“Where are you from?” It seems like a simple question to ask a new acquaintance. It’s an easy question - easy to ask, easy to answer. It’s a question that people don’t struggle with.
The problem comes when the question, “Where are you from?” is directed toward someone who lives in two countries.
“Do you mean, where do I live currently? Or where did I grow up? Or where did I spend the majority of my life?” The question becomes more complicated than originally anticipated.
Traveling is a beautiful thing, and living in more than one country is eye opening. Two cultures are experienced. People that live in multiple countries tend to be bilingual or multilingual. They understand the interpersonal relationships better than others; they have different experiences and a different outlook on life. A problem arises when the international citizen doesn’t have a sense of belonging. Without this, their relationships are delayed or put second place until they find the belonging. Most people don’t understand the difficulties of traveling. There’s difficulties like constantly saying goodbyes - the kind of goodbyes that don’t end in, “See you later!” Although somehow, the friendships, memories, and experiences make it all worth it.
The two worlds I experience are extraordinary. Although I have lived in Peru for longer than the United States, I could not answer the question, “Where are you from?” I love and hate that question.
Here’s the short version of the complicated answer:
I live in the desert of a third world city of 9 million people and a midwest farmland town of 9 thousand people. I’ve lived in the States for a total of 5 years. Yes, I was born in the States, but I’ve only lived there for a total of 5 years. I like things like riding crowded transportation, but I also enjoy the peace of driving down country roads. There’s so much of a striking contrast I still have culture shock every time arriving in both countries.
I’ll never get to experience the satisfied “at home” feeling because my heart always longs to be somewhere else. I’ll never be able to call one place my true home because I will never be able to relate to the current location. In Peru, I’m the foreigner; in the United States, I’m the girl who lives overseas. My heart is torn everywhere I go. I know I have left pieces of who I am in both countries, and I won’t ever be complete. That’s okay; I’m a global nomad and, I like it that way.
