Reading and Love Lessons from 'God Help the Child'

In a bid to escape everything I'm worrying about, I'm trying to read.

So I googled some books to read in your twenties, seeing as teen books are a bit hit and miss with me and I'm not ready to read about the monotony of marriage, and I've found a few that are interesting to me.

I'm starting with The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides which is so good already. The vocabulary has me a bit stumped but I'm especially enjoying it because of this. It's set at university which is already helping me to look forward to studying in Spain a little more (going back to uni is kinda daunting atm) and they're talking about places mentioned in Gossip Girl (which I love) like Brown University and the Upper East Side. It's all very exciting. I'm not sure I'll review it though. I feel like I'm in over my head with a lot of these novels. Like, I used to be smart but maybe I benefited from being in small schools with teachers that liked to focus on 'bright' pupils.

You can click this link for my book list so far http://scribbless.com/lists/list/315117

If you wanna keep reading this post, I'm gonna share an unfinished book review with you of an amazing novel I read. I couldn't finish the review for a number of reasons, (including the fact that the book is harrowing and Toni Morrison is such a phenomenal author) so forgive me if it's not up to scratch.

 

Love Lessons from Toni Morrison's 'God Help the Child' (A Review)

I really don't want to upset anyone so pay attention to the following trigger warnings.
TW: Abuse, sexual abuse, violence, racism

I'm not going to pretend this book was easy to read. It definitely wasn't and at times, I got confused at the point of it. It painfully discusses racism, colourism (the specific prejudice against darker skinned people within communities, like this Brazilian beauty queen, Nayara Justina) child sexual abuse and tumultuous upbringings. Many of the characters had been subjected to sexual abuse as children which was often written about in a way that surprised me, not exactly casual, but in a bored way like it was so common there was no build up or hesitation after a while. Like, 'This is what happened and this is why I'm fucked up now'. (This is not to say victims of abuse are a monolith, with the right support many recover well, the book just highlights how events in our childhoods can affect us in adulthood in ways we don't even realise as well as ones we emphasise).

So why did I even pick up such a heavy book? (Heavy as in difficult subject, not weight, the version I read was an eBook.) Well, I wanted to read a book by a black author and this book had a dark-skinned black woman on the cover so I thought it would be perfect.

It didn't quite work out like that.

I was repulsed by the colourism on the opening pages and the way the protagonist, Bride (Lula Ann), was treated awfully because of her "ugliness" by her lighter-skinned mother. Oddly (but rightly), Bride grew up to be considered absolutely stunning by everyone around her and she learnt how to use this to her advantage, but this didn't save her, which made the book heartbreakingly realistic.

The Love Lessons <3

• I learnt that there's lots of different types of love, degrees of love and that everyone thinks that their way of giving it is the best they could do, at least at the time
• Humans are strange. They treat other people how they think they'd like to be treated themselves but often it's the exact opposite
• Love is hard (maybe already knew that one)
• Time doesn't really heal. It just lets you move on, if you're equipped to

I'd recommend the book anyway, don't be scared or put off by anything I've said because the story, the twist and the impression the book leaves on you is immense and totally worth it. I'll definitely be reading more Toni Morrison books, one of them is recommended on my book list. Hopefully some of the other books I read will be just as valuable but a bit happier. I'll you know! Until next time, Antonia xx

Comments on how shit the British Government is

Being away from home means that I have to make a bit of an effort to engage in British news. Just a bit, I mean there´s internet here and I follow most newspapers that I read on social media, so the effort is really clicking and reading articles. Something I need to get into is keeping up with Question Time, and watching the Parlimentary debates that make me squirm with embarrassment. Honestly the jeering, avoiding the question and hearing the justifications for some of the most unfair policies is hard for a sensitive soul like me to handle.

That being said, I do actually love politics. I have no interest in being a politician, for many reasons, but mainly because I couldn´t deal with trying to be a good person and getting nowhere with it. MPs definitely have a hard job, perhaps not worth £74,000 per annum, plus expenses, plus a 1.3% pay rise that no one else in the Public Sector gets, but I for one could not deal with the public backlash to my actions, especially when I´ve tried my hardest to represent my constituents, so kudos to the ones that actually try.

This is not something I feel like our current government is doing. They´re not a true representation of what this country wants or needs and they´re so out of touch with the rest of the world, I feel embarrassed to have to claim it as my own. Our Prime Minister is particularly strong example of this and a hypocrite to boot.

So, why am I writing about this now? I remember voting for the first time in the 2015 General Election in Colchester. I hadn´t bothered to work out whether or not my vote would make much of a difference based on FPTP and the preferences of my constituency, but I was shocked that the Conservatives won, even if it was only by 7% (you can see the results for yourself here). I also remember feeling actual anxiety at the fact they´d won, knowing all the cuts that were to come. But it´s been worse than anyone could have predicted, unless you knew David Cameron was a liar from the start.

Mental Health Services

It´s like everything he says is underpinned by a cut in a services and he expects everyone to fend for themselves even while he´s cutting access to the services people need to be able to live to any kind of standard. Here´s an example from The Independent: apparently, mental health is a priority for Cameron, so he cuts already stretched services and once many people have suffered from such cuts, he makes a show of putting some money back into the system. It doesn´t work. People with mental health issues need stable services and the security of knowing that they will be able to get support when they need it. A 'mature' and 'open' approach would surely recognise that. Experts on the subject have been ignored and this stretches to other fields too, as we'll see when we talk about the next issue.

Next, I'll talk about environmental issues, student issues and equality. If you have any thoughts then don't be too shy to share. Until then!

Quick Thoughts on PoC Solidarity

You can see for yourself with the hashtag #notyourmule on Twitter. Franchesca Ramsey, of course, describes the issue in a nutshell:

It is important to be inclusive. I don't use racial slurs against other races and try my hardest to ignore the monoliths that in presented about other races. And while many non-Black PoC do address the issue of anti-Blackness (see here), others refuse to and still expect us to advocate for them.

There are so many examples of a clear lack of solidarity from other PoC except when they expect Black people to support their causes, or they speak over Black people (changing the #blacklivesmatter hashtag to whatever their race is, for example) but then treat us with the same contempt that white supremacy has told them too. 

My favourite example today was the hair shop. In the UK, Asian people (not Oriental but South Asian) own shops where we buy things for our hair such as oils, shampoos and conditioners that won't dry it out, and extensions, combs and hair pieces to create all of our amazing hairstyles. Think it's weird that Asian people own an industry that is fuelled by Black money? Well it gets worse when you realise that you're being followed around the shop as a Black person because you're silently being considered a potential thief. Or you're being offered absolutely pathetic advice on what you should buy for your hair that you have to dismiss as politely as possible. 

We know the people in the shops don't care about us or our hair - there's no such thing as good service in any of them. Of course there are some products for other ethnicities, but this is a Black experience in a shop that we specifically have had to go to for years and years to buy what we need to maintain our standards of grooming.

Anyway, it's depressing. If you want to be a real ally for Black people, remember that anti-Blackness goes further than white supremacy. After all, "there is no country in the world where it's better to be Black."

(I'm sure someone has said that last quote before me but I can't find out who it was!)

London ting (Au Pair Experience Día 22)

Met this girl from London fiiiiinnnaaalllyyy and it was totally worth the wait. We'll call her LG, I'm not sure if she wants to be baited out on my blog. I didn't realise how much I missed the familiarity of London until I heard her voice. I've spoken to people from home of course, but to have someone standing in front of me speaking London was just amazing.

We went to a cute bar that wasn't far from home and both of us were a bit late because we'd eaten with our families (can't really say no to Spanish dinner, if you're there when they're eating YOU'RE EATING). She knew the barmaid which was cute, especially as her Spanish isn't great, and we got drinks (I opted for hard liquor... Malibu and Coke) and the conversation flowed. 

Here are some things we bonded over:

Spanish people eat so much pork. Pork errday. Pork for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Ham, cured ham, Parma ham, sausages, in the soup, just everywhere. I'm trying not to go off it seeing as I still have a lot of time here but when I'm out I'm gonna opt for chicken, lamb, beef, anything. That's not to say we never eat anything else - we have fish often and chicken occasionally, it's just you can't get away from pork.

Personal space issues. This is physical space like walking down the street and people don't mind brushing past you or really even make an effort to move out the way. Outside school is just ridiculous (might be the same back home and I've just forgotten) but children will step on my feet and run straight into me and it's not really a thing to tell them off, just tell them to be careful. 

Also, there doesn't seem to be much time to just be by yourself. People don't sleep much here (I couldn't adapt to this even if I tried) and people seem to think of you have free time then it's just time to spend with other people if you're not at work. My family's pretty chill in every sense - if I take time for myself they don't ask questions about it, maybe suggest a place to walk or eat, and only ask if I slept well or had a good time while I was out. LG's family seem to find it weird if she takes time for herself and that would be so irritating to be constantly questioned about it, especially as a grown woman.

Intercambios. Yes we speak English, no we are not going to practise with every person we come across. I do a lot of language exchange with my host family and it's kind of exhausting for all involved.  I don't even have the energy for strangers and commenting on my not so great Spanish all the time is a bit jarring. I dunno what I expected, maybe I'm just in a bad mood and think I'm hot stuff cos I've made some friends now. 

Transport is shit. Going anywhere outside of this town without a car is so long. The bus timetable makes me want to cry: during the morning, I could spend an hour in the nearest city before having to catch the bus back home because there's one every 2 hours or something stupid and there are 4 trains per day. The train also takes the same amount of time to get to the city as the bus. And try getting to a surrounding village... Better pack your hiking boots!

Still, these are just cultural differences, new experiences and the reality of being anywhere outside London, let alone a small town. We wouldn't still be here if we weren't enjoying ourselves and London gets on my tits anyway. It's nice to be away from it to escape and appreciate it. 

So we had one of her friends join us and he was nice, if a bit problematic. Race kept coming up and up to now I haven't mentioned it much, if at all, but being black in Spain isn't without its problems. The curiosity about my hair is bearable, even enjoyable but that's about where it stops. I'm not gonna detail everything he said, even though a lot of it made me uncomfortable (and we called him out so many times) but it's not his fault, this ignorance is the prevailing attitude in Europe and has been for so many years. Just kind of burst the bubble. 

Anyway he was nice, funny and has his own flat which I was invited back to (LG practically lives there). We listened to music, made pizza and chilled with some cartoons. Then it was time to go home and sleeeeep. Being sociable is exhausting. 

Until next time (probably tomorrow),

Antonia xx

Weekends in the Wilderness (Au Pair Experience Días 15, 16 and 17, PartTwo)

This is a continuation of Friday:

My mystery friend had shown me exactly how the buses work (they're actually coaches here but you pay a normal bus fare) and just how infrequent they are. There's like a bus every two hours to get into the nearest city. As much as I moan about London, I need a good public transport system and some new places to explore.

As far as I can remember (which is not a lot #cfsproblems), not a lot happened Friday afternoon. I might've slept (between interacting with the kids) because I was awake all morning and lamented about not washing my hair or painting my nails. Probably cleaned my room and dreamed of Barcelona the next day. 

Friday night was a different story. Susana had picked the kids up and they'd gone to visit their mum for an hour so I thought we'd have time for a film before I went out but we didn't - I went out before they even came back. 

My mystery friend (MF from now on) and I met at her place though apparently I was meant to wait downstairs instead of going through the open door and catching her mum in her pyjamas (which were super cute but apparently embarrassing). She said I was dressed up (the same t-shirt from the morning and midi skirt?) but I'm glad I didn't keep my jeans on because we would've looked like twins. 

After excitedly announcing to everyone in the street that MF was my girlfriend whilst linking her arm I spotted our Irish wallflower outside the supermarket and invited her along. She has my number so I said she could text me and we'd probably still be out but of course she didn't which I wouldn't have minded if her SIM wasn't now working and she hadn't said she would. Anyway, we eventually made it to the bar that I'd sulked in last weekend and got a couple of beers, talked about the boys we love, uni, Balaguer, travelling and then got hungry. The €1 montaditos (small bites, little sandwiches) were tempting but I really fancied pizza so we had to find some. We looked at some expensive menus then wound up in her regular bar where she knows everyone, especially the barman who introduced us to his girlfriend who spoke English. 

So we had a 3 way English conversation and  so annoyingly refused his requests to speak Spanish except when speaking directly to him. Half a pizza (with extra olives on my half, one of which MF stole and I will not forgive her for) each later, the girlfriend eventually left and it was just us again. Apparently she'd been quite interested in me and excluding MF a bit which is noticed in my slightly less than sober state but thought it was just because I was the cool English girl.

Ooo I nearly forgot to mention that I got a bit anxious and didn't wanna go past all the men to the toilets (it was a proper rowdy men's bar, complete with a football table and thousands of men) Ali sat there for about 10 minutes making a twat of myself before eventually going. And when I did go, did I gracefully ask perdona and slide into the ladies? NO OF COURSE NOT. I BARGED PAST THE MANLY MEN AND FELT SO MASCULINE I WALKED INTO THE MENS AND ONLY REALISED WHEN I SAW SOME GUY STANDING IN FRONT OF THE TOILET READY TO DO HIS THING (so gross). Godsake, I fled and when I eventually plucked up the courage to go back to the ladies, another awkward encounter made it look like I was going to the men's again before I finally made it -.- 

Thankfully we left pretty soon after that ordeal. Some young black African men annoyed me by calling me beautiful negra so I told them to shut up. I wouldn't mind if one of them wanted a quick conversation or was genuinely interested but I knewwww from the moment I saw them coming towards us that they'd say something to me. They made us walk through the middle of them and mimicked our laughter before saying their stupidity and it put a dampener on my mood. You know when something's a compliment or an insult and this was definitely the latter. 

Back at Sulk Bar we got some more beers and this sausage sandwich thing which I'm sure bent my teeth slightly but it tasted quite nice. A good level of tipsy and another awkward encounter later, we walked home. Admittedly I was a little cold in my typically English night out no coat ensemble but it was a short walk and I got MF to walk me to my door. 

Honestly felt so good after that little adventure, making a friend and so happy to be going to Barcelona the next morning with my host family!

More to come,

Antonia xx 

When it's easier to be a feminist in winter

Sun on my skin,

Wind through my hair

💁🏾☀️💨

Forgot to shave my underarms...

Fuck.