Dear Macau, I have been struggling with commonplace and prejudiced views. My desire to find unity in the British character, evenness and predictability, is at odds with my usual instinct that tells me such generalisations don’t actually exist, and reminds me how offensive it must sound to every individual to be described as indistinguishable from another one right next to them.
Having said this, I remember being told that ‘struggling’ is never a positive word; that is we should use it scarcely, if ever, in case we should let it be known to others that we are not in perfect control of our every step.
So, does such advice reflect something about the British trying to present an outwardly confident character? Should this cautionary advice against depicting ourselves as ‘struggling’, when offered by a sufficient number of English people, mean that such a habit is an indigenous trait? Or should I be wisely advised that people in this country are also prone to self-deprecation, as much as wit and charm?
What about the ongoing debate on cutting back immigration and getting out of the European Union? Should I see in every headline of the popular press, a citizen dismissive towards whatever is foreign to him or her, nodding his or her head and finally voting to get out?
Should I be offended when the governing political discourse allows itself to pick on migrants and describe them as benefit-seekers, just for the sake of being praised by their constituencies? I am, after all, one kind of migrant in this country.
Or should I notice how, in contrast, Britain has a long record of international engagement, and how, on the London train I am travelling on, I can hear the expression of three, four, or more different idioms, and recognise features and characteristics from five different continents? Can I not hear one of my British colleagues feeling exasperated with all this anti-immigration rhetoric?
It’s commonplace to be tricked into repeating commonplace sentiments, as it is commonplace to rebuke the idea that we were caught up in such prejudiced views. No one wishes to be seen making general assumptions about people on the basis of their nationality, culture or mere appearance – as much as we might need some notion of these factors to deal with the people we meet.
I remember having the same dilemma when I arrived in Macau more than ten years ago. Even though I was kindly advised on what to expect, I could not stand the idea of not being allowed to make my own uncontaminated judgement about what I was about to discover. But if I knew nothing, I could not navigate the place.
I dreaded the day when I would say “Well, the Chinese… You, see, the Portuguese… Of course, the Macanese…” and so on, and kept pinching myself so as not to utter such words. But I could not be without these misconceptions and generalisations. No one can, really. They are very enchanting and dangerous ideas without which one risks getting lost.
Visa forms and passport stamps should come with the warning message, “Beware of prejudice. Get lost!” But how can we not advocate for the devil sometimes – and how can we also resist being the devil ourselves?
Love, Maria.
PS: It has been such a long time already, Macau. One year, soon, since I left you. I would like you to know how dearly I miss you, perhaps in the nostalgic way Portuguese are said to feel for every place they depart. I say this with a long black shawl covering my shoulders and a vacant stare towards the sea. I say it with a pragmatic shrug of shoulders towards a busy San Ma Lo. I say it in our common places.