I still laugh whenever I think of a story an old Albertan rancher told me some years ago. He was being critical of race relations in the U.S. because of an incident that had occurred on a vacation trip to the U.S. back in the 1960s -- in which he and a black friend of his apparently made the mistake of trying to eat in a segregated restaurant and were asked to leave.
"That man was an Army veteran and one of the most decent human beings I've ever known. Now why would you folks down there treat him like that just because of the color of his skin? . . . It wudn't like he was an Injun, ya know!"
LOL!
LOL!
Too funny! My parents had an English Canadian friend named Stewie they used to visit on our way to a fishing camp on Upper Bark Lake, Ontario every year.
One night, deep in their cups, the adults were grousing about the state of the world and Stewie offered (in his stutter) that: “the only reason y-y-you got the b-b-b-blacks and w-w-w-we got the F-f-french, is y-y-you got first choice!
I know, I know, I’m only quoting, it was a long time ago. But it illustrates something an anthropology prof told me once, no matter where you go, insularity reigns supreme. The prof’s story:
A field worker about to move on to the next village is warned by the village elders at the farewell feast to beware of the folks in the next valley over because “those people” talk funny, the women are of easy virtue, the men are lazy and thieves too, etc....