Where’s Home?

Where is home? Many people born in other countries who might have migrated to other countries may ask themselves this question, I know I have. I was born in a little country in Central America named Guatemala. Guatemala means “place of many trees” in the Mayan language. I lived there happily with my grandparents, aunts, uncles and lots of cousins. This was until my grandparents decided it was time for my brother and I to live with my mother in the United States. I was eleven years old when I got on a plane for the first time to my new life.

Like many others, my mother had left Guatemala looking for a better life for herself and my brother and I, after her divorce from my father. Being a single mother in Guatemala wasn’t easy. So she did what she had to do, even if it meant us being separated.

She sent for us when she was settled, re-married, and expecting a new baby. Leaving home at the age of eleven was one of the most difficult times in my life. There were countless changes.

For starters, I went from being one of the most popular girls in school to having absolutely no friends. On top of that, I didn’t understand the language. Also, my name suddenly changed. People suddenly started to pronounce my name, Sheela, instead of Shayla. Unable to communicate the correct way, I was forced to accept my new identity.

My brother and I started 4th and 6th grade at elementary school. Being the only two out of four latinos that didn’t speak english was extremely difficult for us. We had no friends, didn’t speak the language and we were bullied and were not able to defend ourselves. I cried every single day wanting to go back home but my family was here now, there was nothing I could do.

A very difficult year went by and English became the primary language I spoke with my brothers. Well that, and Spanglish of course, which we were getting mui bien at.

On my first day of middle school I met my new friend that had been in this country longer than me and thought it was a good idea for her to teach me how to be “American” she told me she was going to teach me how to be preppy and was going to teach me about Rick Springfield and his song Jesse’s girl. She told me that I was supposed to use the word “like'' and try to fit it in in most of the sentences I spoke.  I was like very excited about all these new like “American” things I was like learning.

I was growing up in this new place, working after school in different places. My first job was at a very cute cafe called Cafe Portofino. I learned how to make the perfect espresso. I met a few girls who were older than me and taught me what to order from a Deli because I had no idea what foods were sold at delis. 

 While I went to High School I studied Cosmetology and when I graduated I became a hairstylist. Eventually opened a hair salon and was a business owner for for fifteen years.

Through the years I met so many people who had visited Guatemala and eventually, they started asking me, “When are you going back home to visit?” Every time, I would shrug and say, “There’s no one to go back to. All my family is here.” But deep down inside, I knew I would have to return someday. After all, it was home, wasn't it? One of the reasons why I didn't want to go back home was because both my grandparents had passed away in the United States and going back home to Guatemala without them was a thought I couldn't bear. I had come here with them, Guatemala without them didn't seem possible.

After meeting, dating, marrying and having kids with my husband, we started to travel to new places, but never went back home. It wasn’t until my eldest daughter said to me, “I have been to Portugal, where my Dad was born, but never to Guatemala where you were born,” then I realized it was time to plan a trip back home.

I started planning the trip, sharing my plans with everyone around me. The opinions were endless. They would say things like, “I hear Guatemala is very dangerous” have you heard the news? Things are bad over there!  and “Don’t get robbed! Or kidnapped!” I started to become increasingly nervous about my trip, not knowing what to expect.

When we arrived in Guatemala, I was filled with anxiety. All the things the people in my life had said to me became my biggest worries.

Eventually, I settled down a bit and tried to take in the beautiful sights around me. I saw one of the most beautiful lakes in the world, Atitlan, surrounded by volcanoes and of course lots of trees. I saw coffee growing high in the mountains with clouds touching them, a colonial little town called Antigua. Colorful flowers blooming everywhere and delicious fruits surrounded me. I tasted foods that brought me back to my childhood immediately. Humbled and well mannered people welcomed me everywhere.

While Guatemala was incredibly beautiful, I couldn’t shake this new feeling. Everything was different. I didn’t recognize it. I came to realize that this was a new country to me.

When I returned back to the United States, I felt so relaxed and at ease. I came to realize that all the years of looking back at Guatemala and referring to it as home were behind me, Guatemala will always have a special place in my heart. In the United States, I was back to the life I knew. Back to my cozy little house  with my husband and two daughters. Back to the United States where I became a citizen. I was back home.