Lessons on diversity

Interestingly enough, one of my most poignant memories from my last week in Spain is one that demonstrates quite clearly the degree of diversity (or lack thereof) present in Spanish society. Always the one white (and often only girl) with all the Senegalese guys, I suppose I had gotten used to the looks of curiousity, surprise and often disapproval.

These looks were only increased when I would regularly go out to run along the beach with two Senegalese friends (both men). A woman doing sports? [GASP!] A white woman running with two black men? [DOUBLE GASP!!] This particular night, however, it went beyond looks of curiousity - we had photographers following us. The first time we saw them, we thought they were taking pictures of us, but weren't quite sure; but then, by the time they reappeared three more times along our path having advanced on bike, we were quite conscious indeed that we were the subject of the evening's photo shoot and broke out laughing. Picturesque, isn't it? Palm trees, ocean, sand, and the 'symbolism' of integration with a white women running between two black men. How quaint.

Adjusting to Geneva, then, has admimttedly been interesting in the sense that I feel I am now accutely aware of just how much cultural and religious diversity co-exist without hardly receiving so much of a head's bob of acknowledgement. The common site of women in their all black burkas peeking out only through the hole made for their eyes don't attract any attention at all ... in the same way that no one seems to think twice about the melange of colors, languages, clothing, etc that is seen everywhere from the schoolyard to the bus.

Speaking three, four, five, even six languages is by no means uncommon and everyone is so used to listening to a thousand different accents that no matter how bad your French might be, you seem always to be understood. And the typical ice breaker question "So where are you from"?? It's really a joke, to be quite honest ... most everyone has lived in a million places (and half the time you've never even heard of their country, though you certainly won't admit that in public), begging the question why do we almost seem to feel an unquestionable need to know where everyone is from? Will there ever be a day when we can all just be happy with calling ourselves citizens of the world?