My Yellow Slave Markings
Here they are. They look almost pretty on the picture, don’t they? Innocent. Alluring. Put me on, they whisper. Very quietly, soothingly, waves sing in the background. We are harmless. Just a yellow wristband. Pretty yellow. Nice yellow. We will provide food and shelter.
The truth is that more than my green hat they proclaim me to be a tourist. One of the worst kind, I suspect. An AI-tourist. Just one step above a colonial overlord returned to the island to once again subjugate the peaceful natives.
As a punishement I have to wear these yellow markings. They mark me as a victim for all to see, a victim with a fat purse ripe for the money harvest. The bracelet says: Offer her cigarettes, day trips, your granny in a wheelchair, her granny in a wheelchair, it doesn’t matter, she will buy.
There is a secret language to these markings. Yellow means German. Red means French. White and green American, I think. Green? Spanish? It has gotten to the point were we try to speak to shopkeepers in English and they answer back in German. Jonas has no discernible accent. How do they know? The yellow whispers to them, that is how they know.
The overall effect is that the two of us dive for cover whenever we see a native come towards us with that friendly talking-to-the-tourist-grin. Surely that is not the intended effect.