All I could see was the cowboy hat; the gait of a native ushering his family toward a horizon of better light. There was no resisting the temptation to pull my camera from my tiny pocket and snap away. But when I had finished relishing the moment, as I stood staring after them with a heart billowing in love for my native people and land, I felt pulled to glance to my left where his family stood watching, unbeknownst to me!
My mind panicked. Perhaps they were offended that I'd taken his picture without asking!
Without warning, Allison of Europe rose to the surface. Allison who greets people in French every day. The Allison I had been trying so hard to suppress!
"Bonjour! Je voulais juste prendre une photo de son chapeau !"
I could literally feel the shock run through my body. What are you doing? Speak English! And then... in my very best French accent (still unclear as to why I did this) I blurted out,
"I zust vant to take picture of American het!"
My gosh. Is it possible I just did that? Why, why, why?
The people smiled at my quaint foreignness while I nearly fainted in horror. And as my feet ran the rest of the path, I realized without a doubt that I am a foreigner wherever I go. Home is not here, and home is not there. Divine joke? I suppose it's time to embrace myself.
16 comments:
you made me smile with this post, and yes it is so easy to feel a foreigner
Oh you. You speak in a wonderful language to all of us right here. It's beautiful!
I love this. You always make my heart smile.
I just wish I could have been there to see (hear) it:D
hugs
This was totally unexpected. I imagine your heart was being pulled back towards your family after this happened? Somewhere between Switzerland and Kansas... xoxo
:) wonderful story!:)
Allison of Europe did a good job!!!!I am with you:)
Your home is not a place; it is where your heart is. Could it be your home is with The Russian, Little Darling, and your other two cherubim?
I think you have enough room in yours for both places.
Love you,
Debbie
LOL! Oh that is the best story. I can't speak a lick of French and still probably would have tried the same thing too. At least it sounds better than "Uh... Yeah I liked his hat." In plain ol' English. ;)
i love that you feigned 'foreignhood' to cover for the assumed intrusion. but hate that you feel like you have no homeland anymore! like someone said above, your home is Blogland where you have family all over the world...
This made me laugh. I feel the same way these days. I am not sure where is 'home' exactly. We keep telling Cullen we are going 'home' for Christmas and he responds 'But Mommy, Im already at my house.' I like the ideas from above that blogland is its own special home. Hope you are having a great week!
Where ever your heart is...is home.
AWESOME!
J
Chameleon Allison. You have the choice to blend or stand out which ever continent you are on. How fun is that?! And you dear, have a heart big enough to call all the world home.
What a lovely experience, you found the spirit I often find.
I remember this so well, your horror when you retold it at the end of the path. Perhaps it is not so much a sense of homelessness as a broader and overlapping place of home. This corner of Kansas certainly has room for you dearest sister-mine. And everyone you met loved you back!
I've been an expat for more than 22years and have always had the same problem ~ where is 'home'?
I now know its when all my family come together in one nest, wherever that may be.
I love the photo and the funny antics you went through. I wonder how you run with your camera?
A true blogger! :D
You need a pair of ruby slippers. Going "home" is so often emotional, a contrast of memories of what was and who you are now. Home is in your heart where the love of your family resides.
Home is where ever you feel loved. I say you are very lucky!! Loved this.
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