Will I ever belong?

When I think of Libya.. I get an image of a hot hazy place and the image of sand.. the image is blurred and my feelings are uneasy and anxious..

How do you belong to a place that you do not know? And mind you, it is worse when you go there so often than when you've never been.. I've come across many Libyans who were born and raised in Canada who have never been to Libya, they are excited, curious and you can feel the hope in them.. That is good because you can make of it what you wish. For me, I grew up going there once a year so my visits to Libya are tied in with family fueds and mistrust, getting sick from EID meat and being bored out of my mind at home within the confines of our gated villa with no one to play with - I would spend hours staring out the window at the little boys playing soccer on the street on Fridays. How do you belong to people that you do not understand or connect with? You see your family members and as much as you look alike and share your heritage, you still feel so out of place.. and different...

Born and raised in Europe, educated in culturally diverse Geneva with parents that are highly conservative and very proud of their berber (not only Libyan) heritage, I would spend the entire year in Geneva and then spend the summer in Libya. I was two different Nuras. In Geneva, I was "that Muslim girl Nura", constantly explaining to my classmates why I fasted in Ramadan, why my mother wore the veil, why my parents took my out of the compulsary one week field trip, why I didn't go to their parties and why I didn't "date" that boy who liked me while making sure that my tone was confident so did not betray the difficulty I was having. Most were understanding, although you learned to deal with the few "that's stupid" comments.. Then in Libya, I was "that European girl" who was born in Europe, spoke all these different languages but what a shame that I was much more olive-skinned (samra) than my sisters (what a shame, how odd that a girl born and raised in Europe was so dark) and really too chubby for someone living abroad. I would serve drinks, sweets and tea green for daddy and mommy's guests, smile very warmly at everyone because we wanted people to "get to know me". They always found a mistake in my Arabic to make fun of or if my Arabic was immaculate, then it was something about the way I looked.

Meeting Libyans abroad, I felt the same thing. Yet the disappointment was surprising the the hope of making Libyan friends quickly began to diminish. Everytime my father met someone new I would ask the famous question "Does he have any daughters my age???". It was a quiet desperation of connecting with someone.. meeting someone who understands. The girls I did meet were either way too liberal - doing all the things I would explain to my classmates and friends that I couldn't - or just too.. Libyan (adhering to all the social practices that I just don't understand or like). Even up until this day, at aged 23.. I have only come across a handful of Libyans in my life that I feel like I would want to deepen my interaction with.

I never really fit in anywhere.. just had to adapt to wherever I was and find my own sense of identity. I read it somewhere that being unique is a lonely prospect, and I can't agree more.

Still, one day.. I'd like to belong.. I want to feel such excitement when I say "I'm going home" and mean Libya and not Switzerland. I want to be able to make some sort of a difference to that place.. to put my education to good use so that my little baby cousins and all the children are hopeful about their future.. instead of repeating their parents' dialogue and growing up with so much cynicism.. and mostly so that my children are truly proud of their heritage, instead of making excuses for it. I want to feel like I have a home.