IMPORTED FROM DETROIT
Recently I traveled with my family
to Ethiopia for the Christmas and New Year’s holiday. It was such a beautiful
country with gorgeous people inside and out, breathtaking views and mind-blowing
history. There was something about Ethiopia as a country that just has a
lasting impression on me as a place that excites the spirit. There are always
those place that excite your sense of adventure, that excite your sense of
thrill, but Ethiopia was the type of place that just set my Spirit on Fire.
Anyway, I digress. What has really
been on my mind today was a t-shirt that my Pops was wearing in Ethiopia that
said “IMPORTED FROM DETROIT”. I had to steal it from him! It is really cool,
with the Spirit of Motown on the back. I ended up taking it from him and today
is the first day I wore it. A couple of students made comments about it, but
half way through the day I was walking across the freshly snipped green of our
soccer fields down to my stuffy office that I began to think of how the slogan,
“IMPORTED FROM DETROIT” really applied to me.
I always tell people I am a
third-culture kid. I don’t know where Im from, I don’t know where home is; I
don’t know where I want to be. I’m completely fine with that. I do like the
fact that I am imported from Detroit, and I feel like I have always took pride
in feeling “imported.”
Imported defined as, “bringing in
something from outside.” “Bringing in” is the part of that definition that I
like. So many people are comfortable with just being where they are the
majority, where they grew up, where they are part of something they know. I
feel like I have never had that really. I have always felt, “brought it” from
the outside; Even when I was living in the country of my parents, the USA. You
know what though? I love that.
I love the fact that wherever I am
in the world I am “brought in.” So many Americans, and all ex-pats for that
matter, are seen in the world not as Imports into their country of residents,
rather “exports” from their mother country. It has always bugged me when people
ask me where I am from, and I tell them the country I am in (whatever country
that is at the time) and they laugh at me. I am not an American export. Right
now I am a Tanzanian Import, I am a Tanzanian imported from Detroit, by way of
Seoul, by way of Goma, By way of Chicago. I have import tags all over me, and I
am proud of them.
I never want to be looked at as an
export from any country because I am not. I am where I am to experience that
place. Whether it is Ethiopia for 2 weeks, I am an Ethiopian Imported from
Arusha, or I am in Tanzania for 2 years, I am a Tanzanian Imported from
Chi-City! Once I live my life as an export from America I will miss out on the
best part of living abroad. The local foods, communicating past the language
barriers, living off of “needs” not “wants”, the absence of a comfort zone, and
the adventure of exploring are all parts of importing yourself into where you
are. When you live as an export you feel the need to make your life where you
are how it was back “home”. Be an import and make your life where you are home.
The Fam in Ethidopia at the Church of St. George in Lalibela. Pops sporting the IMPORTED FROM DETROIT shirt
When we become they, then they become they
