When they saw my boyfriend, my parents were ready to faint, so great was the shock! To be honest, it was also my fault because I wanted to surprise them, I didn't tell them that Allassane, a student at the Faculty of Medicine at the time, was originally from Ivory Coast and that he was as black as embers. The message of my story is clear: even if you are denied the right to happiness by the archaic conventionalism of a society fenced with artificial patterns, go ahead! Follow your dream! As for me, I was influenced by people with obtuse thinking and I was trapped in a restrictive thinking pattern. I was thus frustrated, suffering and disappointed. Eventually, however, I woke up to reality and set foot on the ground. Before I did that, unfortunately, it took my father to go through a great scale and be saved from death by a black man from Africa. Roxane is my name, I am 34 years old and I want to tell you about some events that happened in the last decade of my life, special events that decisively influenced my destiny. And I'll start with the moment I met Allassane, the man who will play a major role in the story and in my life. This meeting took place, unexpectedly, about ten years ago, in a Bucharest subway, on a day when I was in a hurry to get to classes.
Thus, hearing the closing signal of the doors and being only a few steps away from the train, I rushed inside. I fell into the arms of a black man who, taken by surprise, failed to avoid it. What happened next? The paper cup of coffee he held in his hand spilt onto his shirt and pants, and his screams caused by the burns caused by the hot drink frightened those around him.
"Terrorist! There's a terrorist on the subway! shouted a lady with a sharp nose and aristocratic bun, the kind of hysterical woman, hard to calm down. Take cover, he's a terrorist!
Where the assailants could have taken refuge or fled, given that they were in a subway, between stations, I do not explain. What is certain is that seeing the imminent turmoil that was about to take place, I intervened to calm the spirits.
"Do not worry! There is no terrorist!" I shouted as loud as I could, covering the panic.
Someone scalded himself with coffee. That's all! People then understood the confusion created and gradually they calmed down, and the old man rose from the floor with the help of the black burnt with coffee. By the time the train stopped at the next station, the situation was under control; silence had set in again, and all that could be heard were the moans of the scald.
"Sorry! Come to the doctor!" I told him as soon as I got off the subway. "We're going together, there's a hospital here, nearby!"
"Keep calm! There's no need!" he protested with a surprisingly warm voice. "It was unintentional. It could happen to anyone." 2 But as I felt extremely guilty for what I had caused, I did not give up until I took him to the Emergency Hospital and saw him bandaged. Then I invited him to lunch together, and he, seeing how insistent and stubborn I was, agreed. In the almost two hours we spent together, I found out that Allassane, as the guy is called, was the same age as me (I was 24 at the time), that he was a student at the Faculty of Medicine, and that he was from Ivory Coast. In my turn, I was in my last year at the University, but in a completely different field, namely Foreign Languages.
All in all, I was impressed by Allassane, who seemed like a gentle, balanced, and ambitious guy, so we gladly accepted his invitation to see each other again. And, not to lengthen the story, let me tell you directly that, although I would never have thought that I would be attracted to a black man, I soon fell in love with him. As butterflies swirled in his stomach, we became a normal couple, so to speak, because of the huge difference in pigment between us. A couple who were happy for two years, that is, until I made the decision to introduce Allassane to my parents.
Before I describe to you the memorable scene in which I introduced my African lover to their house, I must enlighten you about them. Thus, my mother and father, both employees of the Government, have always been extremely rich people, being part of the elite of the Capital and generally surrounding people with high positions in society. They raised me and my brother Robert, but they wanted to make sure we didn't get it wrong, like other money-ready children, and for that, I received a severe, rigid education, with spartan influences.
That being the case, it's no wonder that before I introduced Allassane to my mother and father, who is as black as embers, I was very emotional. My thoughts kept running through the anthological movie "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner," in which Hollywood's sacred monsters, Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn, were to meet their white daughter's black lover, none other than the likeable and charismatic Sidney Poitier, and unfortunately things were going to be almost like in the movie: a total disaster!
When they saw my black boyfriend, about whom I had told them a lot, but omitted to tell them that he was black, my parents turned white!
Stay tuned for part 2!