Going back to my roots

As this is my first blog post, I thought I would kick-start it with some great news. The last 24 hours have been quite surreal and I never thought my life would pan out like this. Coming home from work last night I pondered the issue of my parents deserting me for a few weeks as they travel to the home of my father in Mauritius. Originally I was unable to come to due to other commitments but things change and I've managed to grab a week away and booked my flight to join my parents in Mauritius. I have only been once in my short life of 25 years and 3 months in this world. The last time was in 1988, I can't really remember it in great details, but anyway, it was a really long time ago and I was still in infant school.

So skip along 20 or so years and we still have family and friends there. Some I have hardly seen since I last returned to my cultural home. I do not hold many memories of my family in Mauritius nor have I ever had an adult conversation with 90% of them. Occasionally we keep in touch over email with the odd phone call here and there and exchange photos but still being able to put voice to face and having a grown up conversation to catch up over the last 20 years is going to be a surreal experience and one I am looking forward to.

The voyage is also for me to comprehend my own cultural roots. Visiting the country, the town, the house, the school where my father grew up. This is where I came from. This is the culture that is part of me yet being in the West I have hardly come to experience it at all. I know I will arrive with a sense of excitement at finally meeting far-afield members of my family, some whom I have never met before, and will wonder how they will view my Western approach to their culture.