My Life On The I-List

Not that I ever felt like one. But should that had been the case... I would already be so over it by now!

I know it sounds intricately twisted, but let me explain. I am talking about feeling, or not, the immigrant bit on oneself.

I was born in Barcelona, the capital of Catalonia... Which some prefer to refer to as part of Spain... not me though!

Although technically I am half French half Catalan, when asked I proudly reply by saying I am a Catalan, even though my first language is French. But as I said... it is just a technicality.

When I left the nest seeking adventure, more than fortune or glory, I still was a teenager. Thus became an immigrant wherever I went... then again, another technicality! Cause no matter where I ended up, I never felt like a stranger. If you ask me, I adapted myself quite well to the different cultures I stumbled upon. Blending in was never a concern of mine, probably because I was so good at it... Therefore, I did it perfectly! And the truth is, nobody ever made me feel I didn't belong... that is, until now!

Not that anyone is doing it. But now that I have finally returned home right where I started, or close enough... I feel a foreigner in my own country. It's a weird feeling, and a very complicated one to explain!

I first wanted to have a place of my own right in Barcelona... only to be faced by the reality of kinda "over my head expensive" city. Then I tried to get a shared apartment... But once again, it turned out to be another impossibility. Ultimately, I ended up sharing an apartment way outside downtown Barcelona! In Sabadell, to be precise.

What at first seemed to be a less than perfect arrangement, ended up been a blessing. Cause I live smack-dab in the middle of Immigrantland!

Been surrounded by other expatriated beings regardless of reasons makes me feel, in the weirdest of senses, right at home! I have more in common with all these people from South America, China, Eastern Europe, and Africa than I have with my own.

Today, for example, I was late going out shopping for the weekend. So, a decision had to be made. It was either going to the market and try to find good bread elsewhere, or buy the bread right across the street and never make it to the market on time... Mostly because the baker talks even more than me! So in the end, I decided groceries were more important than my favorite bread, specially since I had nothing left in the fridge! I know there is a pastry shop a couple of blocks down the street that never closes for lunch, and sells bread also... Actually, cheaper than Francesc's!

By the time I made it there, there was no patrons waiting and was tended to right away. If looks weren't enough, the accent was a dead giveaway! My guess, either form Chile or Uruguay. It was the first!

I still have some trouble differentiating one coin from the other, and still have to look at them one by one to know which is which... It is apparently obvious that I'm not from around, or so it seems. The thing is, on the account of my struggle we struck a conversation. As I am asking them where to find a shoe repair and a laundry...One Catalan actually came in, and after giving me directions to where he thought there was a shoe repair, he said to me "And just to prove that Catalans aren't that bad, I wont charge you for the information" ??????????? As if!

Then it hits me! These guys from the pastry shop were been so goddamn nice to me! And Catalans usually aren't. But, in case I still had any doubts about it... the guy that meddled in our conversation made me rest my case!

When they asked me for how long had I been here, and where from... It surprised them even more when I said I was actually born in Barcelona! And then, I knew!...

If there is any chance to dust off this awkward feeling of been, for the first time in my life, on the I-List... it is people like these Chilean bakers, my Brazilian roommate, Betty and Mariana the Argentinians from the pub, the Chinese couple from the bazaar, or the Dominican girl at the market who are really gonna make it happen for me... in this forsaken place I live, called Immgrantland!