Seeing Color

I already shared this old Soviet joke but the previous post makes it newly relevant.

An American spy trained for five grueling years to be deployed with a covert mission to the USSR. He learned the language to perfection, studied how people dress, walk, move. Finally, he’s ready for the mission. He crosses into the USSR and finds his way to a tiny Ukrainian village. An old grandma is walking along the street.

“Good morning, babcia,” addresses her the spy in perfect Ukrainian.

“Good morning to you, too, American spy,” says the babcia.

“But how? How did you know I was an American spy??” asks the stunned American spy.

“Because you are a Negro, son,” explains the babcia.