Where Are You From?

Maria
5 min readJan 30, 2019

For as long as I can remember, I have struggled to answer this question. And I struggle often, because it is a very popular question. One place where they love to ask it? The U.S. And so the topic has been on my mind.

So, where am I from?

If I want to make it easy for myself, I answer ‘Sweden’. This is in many ways an excellent answer. It’s what my passport says I am. I can smile politely when they attempt a random Swedish phrase or word. I can also marvel at how ‘Sweden’ more often than not automatically provokes a word association game. Ikea! Abba! Stockholm! Chocolate! Cheese! (But hang on, are you thinking of Switzerland now…?)

Usually Sweden triggers positive associations because it is a country with a good reputation. So, answering ‘Sweden’ is a good way to get people to like you and assume good things about you.

The issue is that the answer doesn’t feel true. Sure, I’m born there. Sure, my parents are both Swedish. Sure, I look Swedish. But, I know what a Swede is. And I’m not that.

We emigrated when I was six and since then I lived there only briefly at about age 11–12. I’ve never been to Swedish school. I don’t speak the slang and my Swedish, though native-sounding, is accented. When I speak Swedish, any Swede quickly realises that I am not a real Swede, like they are. I’m not in touch with relatives or friends there. And to be honest, I really don’t care about Swedish politics, royalty, sports, or celebrities. Why should I?

It feels strange to label myself as Swedish, when I am not accepted as such in Sweden and when my mind instinctively doesn’t agree with the statement. I have Swedish heritage and I like many aspects of Swedish culture, but that doesn’t mean that I feel I am from Sweden, or that I am Swedish.

The problem is that alternative answers don’t feel much better. I have fond feelings towards many countries that I have lived in— Australia, Switzerland, the U.S., Germany — but I don’t identify as being from these countries. I could answer that I come from the U.K., because it’s where I am resident, but that feels strange given that I have recently quite consciously decided to leave it and go on a long trip — because I don’t want to live there!

One answer that feels right is ‘Europe’. I do identify as European. The problem with that answer is that it leads to a follow-up question: “where in Europe?”, and hey presto, we’re back to the original problem.

But! On this trip I have found a solution to the struggle! And that solution is: Andrejs.

You see, when you are a couple, the question is asked of you as a couple. Here is what happens:

The question comes. I hesitate, and my mind starts the usual thought process concluding that it’s probably best to answer ‘Sweden’ even if I don’t really want to, because it’s the easiest and most acceptable answer, and when I am just about ready to push out a reluctant ‘Sweden,’ I hear Andrejs, confident and without hesitation, answering: “Latvia”.

It is at this point that I benefit from several other assumptions people make. People assume Andrejs is answering for both of us. People also assume that people date other people from their own country. And so, I become Latvian. And honestly, I am perfectly fine with this. I consider it a mild, white lie.

The Latvians in Miami, Florida

It reminds me of how, at college, people would go knocking on doors in student dormitories, urging people to register to vote. In my case, I couldn’t vote because I wasn’t American, which is what I would have to tell them so they would leave me alone. My friends joked that each time someone knocked on my door, I should say I was from a different country. The question was what countries would be believable — Polish? Romanian? Greek? Thai? Well, now I know I clearly pass as Latvian, anyway.

The funny thing is that my eyes have been opened to a completely different scenario. Sweden triggers Ikea, Abba, Bjorn Borg, maybe even the Nobel prize or Ingmar Bergman. Latvia triggers… nothing. At least most of the time. Most people have no idea where it is or even what it is. Is it a country? A city? The occasional person seems to vaguely know where it is. Maybe they know it’s in Europe.

One woman at a Dallas museum proudly announced that she knew where it is because someone else from Latvia had been there six months ago, so she had looked it up then. One waiter just instinctively blurted out: “where is that?!” and asked again 10 minutes later. One man seemed annoyed when Andrejs started explaining where it was. “I know where Latvia is!”, he insisted, but we’re still not sure he was telling the truth.

Most people, though, just respond with a blank face and/or polite “ok”. To me, watching people wrack their brains for any smidge of knowledge they might have as to what Latvia is, emphasises what the goal of the original question is. The goal is categorisation. This is why there is confusion and/or awkwardness when they have no idea what the answer means. When the answer has no associations whatsoever for the person asking, no categorisation can be made.

I find myself wondering whether anything is really achieved by asking the question at all. Our tour guide in St. Kitts asked me and responded with: “Ah! Ibrahimovic!” Is this informative for anyone? Yes, Ibrahimovic is a Swedish football player. Is this a meaningful conversation?

I’d like to say that I myself avoid the question. I’d like to say I have learned to suppress the desire to categorise in this way. But I ask it, too. We all seem guilty of this desire or need to know where people are from. I have not seen exceptions to this. I was briefly excited to find myself not asked in Latvia, but I later realised that all of Andrejs’ friends had heard through the grapevine that I was Swedish — so they just didn’t feel the need to ask me. The categorisation was already made.

Maybe we all just need to think about a country we know well and then consider how diverse people in that country can be. Then we can ask ourselves how meaningful it would be to know that someone is from that country. Then, maybe, we can at least consider a follow-up question so we don’t just stop at word associations.

Do you have any trouble answering the “where are you from?” question? Please share in the comments. How do you answer the question?

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