Standing in the checkout line at the supermarket
Listening to the people around me
Thirteen years ago it would all seem so different
So foreign
So alien
Not anymore
I speak the language
I understand everything
I come out and hear a different language on the street
The one I first learned to speak
They’re foreigners like me, I think
Although I don’t know if I’m really a foreigner here after all these years
But I’m not local either
It’s complicated
When I get home I’ll switch to the third language
My brain translates automatically
Sometimes I can’t even recall which language was used
As long as I understood the meaning and replied
I could go to my home city
The city crowned by mountains
The city that hosts the graves of my loved ones
The city where I took my first breath and my first step
And so many other firsts
They speak two languages there
I could learn the other one
But I’ll still be a stranger
I still won’t belong
I don’t belong anywhere
But then again, belonging is so overrated
I wish there were no borders
I wish we could travel the world freely
Explore it before deciding to grow roots
And with all my love to different languages
I wish we all spoke one
Language of love and kindness and compassion
