Eyes

‘Are you going home for Christmas?’

To ask someone that question, it must mean you are sure of a few things. First, that the person you’re speaking to is not currently at home, that home is somewhere they must return to, sooner or later. Secondly, by implication, that in one way or another you do not see them as belonging here, that there is something of the stranger about them and there will always be. Thirdly, that they must (still) belong in that place you have branded ‘home’ for them. Fourth, that if they wish to celebrate or commemorate, then it follows they should do so in the place where you believe they actually belong. Celebrations and commemorations imply, perhaps require community, or at least a desire to be in community. Community is what you have where you belong.

When you are asking this person in front of you if they are going home for Christmas, you’re thus not simply asking them about their holiday plans. You’re asking them why they’re here, do they actually think they belong here, and when are they going back where they came from.

I think the person I was speaking to must have noticed my confusion when he asked me this very question. ‘Home?’ I wanted to say, ‘I’ve come here from home, the home that I own, where I unclog the drains once every few weeks, argue with building management over poor decisions, complain about the internet connection to my partner, with whom I share this home, who indeed is home.’

He could have asked me if I have plans to go see my parents over Christmas, if I miss them, if they expect to see me when I break from work in December, if they’d be sad if I spent Christmas travelling elsewhere. Again.

But every question is a choice, a choice that expresses a worldview.

I’ve learned, in time, to see myself through the eyes of other people’s questions.

‘Where’s your accent from?’

‘Is that where Dracula’s castle is?’

‘How come you never vacationed abroad as a child?’

‘Why did you move to Britain?’

‘But why did you want to study here?’

‘But why here, why not some other country?’

‘Where did you learn to speak English?’

‘You don’t want to move back, do you?’

‘How often do you go back home?’

‘Are you going home for Christmas?’

It doesn’t take much, teaching someone they’re foreign, foreign in a visceral sort of way. When you ask someone a question, you hand them your eyes.

What are your eyes seeing? How much are they seeing? Where did you get your eyes from? What do they keep turning to, again and again?

Here are my questions. Here are my eyes.