Whenever someone asks me where I am from I often find myself slowing down and replying, “Originally?” I do it because I feel as though I am from many different places. This is the psychology of my everyday world. I am an Ethiopian born, Sudanese National and American. I am stuck living as three different nationalities. What is it about nationality? What makes one grounded to where one is born? Even before moving to America I was confused as to where I really belonged. I lived in Ethiopia most of my childhood and yet I was told stories about Sudan and how we would one day return when it had peace. As I reflect on my unique upbringing it was apparent that each country was a permanent tattoo that when asked about it, I could not refrain from explaining the other two.

“…I was confused as to where I really belonged. As I reflect on my unique upbringing it was apparent that each country was a permanent tattoo that when asked about it, I could not refrain from explaining the other two...”

I was born in the town of “Itang” in Eastern Ethiopia, right next to the border of Sudan. My parents were aid workers at the United Nations. In 1991 the Ethiopian civil war broke out and we fled back to Sudan on foot. In Sudan my younger brother was born in Nasir, a town my parents grew up in. A brief history for you- with my father born and raised in Nasir and my mother from the Anyuak Tribe of Eastern Ethiopia who often migrated into Sudan; these tribes were nomadic they often intermarried, hence the coming together of mom and dad and then came my siblings and I. I loved living in Nasir; there never a day that lacked fun and of course I always enjoyed the candies given away at the hospital my father worked in as a medic. We played water games down by the river bank as our mothers fetched water for cooking and drinking. For a while things were peaceful, but that moment of tranquility was short lived as war befell Sudan again; and so in 1993 we were forced into Ethiopia once more. I lost my father to the war along the way leaving behind my older sister, younger brother, my mother and myself to protect each other. My sister went ahead of us with other women in hopes of securing shelter. Arriving again in Ethiopia, I began to better understand the world I escaped. We settled in a refugee camp and things got harder and harder to comprehend. My prayers were answered when my mother announced we would be moving to a city called Addis Ababa. At that time the only way to get to Addis Ababa was to hitch a ride on a bus from Gambella and embark on a two day journey to get to the city; however to get there, our family had to walk several hours from Itang to get to Gambella. I have never been on such a huge bus before and it looked magnificent as the wheels shined and the paint glistened.

As we got closer to boarding soldiers checked passengers for weapons and even got into arguments with some of them as my family sat down and waited for everyone else to board. I sat between my mother and aunt while my little brother, Nasir, sat on my mother's lap. As the bus moved along the countryside he turned to her and said, “This bus is going to blow up.” I looked searchingly at my mother and aunt as to why he would say something like that. My mother believed that Nasir often predicted tragedies as he did when we were in the refugee camp. But I was also taught to believe in the superstitions of men, even though we were often told stories of mysticism since our parents were animist before Christianity came to Sudan. I prayed to God this little boy was wrong and that we were going to get to Addis safe and sound.

“….Arriving again in Ethiopia, I began to better understand the world I escaped…”

“Boom!” was the noise we heard midway through the trip. We thought Nasir had indeed predicted our deaths and this was it. As everyone screamed and yelled as the bus came to a halt, we all got out of the bus only to discover the loud noise was from a blown out tire- talk about letting out a prolonged sigh of relief. Fast forward to Addis Ababa; Life in Addis was beautiful. We lived in a rented two bedroom apartment of a house. Addis was where I fell in love with school. In Sudan it was quite difficult to learn because there was no place to sit nor did we have anything to write with. We often had to share one pencil and wrote on the ground when there was no paper available. When I came home from school I always visited our neighbor Gennet - a woman who lived by herself indulging me with all kinds of candies as she took care of me and my siblings.

We often left the city to visit family in Gambella. The trip was not something to look forward to because of the rough terrain, although the mountains were beautiful to look at. My favorite was the little town we stopped in to sleep. The journey took about two days so the bus would stop in a town and we would find a hotel to sleep in for the night. I loved these towns because they had the best food I had ever tasted. Even today the smell of “Injera” brings back memories – memories that never fail to put a smile on my face. I cannot deny living between these two worlds Sudan and Ethiopia, have shaped my worldview. My experiences there have given me a better appreciation for the world around me as a whole; and I look forward to more where ever I have yet to go.