Simple Questions Impossible to Answer

Sometimes the simplest queries are the most difficult to answer. Occasionally I am challenged with questions that, although hide no obscure intentions, leave me answer-less (and that 'am I weird?' feeling).

"Where are you from?"

Both my birth certificate and passport say Spain, but my heart is made of pieces from every different place I've lived in. Pieces small enough that impede me from identifying myself with another nationality, but so big that prevent me from feeling Spanish.

"What do you do at [insert company]?"

When your daily tasks, responsibilities, organisation and focus changes on a daily basis, it is impossible to generalise what you do for a living.

"Why did you leave [insert last city I've lived in]?"

Excellent question that I frequently ask myself as well. And a very personal one. I'm still trying to come up with the perfect answer that will satisfy those looking for an interesting story. In the meantime, I smile and say it was down to 'several things, none in particular'.

"Can you recommend a book?"

I would very much love to, but I need you to guide me here a bit. Reading a book is like listening to a song, the one you choose has to match not only your personal preferences, but also your mood. It will depend on what you are looking to feel when you put the book down.

"Don't you ever feel lonely living on your own?"

The loneliest I remember feeling was during a time I had someone by my side. After then, I stopped believing that the amount of people around you is not a direct indicator of how accompanied someone is.

"How many languages do you speak"

What do you mean by 'speak'? Mam's desperate face when I fail to find the word I'm looking for proves that I sometimes fail to speak my own native one! 

"Are you staying here for good?"

None of us are :P

The Internet

I still remember the days when meetings with friends were arranged over a series of telephone calls; all of which happened in the space of minutes and lasted for as long as you could clutch to the plastic apparatus without being disturbed by my older brother (waiting for the call of his latest female conquest) my prudent father (claiming that the bills will ruin this family!). Time and place was decided and then it was left up to each one of us to be there on time or else miss whatever we were up to. There were no mobile phones to alert of unexpected delays in the public transport or other unforeseen events. The city was filled with lost souls looking for the place they were supposed to be at; asking others where this or that street was. There was no GPS, no Google Maps to consult, no Whatsapps, SMS...

The times when people actually talked to each other... I felt as if I knew everything about my friends after long conversations shortened only by the strict curfew I had to adhere to. Then the internet happened (yes youngsters, believe it or not, there was a world before the internet!); and with it, the new ability of knowing everything about everyone without the need of any social interaction. We became victims of the over-sharing epidemic.

“Whatever we possess becomes of double value when we have the opportunity of sharing it with others.”

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love the web. I'm an auto-declared geek (my Mam's still amazed of what I have become interested in). Every part of my life is technologically fueled. I can't go offline for a day without getting stressed and suffering withdrawal symptoms. I plead guilty of visiting social network sites (why do we insist in calling it "social network sites" when we all know which site we are referring to?) with the sole and only purpose of spending a few minutes (ahem) peeking into the lives of others. Just before writing this, I confess to have easily spent a whole hour procrastinating in front of my laptop doing nothing but changing from one insignificant tab to another. Just like that: tab, tab, tab.