Citizen of the World

This afternoon over Intelligentsia coffee and a raspberry chocolate mousse cup, my friend/spiritual guide Megan informed me that, for those whose hearts are stirred by travel, God either gives a passion for a specific country, or for people.

My heart is for PEOPLE.

I can never decide which culture, which country, is most exciting for me. Megan told me a couple years ago that this is because I belong in heaven, not earth–and heaven is where one can experience the beauty of all cultures together, because their beauty constitutes God’s complete humanity-wide image. But for now I live on earth, and I am trying to find where I belong. I tried to find it in America, in Italy, and now Chile. Next, I hope Africa.

For now, I impatiently skip around on my iPod from Celia Cruz to Henri Dikongue, trying to find out where I feel I truly belong, where I can live for 5 years straight and not feel a calling toward another far-off land. It will be a great challenge to decide, since there are so many cultures to love.

1. West African–I connect to West African culture through their adopted language French, and through West African dance. I can’t believe these people. What other people on earth, when singing, will sing as loud as they possibly can? What other people, when dancing, will spread their arms out as far as they possibly can? What other people, when speaking, will use every syllable known to man, with as much energy and mouth movement as the people of West Africa? It is fantastic! They seem to want to feel everything, touch everything, live as far as they can. I have a hunch that West Africans live to the brim of their lives, bubbling over with nascent energy that comes from a long lineage of people who love to be alive, and express themselves in the most bold, exaggerated, and complete of ways.

2. Latin American– Having visited Guatemala a couple times, living with a Mexican currently, working with six Latinos, and taking salsa lessons once a week, I think I can make a safe generalization that Latin people are very easy to love. I think this is because they love so easily. The heart of a Latino seems to know no end; there is room for love for everyone, and lots of it. They love and love and love–love music, love dancing, love food, love singing, love talking, love listening, and love people. From the most low form of this endless affection (Mexican men whistling at me and calling me “mamacita” from their cars) to the highest form (boundless hospitality and grace), it is so evident that I cannot begin to understand the racism so prevalent against such people in America. A more warm and inviting group I have much trouble imagining.

3. Italian– I must say, coming back from a semester of studying and living and eating lots of gelato in Italy, I felt rather alienated from the Italian people. I felt like I didn’t understand their values–they all seemed rather exhaustible to me. I mean, sure, “la bella vita” is certainly enjoyable–no one’s complaining about the food or scenery here–but it’s enjoyable for about a month, and then the values seem a little empty. Really, Italy? An entire civilization historically dependent on the dessert course? But, as I became more reflective upon the people, their values, and their common history, I learned how really quite lovely it all was. Italians have suffered centuries of corruption, greed, and deception even at the national government level, and I do believe the word “mafia” is an Italian word, no? What is left to trust but beauty? Beauty for them became the only thing that was consistent, the only thing they could fall back on. No wonder they will accept a corrupt governor before they will accept a mediocre opera singer or marinara sauce. They are a country whose people refuse to live in any other manner than constantly indulging in life’s beautiful extravagances. Who can argue with that?

American– As an American wanderer, I have met plenty of other American wanderers. Though I enjoy the international community of travelers, one thing always really bugs me about most of the Americans: they all hate America. I’m of the first to admit that America should not be the leading power, nor do I think it should be particularly blessed by God. But that’s because I think every country should have equal power, and that God should bless every country. I think America has a really special culture, one whose father looks like Woody Guthrie playing the harmonica out on the bayou, whose mother looks like the Statue of Liberty and beckons those from all around the world to enjoy her riches and opportunities. I know that for most immigrants, it is more like the American nightmare than the American dream. But I also know that we are all immigrants here, and that somehow we have managed to form a common culture that is constituted of all these fabulously different states and a comparatively stable and trustworthy government. I was born in (San Francisco) California, grew up in (Seattle) Washington, went to college in Chicago (Illinois) and my home base is now in (the suburbs of D.C.) Maryland. I love how different all these places are, and I love that they are all distinctly American. I love African-American culture and the incredible artistic submissions that community has given the world. I think the presence of so many heritage festivals and events is pretty special. And I think swing dancing is pretty great too.

Japanese– I think the most impressive aspect of Japanese culture is the food. I never would have guessed, while flying over the long stretch of ocean between Seattle and Tokyo to participate in a high school exchange program in Kobe that I would love the food so much, and miss it when I left. I am so impressed by the attention to health that Japanese people give. Not only gastronomically speaking, but all kinds of health–physical (stretching and seaweed and lots of walking), spiritual (finding your center is pretty big in Japan), asthetic (simplicity all the way), relational (lots of respect over there–you simply MUST bow, all the time), and environmental (many bikes). I am dazzled by how calm and gentle the Japanese people are, how attuned they are to nuance. They are so graceful and elegant and they can feel the slightest change or movement in their midst, like sensitive little birds. They pay so much attention to the world around them, which is probably why they are so careful to create such delicious and organized food. Mm…I could really go for some udon soup about now.

Arab– One of the most fantastic things about Arabs to me is the way they speak Arabic. It always shocks me how passionate I will see Arabs speaking with each other, as though they are about to get in a fist fight, flailing their arms around and yelling. But, at the end of the conversation, they will laugh and shake hands as though the only words exchanged were “Hi, how are you? Oh good!” which isprobably true. I love how feisty Arabs are, how strong, and how passionate. I firmly believe that Arabic must be the most romantic language, with approximately 1,000 ways to say “I love you.” And get this: the most common way literally means “I would die for you.” Can’t get much more passionate than that! The poetry that comes out of Arab culture is something else–so completely sensual and energetic I feel like I must censor myself, and little Arab children are the most consistently excited and enthusiastic people you will ever meet.