Do touch my hair

by Siyabonga Mahomba (South Africa)

Making a local connection South Africa

I have never seen so many white people before. All around me, thousands of white bodies clad in rainbow-colored summer clothes are happily parading in the same direction. As if to imitate my reaction, I am met with awe and fascination in most of the faces I lock eyes with. The faces are glistering with pride and joy as rainbow flags fly above their heads. Silly me; why am I surprised? This is Europe, the land of the Caucasians. My shock is immediately redirected. I have never seen so many members of the LGBTQ+ community walking in unison, displaying their affection for one another and freely expressing their queer selves out in the public. The messages, printed in bold fonts, on their placards are louder than the upbeat music that is being blasted from the various parade floats along the road: “LET’S GET ONE THING STRAIGHT, I’M NOT,” “IF BEING GAY WAS A CHOICE, WHEN DID YOU CHOSE TO BE STRAIGHT?” “GAY LIBERATION NOW!” “A DAY WITHOUT LESBIANS IS LIKE A DAY WITHOUT SUNSHINE,” “PROUD TO BE TRANS,” and my personal favorite, “JESUS HATES FIGS, NOT FAGS.” Among the many opportunities that I was denied by my upbringing in the outskirts of Cape Town, South Africa is the freedom to walk tall as a gay person and a platform to mix with people of different races other than my own. So today, for the first time in the three decades of my existence, I finally get to be my authentic self and mingle with other races without any fears of judgment or bigotry. I am in Germany for the Berlin Gay Pride 2019! Then finally, my shock wears off and I feel an overwhelming sense of pride and excitement taking over me. This is the perfect moment to grab one of the craft beers that this country is acclaimed for and celebrate. It is not long before the bitter brew fuels my bravery and I happily and proudly join the diverse crowd. “Hey! Your hair is beautiful, can I touch it?” Really!? I honestly thought this was one of those speculative stereotypes. With slight annoyance, I turn to look at the person asking to touch my hair and I am welcomed by an innocent-looking face with curious eyes and a friendly smile. Before I can tell him off, the rainbow-colored sequins on his tight t-shirt rudely remind me that this event is about creating a safe space for understanding and accepting our differences. “Sure!” I say and I tilt my head slightly towards him and let him stroke my dreadlocks. “Wow! It feels very strong. I have always wanted dreadlocks but I doubt the texture of my hair would allow it,” as he says this, I can pick up a subtle tone of envy in his voice. Somehow it makes me feel oddly good that this German stranger lacks and longs for something that I have. I part ways with him feeling even prouder. This time the source of my pride is my ethnicity. Moments later I have made a handful of friends, thanks to the texture of my hair and the color of my skin. I soon realize that in this space, not only is my sexuality accepted and celebrated but my race is also appreciated. How I wish I could keep this moment for life and take it back home with me.