I'm Outside Your House

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New country. New agenda. New freedom.

“I’m outside.”

“Where?”

“Your house.”

“Is it raining?”

”No.”

“It’s raining where I am.”

I have no business showing up at your residence without notice and expect electronic gates and main doors to welcome me with open arms. Yes, we are supposed to be best friends or close cousins, but it’s a new day, a new country, a new agenda and a new dollar. Canadians and Americans have parents and grandparents that come from some where else.

They got off the plane or ship with values of hospitality and brotherhood. The original settlers from Europe  share the same policy with immigrants that landed here ten years ago. Policy? Yes. Open door policy because whether it is Europe, Africa, Asia or Afghanistan, we all come from the open door policy of dropping by, unannounced.

“I was in the neighbourhood. That’s why I decided to drop by and check up on you,”

This is Canada and America. Yes, we were born in the same village in Africa, Italy, Ukraine or India but such ties have been replaced by more immediate ties, political ties, immersion ties, ties to the dollar. That is why you must call me before coming to my house so that I can prep myself for your visit. I must prepare my smiles, my demeanor and the glass of apple juice I will offer. Consider yourself lucky. In England, they offer you a glass of sherry you must drink like baby steps, because that is it. No second glass for you and I hope you won't stay for more than 30 minutes. 

That is why you must never do that again, tell me you are outside my house. This is Canada and America, not home.

Nonqaba waka Msimang

Blogger Without Borders

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