Hello, world (i.e., "El Regreso a la Blogosfera")
I realize the last time I've really written anything was -- well -- last year. So far 2008 hasn't been productive, but it hasn't been all too slow, either. I'm going to class, going out with friends. The usual things people do.
I'll write about Brazil at some point, but I am still waiting for inspiration to strike. In the meantime if anyone wants to give me a job... I am taking requests! :-D
I have a new life-plan for the moment (or the hour, because it might change). I'm thinking work for a couple of years and then do something ridiculous -- like apply for a Fullbright, go to South America, Peace Corps, one of those. I need to do some research into it, but I've realized that I need something to look forward to. Something to work towards. What do normal people work towards? I've been thinking back to my La Madrileña days -- I have been reading over some of my [terribly grammatically incorrect and run-on] essays from last year. With all their "vocal vomit" and over-enthusiasm, they were authentic; and with all the problems I encountered there, worthy or not, travel was the one thing I looked forward to most. (So too, it would be unfair to say that I do not look forward to returning home. I do.) Just as a person -- an individual -- I got a lot out of it. But more than ever now, I believe that most things in life are (though the saying is trite!) about the journey, not the destination.
I invited Masha and Alena to a recent outing with my roommates at the Tibetan restaurant in Davis Sq., and we had a small debate on the nature of "belonging" that I have been re-thinking. We talked about the nature of "nation" against "community". The nature of "nationality", and even the nature of "nationalism" -- all themes that, in my opinion, have been current veins throughout my growing up, my education, my travels, and even my relationships with others. Inasmuch as individualism and not "fitting in" is a reality, so too is the desire for something greater; a sense of normalcy, perhaps, that isn't feigned. A concrete role, I suppose, but one that isn't limiting to its own constructed cuccoon as defined by a lowest common cultural denominator. These are all normal things for soon-to-be-graduates to think about, but with an extra layer of past-meets-present-meets-what-could-have-been.
Perhaps that is why, although I do not plan actively to move away from Boston at this point (after all, this is my home), I feel a constant urge to go somewhere else but not for long -- if only to rediscover home once more. In Spain, I felt for the first time that my being entirely "foreign" (and not just foreign-born, like I am here, because in the United States I am home) was something I enjoyed and treasured. In Brazil, I saw, however, how national identity and personal identity -- pride in one's country, being one among those who share your language, your background, your mixed ethnicity -- gave the local population a distinct sense of nation, not just state -- despite all of the state's problems. (This is where the intro to international relations definitions come in -- if you're interested, look up the difference!)
I was a guest in Brazil although I had once lived there. I am not sure why there in particular, but I acutely felt that although I may belong to a state (two, in fact!) I am not true member of any nation. Perhaps that's because I was in a beautiful country that's quite distinctive on its own, whose people share a uniqueness among Latin Americans. But I have a home and family and friends, and I have a country that I grew up in. Even though I despise its popular music (and "football"). Why has this continued to be an issue for me throughout the years? And especially now, when I've long come to terms with -- and take pride in -- being a cultural pastiche?
As much as I believe in international communication and the idea that above all, we are all humans with our distinctive cultures, I cannot help withhold some good-natured envy for those who, while remaining multicultural and communitarian in outlook, have retained a sense of belonging to a nation apart from its politics. Humans are social creatures, and a nation encompasses basic guidemarks of a concrete civilization: language, ethnicity, land, birth, compatriots. All those things are scattered now, post-globalization. But even had we never moved here I would not have belonged to the "Russian nation". (I see what Russia is now, and maybe I would not even want to.)
I do find, in my own feelings and situation, a sense of peculiar beauty because of the randomness of it all; a greater, enriched outlook on cultural forms of expression; at age 22, hundreds of interesting stories and travel experience that most people don't see in their lifetimes... but sometimes I wonder if there are others, like me, hoping to find something to replace that one "impossible" that long ago escaped in the name of a more prosperous, easier life.
