When you go for holidays abroad, it’s not uncommon to face questions from the locals like ‘Where are you from?’ The answer to that one might seem easy – you’re from Poland, from Ireland or wherever – but these days it’s not always so simple.
On a visit to Barcelona a year ago, the locals asked me where I’m from more than 20 times! And at first it was natural for me to answer that I’m from Poland. I am Polish, after all. Poland is where I was born and raised. Polish is my native language. Polish history and culture is most familiar to me. Poland’s where my family are.
But while this answer feels correct whenever I give it in Ireland, it didn’t sit right with me when I gave it to others in Spain. Indeed, I felt much discomfort, as if I were hiding some really important truth about myself.
This relatively simple question about where I’m from suddenly opened up a whole new world of meanings. What does it mean to you to say that I am Polish? What does mean to me that you are Irish, or Nigerian, or Chinese? What does it mean to us that someone born and raised in one place has lived in another land for many years?
Before Europe opened up, it was a far simpler question to answer – the stereotypes were more likely to be true. And we all do this – we have presumptions about people’s behaviour depending on what they do or where they come from. Even now we still organise our knowledge about people, places and events into separate categories that don’t cross over.
But I also believe that the places where we live leave a mark on us, and at some level make us who we are. Living in Ireland left its mark on me. It has changed me in such a way as to add a new quality understating to my ‘Polishness’. It’s broadened the repertoire of my and attitudes towards people, life and the world.
I am Polish. Polish from Ireland. That’s who I am for now.
– Emilia Marchelewska
