I Belong Everywere. I Belong Nowhere.

It's always an interesting experience when I come back to the US (or even Brasil) for a visit. I've definitely had some reverse culture shock, but in different ways than last year.

What sticks out in my mind from previous visits to the US - bear in mind that I was still living in Chimoio - is that I was shocked by how much concrete there is in the Bay Area. I got off the airplane and was overwhelmed by the overpasses, the sidewalks, the office buildings, the parking lots. Everything was industrial-looking and developed. Even the green spaces were planned out! So different from my reality at the time, which consisted of 2 paved roads in the city and most all structures being haphazardly put together, in need of some serious paint and plaster work, everything coated in a layer of red dust.

This time, as we have now been living in the big city Maputo for over a year, my impressions are different. No longer the bustle of the city shocks me, although everything is cleaner and more organized (and, resultingly, more character-less) here in the Bay Area. I think what has struck me the most this time around is how much commerce there is around here. Literally everywhere you look there is a coffee shop, a dry cleaner's, a furniture shop, a Target, a taqueria, a kitchen utensil store, an organic market. My mom said it's as if Walnut Creek (the specific are where she lives, a pretty affluent suburb) were just one gigantic, open-air shopping mall. I have to agree...

The other thing I noticed, after an afternoon hanging out in Berkely to celebrate my mom's birthday on Monday (we went to the Scharffen-Berger chocolate factory restaurant for lunch - pity I'm not super into chocolate!), was how "California-y" everyone around here is. I guess I should say how "Bay-Area-y" everyone is, because I'm aware that California, much like Africa, is unfairly lumped into a homogenous group quite often by people that live outside these respective places.

Anyhow, what I noticed was that freaking *everything* around here is organic, yoga, vegan, raw, pilates, healing, holistic, free-trade, Tibet, green, eco-friendly, recycled, liberal, Democratic and - above all - anti-Bush. In general, I'm totally in accordance with all of these things, but here it's become this overwhelming ideology. My mom compared it with the mindset of people in the red-red-Republican areas of Texas where everyone tends to be conservative, big-hair, corporate, SUV-driving patriots. Generalizations, I know. But it really stuck out at me how much people here - despite the undeniable diversity, both ethnic and cultural - still subscribe to this mass ideology and, in the process, become somewhat closed-minded. Try having a multi-sided conversation about any of the hot issues in this country with a typical Berkeley resident...

I had a little taste of how this would go when, while browsing through stones at a jewelry shop, the owner asked what I was doing in Mozambique. I told her that I was a consultant specialized in fundraising for private-sector projects. She raised an eyebrow and puckered up her mouth as if she'd eaten something sour.

"I just went to a talk at the University last week that was an expose of private fundraisers."

"Really?" I asked. "What did they have to say?"

She looked me up and down before responding, "it was about the unethical practices that fundraisers use to charge their fees, and the lack of regulating in the industry that allows them to abuse their position."

"That's interesting."

"I can only imagine what fundraising is like in Africa," she said, with a look of disapproval. "You know, I used to live in Africa."

"Oh, wow. Where did you live?"

"Cote d'Ivoire. I was in the Peace Corps. There is so much need there. People are dying of starvation. We need to do something to help the situation, and all our Government does is spend on the war in Iraq."

"Yep. It's complicated."

I let the conversation trail off. Without a good hour-and-a-half to spend, it's not worth it to even get into the details of what I think works and doesn't work in Africa.

Anyhow, despite the differences in my perspective between this year and last, there are a few culture shock items that remain the same. I still marvel at the fact that I'm not stared at everywhere I go just because I'm white and foreign. I still laugh at the fact that I'm stuck in this Purgatory between being used to driving on the left (Moz) and driving on the right (US). I've caught myself looking the wrong way before crossing the street here a couple of times. I still marvel at the variety of fresh vegetables and fruits, and cheeses - oh, the amazing cheeses you can get here. The US really is foodie heaven, and it's such a pity that the cheapest, most advertised choices are crap-filled, processed fast food and ready-to-eat entrees. (There I go sounding like a true Bay-Area resident.)

It also continues to amaze me how much people get stressed out over little, relatively unimportant details. I know I'm not immune to this, but I believe over the past 2 years I've really chilled out when it comes to getting worked up over little things that honestly, at the end of the day, don't matter one bit. Part of it is letting go, bit by bit, of the perfectionism that has plagued me my entire life. Another part is a reorganization of priorities that has come about, almost unconsciously, as a result of living in Chimoio and Maputo.

Now, when I hear a lot of people's conversations and observe their actions, I feel like I don't belong. I can't relate anymore to what it is like to throw a fit in a restaurant because there is no more Splenda, only Equal, and that is simply not acceptable. (True story, this happened in Rio with a friend of mine when we went out for drinks last week). I don't want to develop a superiority complex or anything, or come off as pretentious, but it's true that I feel like fish out of water. Part of me hates talking about my reality because I don't want to make other people feel bad, or come off as a show-off. At the same time, remembering that speech by Nelson Mandela, I don't want to play down what I do in life, I don't want to dim my star just to spare someone else a slight feeling of inadequacy. It makes it hard to fit in, hard to relate, hard to connect. Every once in a while I run across someone that I mesh with immediately. I felt like this last week when meeting Jenna. I have several old friends like this as well. Thankfully, Rico is someone I relate to integrally. But it's hard when I have to make small-talk or revisit old friends...

My mom said yesterday that once you live in multiple places, you cease to truly fit in in any of them. This is so true. Once you leave your comfort zone, you are changed forever and never can quite recapture that blissful feeling of being accepted, of self-identifying wholly with a particular group or place. You don't even have to travel internationally for this to happen. I imagine that someone who lives across town in a community radically different from their own goes through similar changes. My mom mentioned some reality show about a group of Marines that are sent to live in the Castro for a period of time, how all of the particpants' lives are forever changed from the experience.

There is a Tribalistas song called "Ja Sei Namorar" that perfectly expresses what I feel, albeit in reference to a different concept. The chorus goes:

"Eu sou de ninguem, eu sou de todo mundo e todo mundo me quer bem,
Eu sou de ninguem, eu sou de todo mundo e todo mundo eh meu tambem."

(sorry for lack of accents) Translated, it is basically:

"I belong to nobody, I belong to everybody and everybody wishes me well,
I belong to nobody, I belong to everybody and everybody belongs to me, too."

Somehow, the larger my community becomes and the more extensive my experiences are in life, the lonelier I feel...