 1)

Officer    : Which country? 

Naadir    : Netherlands

Officer    : Where is your passport?

Naadir    : In your hand? (mistake number 2)

Officer    : Your Dutch passport?

Naadir    : I don't have one. I'm South African. I have also given you my Dutch residence permit

Officer    : Why are you here?

Naadir     : Business

Officer    : Show me your business agreement

Naadir    : Here it is   (Hands a stack of business jargon to the officer)

Officer    : It's expired. We can't let you in!

Naadir     : Please can you call the contact person mentioned on the letter, they can clarify.

Officer    : Don't do this again. (Hands Naadir the passport and documents and cleared to go)

Then you can guess it, a good old "routine" bag search for me.

Now, I dare not write this blog to vent or complain, but merely share with you all that the everyday reality for the everyday person is stained with minute inconveniences that just don't hold true for the reality we expect to see or believe we should be living in. I wouldn't live my life any other way, though a few less, "routine searches" would be nice. Having a rather "convenient" middle name or a bit of extra melanin is worth the extra learning for me.  To the people that say, it must be nice to live abroad and travel all the time. I say, we are lead to do the things that we believe are right for us? Nobody said that they would be easy, fair or comfortable. But tolerance, patience and understanding : Three simple things my dad spent hours teaching on the river bank back home, have certainly been my saving grace many a time!