“I’ve Gone Identity Mad!” | March 17th 2008
You know what’s been pissing me off more than anything recently? The fact that I can’t bloody relate to an identity. The epitome of frustration is embodied in this single almost self-destructive notion of “Where am I from?”, “Where do I belong?”, yadda, yadda, yadda…
Born in Kuwait to Egyptian parents from Lebanese and Turkish descent.
Let’s break this down.
I’m Egyptian, Lebanese and Turkish by blood.
I was born and raised in Kuwait.
I’m Egyptian on paper.
You’re probably thinking, “Right, okay Sou, what the hell’s wrong with you? You should be proud you’ve got a diverse background.� Yes, of course I am, but it’s frustrating because I can’t say, “I’m Egyptian� or “I’m Lebanese�, etc. and truly mean it; I don’t feel rooted. Kuwait’s a melting pot, people who live here are from all over the world and we all pick up a bit from one another’s cultures. When did I ever have the chance to pick up my own culture? Whichever culture that might be…
I remember there came a point in which I tried to prove my “Egyptianosity� by speaking Egyptian most of the time (even though every other word was pronounced incorrectly), I listened to Egyptian music and watched Egyptian movies – even the really meaningless ones that resulted in me losing all hope in the Egyptian cinema industry. It was all in vain though, no matter how hard I tried to fit in the “Egyptian scene�, I felt more out of place than ever.
Last week I met up with friends from my childhood whom I haven’t seen in almost a year, they brought along friends they made at university in Lebanon, and amongst them all, I was the only “Egyptian�. When they found out I was Egyptian, all I received were shocked exclamations: “No way! You’re Egyptian?! That’s impossible, you don’t sound or look Egyptian!� (If I had a Dinar for every time I’ve heard that…)
I even spoke to my mother about this gnawing frustration and the conversation went something like this:
“Mama, I don’t feel Egyptian, and I find it really hard to identify with Egyptians. You know when Egypt won the African Cup of Nations? I couldn’t care less, seriously. Every single Egyptian was out celebrating, and what was I doing? I was reading a book for class because I couldn’t be bothered to watch the game. Plus, it was just a football game, a game, they didn’t find the cure to cancer or put an end to world hunger.”
“But we were all unified, and it was great winning, it wasn’t just an Egyptian “win�, but it was an Arab one as well.�
“It’s called the African Cup of Nations for a reason you know…�
“But Egypt’s an Arab country.�
“Ma, not my point right now…What I’m trying to say, is that I just don’t feel like I belong anywhere. I was born in a country where I’ve got you, dad, A, Y and extended family who we don’t see except on occasions, and need I remind you they aren’t even Egyptian?!”
“Would you feel upset if anyone says something inappropriate about Egypt, Lebanon or Kuwait?”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“Well, there you go…that’s a way for you to start your quest of an identity.”
There’s more to it than a simple, “Do you feel upset when someone says something inappropriate….” I feel out of place; I need to find other people who suffer from an identity dysfunction as myself, someone I can talk to who’ll understand how I feel, maybe then I’ll feel partially normal.
Help.
‘It’s Okay’ by Sandrine.
Till next time world.