Home is Whenever I'm With You

Ever seen The Commitments? Roddy Doyle, the mastermind behind the story, is a contemporary Irish writer who explores social trends, from music to family relationships to racism. I'm way into him, like. (This is how they speak in Ireland - add a "like" to the end of a sentence, and you've got yourself the Irish equivalent of "ya know?")



Well, I'm a liar - I've never been to Ireland and I really have no clue what they say or how they say it over there. So anyway, I'm way into this book of Doyle's right now, called The Deportees. It's grand, like. In every story, Doyle presents an encounter among different cultures - mostly Irish and Nigerian, as Nigerians are currently the largest immigrant population in Ireland - and in every story, he furthers a discussion about the extent to which racism comes into play with nationalism.



I think Doyle is onto something here, especially after viewing Chile's national reaction to the recovery effort in the wake of a history-making 8.8 magnitude earthquake that occurred on February 27th. Doyle explores nationality in terms of scientific measurements: How does one "measure" nationality? Is it quantifiable, like how the Richter scale quantifies seismic activity? When does a person's nationality change? In what ways does it change? The subtle paradox of these questions is what drives Doyle's storytelling.



Perhaps more than any other nation, America has tried to come to grips with the nationality conundrum. I am not only an American, but I am an Italian-American, as my grandparents came over from Italy 80 years ago. Although America has tried to gradate nationality until it has become a moot point (making the Italian/Irish/Cambodian/etc. part of "American" just another way of grouping everyone into a literal melting pot of "American-ness"), the quantifcation of nationality exists as Doyle describes it: How many times have you heard an American pal explain that they are "half-Irish"? How many times have you yourself told someone that you were "twenty-five percent French"? It is hard not to want to give exactitude to home and heritage.



Chile claims itself as a homogenous nation, if in word rather than in fact. However, with increased globalization, Chile now suffers from the same social conundrum the U.S. faced with its first influx of outsiders. How should Chile refer to the Italian and German immigrants displaced after World War Two? Or the ex-pats currently invading Santiago in droves? How about the Mapuche - the indigenous group with which most Chileans share their bloodline, but are ashamed to admit it? Or - perhaps most poignant of all - how should Chile deal with the current influx of Peruvians who have come to the country in search of better standards of living?



But what does all of this have to do with the earthquake, Kate? Well, I think it all boils down to a question of Home, and how we interpret it.



I think we could agree that for most of us, our first thought of "home" elicits a mental picture of the material object; the physical structure we were raised in, the town we grew up in. For two million Chileans, this sacrosanct image of Home was obliterated during the initial quake and its very strong aftershocks.



A homemade banner in one of Santiago's boros - La Florida - proclaims the country is "United in the Effort of Chile Helping Chile." To me, this sign says everything that needs to be known about how Chile views itself as a home. Chile is a "united" country in a way that differs significantly than our "united" in the "United States". I would say that a U.S. "united" might be based in a collective desire for independence, while Chile's solidarity carries the emotional and psychological vestiges of being a successful Socialist country back in the 1970's, before Pinochet's takeover and the forced installation of a military government. In many ways, Chile is still inspired by socialism. The government has offered public healthcare for decades, the population is incredibly civically aware and engaged, and there is a collective accountability or responsibility that Chileans feel toward their country. In many ways, seeing how this collective thinking has manifested itself has been very inspiring, and I have felt more compelled here to be participant in government or community-funded projects solely because it's what people here do.



But "united" also carries the nationalist undertones of that same military government. "Chile ayuda a Chile" - "Chile helps Chile" - sometimes comes off as a somewhat ominous statement to make. Chile is certainly a proud nation, and has every right to be a proud nation: it is the most economically successful country in South America, and in many ways has recently been very politically forward-thinking (which I equate to being liberal-minded; perhaps my own bias). However, some of that pride turns into a dangerous form of uber-conservative nationalism.



I've experienced the negative effects of this nationalism firsthand. Chileans (perhaps like the Irish) can have a tendency to be xenophobic - anything out of the accepted standard deviation is literally stared at or publically called attention to. (I've had a woman hiss at me for being demasiada blanca - "too white.") Chileans can suffer from myopia - looking too close in front of their face, Chileans are quick to assume or incorporate stereotypes or black-and-white responses into their way of thinking. Chileans might not gradate "Chilean-ness" the same way we gradate nationality in the U.S. You are either Chilean, or you aren't; there are some very clear, unspoken rules about who falls into what category. Obviously, this does not describe the way all Chileans act or think, in the same way that not all Americans are conservative, evangelical yuppies who voted for George Bush.



However, it is very easy to be without a "home" in Chile. What is it like to be homeless? Where does homelessness leave you, in terms of nationality? Some people would say that without home, you are left in "Nowhere" (tipping my hat to the studies of Dr. Chris Borick and Dr. David Rosenwasser of Muhlenberg College, whose recent presentation on the politics of Bruce Springsteen's music has me thinking about our concept of "Home" in several new and insightful ways: for more, you can see Scott Kraus' article, "Why Do Both Liberals and Conservatives Love Springsteen?" in the October 17, 2009 issue of Allentown's The Morning Call). However, I think Chileans might take it a step further - without a home - in any sense - some Chileans are left in Less-Than-Nowhere.



What do I mean by this? For many immigrant Chileans (especially Peruvians, who have little to no rights in their newly-adopted country), being without a house in the aftermath of the quake is a paltry concern to being without a country. There is no step they can take that is on quantifiable ground: the Chilean community simply doesn't extend its help in the same way to people who exist without a category to exist in.



The way Chile interprets home and, in extension, nationality, could be Chile's stepping-stone to an unproductive and ugly sort of nationalism. It will be interesting to see how the way Chile rebuilds itself will incorporate nationalism and civic engagement in its quest to provide its people a home - a home in any sense.