Finding Humour in Racist Ignorance
Who says one cannot find humour, albeit of a bizarre kind, in racism?
As incontrollable laughter wracked our ribs and brought tears streaming down our cheeks, my friend Helen and I were aware that we were drawing looks of interest from those around us.
Some were amused looks; others were envious, while others still, were looks of annoyance. These after all were the streets of Vienna (the stately and classical capital of Austria) where overt display of emotion was a thing reserved only to those “tiresome foreigners who have come to steal our jobs and deplete our social amenities.”
It was the tail end of summer 2008 and Helen and I had decided to avail ourselves of the fantastic items on sale at Mariahilferstrasse (the Vienna equivalent of Oxford Street, London). As we approached the entrance to the U2 underground station, we noticed an old woman – roughly in her seventies – struggling to carry a suitcase, a grocery bag and handbag, all obviously loaded and heavy with shopping. And so as befit two well-brought-up Nigerian ladies, we approached her and asked if we could be of assistance to her. She accepted our help and we found ourselves carrying her bags down the elevator, waited with her for the train to arrive and thereafter, helping her onto it. When she reached her destination – which was fortunately in the same direction we were heading – we helped her out of the train and still carrying her bags, escorted her to the exit of the underground station, at which point she informed us that she would be able to manage from there.
At the end of our “good Samaritan” venture, we were rightly expecting her to offer us a smile and profusely smother us with thanks. Well, don’t hold your breath for that was not at all what she did! Rather, with a dour expression she asked us where we were from and in bemusement, Helen and I looked at each other and simultaneously answered, Nigeria. She calmly responded “Ich wünsche ihnen Glück denn, als sie Nigerianerin sind werden sie beiden Glück sicher brauchen!“, which roughly translated means, “I wish you two luck then, since you are Nigerians, you will surely need it!”
As Helen and I stood there mouths agape, wondering if we had really heard what we thought we’d just heard, she daintily took her bags from us and calmly walked away without a single backward glance. As it slowly dawned on us that we’d indeed heard her correctly, laughter rolled like thunder in chorus from deep within both of us. We were too amused to be angry.
The irony of the whole incident was the fact that it was the two of us, two black women amongst the endless faces of the white and the familiar, who were humane enough to be bothered to offer her the help she obviously required. It was this realization which caused us to double over in mirth and stunned bemusement at the senseless logic of some supposedly civilized people. And this was the reason for our incontrollable laughter on this hot summer day on the streets of Vienna. It was hard enough to comprehend that a person could be so blissfully ignorant as to lack a single iota of a supposedly universal sense of common courtesy. To watch that person display such ignorance to the very people she considered beneath her in intelligence and civilization – and not realize how totally at odds her behaviour was to her claim – was the comic relief of a lifetime!
Sarah Udoh-Grossfurthner lives in and writes from Vienna, Austria. For more on her, visit www.sarahudohgrossfurthner.com
