These questions about where I’m from really don’t bother me at all. Its a good chance to strike up a basic conversation with taxi drivers, cafe workers, neighbors, waiters, new friends and the random guy who stands on the corner near my apartment. Hopefully one day before I leave Beirut, I’ll be able to have that conversation in Arabic.
What I do find funny is learning where people assume I’m from if they don’t ask me first. Here in Beirut, I’ve had people ask me if I’m Brazilian (even when I’m not wearing my Capoeira uniform) which I can understand, if I’m from Africa (they rarely guess a country and instead go for the whole continent), from the Caribbean and today I had someone ask if I was from the Philippines. Um … THAT was a random guess.
On other trips I’ve been asked about being Indian, Israeli, and even Chinese (I’ll assume that last person was under heavy medication). Once, when traveling with my two dear friends Pam (half Korean, half Caucasian) and Rupa (Indian), we were asked if we were triplets. We laughed for days on that one.
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| Even dressed alike, I think “triplets” is a bit of a stretch. With Rupa & Pam in Costa Rica. |
But the most interesting question I get is the follow up question when I tell strangers I’m from America. America is not the answer many people are looking for. They often follow up with, “Yes, but where are you really from?”. Um – my parents are from New York. I know that’s not what their asking but I just like to mess with people. The truth is I have no idea where my people are from. I always shrug and say somewhere in Africa, plus some Native American and some Scottish ancestry.
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| THIS is where I’m from – My grandmother (holding the doll) and her family |
I had begun some genealogy research a few years back, but didn’t get very far past my great-grandfather’s generation back in Mississippi. In many countries I’ve visited, people have the benefit of knowing exactly where their family comes from. Even if they are living abroad, all the generations before them came directly from the same place. As for me, with history that was more likely than not impacted by slavery and shoddy documentation, the answer to “where are you from” usually relates to where I grew up, not necessarily where my roots were planted. One day I would love to be able to tell curious strangers what country in Africa, which Native American tribe I hail from, but for now, I’ll have to stick with “Ah-may-ree-ka”.
How about you. Is there one question you always get when you’re traveling. Do you mind being asked? Does your country of origin ever come into question?
When I was still traveling alone, people would always ask how old I was. When I said “27,” 28,” or even “30,” people would ask if I was married and inevitably, why I was traveling alone. It seemed very “foreign” to most people in other countries that a single girl/woman would want to travel all by herself. I would just explain that yes, I was alone, but being a teacher made me financially independent and the lucky winner of a total of 3 months of vacation a year. So there I always was…having the time of my life!
Its funny to me how quickly people will ask me “how old are you” as if they are asking what your name is. Yeah – I’m waaay too old to be single in many countries I visit. Well, at least you’ve solved THAT problem. 🙂
Loved this post….I too always get the where are you from and then the…no..really, where are you from!!!!!
Kenna
Thank you, Kenna! Glad I’m not the only one who gets grilled like that! Too funny. I’m going to start making stuff up. I think I’ll start saying from Upper Mongolia…:-)