This morning after I finished yoga a cleaning lady began sweeping the floor. I can speak enough Bahasa Indonesian to have a small conversation. I greeted her and told her she is beautiful, and her sarong she is wearing is beautiful. She replied stating that she is not beautiful and that I am beautiful because my skin is white. She compared herself to me with an outstretched arm saying… my skin is black. I told her my skin is destroyed in the sun. It gets red and I get freckles everywhere. I stretched my arm out showing her my freckles.
She then stretched out her arm again and pointed to a group of four or five freckles she has on her wrist. Next, she pulled down the collar on her shirt to show me more freckles. She when on to describe her day. I get up early morning and came here. I wash and clean until afternoon then go to the “sawah”, (rice field) and work until dark. She gestured similar to casting a fishing rod with both arms, as she described working the sawah. Her face and eye brows furrowed during her description. I told her I live in Singapore and am teaching there. We both sat down to talk. She said that is a very good job. I told her about the smoke covering Singapore so it makes it hard to breathe. She knew about the burning forests.
Directly afterwards, I felt happy that we could connect in a small way. I know all too well of the rampant opinion in Asia that white skin is better in every way, visually and social status. Her skin is not black but a warm cinnamon sienna. I’m very aware of how I am viewed. (I’ve been living in Asia 14 years) I counter-act this stereotype as often as possible includes a range of means from small impact to larger impacts. Small impact for me is to reach out, share, listen and give respect. Acknowledging someone goes a long way. Diverse ethnicities mix and interact in Singapore but a mix of economic classes do not mix. I try to mix with people from all economic classes but for this I’m looked down upon by my university and the social group I’m “supposed” to be interacting with. To give my students a socially challenge and transform their narrow perspectives I conduct one of my painting classes in a dormitory holding 7000 migrant workers. The students are quite clear that they think they are “better” than these men. Each student paints the portrait of one of the workers. They men are working sometimes 7 days a week and always 6, so it is not easy to get time with them and I have to go through a system of approvals. The students and the men have the space to talk the whole time. I see them laughing. Actually, the students and the men have a lot in common because neither of them are free to make their own decisions. I’ll discuss more of this later when I take the students there is a few weeks.