From Cambodia to Cranston, all the way to Calheta, Cape Verde
December 14th, 2005 by Sarin
Typical conversation had with a Cape Verdean stranger:
“So where do you live in America?”
“You ever heard of Providence?”
“Uhh…nao”
Sigh…”My house is an hour from Boston”
“So you live in Boston!”
“…yeah..”
“Do you know _______”, (fill in blank with name of Cape Verdean relative)
“Sorry, no.”
“Why not?”
“Well Boston is a big big city”. A statement I would never say in the states, but something I have to emphasize considering Cape Verde is almost the size of a grain of rice.
Following the conversation concerning my home in America, next comes the topic of my skin color.
“Why aren’t you white?”
“My parents are Cambodian. You see, I was born in Thailand, the next country over, but moved to America when I was a baby and I have lived there ever since. Hence, I consider myself American.”
“Why are your eyes so small?”
“I don’t fucking know.”
I thought it would be easy to explain Providence considering the Cape Verde & Boston connection. But then I didn’t that I would have to explain, why I’m not white and why I wasn’t born there and how they have never heard of Providence. And so goes my ongoing confusion of what I and others should consider my home, where I’m from, and my confusing heritage. Basically, I’m full blooded Cambodian, but I’ve never set foot on the country. I was born in Thailand, supposedly granted citizenship, but have no ties back to the country whatsoever. I’ve lived most of my life in America, call myself an American, and I’m not even white! This really really confuses Cape Verdeans.
I have had one conversation with a Cape Verdean although that somehow was not confusing to him at all. He spoke perfect English, and the more I explained it, the less I had to explain. Turns out this guy was my neighbor across the bay at least a year or 2 in my life. I found him at a bar in my homestay town of Sao Domingos on a Friday night. First, I asked him why his English was perfect dead on, and what he was doing here at a remote bar. His answer: “I lived in Brooklyn for 6 years, and I’m friends with the owner of this bar”.
Thus explains his dead on English. And then I started talking in idiot terms. Basically anybody who have lived in Brooklyn for as long as he has should understand my street slang. I asked him if he’s ever been to Rhode Island, and he responds, “ oh, I lived in East Providence for 2 years.”
Whoah, East Providence! Small world! This guy lived literally across the bay from me, and now I am meeting him in an African country. He even pinpointed cultural landmarks in Cranston such as the local movie theater and will probably be able to find my house if I told him how. And so, in 2 minutes after talking to him, we were no longer foreigners to each other. Turns out my new friend is a Cape Verdean emigrant from Brava, settled in New York and the New England area, and is now returning back to the country for development opportunities in the island of Boa Vista. Small world, but it didn’t come as a suprise and there were more of these incidents to come.
As of today, I have met 6 returned Cape Verdeans who have lived in the New England area in the past. Mostly Massuchusetts, but they are familiar with Providence. The thing I find so crazy about it, is the first time I talk to them, I’m talking to them like a stranger. Broadly asking questions just to see what they are familiar with. Once I find out where they lived, I switch to the small scale and now start talking to them like they are my long lost neighbor. And being in another country makes it even more suprising.
So I never thought it before, but there is a schematic for explaining my background, and my heritage. Considering my unique situation, I found it interesting that I have to think about it. I didn’t think heavily about it before, but once you leave New England, I get tired of having to explain all the time.
For instance, if I’m talking to someone not familiar with the states, say a Cape Verdean, or a European tourist : I have to tell them that the closest city is Boston as they’ve never heard of tiny Rhode Island. Considering my skin color, I have to tell them that my parents are Cambodian, ie: that other small country next to Thailand.
If I’m talking to someone familiar with the states, but is maybe from the south of the west : I tell them I’m from New England (literally because New England explains better my network of friends and influences, and that New Englanders rarely leave New England). If they ask anymore, I tell them I went to school in New Hampshire, but grew up in Rhode Island. Then I have to remind them that the Providence area of Rhode Island is not the picturesque New England scenery that they imagine in their heads, and that the smallest state in the union is not as boring as it sounds.
If I’m talking to someone from New England : I gladly tell them I’m from Rhode Island first, with pride, and then Cranston assuming that they have heard of it. I could tell them more that I grew up in Providence, but that would confuse them into thinking I am just as corrupt as the city is. Then they ask what part of Asia I am from, and I tell them Cambodia. The next response, usually is: “Where is that?”
Finally, when I am in Cranston : I say I’m from Edgewood, with little assurance. Mainly because mostly everybody from Edgewood grew up in Edgewood, whereas I actually grew up in West Providence. And hence the identity crisis sinks in. Mostly everybody in Cranston has family in Cranston, but I can’t say the same. I guess I can say I live in Cranston, but considering my lifestyle, mindest, and the majority of Cambodian immigrants of Rhode Island were from Providence, I’d rather say I’m from Providence. Nobody in Rhode Island ever asks what part of Asia I am from, most of them have already guessed correctly anyway. In fact, plenty of them just don’t care, as long as I’m a Rhode Islander is all that counts.
Cambodia, America, New England, Rhode Island, Providence, Cranston, Cape Verde, Calheta. All my homes. It’s crazy to think or imagine what I’ll be calling home next.
Related Posts- Good Material about Cape Verde
- The good just reversed the bad
- My official Invitation
- My reasons for leaving the Peace Corps
i thought killer cars was about cars at first but this is my first reading of the blog. from what i’ve read it’s not so bad and i hope Sarin is safe and i wish to continue readin from killer cars.
i hope you find what you are looking for and that you eventually find your way. i look forward to readin about your journey. be safe and our prayers be with you.
Thanks!