A Tourist In My Own Home

An excerpt from The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

We had crossed the border and the signs of poverty were everywhere. On either side of the road, I saw chains of little villages sprouting here and there, like discarded toys among the rocks, broken mud houses and huts consisting of little more than four wooden poles and a tattered cloth as a roof. I saw children dressed in rags chasing a soccer ball outside the huts...a woman in a brown burqa carried a large clay pot on her shoulder, down a rutted path toward a string of mud houses.
"Strange," I said.
"What?"
"I feel like a tourist in my own country," I said, taking in a goatherd leading a half-dozen emaciated goats along the side of the road.
Farid snickered. Tossed his cigarette. "You still think of this place as your country?"
"I think a part of me always will," I said, more defensively than I had intended.
"After twenty years of living in America," he said, swerving the truck to avoid a pothole the size of a beach ball.
I nodded. "I grew up in Afghanistan."
...
He pointed to an old man dressed in ragged clothes trudging down a dirt path, a large burlap pack filled with scrub grass tied to his back. "That's the real Afghanistan, Agha sahib. That's the Afghanistan I know. You? You've always been a tourist here, you just didn't know it."
                                                                                                                                                                     

I have been reading The Kite Runner for a while now, and I keep spotting cultural things that stand out to me. But nothing has ever stood out to me as intensely as this passage here. The main character, Amir (sometimes called Agha Sahib), returns to Afghanistan, the country he was born and raised in, after having been exiled to America when he was a teenager. In this excerpt he is experiencing reverse culture shock - the same situation I am in now that I am back in America, although it is confusing to me because I spent the first 9 years of my life in America, and the next 9 in Indonesia. I don't know which one is more reverse culture shock at this point. I still can't figure out which country I feel more like a tourist in. And that's what got me. I found myself getting defensive along with Amir. I felt like Farid was telling me that I am a tourist in Indonesia. I felt like Farid was personally trying to convince me that I didn't belong in Indonesia, that it was never my home.

Amir is seeing all of these things about his country - the people, the huts, the roads, the potholes, the goats, etc. Maybe he does not recognize that from when he was there, but I recognize those parts of Indonesia. I don't know if Amir feels the same way I do: that I know it is my home, and I don't want Farid to try to convince me that I never belonged there. Maybe Amir and I are tourists in Afghanistan and Indonesia, but does that mean that we aren't allowed to have felt like it was home while we lived there? Does that null our memories that we made in our countries? It does not. And I guess Farid just doesn't see that. Farid sees Afghanistan the way it has changed since Amir left. Amir is not home in this "new" Afghanistan, but he is still home with his memories there. If I were to go back to Indonesia in the near future, I would likely have a similar experience: it would not be as I left it, as I remembered it, but it would still hold all those memories I made and the life experiences I had there. It doesn't make it less where I once belonged.

I wonder if Amir gets that. I felt as though I got just as defensive (if not more) as Amir did when Farid kept snickering at him. Farid doesn't understand what Amir is going through. And that makes me thankful for the people who can understand what all the other TCKs and I are going through in transition, culture shock, and reverse culture shock. And I am thankful for books that grab at my heart and make me defend "my country", even if I am a tourist in my own home.