“…And as you see, this is only for those which will enjoy, the boring (people)…Out!” (Rodriguez, 2004).
Several years ago, I had a friend that used to say “hola arabe,” every time he saw me on the streets of my old neighborhood. He once explained to me that because of my skin color, when I have short hair and a long beard I look like an Arab man. This never bothered me because I have no negative opinions toward Arab people. Four quarters ago, I met Hussam in my first English class at OSU. Hussam is from Palestine, and after we became friends he told me that when we met he almost spoke to me in Arabic because he thought I was an Arab man. It was funny to hear this because at the time I had not shaved my face for few days, and the comment made me think about my old friend. People do not know who I am and I want them to know me. I want to have the opportunity to tell people about me and to share my story with you…who am I?
While living in the U.S., some people have asked me if I got wet when I crossed the border from Mexico to the U.S. This derogatory question is not amusing, and I tell them that I flew to this country. Sometimes I think about myself and wonder “what is wrong with my skin color?” and then I ponder that maybe it is the accent that I have when I speak. Who am I? This is still a very difficult question for me to answer. I guess I am confused because I know people that were born in the U.S. and they state that they are from another country. How is that possible? For example, my friend Vinci was born in Pennsylvania and he looks and dresses like an American. His parents are from Italy, but Vinci always tells people that he is Italian while I think he is American. How does this self-identity work for some people? I do not know how to resolve this problem yet. I have started to think about my own identity in order to find a solution.
My father and all of his family are from Genoa, Italy. My mother and all of her family are from the Andes of Peru. I come from El Rimac, a “rumbero” neighborhood in Lima, Peru, and I still remember that place:
“Those who leave, do not return, rairumbaracaran laleilolai…”
(Rodriguez, 2004).
I am very different from my father and very different from my mother. I was not born in Italy or in the Andes. For some reason I was born in El Agustino, the most dangerous district in Peru. I grew up in a suburb area called Chaclacayo and I spent all of my teenage years and early adulthood in El Rimac, where people dance and sing songs:
“…I’m always with my guitar singing sounds of celebration”
(Rodriguez, 2004).
I like all types of food such as Italian, American, Greek, and Chinese. These foods taste good and satisfy my appetite. When I think about Peruvian food I have a different feeling because this is the food that makes me happy. Also when thinking about El Rimac:
“No one leaves here until the sun rises…listen, now we are in rhythm…”
(Rodriguez, 2004).
A lot of things go through my head when I ask myself who I am. I reminisce about “rumba,” El Rimac, Andes, food, people, music, language, and walking on the streets with my friends whistling to pretty girls:
“…I’ll stay with the good ones, with the sweetie of all my people”
(Rodriguez, 2004).
Who am I? How can I describe my identity? I am not Italian but I would love to visit Italy. I am not from the Andes but I have spent time there and I still have family there. I am a U.S. citizen but I will never be an American…unless you let me!
Who am I? That is still a very tricky question for me to answer. I am “rumba,” happy food, El Rimac, the Andes, and love for family and friends. I can dance salsa music if I want. I also sing salsa songs:
“I tell you what is born will not grow…” (Rodriguez, 2004).
I wear blue jeans and Alpaca gloves. I like wine and I know how to make sangria. I know some words in Italian and Quechua, and I speak Spanish and English. I believe in peace and love for other people. I can be a party if you want me to be one. I am the one that some people dislike, a dark-skinned immigrant that speaks with an accent. My blue passport says that I am from The United States of American and born in Peru. I am a person like you, I am your friend and I will be everything you want me to be, but first you have to let me be… I have liked salsa music since I was a child. I learned how to dance salsa by listening to my soul and heart. My culture is mixed with my blood, which is something that I always think about:
“…Te digo lo que nace no crece” (I tell you what is born will not grow) (Rodriguez, 2004).
I grew up in Lima, Peru. I then lived in Spain and I have now been living in the U.S. for seven years. I think that when a person spends some time in a place, that person becomes the place. I spent most of my life in Peru and that is what I am and who I am. Now the U.S. is my new home, and this is going to be my new cultural identity and my new background. I am an American, and that is what I would like you to understand. You have to let me be…Who am I? That is still a very tricky question for me to answer, perhaps you can help me.
No comments:
Post a Comment