Culture

Culture is a funny thing.

Some people grow up resenting theirs.
They have fought so hard against how they grew up, what they were told.
And its only until later in life that they realise that
their culture
their history
their heritage
really is important.

I watched a small part of a documentary over the weekend.
It was about a woman.
Whose great-grandfather was Aboriginal.
She was raised in a typically suburban Australian family.
She always knew something was missing.
That there was to more to her life,
to her history
Than she was ever told about.
She discovered the secret about her grandfather and went on a journey of discovery.
She met her people.
She underwent traditional rituals
And after the experience she felt whole.
Like that was how she should of been raised.

I feel like this woman.
I can relate to her feeling of being lost.

Our family has no traditions.
No real culture.
The only thing each generation passes down are lies.
We have family secrets.
Only those in the oldest generations are aware of what these secrets are.
The rest of us only know they exist.

I think this is why,
After 23 years of having no culture or traditions
I have taken on learning the Italian language.
I have a thirst to know more.
I am embracing the traditional Italian recipes.
I want more than anything to go there, to experience it all.

Who knows, perhaps one day our heritage will finally be known.
Perhaps the reason I feel this tug towards Italy is because we come from there.

The dark curly hair,
The ability to roll R's,
and our love of garlic and basil and pasta
Must of been handed down from someone, or somewhere.

Only in my dreams would this be a possibility.