#clasismo

(Dot is any pronouns is chaos :D)

Dot the clown of the group, (as the human called him when Dot left his work expression) an alien from planet xB70 was surprised as on a trip to earth to gather information, he found his human friend Roberto holding his obviously broken arm with a piece of cardboard and duct tape.

-Human, I didn't know they were so far behind in medicine. Do you need help?-

The human shifted uncomfortably and looked at his arm. -It's no big deal… or so the doctors said, I don't really know, they weren't available to do x-rays until after 4pm,’ he sighed, and sat down as best he could in his garden on the outskirts of the city, one of the reasons why Dot chose him to study the Latin American country called “Uruguay”. -And I told you I'm Roberto, don't just call me human. Individualism remember? -

Dot kept looking at the arm, questioning whether it would be worth calling the Knua't doctor to check the break, in her human biological disguise the sweat was noticeable, and the discomfort in body language, but if she removed her disguise her slimy mass that the hum- Roberto called slime would be twitching, shaking and releasing juice. While his species has no bones, or vital organs dangerously exposed, it was well known that the Klont-S1M allowed all aliens whether from the universal galactic stellar union of zone 0-b1 or any other sector, so they knew very well the dangers of the ruptures of the internal forms that allow the union of being. Whether calcium, magnesium, diamond, or stellar, they were almost all the same. They were difficult to heal properly without the right support, and some did not heal at all. Making a decision, because this great human had helped the crew a lot with his research, he decided to call Knua't. V-3 objective accomplished, but requested immediate medical union. - He ignored as Roberto startled, only to curse when one of the adhesive tapes broke and moved his arm.

On the other side the head guard answered - Azlp here, what's the problem. -

-Roberto is injured, apparently he doesn't have the means to… repair a broken bone, a body builder for us. - he said as he slurred the word ‘bone’.

The boy tried to stop him when he wanted to take the communicator from him -Wait friend, I'll be fine, it's 1pm, only 3 hours left, well, maybe they'll take longer to attend me, but come on, it's not serious. -

Dot looked at him, and dropped his disguise. -Human, Roberto. Aren't we friends? You invited us to a… barbecue on Sunday, you offered us your drink called mate, and you accepted us into your space. Even if you don't want to be healed for some reason, consider that this is paying a debt.

A tear fell from the human's eye, and he sat back down, muttering things that even Dot did not know the meaning of. He returned to his disguise, and adjusted his communicator. -Are you still there?

-I am, the doctor's on his way, he'll be here soon.

Two minutes later Knua't arrived in his ship disguised as an ASSE ambulance. As he looked at his arm he was horrified, not because it was so badly broken, but because of the poor job of keeping it immobilised.

-But, it's not possible, we thought humans were more advanced than this. - She said as she gave the human anaesthesia, ‘Haven't you talked to the human about his medicine?

Dot paused from her work as a medical assistant, and simply looked up at the sky. -I tried, but he always evades the subject, several subjects in fact, basic things like education, medicine, water and food. - He shook his head, and handed Knua't an analyser. -The truth is, he looked down, though thinking about what his jobs are like, you'd think they'd be better than this. -

-Yeah, you're right. Well, it's just a tear, though because of the bad support we'll have to make a sharp movement to align it, and then heal it. - Knua't parted the human's wavy black hair, and noted his features. Dark circles under his tanned skin, signs of nutrient malnutrition, and some mild dehydration. He could work with this. -He's going to wake up soon, bring me some water. The human has a duct that flushes it out. -

Dot simply walked out almost running, after a few minutes he returned with a confused look on his face. -There's a problem.’ She handed the glass of water to the doctor. - It contains Ca, and a dangerous degree of NaCIO.

-There is nothing drinkable?

-There are plastic bottles, but they were all contaminated with microplastics from the same bottle. He seems to have refused many times.

-Hm, well, we'll see what we can do. What about food? Taking advantage of the fact that the anaesthetic was still working, he carried the human and laid him down on the couch. - There must be something rich in water.

After some searching they found an electric freezer full of pre-prepared food, frozen meat, and some processed foods, and a cooler with only a yellow citrus fruit, some tubers, which Dot recognized as ‘potato’ and ‘carrot dwarf’ and about 100grs (0.22lb) of what looked like low quality beef because of the level of fat in it. Nothing very nutritious, or anything to add hydration.

-This is bad,’ said the doctor as he closed the electrical device.

A murmur filled the air. ‘What's bad? -

The human sat up confused and uncomprehending, waking up suddenly when he noticed that his arm didn't hurt. - What the hell,’ he raised his arm in confusion.

Knua't stepped forward before he could move it any further. -It's still healing, the process seems to be slow since we did it at the level of your biology, we weren't sure if your species had the physiological pattern to remake parts of you,’ he said.

Roberto tried to get up -Eh, yes. no, wait. - He touched his head, and sat back down. He felt dizzy.

-Are you all right?

Knua't looked at Dot as he attended to the human, then looked around again. -You do not feed well,’ he said at last. -That must change.

It began slowly, a repetitive motion, and light chuckles as the human tried not to laugh, then broke loose and laughed loudly. A loud, bitter, desperate sound echoed through the small empty house. -Oh dear. Funny, I don't mean to not eat well, trust me, but nourishment costs. -

-But, with what you've told us about your job, you should be able to live well. A job with so much physical exhaustion should be rewarded. -

-I'm a garbage man, I work for the city administration. -Believe me, they don't care about me. Believe me, they don't care about me. Besides, everything is shit here. If I work overtime and the government decides I'm earning too much they take more than 50% of my salary, and tell you to deal with it, in turn paying too much for a house that is missing the roof of the room and was replaced with just a sheet of metal. Of course I could live in a flat, as I did in my youth, but that is no longer an option. -

Dot analysed everything, but Knua't didn't keep quiet. -Is it expensive?

-Oh no, well yes, one way or the other, the pay would still be barely enough, but nobody wants a worker like me around, even if you clean yourself up, have good hygiene, everyone recognises you as the one who collects rubbish and gets scared off. Something happens, a bad smell, a mess and everyone blames you, or expects you to fix it because ‘you live collecting rubbish, which is a bit more’ - but… the collection of rubbish is not enough.

-But… litter picking is essential for the cleanliness and harmony of the city.

-They don't care, man. Everything in this country is horrible when it comes to quality of life, and harmony between jobs. - He left the room in frustration, going to his room to lie down on the bed. Recognising what it took to leave his previous flat, what led him to this dilapidated place full of leaks, and other ills put a bad taste in his mouth. He heard a noise, and looked at Dot who stood against the door, unsure.

-Come in if you like.

Dot did, all right.

-That… rejection is often? -No, well, I don't know. It's the fault of several factors, many can't, or don't want to change on the way out, smelling of filth all the way. Others don't even have hygiene, they're drunk, and they just don't care. We're not all like that, we're just people who want to work, but even the cleaning staff take a large percentage of our salary.

-Dot finally sat up in bed, and looked at Roberto.

-It's not that bad, but they take a lot more than 20,000 pesos from us. It's something nobody recognises because they don't want to fight for it, but it's still shit. Food is expensive, rent is expensive, people reject us because of how we dress, where we work. For them we are just a… oh I won't even say it, it's an insult to poor people, but it's still indecent for those people. -

-Remember how old you are? -

-23, I've been working as a rubbish collector for two years. You get in by contacts under the table, or competitions. I got in through competitions, out of 5 qualified I came in 4th.

Dot blinked and wrote down the answer, Roberto didn't care if the aliens knew how bad the world was.

-And studies?

-And studies? -Well, it's funny, to study you have to go to the capital if you want to go to university. You know, we don't all have the money to go there, the trip, the tickets, the materials, the time, even though there is a public university, the expenses are horrible. Not everyone can afford it. On the other hand, I went to technical school, I did mechanics, thinking that I would have a quick job, but in itself, we only have four places to repair motorbikes and cars, plus one or two rubber shops. We are a small town 2km x 2km (1.24 mi x 1.24 mi) We don't have much to offer, you would think I should have studied gastronomy, but my friends who did that still can't get jobs, we are small, there are places where 2 or 3 people in charge are already full and they don't want anyone else, and even the family restaurants have queues full of people. - He paused, not noticing how short of breath he was, he had anxiety, he knew it, but he still couldn't get the right medicine… it wasn't in stock. - We have no tourism, no high season, it's always the same. Everything is concentrated in the capital, we don't even have a Mcdonalds and the traffic lights are less than 5 years old here, and only in the two main streets of the town a few blocks from the main square. We don't have a cinema, let alone something as lively as an amusement park, the other nearby towns are not much better off, maybe they have tourism but to go to the doctor they come to this town to get fixed up. Haya doesn't usually have something as basic as a dentist, but here we went without a paediatrician for more than a year, and I've even heard how they operate on people without anaesthesia - He covered his face, wanting to stop the screams that came to his mind. He could no longer, he could not breathe. He felt a pinch.

-It's all right, you're all right. When the Galactic Union arrives, everything will be all right, we came here to see what we can offer humanity. -

Roberto laughed in tears, ‘Probably most of the world will let them rule the earth.

-Sleep, we'll take care of the food and water. I'll be here when you wake up. -

Roberto felt heavy, had he been drugged again? He barely felt it in his panic?

Dot brought her hand to the communicator, and called not her shift leader, but KOplt, the leader of this main mission. He spoke only a code, to let him know that at least in this section of the world, quick action and improvements were required. -Code break. The answer was clear: ‘Understood, you are not the only one of the investigators to ask us for progress, a large percentage of the rest have analysed that quick action is needed in most of the world, we will do something soon. The earth will not go on like this for much longer.

Dije que alguien nacida y criada en yankilandia, cuyos padre fueron nacidos y criados (al igual que sus abuelos) también en gringolandia, no es una latina. No habla ninguna de las lenguas de sudamerica, no nació ni creció aquí, no come la comida, no escucha la música, no vive con las culturas ni la historia de un respectivo territorio en Sur America y el Caribe. Por el contrario, nació en EEUU y fue criada como una gringa, y se desarrolló en el entorno de Hollywood, la industria más gringa de estados unidos después de la guerra.

Si cualquiera de nosotros (una persona brasileña, peruana, ecuatoriana, haitiana, boliviana, cubana, chilena, uruguaya, etc) fuera y dijera que es, por ejemplo, de Polonia, a pesar de jamás haber pisado Polonia, no hablar el idioma, no tener la cultura, las costumbres ni tradiciones, no saber preparar la comida, ni las bebidas, no escuchar la música ni nada, NADIE de Polonia diría "oh pero por supuesto que esta persona es polaca". Si por trabajo nos hicieran decir que somos polacos para atraer consumidores polacos al trabajo y nos hicieran memorizar y decir dos frases en polaco, ¿eso nos haría polacos?

Realmente podemos aceptar esta lógica? No. No es sólo marketing y propaganda asquerosamente gringa sino también es un insulto a nuestras culturas e historias de cada uno de nuestros territorios así como Sur América y el Caribe en su totalidad. Que nuestra historia sea tan insignificante a los ojos de los gringos que crean sólo con hacer a una gringa decir que es latina eso la hace latina.

Es siempre "latino" o "latina", jamás dicen el gentilicio, todos somos mexicanos a los ojos del imperio en el mejor de los casos.

¿Lo peor? Lo peor es que gente de Sur América defienda esto.

La colonización gringa es tal, que una latina con nombre gringo y apellido latino nacida y criada en Sur América, se sienta identificada con el producto gringo en vez de encontrarlo degradante. Asumo es como una whitexican o la versión que tengan de ello en su país.

Estoy en una difícil situación económica, social y alimentaria y esta chica emplea esto para "vengarse". Esta chica no encuentra nada mejor que darme dinero como si fuera una clase alta que se cree blanca y arroja limosna no para la persona sin casa sino para sentirse bien y decir que son bondadoso con el moreno, maligno y enojado pobre. Me dejó un mensaje denigrante porque cree, igual que los gringos y los adinerados, que si paga por algo tiene derecho a insultarte o ser desagradable y uno debe callarse, darle las gracias y besarle los zapatos.

Le devolví el depósito de $20 dólares diciéndole que no aceptaba dinero de gente que cree Sur América es cualquier cosa y que defiende a una gringa burlándose de nuestras identidades para más encima dejarme un mensaje humillante. Básicamente pagó para insultarme y denigrarme a mi y de pasada demostrar lo mucho que odia no ser gringa (obviamente su foto de tumblr es con el pelo teñido de rubio platinado y un filtro para verse blanca, pero la de su paypal muestra es morena de pelo oscuro y ojos café). Que actitud más asquerosa.