Where are you from?
View of the eastern coastline of Mauritius from Chamarel.
Being a brown girl of Indian heritage, whose first language is French, originally from an African island but who lives in the UK, I have always struggled with the loaded question “where are you from?”. It might seem innocuous enough — why shouldn’t someone be curious about your story? But to those among us who’ve grown up in countries different to our ancestors and have many credentials aside from the color of our skin or how we pronounce specific words, it’s a question that insinuates that we don’t belong. And it’s not just once in a while that we are faced with this. It’s constant.
A bit of history to explain the unique community of Mauritius, a country that celebrates Eid, Divali Christmas and the Chinese New Year with the same buzz. Mauritius, a volcanic island in the middle of the Indian Ocean, was uninhabited until 1598. The first inhabitants were Dutch settlers from 1638 until 1710. The French took possession of the island in 1715 and brought slaves from Madagascar, Mozambique and other parts of Africa. The island was then captured by the British in 1810, during the Anglo–French war. After abolition of slavery in 1834, more than 200,000 indentured labourers were recruited, mainly from India, to work in the expanding sugar industry. They were later joined by a small number of Chinese traders. Eventually, Mauritius became an independent state and joined the Commonwealth on 12 March 1968 and became a Republic in 1992.
Although Mauritius has no indigenous population in the traditional sense, all of our ancestors came to the island a very long time ago and made it into the beautiful cultural melting pot it is today. There is a heavy influence of my Indian heritage on my cultural outfits, taste in food (biryani yuuum) and movies (Bollywood FTW), but having spent my formative years in Mauritius, I love the Sega (our folkloric song and dance), a good cuppa tea, celebrating every special event with fireworks, salted fish, French colonial architecture and I know 7 languages. This represents the combined effects of the multitude of cultures that co-exist on the island but I get a lot of raised eyebrows when I reply with Mauritius to “Where are you from?”. There is always the follow up, “but where are reaaaaaally from?”. I know what they mean. They know what they mean. They mean: Where is your brown skin from?
However, I also recognize that sometimes the reason behind this question is to see if we have shared experiences or languages, for example when I’m in a cab or at the grocery store and the driver or clerk asks me where I'm from. And for what it's worth, to all those people who can't figure out a way to ask about a person's background without insinuating something else, a much better way to phrase it is, "Where did you grow up?”. If someone tells you their truth, do not invalidate their response by asking them the same question for the 2nd or 3rd time. Be more open to the idea that a person can have a separate ethnic heritage to their background.
This invalidating of someone else’s biography even extends to our diction, to our vocabulary. Having spent over 8 years at Oxbridge in the UK, which is the majority of my adult years, I do not have the Mauritian accent anymore, and I can’t tell you how often I am complimented, for “how well you speak English.” I know it sounds like a compliment, but it is not. There is always an assumption of “We don’t expect people who look like you to be eloquent or funny.” Most of the time, I smile that painful smile while thinking to myself about how “eloquently” I can actually curse in multiple languages, each with colorful and vivid comebacks!
Regardless, my favorite (polite) tactic is to break it down in plain terms: ‘Are you asking where I grew up, or where my ancestors are from?’ It forces them to think for a minute and re-evaluate what exactly they are trying to ask, without sounding ludicrous. Or, on a more cheerful note, I’ll give them three guesses and if they guess right, we can be friends!