I descend the stairs in a flowing gown with a necklace reminiscent of past beauties. Augustin has thrown a celebratory party, despite my protestations that it is unnecessary. After all, most of the guests are his friends and acquaintances. I have few friends in attendance, just four close friends from my Law class whom I have invited to spare me from the tedium of conversing with the men in the room.
Three out of four of my friends arrive early. Ariel, the daughter of an accountant, is a sweet-natured girl amongst us. Mary is shy, the fifth daughter in a middle-class family, with parents who are both teachers at a primary school. Thomas, the only male in our group, is a man with a great secret that he will take to his grave. The eyes of the crowd converge upon my friends, making me uncomfortable. I approach them immediately to dispel the tension.
The elegantly-dressed and firmly-placed society figures in attendance are ready to pass judgement with a single glance towards those who appear weaker. My friends may not be wearing expensive outfits, but they will not bore anyone with talk of the weather or petty commentary on systems and structures. And now, I worry about my last friend's arrival because...
The conversation becomes hurried and the entire crowd immediately stops. Everyone looks in one direction, as if the audience is gazing at a freak in the circus. My worst fears have come true. Layla, my last friend, instantly becomes the centre of attention for no reason whatsoever. I am certain that the uproar the crowd is causing outside pertains to the same subject, and I know what that is. Oh, Layla, my friend, it is just too unfair! Why can God not have mercy on that poor girl? I rush to embrace her, in full view of everyone, even my husband's family. I smile reassuringly at my friends. I have promised that everything will be alright when I decided to invite them, and I will not let my guests feel uncomfortable and leave. As a person from a normal family with no wrongdoing, as someone who is "different" with no prejudice, and moreover, as a person with a different skin colour, there is no fault!
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There is an extreme differentiation between the two sides of the room, even though we are in the same place, for the same purpose of celebrating my birthday. I jestingly call it social hierarchy, which we are discussing at this very moment. Occasionally, I turn to look at the expressions of my in-laws. Not surprisingly, they also have a displeased look on their faces towards us, especially my mother-in-law, Mrs. Rose. Somehow, she always sees me as a thorn in her eye, or at least that is how I feel. She has never truly opened up to me, despite my best efforts to become a member of the family. Then I turn my gaze to my husband. Fortunately, he does not pay too much attention to my friends, but he is indifferent to the point of hopelessness. Watching him appear to be completely focused on the stories, the issues, and the people who were shocked to see my friends only makes me more uncomfortable.
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I have to "enjoy" the birthday party even after my friend has left. I reluctantly smile at the people in the room, as if I really appreciate them. There are just so many empty greetings. There are also the jokes that I try hard to laugh at to show that I am very interested. Feeling like a surplus person, an outsider, always happens to me in this very house. I sit next to Augustin with a glass of wine in my hand, listening carefully to the stories about oil mines in the Soviet Union; a new-born Germany that is developing extremely powerful, and a ship rumoured to be "unsinkable" that will be launched this year, with a voyage to New York starting in April. Occasionally, I add some comments, some claps, or a charming smile to each story. I have to show that I really admire that talent, that profoundness in that "terrifying" mass of knowledge!