I looked out the window of the airplane. After 10 years in India, I was returning home at the age of 15. Two of the last 10 years, my sister and I stayed at a boarding school while the rest of the family returned to Ethiopia, our country of origin.
Barely in high school then, the two years in an Indian boarding school gave us a different perspective.
We were constantly aware that we were different.
Our names were different.
Our hair was different.
Our food was different.
Our culture was different.
Barely in high school then, the two years in an Indian boarding school gave us a different perspective.
We were constantly aware that we were different.
Our names were different.
Our hair was different.
Our food was different.
Our culture was different.
Our language was different.
So on the flight back, we were both excited.
As the plane landed on the ground, me and my sister looked out the window.
We were both smiling.
Everyone we saw was black.
As we felt ourselves blending in the crowd of people that had our complexion, we both felt it.
This is home.
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This is part of a book I am writing - https://www.comingelsewhere.com/