Interessante: a experiência de um médico sikh no Reino Unido, e a sua reflexão quanto às questões do racismo. Leitura recomendada. Um excerto:
"I landed at Heathrow on 26th January 1991 with three pounds in my
pocket and a turban on my head. In my head were Oxford spires, Bertie
Wooster, Pink Floyd, Sir Humphrey Appleby from Yes, Minister and the
Marylebone Cricket Club—as well as a firm conviction that I would feel
at home. I was heading for Hounslow in west London to get some cash from
a family friend before going to the General Medical Council (GMC)
offices near Great Portland Street to register, and finally to Lincoln
to start work as a junior doctor. At Heathrow, I asked an elderly lady
how to get to Hounslow, admitting that I only had £3. “Don’t worry love,
you will get there and still have change left for a drink.” Paradise:
where women you have never met call you “love.”
The GMC office was tricky to find. Outside the tube station, I asked
directions from a group of youngsters who snarled: “Fuck off.”
Disheartened, I turned to a man rushing somewhere. He looked at my
creased paper with the GMC address and phone number, rang the number on
his brick-sized mobile phone to find out where it was and walked me to
the front door.
Lincoln was trickier still. Flat, everyone white, and not a turban or
dark skin in sight. Walking back the first evening from a corner shop, I
was stopped by three young men. Tattooed and aggressive, they wanted to
know if I was aware that their country and my country were at war. They
thought I was Iraqi. They were in no mood for lessons in geography,
religion or culture; my pleading that I was a Sikh from India was of no
interest. As they started to push and shove me, a group of women across
the road came over. They were nursing students and one of them had seen
me earlier that day trying to find my way round the hospital
accommodation. One of them shooed the guys off with language that would
do a seasoned sailor proud. I was close to tears. She took me to her
flat, made me the most welcoming cup of tea I have ever had, and said:
“Don’t mind those dickheads, love.” Love, again
I was bewildered..."
Is Britain a racist country? | Prospect Magazine
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