Before I went to Somalia, I always defined myself as being “Somali”. Whenever someone asked me where I was from (and in America you get a lot of those questions), I always responded with “I’m Somali”. I was very proud to be Somali and that for sure gave me something to hold onto as an identity in the United States. When I was going to Somalia, I was so excited to be going there, and to be embraced by my “people”. To be in the land of my ancestors, in my “homeland”. Of course I was a little scared since it’s not a stable country with no real government or laws. I wanted to tell people that I was a Somali woman from America, and wanted to share what it’s like to be Somali in America. I felt very Somali before leaving America.
I was in for a major shock after staying there for a couple of months. I didn’t understand the people there, it’s like everything I grew up considering “normal” in America, was strange to my fellow Somali “brethren” in Somalia. There were times I felt I related more to a white American than the Somalis there. Also being a woman in Somalia was very difficult, as women don’t have much say in society, and the interesting aspect about that was women felt that it was completely normal to be that way. I always complained about such things to other women , and they looked at me like I was crazy. It’s like we didn’t see the same things. Of course, being in America I was used to certain luxuries, I don’t know like being able to drink water from the sink if I didn’t have any bottled water at home. Or having toilet paper accessible. Another thing that surprised me while we’re on the issue of toilet paper, is that most bathrooms in Somalia are holes in the ground. So you have to squat to do your business, but there are modern regular toilets available. However, it seems that some people don’t know how to use it properly. Like they actually would put their feet on the part when your bum is supposed to go. Most of the toilet seats end up getting broken within a week of being assembled. A guy actually broke his hip from using the toilet that way. You can say when I went to Somalia, I turned very North American.
I guess from this experience I’ve come to realize that even though I’m racially Somali, I’m not culturally a real Somali. You can be a certain race, but not identify with it culturally. For me, it’s about me growing up the majority of my childhood in America. For now, I’m very happy to be back in America. I’m not saying America is heaven, because of course every place in the world has it’s good and bad, but it’s great to be in a place where you’re used to how things work, and how the people are.
Drinking Tea in Mogadhishu 