Truly International
“So…” said the South Asian Conan O’ Brien look-alike that sat across from me. He had the same lop-sided poufy hair, distinguishable side part and tall gawky gait but unfortunately lacked the comical trademark pigmentation and humorous charisma that has so endeared us to Coco.
His ‘so’, left hanging in the air, flew around with no direction like an abandoned plastic bag – back and forth – here and there – uninterrupted. Awkward Silence crossed her legs like a lady and quietly took a seat in my family living room alongside my parents, his parents and my elder sister as we went through the confused motions of your average rishta viewing. My eyes remained downcast in annoyance – which Brown Coco obviously mistook for traditional coyness – and he continued with more draining drivel about his medical pursuits to fill the space. My older sister, keen to make conversation a two-way street and knowing the predictable pride with which I wear my ‘Third Culture Kid’ badge, decided to play cupid by casually asking Brown Coco: “Do you like traveling?” – my eyes looked up to make a connection – ears anxiously waiting to hear city names and countries dance off his tongue and give way to my enthusiastic rapid fire responses: “I lived there!” “I went there!” “I want to go there!”
“I went to Florida last year. That was pretty cool.” He responded.
“Nothing overseas?” – Finally some dialogue from my side, much to my parents’ relief.
“Nope!” He said with a girlish giggle – “Well, I went to Pakistan 10 years ago. But it was dirty. Wouldn’t want to go back again. I prefer travel in the US.” And so, my eyes went back to counting the wooden tiles on the floor, Awkward Silence returned to graciously sipping her tea and my parents tried to compensate for the lack of chemistry by noting down every common connection the families shared.
When goodbyes were exchanged, I went to the basement. My father promptly followed. He let me watch “The Daily Show” for 10 minutes, before interrupting with a cheesy grin and a breathless “I think that went really well! He’s a nice boy! The choice is yours, but we are here to facilitate! Marriage is an important milestone in life. If you aren’t interested that’s fine – but if you are, let us know!!”
“I’m not interested.”
“…Why? You’re never interested. Why would you not be interested? He’s tall like you. He’s a doctor. His mom likes you…”
“He’s not international. I mean, he doesn’t even LIKE travelling.” – Apparently, this wasn’t going to suffice as an acceptable explanation. Not only was it met with borrowing eyebrows but I could see the throbbing of his temples –pulsating faster with every passing nanosecond.
“International? Are you international??” – An obvious trap.
“Yes. I grew up in Indonesia and Sudan AND I travel almost every year.” – duh! (I fell for the obvious trap).
My father pursed his lips into a knowing “hmmm.” Then came his sound-bites, that single handedly deflated my “international” ego… My father (accurately) pointed out that I was a product of circumstance. “My career enabled your travel. You should be grateful, not everyone has had this opportunity– where would you have been if I hadn’t been posted overseas? Would you have traveled as much then? Would you have been as aware? Unless you can answer this with any certainty, don’t judge others. Don’t be so arrogant.”
Internally, I lined up all my retorts and repeated them silently during the long pauses my father used to drive home his point. My gaze held strong towards the muted Daily Show. My father returned upstairs.
A year later, by the time I had graduated and begun my internship at the National Democratic Institute of International Affairs (NDI) – my international ego had had sufficient time to heal its wounds and reclaim a sense of entitlement as a “truly” global citizen. NDI offered a reaffirmation of this, putting me in a room with other interns who hailed from international settings and diplomatic families – we were citizens of the world and eager to reorient ourselves eastward again.
My team of NDI interns looked like a United Colors of Benetton poster. In the small room we shared, we talked about our identity crises as global citizens caught between multiple worlds – our host countries, our countries of origin and the US. We sent each other articles written by Pico Iyer to haughtily highlight the shared cool confused elements that took center stage in defining our personalities and made us uniquely identical. During these conversations, Jason (the East Asian intern) would be anxiously listening rather than participating – one day, when the spotlight turned to him – Jason told us how he hadn’t even had a passport until he was 21. He grew up in Washington in a fairly homogenous middle class urban setting – no one in his family and barely anyone from his high school had ever traveled outside the US. After graduating from college, he got his passport on his own and went to Rwanda to work for an international justice mission for a year. He then traveled to Tamil Nadu for the summer to work for another NGO – and was heading off to do a backpacking trip through the Silk Route.
It took Jason – with his pale complexion, green eyes and thin wired glasses – to emphasize what my father had said to me following Brown CoCo Gate. Here was a kid who had had no childhood exposure outside the US, compared to the rest of us with our international schooling, study abroad programs and globe trotting vacations. And yet, he was equally aware in knowing that that there was a world outside of his – and he was trying fervently to leave an imprint on it through his do-good pursuits.
It is effortless to have an international identity when you’ve had the benefits of going to an international school that promotes UN day as the biggest event of the semester and takes you on immersion fieldtrips to remote villages that worship death. But, what Jason demonstrated was a truly international identity – an international identity that had developed in a non-international setting – and, shamefully, it was more heartfelt than mine. Whereas I had been enabled by my father, paid-for tickets, my schooling and my circumstance – Jason had been enabled by his self, his passion, his funds and despite his circumstances.
To me, Jason is what represents a truly international identity. It was a lesson to not always assume that the love for this world and global citizenship belongs only primarily to us unanchored nomads. The world is no doubt getting smaller and smaller and people like Jason are, fortunately, becoming more commonplace. While staying at a hostel in Barcelona, there were several Jasons; Similarly, in Dubai I’ve met both varieties – third culture kids and global newbies – that are drawn to the UAE’s cosmopolitan identity – and it is the newbies who truly appreciate their surroundings and are eager to explore it with a fascination that a lot of us “international” kids take for granted. They’re changing the world by leaping blindly into it and it is a passion to be admired and encouraged.
A truly international identity is represented by this breed of global citizen. Someone who develops a consciousness from his/her living room. As the world becomes more and more integrated, yielding a domino effect which is pervasive through our economic, political, social and environmental spheres – it is important to recognize that being “truly international” is not only a right to those that have grown up straddling borders, but also a responsibility of every global citizen. As the world becomes more international – so should we. This world is at your fingertip and developing a sense of civic responsibility, not just to a nation but to the planet as well as your fellow global citizens is something which is in within reach of all of us, should we want it – even brown Coco.
– Rehana Raza-Azim
