To live in a foreign country is something I always dreamed about and it came natural to me.
Cuando era joven, en mi casa se oía música griega de Mikis Theodorakis, el melancolico "Klezmer" judio, la grandiosa Mercedes Sosa, se oía música de muchos rincones del mundo.
Los amigos de mi mama vinieron de Dinamarca, de Inglaterra, de Polonia, de Somalia, de Corea, .
En la mesa había comida de todos estos países así que para mí, era normal comer comida coreana como “Tempura” lo que muchos años después iba a redescubrir en restaurantes de moda japonesa, habia ensalada de fideo al estilo coreano, Danish Apple Pie, Polish “Borschtsch”, all mixed with Greek influences and spices, that later on I would read about in fancy magazines.
It was more common for me to eat food, that many people would consider foreign than anything that others would consider typical for my country.
My friends at that time (and I mean Kindergarten, now) were not that divers: They came from Germany, Denmark, Turkey or the United States. When we moved to Frankfurt – myself aged 10 – we lived in a neighbourhood, where 70% of the population would have roots from other countries: Our neighbours came from Yugoslavia, Turkey, Portugal, Spain – just to name a few...
Now, during summer time, windows wide open, there was other music to listen to, other smells in the staircase. At school I had a good friend who often would invite me after school. Her mother was Italian, the father Greek, in her house there would be Italian food and Greek chatter or the other way round. She would always play the music of Eros Ramazotti :) and translate me all the lyrics, that’s why still today I can follow a certain line of Italian conversation. My half-French, half-German friends were nothing exotic at all. They would introduce me to the French 80s music of Indochine, Jeanne Mas and others, music I still listen too, and which gave me a hard feeling of nostalgia when listening to this music on the radio travelling France a couple of months ago.
Though my school was not very multicultural at all all of these experiences : my mother’s friends, their accents, their appearance, the food they cooked for and with us, the friends I made, the music I listened to, made me whom I am today.
I first noticed that, when at one of my first student jobs, most of the workforce weren't native Germans, they had Yugoslav, Greek, Arab, Turkish, Russian backgrounds. I felt right among them. I made friends with some of them and was introduced more thoroughly to Armenian, Turkish – and most of all! – Greek culture. And sometimes I felt they were more at ease with me, too… no questions asked, no weirdness, just relaxed normality and healthy interest.
My nephew is half-Spanish, his father is of extremeño (the Spanish region of Extremadura) heritage - he introduced me to important icons of Catalan culture: Lluis Llach, Serrat, Maria del Mar Bonet – when I told people in Catalonia, they wouldn't or couldn´t believe it: how could – of all Spaniards! – an extremeño initiate a German to Catalan culture…impossible – but to me it was natural. But it wasn't just cantautors of course, the music of Estopa (themselves "hijos de emigrantes extremeños en Catalunya") I knew before coming to Spain…
My love and interest for Spanish and Catalan culture made me move to Spain, after having spent a year in Australia: down under I worked and studied not only with Australians and Austrians, but also with people from China, Singapore and Nepal.
I even passed a brief period living and working in Thailand - again with people of all backgrounds among them Corea, Phillipines, Israel, Myanmar and India.
In Spain I met many people from the Latin American countries, who before I had barely ever met. Life in Barcelona gave me another opportunity to meet and work with people from Spain, England, Mexico, Brazil and Italy. I met people from Mexico, Cuba, Argentina, Uruguay, Ecuador, Venezuela, and Peru – made friends with some of them. And of course, in the end married a Chilean…Ah, and not to mention my dear friends from Switzerland! Very exotic race, too, they are! :)
I can feel at home anywhere - but the point is, after all these years, I can't call home the place where I live. I myself am too internationalized, too multi-cultural, that I can't feel at home in a place where even people from other European cultures, like myself, are constantly being labeled as "exotic". I know it's normal, and very few people have my experience and background - but I am fed up with it. Actually this post was supposed to be the introduction to the actual post on how I feel foreign here. I think this has to wait for a later post :)
