Honorary White Read Free Page B

particulars had already been entered on the card, which surprised me until I remembered that in New York I had been advised to make my travel plans through the Grosvenor Tours Company and they had chosen this hotel for me.
    The formalities completed, I was shown to my suite, large and comfortably cool. Two porters followed with my luggage. They were black, gray suited, and, I noticed, were scrutinizing me carefully. When the manager left, one of the porters addressed me in what I presumed was an African dialect.
    â€œI don’t understand,” I told him.
    â€œYou’re not African?” he asked, in English.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWhere are you from?” meanwhile busying themselves with my luggage.
    â€œGuyana.” The look on their faces told me the name meant nothing to them.
    â€œWhere’s that?”
    â€œSouth America.”
    â€œAmerica. That where Mr. Bob Foster is from. Do you know Mr. Bob Foster, sir.”
    â€œNo. Who is he?”
    â€œA boxing champion.” Proudly. “He stayed here in this hotel.” Looking at me as if that bit of information was important and should be received respectfully. I nodded, accepting.
    â€œYou a boxer?” he asked.
    â€œNo. I write books.”
    He left me with the feeling that as a non-boxer, I held no further interest for him. Later I learned that Bob Foster, the boxer, had not only stayed here but had been the guest of honor, cutting the ribbon which officially opened the hotel for public business. I also learned that it was no accident which brought me here.
    According to South African law, a hotel can accept non-white guests only if it obtains a special permit or license to do so, and very few such permits are issued. Non-Whites are Blacks, Asians, and those of mixed blood (Coloreds). Ironically, only the best, the five-star hotels, are licensed to accommodate Non-Whites. Native Non-Whites, of course, rarely have either the means or the temerity to use these hotels. To complicate the situation further, visiting Non-Whites are designated “Honorary White” to insure, it is claimed, their insulation and exemption from the many embarrassments which would otherwise attend them. I discovered that this title was first conceived to meet the special circumstances of Japanese businessmen who came to establish footholds for their companies in the South African market. They could not, like indigenous Non-Whites, be contemptuously restricted and segregated, so it was decided to “whiten” them for as long as they lived and worked in South Africa. Eventually, all non-white visitors were called “Honorary White.”
    Outside, it was sunny and uncomfortably hot; inside it was refreshingly cool from air conditioning and the fine mesh curtains drawn across the large windows which overlooked the street. I prowled around to familiarize myself with what would be my point of departure for the next six weeks. The vestibule was equipped with a washroom and cloak room for visitors and led into the spacious, attractive dining area. This contained a large wooden table, polished to a dazzling shine, and six matching chairs. The nearby wall was really a cupboard artfully contrived to hide a small refrigerator and shelves for pots and pans, cutlery and glassware. A room divider of simulated bamboo partly separated this from the lounge, large and luxurious and painfully overdone in green—olive green carpet, paler green walls, a glass-topped center table which held a large basket of fruit, lime green upholstered furniture, pictures in contrasting shades of green, and, scattered about the room, an abundance of artificial plants.
    Luckily, the bedroom door could be closed to shut out the green menace from the more somber but equally lush comfort of the large, canopied bed in polished dark wood, matching side tables, highboy, and chest of drawers. Near the window was a wide writing table and two chairs with elephant hide seats. One entire