Osies and Skinheads

Can it be that I have been thinking for the past 12 hours about what I could possibly write in my blog, but have found nothing. Can it be, oh gods, that my life has become dull of late? Be careful what you wish for, right?

Eastern European people, that is, those having grown up in Communist countries are weird. I can’t quite put my finger on it. They are wonderfully simple, and kind of “wholesome”, yet dubious somehow. I have been here for quite a while and have worked closely with “them”, yet still don’t have them figured out. Hmmm.

At McDondald’s the other day, I saw a group of skinheads waiting in line for their food. They had those old, German flags on their coats, tattoos, and just looked as Aryan as could be. Yet, they seemed friendly in some way. The people around them didn’t shun them, even if they may have been privately afraid.

I am starting to think that Europe is all about a place where the typical uniforms to which I have become accustomed are blurred. Maybe I have just been out of touch for too long. You see young white kids here, dressed from head to toe like their favorite rappers, even though you not a one of them has any concept of what the real ghetto is. You see young girls dressing like Britney, but with their overgrown bellies, hanging out between their short tops and low-riding pants. (Please let this style go away. I mean, I know the whole woman’s body image has progressed and that young women with a little extra weight should feel comfortable enough about themselves to just let their bodies be what they are. But, do we have to see it? Seriously.)

Anyway, these skinheads, ro whatever they were, are standing there, looking imposing, scaring me in some deep way, and up comes what is, apparently, an old friend of theirs. The guy is Turkish. For all of you who may not know, German Skinheads don’t like Turkish guys. But, they hugged and even kissed each other in the Turkish fashion.

It was at this point that I because sorely confused (you know, like in the Bible the shepherds were “sorely afraid”...) I just don’t get it. Is something not right here? Racism is such a confusing topic, you know. It reminds me of those stories before the Civil War where the plantation owner would cry like a baby and mourn for days at the passing of his Mammy that raised him. by all measure a racist, the owner couldn’t help but feel a tug on his heart at his mother-figure being taken away, even if she was black. Imagine how conflicted the brain and feelings of this owner must have been. Racism is not so simple as one might think. Perhaps these Skinheads at McDonald’s had some childhood who was Turkish, a friend that they could not deny. One can imagine that Skinheads were not always so, that they became so in their teenage years, and became harder and harder as time progressed. But, their heart was still alive in spite of their philosophies chokehold upon it. They could not deny the friend that reminded their spirit of earlier days, when they didn’t need to be hardened to the world.

Or, they could have not been Nazis at all, not close-minded, even friendly in spite of their appearance. But, that isn’t nearly so interesting to imagine.