There’s no greater humbling experience than to feel like a foreigner wherever you go.

Most of us who leave our homes to live elsewhere do so because something is pushing us out of our old or calling us into our next destination. From economic migration to political asylum, to just seeking something new.

I had dreamt of honeymooning in Prague before I fully understood what Prague had to offer. I had just heard of this European country and pinned it on a board titled ‘Places I Want To Travel’. When the opportunity came for me to teach English in the Czech Republic, I thought to myself, “I guess I always wanted to see what it’s about.”

You see, home had been pushing me out. The economic and political instability in itself is enough to drive any sane young person to seek stability and a new life. For me, it went a little deeper. I had always felt like an outsider. All my life. In different family settings, communities and circles. It didn’t matter.

I always believed there was more on offer than my immediate environment made known. I wanted to explore the big-bad world. I had also come to learn that location or bloodline had nothing to do with closeness. The closest relationships I had developed over time were linked to commonalities in mindsets, outlooks on life and desires. These transitioned beyond borders, race and nationality.

When I first got to the Czech Republic, I was based in České Budějovice. The capital of the South Bohemian region. The stares I would attract when walking down the street made my feeling of being foreign more apparent. I was no longer foreign by virtue of my sense of self. This was “you look different, you are different, you belong somewhere different.” 

My over-active mind began conjuring up scenarios of being dragged into dark alleys, getting beat to a pulp and left for dead. My family would never know what became of me. Over time, I realised the stares – though glaring – were not necessarily ill-intended. Of course there may be those who wished they could inflict harm on me, but as I learnt about Czech history and culture, I realised I was foreign in a land where anything distinctly differently was met with caution. 

I realised – through the friendships I was fortunate to develop and students I had the honour of teaching – what being welcomed by strangers really felt like. They supported me in ways not many would. From helping me move, going to government departments for visa errands, setting up Wifi and electricity in my apartment, to inviting me over for Christmas lunch. I felt so embraced. 

Eventually, Prague called me and became my ‘home’. A tougher crowd to say the least. The setting is more international, but I live away from the central hub of Prague thanks to housing prices. In addition, one has to make concerted efforts to go out and be a part of a group or community. It requires more money, more intent and more scheduling. 

Even in the heart of this incredible city with its exquisite historical and cultural richness as well as awe-inducing beauty, one can feel foreign. Especially when on the job hunt. Especially as a person of colour from a nation that is not deemed as ‘native English speaking’.

From locals, the same caution is applied in general interactions, unless intentionally diffused by a friendly ‘dobrý den’ – and even then, the ice can remain unbroken. From authorities, you are made to know you ought to be grateful for a chance to live here. From employers, you ought to be glad you have a paying job – nevermind the pay level and other advantages taken on their part. From some expats, a sense of superiority and obnoxiousness because of the passport they hold in comparison to you. From health professionals, gross oversight and lack of empathy due to their fascination with your race and nationality first, not your humanity.  

This inevitably results in the reinforcement of that foreign feeling. Foreign here. Foreign there. Foreign everywhere. 

The only way is assimilation without losing yourself. And continued realisation that belonging is a construct. 

I seek belonging in the interactions I choose to be a part of. Whether it is a sketching class or meetup. I choose the friends I gravitate towards locally and lean on my distant friendships that are fueled by internet connectivity. I find belonging within myself. The sense of my being here because I am meant to be here. Meditation and journaling coupled with therapy bring a necessary grounding.

Gone are the days where one person, place or thing could make us feel like we belong. Now is the time of curating our own community. In whatever capacity that looks like.

Home is me. Wherever I am. Home is here. Home is there. Home is everywhere… that I am.

Home is here. Home is there. Home is everywhere… that I am.