Chapter 3 #3
"Hundreds of years ago, my ancestors were invaded by a group of people called Conquistadors," I said, settling in for a long explanation.
"They called my ancestors home the New World, and they approached it with a capitalist colonial mindset, with the idea that the land and everything on it was there to be taken.
They had deadlier weapons and capabilities than my ancestors, so they were successful in their invasion.
When the conquistadors ravaged the ‘New World’, they brought with them missions, religious institutions that served as centers of cultural assimilation and destruction.
They were obsessed with a concept they called limpieza de sangre, the cleanliness of the blood, with the cleanest ancestry being that without Jewish or Muslim influences, eventually transitioning to European ancestry without indigenous or African lineage.
Lineages considered less clean were marked by having darker skin and hair.
The conquistadors and religious leaders created a detailed caste system with labels for different levels of skin color, with an individual's rating determining what they were allowed to do in society, including marriage, attending university, and the taxes they paid.
So when I look at my hair, it is a mark of a system of historical, physical, and economic oppression designed to benefit people with lighter skin and hair.
When people call my hair beautiful, it both makes me feel good, but also reminds me that at one point in time my hair was considered beautiful because it was a mark of a literally more privileged social status that still has....
or had... and impact on my life both positive and negative. "
"How did it impact your life?" he asked.
I laughed.
"An easy example of that was once I had to take a drug test for a potential job to prove I didn't have addictions to illegal substances," I said.
"But a few days before, I had eaten a spiked cookie at a party without knowing what it was, so there was no way the drug test was going to be clean.
I did it anyway, knowing I wouldn't get the job, and when the technician came to give me the results of the test, he looked me in the eye, tossed them in the trash, and said 'You don't look like the type of girl to do drugs' and that was that.
The impact is in the everyday way that people treat you, and the grace they give you to make mistakes. "
"Is there a different term you would like me to use when complimenting your hair?" he said. "I don't wish to ignore its loveliness, but I don't wish to cause you discomfort with my words either."
I paused at that.
"Sometimes discomfort needs to be leaned into," I said. "Like a knot in a muscle being massaged out."
"I like that," he said. "It makes sense to me."
"In what way?" I asked.
"In letting you on board, I faced discomfort as I am not used to having passengers," he said. "It has already become easier, and if the journey is filled with conversations like these, I suspect my discomfort will fade away entirely."
"Thank you for letting me on board, even if it made you uncomfortable," I said.
"You needed help," he said.
Silence filled the space after his words as I sat with that thought. He said it as if the option was not even an option at all, that helping me was something that simply had to happen, but he was the first person in months to actually do anything at all to help me.
It wasn't a small thing to me.
"You wanted to know something about the food?" I probed, trying to restart the conversation.
"Yes," Lyrien said. "The tray has a large selection of different fresh foods that I can produce on board that are safe for you to eat.
They are currently separated and prepared individually, as I wanted to know which flavors or combinations you enjoy so I can prepare a variety of meals for you.
I also have a selection of stored foods for you to try, but I wanted to start with what I could sustainably produce first."
"I like this one," I said, pointing at the spicy egg. "Did you add any spice to it?"
"None of the flavors have been altered or adjusted as I wanted to get your reactions to each individual item," he said. "That is the way it tastes. Is there anything else you enjoy?"
"Let's go through each one by one, and I'll give a detailed description of how it tastes and how much I enjoy it," I said. "Better to do this scientifically. Do you have something I can take notes with?"
"I can do that and provide a formatted report afterward," Lyrien said.
A spike of joy, warm like a ray of sun on a face trapped in darkness, pleasant and painful at the same time.
"Since I'm going to be here a while and you mentioned I could set up rooms for specific uses," I said, reformatting my thoughts around the disruptive moment of sudden happiness at the prospect of doing something, learning something, and producing information that other people could eventually use.
"I would like a kitchen as well. I'm happy to try things you create, but I enjoy cooking. Maybe we could cook together?"
"Yes," Lyrien said, surprise in his voice. "I would enjoy that."
I went through the meal, tasting each offering one by one and providing detailed information about each experience, including levels of salt, sweetness, umami, etc. By the end of it I had a large number of flavors I enjoyed, a few combinations I knew were lovely, and a few that were terrible.
Finally, I couldn't eat anymore, and it was time to explore. I stood and went to the door. It slid open as I approached, and a drone was waiting for me in the hallway.
It was time to take care of the one thing I didn't want to do.
"I'm ready for my medical scan," I said, trying to smother the rising fear in my heart at the thought of being subjected to more tests.
I could push through.
I needed to know what they did to me.