Sometimes I feel this unexplainable desire to write. Whenever this happens and I begin to type away, the words seem to virtually flow through my fingers, almost as if they were written by someone else. It can be a small, mundane detail which captures my attention and sets thoughts in motion, conjuring up vivid images in my mind.
Today I am again feeling this urge – maybe as a result of some unusual encounters lately. Small things that add up to shape the overarching percept, which lures my mind into the distance. I am sitting on the train, cars are buzzing past, people streaming by, getting on and off the train. It almost feels surreal, as I am cocooned in my thoughts which echo the music that I listen to through headphones -Rodrigo y Gabriela. Gentle Flamenco tunes blend nicely with the golden texture of the sun, which seems to chase along the train tracks, appearing and disappearing like the stage setting in a theater.
Although the US presidential election dominates the political limelight, Austria is gearing up for its own smaller-scale political showdown, promising new hope and shrugging off previous mistakes. Burying the failures of the past underneath a layer of fairytale rhetoric, which is supposed to numb the mind into being oblivious to burning issues.
I remember passing by a campaign ad which read something like “Immigrating illegally will buy you a ticket back home”. At first the thought made me shake my head but then I couldn’t help laughing. What if you don’t have a home to begin with? What if you never had a home from the very day you were born? What if you never will have a “home” ? What if you only experienced the idea vicariously through others’ fervent pride and desire felt for their “homeland”?
Imagine that you have never had a true home that you were able to identify with a 100 % from the day you were born. You were labeled second best by the country you were born into, singled out as different yet again by the people you associate yourself with. Even if your adopted home gave you safety and a future to look forward to, you were never truly at “home”.You blend in, you never stand out on account of the color of your skin. The way you speak disguises you as one of them and yet your thoughts betray you, you feel torn, always wedged in between two opposing ends. Always stuck between two chairs , never with the feet firmly on the ground.
People whose heritage marks them out as different may be the ones who understand best. They may not even know anything about their ethnic origins, culture or their parents’ homeland and yet small cues will point like a sore thumb to the fact they are after all different.
But when you meet someone else who has walked in your shoes, regardless of where they are at this point, you instantly form a strong bond beyond words - a mutual understanding. You have both never felt strong ties to any one place, staking claim to one destination on the map. Rather, you come to find rapport in a way, which allows for limits to be bent. This level of comfort follows your individual paths and is not rooted in one place or in geographical concepts but in the moment of your encounter.
