Slave Narrative

Olidah Equiano's account of the MiddlePassage
http://www.princeton.edu/~howarth/304.Projects/Erera/Pages/Background.htm

" 'The first object which saluted my eyes when I arrived on the coast, was the sea, and a slave ship, which was then riding at anchor, and waiting for its cargo. These filled me with astonishment, which was soon converted into terror, when I was carried on board. I was immediately handled, and tossed up to see if I were sound, by some of the crew; and I was now persuaded that I had gotten into a world of bad spirits, and that they were going to kill me. Their complexions, too, differing so much from ours, their long hair, and the language they spoke (which was very different from any I had ever heard), united to confirm me in this belief. Indeed, such were the horrors of my views and fears at the moment, that, if ten thousand worlds had been my own, I would have freely parted with them all to have exchanged my condition with the meanest slave in my own country.' (53-54)"

Reaction:
The author of the narrative is Olidah Equiano who had been a slave since child hood but explains that in his culture slavery is very different than that of the europeans. The passage above explains the reactions of Equiano's first impressions of the whites. I sympathize with Equiano because he is taken as a slave by the whites, who do not speak the same language as him nor has he ever encountered whites. It must have been hard to understand the chaos which surrounded him at that time. I feel like the Europeans should have had at least brought aboard a translator who could have helped the slaves because if would have lessened the confusion and made the journey easier because both parties would be able to understand each other rather than instilling fear.


Diary:

4 August

Right now I am sitting the in the cago hold of a ship along with 300 other slaves. Today I was brought to the coast for the first time. After looking past the crowds of people and ships the horizon was nothing but blue ocean. When I arrived I looked for familiar faces but I have yet to find one. The white men look so different from me. They have skin the color of sand with long hair that gets pushed around by the wind. I do not understand their language nor do they understand mine. The only way we can communicate is through various hand motions. They cargo hold in which I have been thrown is cramped. There is hardley any light or openings for air. We are allowed only on deck for five minutes a day. Many people get sea sick and our area becomes covered in filth with an awful sting. More and more people get sick everyday from these bad conditions. I hope I stay strong.