N-Word in Thimphu

When Francois Hollande ran for President of France in 2012, his campaign tapped into a sore spot in French politics-race relations.  In a broad appeal to the often neglected and disparaged African and Arab communities across his nation, he ran a spot on French television with him on the streets and in public transportation shaking the hands of various minorities. The imagery was on-point but the choice of music was not--Jay-Z and Kanye West’s “Niggaz in Paris.”  Yes…Hollande lifted this American rap export and no… I do not believe he understood the lyrics.

What does this have to Bhutan? Well when American culture, especially media portrayals of Black America is exported overseas, I suffer. Last week when I was walking to the “Himalayan School of Music” (which has one of the few keyboards in Thimphu), my mind was far from Jay-Z. I noticed a group of a dozen teenagers loping down a hill just before me. They crossed the street ahead of me and I passed them by. Just above the din of their banter and boasts, I made out the word ...  the infamous word,
the word that was buried in Detroit several years ago, 

no, not this word but this word. 

Again, it was repeated, this time louder for me to hear. So I did what any black person, who was alone, and out-numbered in the Himalayas would do …  I invited them to my side of the road, sat down and spoke to them.

                “What’s your name?” I started systematically from left to right and got everyone’s name. Not surprisingly, they all had the most common Bhutanese names:

                “Sonam”

                “Tshering”

                “Ugyen”

                “Thuji”

                “Wangchuk”

                “Dorji”

                “Pema”

                “Karma”

                I shook some of their hands and introduced myself, “I’m Yannick. Yannick Wood. My name is not [http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nigga]. If you were in the United States and you said that to a black person you would get in a whole lot of trouble.”

                “Do you have weed?” A 16-yr old right in front of me asked. To insure I understood his q uestion, he put a imaginary blunt to his mouth and took a puff.

                “No. Of course not. Where did you get that idea from?”

                He responded, “Hollywood. In the movies black people smoke pot.”

                I explained to them that they cannot believe everything they see on TV especially through movies. I could see and hear the wheels turning in their heads as they contemplated my response. We concluded our discussion and they went on their way. One of the teenagers apologized to me and left. With this experience fresh in my mind, I proceeded to the music school where I jammed with another Bhutanese teenager to none other than “Hotel California” (this was not my song choice). For better or for worse, these cultural exports are here to stay.

"Bridging" Cultural barriers

                In a very timely CNN article, several minorities who live and work in China divulged their experiences. Like some of these individuals, I have been the recipient of epithets but not all of them are bad. Sometimes I’ve been called Obama and other times Didier Drogba, an Ivorian soccer star that plays for the Shanghai Shenhua team. It is almost as if when they see black, they must immediately cycle through all that they think is black and then immediately draw upon these stereotypes. As our world gets more connected and Black Americans increasingly travel and work overseas I’m sure similar encounters will occur. These encounters are often tense, and sometimes humiliating but we should look at them as "teachable moments."