There seems to be a combination of mystery and exoticism, of fetishization, lust, and taboo which men, including African, exhibit towards your blackness when combined with Americanness.
“ You know, I have never been with a black woman before,” is something I've been told unsolicited from the guy buying me a drink in Hong Kong to the one with whom I was contemplating more than a drink with in Buenos Aires. This is the extent of my interaction with this issue, but my friends have experienced more extreme cases.
Sure, there are many other situation-specific issues one will encounter but these overarching themes, I have seen played out in my own experiences and those of my friends. This is a topic which surfaces in many of the articles about Black expats.
Men and women face it—it’s something you have to accept.
When I would go to these same places with my white or colored friends there were no such looks. She, the wealthy American woman, picked up her island boy and brought him home as a kept man.
“But I am black, both of my parents are black, that makes me black too.” I have repeated this in five languages; most of the time to no avail.
As a solo traveler who is often overseas for extended periods of time, there is no avoiding dating, in fact, it is something I embrace.
In my experience there are five issues you will face as a single black woman with an American passport: Your Americanism trumps your skin color; Is he interested in you or the money/passport; Colorism; Exoticism; and What your clothes are saying.
He and Ilaunched into a long conversation about the term. I felt perfectly comfortable hanging out with my Zim boyfriend, but, I noticed when we would walk into Primi Piatti in Rosebank or News Cafe in Rivonia, people would stare.
They were quick ones to be sure but there nonetheless.
While I will always identify as black, of African descent, it doesn’t mean my date has to accept it.