Coconut (9)

Zan was less than thrilled to be attending a party filled with people on the opposite spectrum of her financial situation. As the Uber Q had ordered pulled up to his house, Zan leaned in against the car window and examined the building from the ground up. She smiled shyly at the Uber driver and walked up to the door, suddenly more aware of the rips in her Converse sneakers. She was greeted at the door by an overly excited, old, blonde-haired, blue-eyed couple.

“You must be Zan!” The woman said, spreading her arms open for a hug.

Zan giggled and embraced her. “Well, then you must be Q’s parents!”

The couple laughed and ushered Zan towards a large white room, filled with platters of food and wrapped gifts.

As she stepped into the dining area of the 3-story house, she noticed a large group huddled together at the back of the room. Q was right in the centre, naturally, cracking jokes yet maintaining his cool-kid persona. Zan was pleasantly surprised, however, to find that she and Q weren’t the only people of colour in the room. Considering that Q was an adoptee, Zan had already been mentally preparing herself to be surrounded by a room full of brunettes and blondes.

“Ey! Zan!” Q shouted from the middle of the circle. Everyone turned to look at her.

“Birthday Boy! Hi, everyone,-“ she said, waving shyly.

Everyone in the room waved back and she felt at ease. Q walked up to her, exaggeratedly brushing off the shoulders of his leather jacket and running his hands over his fresh, box-cut fade.

“Come and meet everyone, mate,-“ he said throwing his arm over Zan’s shoulder.

“Zan, we’ve heard a lot about you!” A tall brunette girl said, stopping Zan before she could meet anyone. “I’m Q’s cousin. Mom’s side,-“ she said, excitedly extending her arm for a handshake. “I’m Helena, but everyone just calls me Lena,-” she said. Zan shook her hand and smiled nervously. Lena was immediately followed by three more of Q’s cousins, who were all ready with questions for her about her friendship with their cousin. She happily answered them, grateful not to feel like an outsider. The group digressed into speaking about their favourite novels, movies and hobbies and Zan was glad to find that they all had a lot in common.

“So, Zan…” one of the cousins asked as she twirled her ponytail. “Is that short for, like, Zanele or something?” She asked.

“It’s short for Hosanna. I’m actually not even South African.” Zan answered very matter-of-fact and cheerfully proceeded to explain how her family had immigrated from Congo.

“Congo? Isn’t that one of the ghetto countries?” Lena asked

“Yeah, you’re clearly one of the good ones. Your English is so good.” Another cousin chipped in.

As the comments about how well Zan carried herself for an immigrant started to flood in, Zan felt a wave of anger begin to brew inside of her. She knew that these were meant as compliments, but knowing that Q’s cousins were still ignorant enough not to see that they weren’t was off-putting.

“-I’m going to get a drink,” Zan said, interrupting one of the cousins who was beginning her rant about how South Africa needed ‘more ones like her and Q’.

Zan would have more luck, she thought, befriending the people of colour in the room. Zan spotted the two other afros in the room and gravitated towards them.

“Hi, you guys. I’m Zan.” The group kept silent for a second, each one unapologetically sizing her up.

“Dumisani,” said a deep, feminine voice next to her. Having broken the silence, the rest of the introductions followed.

“We were wondering when you’d come over from hanging out with the Caucasians,-“ One of the girls said.

Zan giggled. “I guess they weren’t so bad at first. We had a lot in common, but-“

“Oh, so you’re a coconut then?” Dumisani interrupted, rolling his eyes.

“Excuse me?” Zan asked. She had never heard the term before, but somehow she knew she should be offended by it.

“You know, white on the inside and black on the outside? No need to answer though, we can tell by that private school accent that you’re a little laanie.”

“I’m going to get a drink,-” Zan said as she stood up abruptly. Suddenly, she felt a deep sense of shame about who she was… and who she wasn’t.