632 words, 3 minute read time
“Where are you from?” I’m lucky this particular question was never part of a multiple-choice quiz or else, I definitely would have gotten it wrong. Finding a proper answer is dreadful. The truth is: I change identities more times than a chameleon stuck in a bag of Skittles.
Unfortunately, I’m a walking, talking question mark. Always have been, always will be. I understand: it’s not every day that you meet a full-blooded Filipina – yes, both my parents are foreigners – who can pass for a local Lebanese woman when she speaks. To quell anyone’s curiosity, here are some questions I’ve been subject to since who knows how long, compiled for your convenience and mine too.
“Wait, you can speak Arabic?”
Well, yes; and French too. I won’t bring up English for obvious reasons, but don’t you worry; I didn’t let my parents’ mother tongue affect my pronunciation. I’m accent-free! I wouldn’t have made it through ETIB’s program otherwise. Impressive, right? Or rather, “intriguing” would have been a better choice of words. I’m well aware of the stereotype and I’ll let you in on a pet peeve of mine: I hate the fact that people find it “weird” or surprising that the languages I speak don’t match my… “exotic” appearance. I hope that little secret stays between you and me (and anyone reading this).
“So, where are you from?”
If I had a dollar every time I was asked that, I’d be rich. Unfortunately knowing how the banking system works in Lebanon, I will have that money taken away in the blink of an eye. It’s funny how intentions behind that question change depending on who you’re asking. For any random person, it’s just a way to get to know someone or categorize them in a predetermined box. For me, it’s different. I get asked because I don’t fit in any box. The truth of the matter is that, in the same vein as any Third Culture Kid out there, part of me is from Beirut, another comes from Manila, and another is the best (or worse) mix of both worlds.
“Do you actually like it here or…?”
Believe it or not, I do. It’s not so bad. Kind of. The whispers, the laughs, the “curious” side looks… I’d be lying to you and myself if I said those have never affected me. In the end, you’ve got to learn to be indifferent to it all and keep your cool. It’s not all doom and gloom, though. Life in Beirut is never boring. Add some entertainment, great food and even better company, and honestly, what more can I ask for (besides a well-paying job, of course)? You could argue the same for Manila, but I honestly got used to Beirut. In my case, familiarity didn’t breed contempt, but comfort instead.
“No, but seriously, why don’t you go back to your country?”
It’s ironic, isn’t it. Half the Lebanese population is planning its grand escape, yet here I am – a foreigner staying willingly. Who knows for certain if this won’t change in a couple of months or years? Maybe it’s all a matter of time. Maybe I will end up trading Beirut’s familiar chaos for a whole new brand of insanity. Either way, whether I leave or stay, one thing’s clear: there are always silver linings. For one, I’ll never struggle with small talk at gatherings, though at this point, I might be tempted to show people this blogpost and save myself the awkward conversation.
But enough about myself. I’ll spare you any more details and put you front and center instead: how would you survive those types of questions without making a beeline for the exit door? And if you were in my shoes, what would have been your answers?
Aside from your trademark writing style that I absolutely love, I admire the way you convey your struggles in such an easygoing tone and mellifluous words. As a dual national myself, I will not pretend to having gone through all of what you mentioned, but I must say that some of them really hit home, especially that when I’m in my second country I feel like I might not really belong there, and as such, not being « local » enough. It is truly relieving to be able to share these endeavours together and have a good laugh as we do it!
You carry humor so effortlessly and smoothly! I loved this witty post 🙂
Wow, this really hit home! The way you explore identity and belonging with so much honesty, humor, and heart is moving. It’s so relatable and thought-provoking. Loved how you turned personal stories into something that speaks to so many of us. I hope to read more of you so keep it up!
Your humour made this unfortunate situation somehow really entertaining! Keep it up and don’t let what other think of you bring you down!! 😀
As you said, being a « Part time Lebanese » isn’t the easier task! I can feel you.
I loved your approach, thank you for sharing your story.
This is such a brilliant and refreshing mix of humor, harsh reality, and a well-placed lesson. Not once did you try to prove why you consider yourself Lebanese, yet you made it so obvious through your natural sense of irony and sharp commentary on the dire situation. I absolutely loved the « chameleon in a bag of Skittles » metaphor, and I couldn’t agree more about every place having its own « brand of insanity ».
I find comfort in familiarity too. While no one can truly understand your experience like you do, I think my answer to those questions would be both Lebanon and the Philippines. You don’t have to choose. You carry the blood of one in your veins and the soul of the other in your heart. And that’s something to be proud of because it’s part of what makes you the incredible person you are. This is your unique brand of mixed insanities! Haha!
People will always have something to talk about no matter what we do. I believe you get asked a whole lot of questions because people are fascinated by you ( remember when we first met?) I’m sorry you had to deal with rude comments. Some Lebanese are genuinely eager to know everything about others and mean no harm. I’m lucky we’re friends Micheline! Having known you for a while now, I can proudly say you are more Lebanese than most of us…
I agree with Nour. It’s sad that some people still judge based on looks alone.
I love how you approach this matter with humor. Sometimes it’s the best way to get your point across!
What a refreshingly witty post this is! It’s a beautiful reflection on identity, belonging, and the complex, sometimes absurd, layers that come with being a Third Culture Kid. Your honesty is disarming, and your sense of humor turns what could have been a heavy, introspective monologue into an engaging, laugh-out-loud exploration of self. The Skittles-chameleon metaphor alone deserves its own fan club! Dearest Marie-Micheline, you’re an absolute gem, and reading this reminded me just how much I appreciate the humor you carry so effortlessly!
I really don’t know how I’d deal with everyone asking me the same questions all the time. Thanks for writing such an amazing article!
As a person who has quite a few “foreign” friends I can definitely say that not everyone is as accepting to this question as you, it’s nice to have a humorous approach to the subject. Not sure how I would handle a situation like this.
People can be very invasive with their questions, but you handle it with such grace. The vulnerability and wittiness of this post are truly remarkable. Keep it up!
I feel too confident to be bothered by these type of questions. I just find them fun now.
Over-confidence?
I don’t understand why people ask such uncomfortable questions. Even bringing such matter could make you feel unwanted.
As always, amazing writing style, I absolutely love your sense of dark humor and sarcasm. If you were to write a book (and I strongly encourage that) I would be the first to buy it.
Now speaking from personal experience, even though I am unfortunately 100% Lebanese, I have always felt like a foreigner. People are unkind in general and they can never miss an opportunity to treat you like a weirdo, and they can never get enough of others miseries.
I can’t say I fully understand your struggle but I can definitely feel your pain.
You are a beautiful bright kindhearted person and I hope I get to see you shine the brightest in your field.
I love how vulnerable you are in this post. Thank you for sharing your struggles with humor, and to be honest, I don’t think I would handle the situation as gracefully as you if I were in your shoes. Stay strong!
I’m sorry you had to go through this. Your take on handling awkward questions is both insightful and entertaining. The way you challenge assumptions with humor makes the topic engaging. It’s a great reminder that identity isn’t always a simple answer. Keep it up!
Unfortunately, people will always have something to talk about, but I loved how you found a way to be positive about it. Thank you for sharing your experience and don’t worry too much about what others say. What matters is that you know who you are!
Asking these kind of questions to someone is very awkward. I am sorry that you had to go through this. Stay strong!!
Really enjoyed reading this!
I’m sure it wasn’t easy for you to share this with the world. I hope that same world will be kinder to you because you deserve to be treated better. However, I’m glad you’re able to talk about this with humor. Thank you for having the courage to say what others spend their whole lives trying to mutter.
As a lebanese living abroad, I can relate to a lot of the things you mentioned. It was a very nice realistic way to put it. Great post!
I don’t know why people ask such awkward questions that aren’t fair. I’m glad you wrote about this and expressed yourself very well. Keep it up and stay strong !!
Coming from a small town in Lebanon where even having people from a different religion in your class is subject to shock for some people, I honestly admire you for how calmly you handle the looks or the questions or people judging before they even get to talk to you. Moving to France made me admire you even more because even though my whole identity revolves around being different, you have to be on another level of patient in order to deal with a certain type of ignorance and just… people in general. This was so relatable I love it and I hope you keep growing your sense of “home” wherever you go.