The Homeland

Day 1: After nearly twenty years of wondering when I would get back to the homeland I'm here! It took two flights, three continents and nearly twenty hours to get to Adis Abeba, Ethiopia. My cousin who works for Mercy Corps, the non-profit organization I will be an intern at for the next two months, picked me up at the airport along with his friend who is a member of Ethiopia's congress. The roads were bumpy as they were full of potholes so people drive all over the road with no regard to which side they should be legally driving on. Shacks are down the street from western-style gated homes. Thankfully, almost all the signs have the English translations printed below the Amharic. We went to a nice restaurant to eat dinner. The first thing I noticed was a white, European man talking on the phone. Even though I had been in Ethiopia for less than an hour seeing a non-black person made me turn back to look again. Only 24 hours ago I was the one who looked different in America and prompted heads to turn. It will take a while to get used to it.

The dinner was great especially compared to German airplane food. I thought it would be fitting for my first meal in Ethiopia to be tibs (suqaar or beef stew), injera and Fanta. It's the meal I always eat in east African restaurants in the States but now I'm eating east African food in east Africa. It's kind of mind boggling.

I haven't been back to the Continent since I was two-years-old when my family left Somalia. Ethiopia officially has 83 different ethnic groups within its borders, Somalis being mostly in the north eastern part of the country (Jigjiga). It's a weird experience to know my grandparents' grandparents' grandparents lived in this region of the world and here I am as the long lost daughter back to learn her roots.

I want to see my grandma who I haven't seen since she left Atlanta two years ago. I want to meet my other grandma, my uncles and aunts and hundreds of cousins and second-cousins. I feel like I'm related to half of Jigjiga (where my family lives). I am Somali so it may not be much of an exaggeration. I also want to become more comfortable speaking Somali. I want to experience my culture authentically, not the Somali-American version I practice. I want to see the conditions I want to change first-hand.

In America, I am the Somali who isn't American enough. Here, I am the American who isn't Somali enough. It's an awkward position for many Americans of immigrant heritage. I'm going to embrace it because I'm lucky to have two homelands and two people. It opens your eyes to the humanity we all have in common. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I can't wait to take advantage of it.

I am using the hotel's computer right now. Eight hours ahead of Atlanta, it is almost 2 a.m. here though my body is telling me it is only 6 p.m. Either way, I am exhausted and ready to sleep. Until next time, peace and love.

Yasmin
Tuesday 12/13/10