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In My Country...

Many years ago, I dated a girl who was half Laotian and half Chinese. I liked that even though she was born in Canada, she had these backup cultures on which she could form her world view, just like I did. When we talked we'd sometimes get into discussions about things like the different ways in which Canadians, Romanians, Laotians, or Chinese prepare chicken. "I ate chicken feet and chicken hearts back in my country," I'd say. We'd both be grossed out (because that just isn't done in Canada) even though it's not unusual in our backup cultures to eat everything but the beak.

Then one day she said to me, "You're always talking about your country, but it's kind of boring." Ouch. She wasn't saying Romania is boring though, she meant that the cultural discussions we had were less interesting than talking about work, movies, music, and other random everyday Canadian stuff. Needless to say, we didn't stay together very long.

It's a bit weird that I'd still remember that, but not surprising. It's the brutally honest things that people tell you about yourself that tend to stick. And I did talk a lot about my country. Romania was - and still is - worth talking about. It's also because most of my friends and the people with whom I would interact came from so many different places. They too would start stories with the words, "In my country..." and I could see in their eyes how their memories transported them across the oceans and the continents that now separated them from their native land.

I can safely say my favourite thing about living in Toronto was the number of cultures one could encounter on a daily basis. If you're learning a new language you can find natives to help you practice. If you're craving international food you can find restaurants serving entirely authentic dishes. If you want to date a half Chinese, half Jamaican Toronto's the spot. It's fascinating to be part of a multicultural society, but there's still something missing as long as you're away from home. You can try to fill the void with a good job, with new friends, with new experiences, and with all kinds of entertainment, but there will always be this other place, (not so) far away.


Comments

  1. Beautiful photo. Greetings from Montreal.

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  2. Found this blog through Google. I was born in the USA, in Oklahoma, to parents of German and Swiss extraction. Although we visited Germany and Switzerland when I was young, I felt American through and through and was eager to forget my Germanness (my germanity?). When I later saw the joy with which Germans celebrated the Berlin Wall coming down, something stirred inside of me and I had an urge to really get to know this country of my ancestors. I started visiting Germany on my vacations, especially the eastern parts I had never seen before. To make a long story short, something awakened inside of me, a love for my country of origin and a longing to live there. l finally did for six years and they were some of the happiest of my life. I have now been living in Japan for ten years. It's nice, but I still dream of Germany and the place I once lived. Is there such a thing as a home country which is in your "blood" that can awaken at a later stage in life? I still talk to anyone who will listen about my time in Germany and Romania (I often traveled there when I lied in Germany). No one seems to get tired of it. Maybe that's because Japan is a very homogeneous culture and foreigners are a relatively rare occurrence here. In America, I was just another person with a European background. Ho-hum, join the crowd.

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