Reflecting on my history, it’s not so long ago that I wrote in my notebook that ‘I’ve been growing like a transplanted plant’. I want to come back to this idea now.
My seed was sown, and germinated in one land. Then, uprooted
twice. And then, taken back to the original soil. But it was not the same as
before, it couldn’t be...
So one day, feeling trapped and isolated, a stranger
in my homeland, I decided to go on my own, to walk away. And I put myself into
another totally different place. I might be more poetical, continue with the
metaphor and say that I needed different water, different air, different
nutrients… But this is not going to work here. So I should better say that what
I just needed was to take the sensation of feeling the owner of my own freedom.
I’ve written ‘totally different’. Let me think about
this as well… The language definitely is. And language makes a big difference,
so they also say. Different nouns, adjectives, verbs… Different ways of saying some
of the same things, aren’t they? Or are there always new things, different
words in different places but deep inside with the same meanings?
I’ve grown in different latitudes. This is a fact. Different
weathers. Different cultures. Different people. Different history and stories. Some
different ways of understanding life.
I grew in the arms of different motherlands. Like a transplanted plant.
Different composts, different waters, different airs...
But the roots are still there. The same roots of a
growing plant in different lands.
A transplanted human being.
A man in search.
A stranger, anyway.