Who Am I?

I was hiking the trail around a beautiful lake with my family. It was a perfect summer day in the mountains. Beautiful blue skies were enchanting as they reflected in the alpine lake we were circling on our hike. All of the picnic tables close to the trailhead were occupied with families enjoying their meal. Blue Jays were hopping from one branch to another keeping their keen eyes out for a few crumbs of food left behind on the picnic tables and on the ground.  Kids were running around throwing rocks in the lake, dipping sticks in the shallow waters close to the shore, and gingerly dipping their toes in the cold water. Some kids were watching the tadpoles and small fish congregating in the shallow waters close to the shore.

The shore was lined with reeds, grasses, and colorful shrubs. Brightly colored canoes were floating in the lake. The lakeshore was dotted with people casting their fishing lines hoping to catch fish. Hikers were dodging the fishing hooks as they walked past the people casting their fishing lines too busy to notice the passers by. The trail itself was crowded with family groups and friend groups hiking along the loop trail that goes around the lake taking little spurs into the forest around the lake. The benches along the trail were teaming with people sitting down to take in the views around the lake and gaze at the snow covered mountains towering over in the distance.

We were making our way back to the trailhead when we encountered a large family group. There was an elderly lady who was wearing a brightly colored kaftan style dress, a middle aged woman, and two kids under the age of ten. The two women were sitting on a bench along the trail as the kids played on the lake shore.   

It is customary to say hello to fellow hikers in my neck of the woods. I said hello to the two women. We commented on the gorgeous weather and the beautiful deep blue lake in front of us. The conversation turned to her beautiful dress. She told me where she got it from. My family was patiently waiting for me to finish my conversation to get back on the trail to continue our hike back to the trailhead. It is all too common for me to strike up conversation with strangers on hikes, grocery runs, and other shopping runs whenever we are out and about. My family has gotten used to my need for tiny interactions over the years. My older one used to complain about my habit of stopping and chatting with strangers when he was younger. I am happy to report he picked up my trait as he got older. Now he is the one who strikes up conversation when we are out and about.

I was just about to say bye and resume our hike, when the elderly lady asked me, “Where are you from?” This question is all too familiar to me. I have been at the receiving end of this inquiry more times than I care to count over the last three decades. I went with my first routine response of, “I am from here!”. She followed up with a second all too familiar question, “But where are you originally from”. I smiled and said “I crawled all the way from India when I was a baby, How about you? Where are you from?”. She appeared displeased. but replied, “I was born in St. Louis and moved here 22 years ago” with an emphasis on the “born” and  the “22 years”.

I said, “Nice! This is a beautiful place to set down your roots and settle down. I fell in love with these mountains when I moved here three decades ago”. Now she looked more annoyed and said “Really” as if she was surprised to hear that I was almost a native to this area. I wouldn’t know for sure if she didn’t like the fact that I lived in this area longer than she had or if she didn’t like me asking her where she was from.

The question “Where are you from” is a tricky one to be on the receiving end of. Some people ask the question as a conversation starter to find a common connection. Some people enquire about my obvious Indian ancestry talking about their travels to India or a family member of Indian ancestry. Some people follow up with the, “Where are you from originally” question. It comes across as they want to know “Who am I” leaving me wondering if they are intending to convey the message that,  “You don’t look like you belong here.”

I don’t particularly get taken back by the question and the perceived implication itself. It brings up several  questions in my head:

• “Who am I?”
• “Where do I belong?”
• “Am I still that little girl who grew up in villages moving from
  place to place like a nomad as my father’s job took us from
  one village to another in the country of my birth?”
• “Am I still that child and young adult who left friends and
  teachers once every two years moving from place to place
  and school to school?”
• “Am I still that foreign student who moved to the other side of the
  globe with just a few books and clothes to start a new life in a foreign
  country?

I was a perpetual newbie and an outsider all through my childhood and into adulthood. There is an upside to this nomadic lifestyle. I have the ability to transplant myself in new places and situations with relative ease all through my childhood and as an adult. 

These mountains and lakes call me and this is where I feel at home. This is one place on this earth that I feel I belong. Yet it appears some people don’t think so.

• “Do they make that call based on the color of my skin
  or the accent?”
• “Does it really matter what people I owe nothing to
  think of me?”

This question used to bother me a lot more during my younger days. It no longer irks me and it amuses me instead. I pause when I hear the question giving them a chance to explain. People who ask the question as a conversation starter usually follow the question with some connection they have with India. Others don’t and I give them a response and ask them where they are from. It diffuses the question and the intent behind it.

We humans share 99.9% of the DNA with one another. We are eager to divide ourselves along the racial and tribal groups based on this 0.1% difference in our DNA. We all have the same struggles striving for a  better life. We laugh and cry with our friends and family. We want the best for our loved ones.

Having lived life as an outsider can be liberating if you choose to embrace it. You don't have to limit yourself to experiences and a way of life associated with a single identity. You can define yourself. You can float along without getting entrenched in a belief system or a particular lifestyle. You can truly see beauty in all cultures and traditions admiring the human imagination and creativity.

I am comfortable traveling to unfamiliar places, and navigating new foods, cultures, and languages. I am curious about my fellow humans striking up conversation with people I share the planet with. I don’t see myself as different in any situation. My career in open source enables me to connect and work with people from all over the world. I for one am happy to have a rainbow colored family and friends from numerous cultures spanning the globe.