With Such Hearts

The farthest I’ve ever been away from home. It is night. We are on the roof of the hostel, looking out over the Mediterranean sea, twinkling under a velvet sky. I have never been so far away from the things that I use to define myself with- the markers and keys I use to map my position. I’m in uncharted territories, vast terrains of my own mind I have yet to explore.
It is evening, and still cold, although it is close to May. Kay and I are holding warm small cups of tea, and listening.
His face lights up when he hears that we are from Seattle. Seattle is not just another foreign city. Seattle and Istanbul are sisters. I smile politely, but I really don’t have any idea what he’s on about. Seattle is the city I grew up in, the corners and cracks I explored when I was just discovering myself. I longed to be free of it in the same way one longs to be free of oneself.
He must have sensed my doubt, for he looked at me sharply, with all earnest. “Seattle and Istanbul lie on the open ocean, but are protected by the sound, small harbors that allow us the freedom of the open sea, but protect us from its brute strength. We must be the same, with such hearts.” He smiled knowingly in the dark, white teeth flashing against that undefinable black velvet sky.
I wondered at that. Are we defined by the land we grow up in? I know that my soul is probably imprinted with green pine and hemlock trees, laced with morning fog caught in the tree tops like sheep’s wool caught in branches. Is that why I felt so at home in Istanbul? Walking down wide, sunny boulevards, or dodging crowds in towering spice markets, through it all the smell of the sea was present, a comfort, a memory.

I’m only the first generation to live in Seattle. Before that, my mother lived in California, and my father on the East coast. Generations and generations before that, my ancestors sailed from all over Great Britain, and before that, Europe. Before that, ages and ages back, Africa. 20 years marks the time my genes have been imprinted with the image of Puget Sound at night, rocky shores and gray waters that feel like a part of me more integral than fingerprints or DNA. I know I place too much emphasis on blood, that we are truly freer then that.

Sometimes I think Americans suffer from a lack of a culture. But no time do I feel more American then when I am abroad.