Sharing Dessert with a (Supposed) Neo-Nazi

How a meal with an unlikely companion revived my faith in humanity

Soon after I arrived in San Sebastián, Spain, I went into town to try my first pinxtos bar. It was around 10pm, and the cobblestone streets were packed with partygoers, so much so that I decided I just. couldn’t. at my first bar (Ganbara, which I had a delicious meal at a few days later, and where I met a fellow New Yorker who ate with me until the wee hours of the morning.)

I went a few doors down to Casa Urola which was only slightly less crowded, and I stood for a moment in the back, observing how people ordered and ate. As I was reading my phone’s clumsy translation of a photo I took of the menu—a chalkboard scribbled with Spanish—a man hollered over the clamor, “Have you ordered?” I looked over to see an Australian man dressed in an all-black, luxe grunge uniform. We joked later that his outfit was perfect for getting into Berghain.

“You just order,” he explained, “and stand anywhere you can find a spot.” He described how eating in San Sebastián had a staccato cadence, no queue for ordering, guests eating whenever the plates were ready. My new companion helped me order one of the best meals I’ve had in my life—a scallop with seaweed and a truffle cream sauce, a sardine-type fish, foie gras, a “kebab” that had mouth-melting meat and pepper, and a refreshing rosé that was, as we Americans say, a porch pounder.

What followed was a conversation with a person I would likely never actively befriend, and a conversation that taught me more than I could ever gain by studying books or reading things on the internet. This person, an owner of a massively successful fashion company, was “canceled” two years ago by liberals who labeled him a neo-nazi. I could see the hurt in him as he told me about the (valid) reasons why people viewed him in this way. And as we spoke about our queer journeys, colonization, slum tourism, racism, food, cultural expectations, our childhoods, and our shared passion for “fucking the system,” I felt deeply connected to the humanity in him.

My dining companion said things most liberal Americans would be up in arms about. For instance, when talking about colonization, he spoke about how colonizers have taken the “best parts” of colonized cultures, which has created the “best” cultures today. A listener lacking nuance could summarize his perspective as: “colonization is good—look at how dope places like New York & California are now because of it.” But as I asked more questions, I realized he was saying the same thing I’ve been pondering as I’ve been in Europe: societies that are more egalitarian (like Copenhagen, where I have spent most of my summer) feel more restrained, contained, and quiet. Societies that have more inequality (like the States, and parts of Spain & Portugal) feel more colorful, loud, and vibrant—leading to cultures bursting with expression and individuality. Whatever the reason (I believe its out of survival), both of us shared the perspective of how beautiful diverse cultures are, despite the traumatic way they came to be in our world.

For dessert, we shared torrijas, Spanish-style French toast so fluffy we couldn’t stop exclaiming “oh my god” to each other in between bites. We then thanked each other and parted ways, no intent of ever speaking again.

Our conversation taught me that simply uttering words our culture deems unacceptable is not grounds to dismiss someone’s humanity. In America, we have *so* many phrases that ring the alarm and make us quick to judge (a big one while traveling: Where are you from? Are you Chinese / Japanese / [insert Asian heritage]?) When in actuality, people usually have good intent, and it takes just a bit of human-to-human connection to get to the truth of things.

It also reminded me that language is imperfect, and that our list of what’s “acceptable” is not only rapidly evolving, but is also hyper-specific to our own communities. So, the next time you feel like you want to judge or dismiss someone, what might it look like to get curious instead? How can you dig deeper, and listen with skill? What happens when you connect deeply with the humanity in all living beings? What does a world without cancel culture or carceral thinking look like, a world where everyone receives the kindness & grace we need to grow and evolve? I have faith that we can get there. I have faith in us.