Mi voyage

 My travels for my job has taken me city-hopping across the United States for the past two months. It has been indeed fun and enlightening experience to have gone and seen the different parts of America. I enjoyed the opportunity to meet different people, and see how Americans from all overlived. Before this, I had never quite understood why Americans are so particular where their hometown is.  As a tour guide during my college days, I noticed that fellow tourists love to identify themselves with their hometowns. They are not just Americans, but they are of a particular state and a specific town. They trace their lineage as well. 

Now that I have seen with my own eyes some of these places, I can see why the denizens of these places are so proud of where they are from. America, despite being a melting pot of cultures, is still in effect, a country of small towns and heritage. The American dream is a local realization of a bigger picture. Every person may dream of going elsewhere, the Big Apple, and the such, but they recognize the importance of where they are from, their past relative to the present. It is like a testimony of "I may be here now, but where I am from is what got me here, and I want you to understand that."

I for one is a stranger to this land. Yes, I have spent the past five years of my life here, and I have come to identify myself as a Virginian of sorts. Some of my fellow Virginians may choose to denounce me on this claim, stating that I wasn't born here, I am not an American citizen etc. However, I would like to point out that I was educated in the second oldest college in this country; and was baptized, confirmed and served in one of the first churches of this nation, I have done all this while in Virginia. In more ways than one, I have walked in the footsteps and shadows of all the famous Virginians who were amongst forefathers of this nation. Therefore I feel I have the right to claim myself a Virginian despite what others may say.

Even so, I must also admit to the fact that I am a wayfarer. A dragonfly who touches upon the pond ever so lightly before taking off again. A hummingbird buzzing about from flower to flower, petal to petal for nectar. I honestly do not know where home is... they say home is where the heart is, then I will tell you that my heart is scattered across the globe where a familiar face may be found. even as I am typing this, I have loyalties spread far and wide, across oceans and nations. My parents and immediate blood relatives are overseas in Thailand, Hong Kong and China. My friends, the many whom I hold so dear to my heart are dispersed across their individual places geographically, mentally and spiritually. So where is my heart, where do I belong? Nowhere I suppose except in the hearts of those who choose to remember me. 

My physical maybe stationary in one place, and perhaps that place can be called a temporary home/shelter. Yet my spirit and heart take no sanctuary in one single place physical, they seek no asylum within the confines of race, city nor any human measurements. I am a wild being, restlessly seeking serenity and tranquillity in the midst of unrest. Perhaps I am destined to be a sea of grey for those who prefer black and white.