En Route to Bangladesh, Another Crisis of Faith
BY TARFIA FAIZULLAH
—at Dubai International Airport and ending with a line by César Vallejo
Because I must walk
through the eye-shaped
shadows cast by these
curved gold leaves thick
atop each constructed
palm tree, past displays
of silk scarves, lit
silhouettes of blue-bottled
perfume—because
I grip, as though for the first
time, a paper bag
of french fries from McDonald’s,
and lick, from each fingertip,
the fat and salt as I stand alone
to the side of this moving
walkway gliding me past dark-
eyed men who do not look
away when I stare squarely
back—because standing
in line to the restroom I want
only to pluck from her
black sweater this one shimmering
blond hair clinging fast—
because I must rest the Coke, cold
in my hand, beside this
toilet seat warmed by her thighs,
her thighs, and hers.
Here, at the narrow mouth
of this long, humid
corridor leading to the plane,
I take my place among
this damp, dark horde of men
and women who look like me—
because I look like them—
because I am ashamed
of their bodies that reek so
unabashedly of body—
because I can—because I am
an American, a star
of blood on the surface of muscle.
Upon first reading this poem (and without paying attention to the description), one might envision the setting as an American airport. The speaker’s mention of “shimmering blond hair,” “Coke,” and especially “a paper bag of french fries from McDonald’s” brings to mind ideas of large-scale capitalism of an “American” flavor. Closer inspection, however, reveals that the poem is set in Dubai International Airport. The material objects that would seem so innocuous, or perhaps expected, had they been found in America take on a very different meaning: suddenly, the poem appears to be about a culture which has adopted or perhaps transplanted symbols of the Western world in lieu of those of its own (Americanization). Even the “curved gold leaves thick / atop each constructed / palm tree” seem an aberration from the “truth” of that world: the natural (perhaps the cultural reality) is gilded to make itself more appealing, to fit in. I wonder if it felt like it had to for survival, or if it wanted to do so because that world seems somehow “better.”
The speaker’s attitude is even more jarring: she seemingly rejects herself while also rejecting her culture. She “must walk”; she “[stands] alone” even among a “damp, dark horde of men / and women who look like [her].” The poem reeks of the speaker’s self-loathing because of where she comes from and what she looks like. But this hatred is the product of societal education–the tendency to glorify the reigning power. That she is holding French fries and Coke not only symbolizes an internalized expectation to assimilate to Western culture, but also her seeming belief that that culture is indeed better (“because I am / an American”). She and the airport have both ascribed, to some extent. On one hand, the speaker appears to be criticizing those notions; but she is also attacking her people, with “their bodies that reek so / unabashedly of body.” The urge to assimilate or adopt outside practices based on power structures, along with detestation of the former culture, would seem to be trends apparent in transnational interactions. Again appears Appadurai’s observation that one nation’s past is another nation’s future.
Sarah
I think it’s really interesting that the poem ends with a line by César Vallejo. He was a writer and activist who was born in Peru and lived in France and Spain. The conscious and emphasized use of this line not only adds to the variety of cultural influences on this text, but could also be seen as the speaker finding it increasingly difficult or undesirable to use their own voice, and using the words of individuals from other cultures instead. This could tie into the themes of cultural assimilation and transnationalism.
Vallejo was also a Communist, which in some ways is, or at least attempts to be, a transnational movement.
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I like how this poem also brings up the idea of the transnational/international/otherwise boundaries and space of an airport. A traveler could fly from Chicago to Dubai by way of another city in another country, but without technically “being” in the connecting country. Airports and their architecture seem tied to the country in which they are built, but the inner portions tend to feature blurrier details in terms of their offerings, let alone their nationality.
Lindsay
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