Gather around the dinner table

No matter what country you live in, no matter where you live, there is one thing we all have in common. We eat. We gather around with friends or family in our homes or a social gathering and we eat. To be truthful, I am a picky eater. I wasn't so much as a child but as an adult I am. Since I am allergic to bell peppers, the one vegetable my Mother absolutely loves it does make choosing what to eat a little difficult. But regardless I love all types of cuisine. If you are a someone who is adventurous with their food and are willing to give anything a try I tip my hat to you. The majority of people are not that way. I grew up eating all different kinds of cuisine. Of course starting out in India I ate Indian food. In the states I ate American food and of course moving to Japan we ate Japanese food. But I actually can't remember a lot of my childhood in California about what we ate. I know my Mother was very strict and made sure we always ate healthy and we almost never got dessert. I remember the day we left to go to Japan. My Dad had gone ahead of us to start his job and secure housing and get the details of living there worked out. My parents are Brent and Sandy Rogers. They were missionaries in India and now in Japan. They always knew that being a missionary was something that they wanted to do with their lives. And trust me it is a full time commitment. Most people don't really understand that to be a missionary takes a lot of sacrifice and being able to let go of what you want to do. But that is for another day.

The day we left I knew we were leaving America but I wasn't sad or upset about it. I was excited to go. I was of course sad to leave my friends but I didn't think much of what I would be losing or if I was even losing anything. It was more of an adventure that I couldn't wait to start. I was really looking forward to seeing my Dad again. I can remember being on the plane back when they used to serve peanuts and the food was actually pretty good. It was a long boring 14 hour flight and my Mother was stressed and tired. Who wouldn't be after dealing with a 8 and 10 year old. Yes, I have an older brother but I can't speak for his thoughts on the matter. After going through customs and making sure our dog was squared away in quarantine, we were on our way home to see my Dad. Yes, we brought our big dog with us. She was part of our family and we couldn't leave her behind. After 3 train rides to our final destination, Kojima in Okayama prefecture, my Dad was waiting for us. It was of course dark out and difficult to see the new surroundings. My Mother was tired, actually exhausted. She of course cried...who wouldn't after dealing with all of that mess and two kids? Because of the time difference we got home around 7pm. And the first thing after my Dad offered us a glass of water was " Are you hungry"? Of course we were. The plane meal had long worn off and so off we went. My Dad took me with him to go get our first experience of food in Japan. I rode on his handle bars b/c I was petite and small when I was a kid. I still am...only got to be 5ft tall. Anyway, our first experience was this hamburger place called Moss Burger. And to this day I crave it. When I call and talk to my Mother on the phone..I tell her I am craving a Moss Burger hamburger and end of flinging a craving on her. It holds a special place in my family's heart. It is not a typical American hamburger but it is what my Dad thought was a healthy close alternative to what we thought were hamburgers. I think we all thought he was going to secretly grab some baby octopus from the fridge and feed it to us that first night. Not that there is anything wrong with that. I happen to love them after all this time.

Let Us Get Acquainted

After many years of struggling and trying to figure out where I belong and of course after talking to my Mother the other night...I decided that I would start a blog. I am by nature a private and very reserved person. But that being said I decided that if I could find help or help someone else with the struggles of Finding Home why not give it a shot, right? What do you mean by Finding Home? Most people know where they are from. The state or country they were born in, the hospital or even for those born at home, the room. But there are others who can't figure out which country we belong to. Those people are considered to be Third Culture Kids. TCK are people who have parents from one country but grew up in a completely different country from the one their parents were raised in. Therefore, having the mannerisms and identification to that particular country and their culture and way of life. And when the time comes that we leave the country we grew up in and identify with, we struggle with living in any other country. It can be confusing, I know. I will give you an example and I took this confusion to the another level. I am Indian. Asian Indian. I lived in India till I was 2 when we moved to California. Then when I was 8 my family moved to Japan. Which is the country I consider Home.

When I was 13 we moved back to the US living there for 4 years before my parents and I moved back to Japan. Which I stayed for a year before moving back to the US when I was 19 where I have lived since then. Confused yet? Me too! Truthfully I was never comfortable and still am not comfortable in the US but this is where I have chosen to live. I have a family here. A wonderful and very understanding husband and three beautiful children. I am thankful for my life that I have been blessed with. For the opportunities to live outside of the normal (whatever normal is) upbringing. As for my wonderful parents? The still live in Japan and will continue to do so until God tells them not to. 

Oh and did I mention the reason for all the moving around is because my parents are missionaries? I live in a confused world in my brain. I suffer greatly from missing my home, my culture, my understanding of how the world should be. I feel lonely and isolated at times. Mostly due to the fact that I actually can't relate to people who have lived in one place their whole life. I can't imagine what is would be like to only have moved one time in your life. To actually be able to go back to the house you grew up in from birth to graduation. To take your children to the house that was once occupied by yourself. Do I wish that I had that? Not really. I am proud that my parents decided that my childhood be filled with adventure for me. I can't imagine having it any other way. But like those around me who struggle with different aspects in their life...this is what I struggle with. But I know I am not alone in this struggle. There are a lot of others out there that may be struggling with finding their home. With finding a way to keep the ever tipping balance between two cultures. How does one actually keep the two straight and is it even possible to even do so?