there's no place like home

"The Reluctant Fundamentalist" was a great story to end on. Not only was it a quick read, but also it was really interesting. Changez, who comes all the way from Pakistan to attend one of the most prestigious American Universities and takes a job with one of the top consulting firms in New York City, struggles with imposed identity. Since he stepped foot in America he felt like he had to compromise his own personal identity just to fit in. He was bombarded with pressures from all aspects of his life. Erica was his symbol of America, as she pranced around in her Mickey Mouse t-shirt, she represented what he couldn’t ever have, or be.

We see a distinctive transformation occur gradually. The first physical sign is the long beard. The mental transformation began before he left for Buenos Aires. It seemed like he had already made up his mind that he was done with it all and it was finally time to return home where he could be at ease and be himself. Then, he met Juan-Bautista (who was one of my favorite characters in the book). For me, Juan Bautista was like the voice of reason, you know, that little guy that stands on your shoulder and tells you the right thing to do (and Erica was like the little devilish figure, drawing him back to old habits and trying to make him keep trying to be American).

I think this story has a lot to say about identity and how we perceive ourselves. What Changez went through was a lot like mine and Chaz’ abroad experiences. We both struggled to fit in. We tried to alter our clothing to seem more authentic and we adjusted our accents to sound more local, but when it came down to it, we were both just American students, studying abroad. For Changez, no matter how hard he tried, he was bound to return home to the places he belonged.

So what does this say for Charlie and me? Was there any value in our European travels? Were our efforts of cultural acceptance futile? I think not! I think our experiences taught us a lot about ourselves and gave us the opportunity to see what it was like to be one of them (or at least try). I can only speak for myself, but I think my experience abroad made me proud of my identity. As much as I wanted to fit in, I did not hope to compromise my own identity to do so. And yes, I sighed a big breath of relief when stepped foot back in American and again felt like I was an “us” again. There is definitely something to be said for the comforting feeling of being home.

I guess Dorthy did know what she was talking about....