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And then I passed this white couple who were just chatting. The
conversation went something like this: "Oh no, you don't have to worry
about that," he said. "Oh really, why not?" she asked. "Well, you never
have to worry about us losing Africa, because we own Africa," he boasted,
lifting an hors d'oeuvre off of the tray I was holding. The remark was
obviously directed at me. It was as if the whole scene, the tent, the
sashes, the grass-skirted woman, all of it was created to see what it would
do to us, the waiters.
Right then, I realized that white people have always needed and depended on Africans--that they need us in the deepest regions of their unconscious souls. They are connected to us more deeply than they can imagine, forever fascinated by people of color. And, in the middle of this evening, with its bizarre display of fetishism for Africa and all that is African, I had this terrifying vision that white people want to devour the African, swallow us whole just as the boa constrictor consumes the goat. Europe has savaged Africa for her resources, her animals, her wealth, and now this party was celebrating it, celebrating consumption with more consumption. |
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