An Individual without the Culture

      Well, as you might have already deduced, this week's blog will be about me(duh) and my thoughts regarding my culture or lack thereof. This is going to be a delayed reflection on one of our class conversations.

      I would not say that the discussion we had on the topic of our cultural background was an eye-opening experience, but I have to admit that it was interesting to hear what other people had to say. It was also quite inspiring to hear everyone sharing a piece of their personal history with the class. I can not really recall what I said during that discussion but I sure do remember the weird feeling that I cannot really depict in this blog. I could feel some sort of void in my consciousness or my soul, whichever you prefer, and it made think through my life and see what caused that "void" to appear.

     I have to say right away that I do not really remember most of the details from my recent past. However, I do remember that I asked myself a similar question back in my 9th grade. I was wondering where did my ancestors come from, what is my cultural background? I started asking everyone in my family to share whatever they know about our past. It took me almost two years to gathers some scraps of information in the form of photographs and old stories, and nothing else. One might consider that as a plethora of information and continue speculating from there, but I still wanted to obtain more physical evidence to make sure that I am not making anything up. I wanted to have a solid knowledge of my cultural background backed by the physical proof. Well, I did not manage to achieve that goal.

    With time, my perspective regarding my life and my cultural background started to turn into a different shape. I became a bit more indifferent toward all those memories I managed to collect. I realized that I will not be able to accomplish my task anytime soon and decide to move on, or maybe I just gave up on my culture on that day. I started to absorb different views, positions, habits, patterns of speech, tastes... Unfortunately, my aspirations and perspectives turned me into an outcast. I have to say that it was not a big of an issue for me because I have learned that I need to advance.

     Adaptation became my number one priority and not having a particular cultural background made it a bit easier. The ability to adapt became a crucial skill later on when I moved to the US. No one cared who am the only way I could integrate myself into my new life was to assimilate with the local "culture" as soon as possible. I managed to do that in a fairly short amount of time. Nevertheless, everything has its price and one always has to sacrifice something in order to get something new.

   Even when I am typing these lines I can feel that weird emptiness, which will probably accompany me until the rest of my life. Oh well, there is no turning back now, and who knows maybe I will be able to discover something that would feel that void.