A Lesson of Tolerance

Tolerance: the ability or willingness to tolerate the existence of opinions or behaviour that one dislikes or disagrees with.

Sun, blue sky, beach weather. You wouldn't associate Sweden with beautiful beaches, like Brazil. And there I was for the first time at Ribersborg in Malmo.

I didn't know what to expect. My experience with beaches had only been mainly in Brazil: Loud music, loud people, street vendors (or beach vendors) selling anything from peanuts to beer to flip flops. We always have to keep an eye out for pickpockets too. But none of these used to bother me so much like the predatory eyes of people, or rather men.

Back in Malmo, People on the beach were doing things that are universal, some were drinking, some were eating, some were listening to music or reading. Couples, families and children, groups of friends. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

To me what seemed 'out of the ordinary' was lack of judgemental looks. First of all, some girls were topless. Mothers and daughters too. In Brazil, that would never happen – no-one goes topless. Small bikini bottoms that hardly cover anything are ok but topless are inconceivable. In these little nuances, that some might call 'cultural differences', it's where you start to see the macho culture as well as the intolerance.

There were straight and gay couples, doing what couples do: talking, kissing and enjoying the sun. Still, no judgemental looks from anyone. Or comments of any kind.

Then I saw a 20-something guy, with boarding shorts, no shirt, walking next to a 20-something girl. What caught my attention was that the young guy had two big scars, one each side of chest, a couple of centimetres under his nipples.

Then I realised that he actually was a transgender man. He had undergone a breast removal surgery. The scars looked, somehow rather red, I think the operation was done recently. They walked casually, meet a group of people (boys and girls) that happened to be sun bathing, chatted for a couple of minutes and left.

Again, no-one was staring. Probably, I was the only one looking at him. Not because I was shocked, but because I was admiring his courage, the courage to expose himself and his scars. That would be unthinkable in Brazil.

Then I realised that it was the first time I felt safe to be on a beach. Not just my own safety as a woman, but the realisation that the people around me, regardless of their gender or sexual orientation, would be safe too. Safe to be ourselves. Just to simply be.

Some might say “Oh Ana, you can't compare Brazil to Sweden”. Why not? Why shouldn't I? I know that Sweden has a different story, perhaps a culture that has been more tolerant of differences. But why is so difficult to conceive a place where everyone is respected and tolerated?

I can only speak about Brazil, but is tolerance something we need to learn? Or is the intolerance so embedded in our culture that we don't realise what we are saying or thinking? Perhaps those little jokes about gays, women and black people that people find it funny and say 'Oh it's just a joke', a sign of intolerance too?

Big changes start in small gestures. Think about it.

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