Here  goes.

I live in Ankara, Turkey.  The people I meet, unless they’re Turks, are travelers or expats, like me.  So…you would think they would understand.  They don’t.  The first question people ask is, “Where are you from?” 

I’m not “from” anywhere.  This answer is met with condescending or quizzical looks.  Everyone is from somewhere.  Well, I’m not.  I was born in Ankara, Turkey to my American parents who met and married here long, long ago.  I only lived here for about a year, before we all moved on to Maine.  So, trying to answer with where I was born is just met with more frustration. 

My next answer is Alaska.  Why Alaska?  Simply because that is the only place in the USA where I have lived the longest and lived there with my husband and daughters.  I lived there only 1/6 of my life, and now none of my family lives there, and I can hardly remember place names.  This answer works better than the nowhere one, but the satisfaction never lasts long if I’m talking to someone who has been there recently and expects me to actually know things about the state.

Score = Them: 1, Me: 0. 

As the first question has now completely bombed, a persevering conversationalist will then ask one of two follow-on questions.  Spoiler alert.  I suck at both these questions, too.

What do I do?  This one is relatively easy.  I’m a teacher.  Oh, an English teacher?  No, an elementary teacher.  Again, strange looks.  I must be an English teacher.  What would an elementary teacher be doing in Turkey?  Well, teaching kids of course.   Yes, in English…but they are American kids.   This, too is a talk blocker.  Who cares; to world-wide travelers, teaching regular American kids, is just plain boring.  Them: 2, Me: 0.

Or, where have I been?  Ok, so I’ve done a fair amount of traveling.  Now I have to try to size the person up.  Is she an avid traveler who likes to lock horns comparing cities, cuisines, weird experiences, or lost luggage tales?  Or is she just asking because it’s polite.  To answer this question, I start out slow.  Well, I’ve lived here almost one year, and before that I was in South Korea.  Either she bites and asks the inevitable, or she leaves.  Let’s play.  She bites.

Oh, how many places/countries have you been to?  Argh!  There is absolutely no way to answer this question either.  Do you mean legal countries?  What about territories or disputed areas, like Taiwan?  How do you count states?  How about places like the Aleutians?  Numbers don’t cut it.  I try to avoid this question.  The only way for the conversation to continue at this point is if my counterpart really has been some great far-flung places.  Otherwise, I get bored and need to move on.  Still, I look like the bad guy.  Them: 3, Me: 0.

If I get lucky, this new acquaintance will not ask the number question, but will ask one just as difficult.  What is your favorite place?  This is like asking which daughter is my favorite.  Uh, they’re all different.  Completely different.  How can you make a comparison?  I stumble, I stutter.  I’m done.  That’s it.  A win.  Them: 4, Me: 0.  It’s all over.  I watch numbly as my would-be friend darts away, muttering to all “Stay away from her.  She’s an idiot!”