I must have been three, and I went missing. Then someone brought me home. It turned out that they were nomads just passing through our area and after a while they discovered me trailing them. As fast as a three year old can walk, probably. I think now that the small me must have watched the nomads pass our house and become so fascinated by them and their camels, that I just followed after them to find out more. I was a child with no thoughts of any consequences.
I’ve always been fascinated by the nomadic lifestyle. It seems so free and liberating to move from place to place, not being bound by any place or government. But it isn’t of course. Nomads are often looked down on just because of these reasons. And I know myself that moving and moving creates a restlessness and homelessness that isn’t all fun. I’ve moved lots. I stopped counting when I passed 40 times. It’s probably nearer 50 now.
When talking about third culture children, terms like ‘cultural hybrids,’ ‘cultural chameleons’ and ‘global nomads’ are often used. Global nomad is a term that arrived with modern society and the world growing smaller. It’s used about people who travel or move constantly from one country to another without a permanent home or job. Their ties to their passport country have loosened. The term is also used about third culture children and cross cultural children who also moves around the world lots, like military and embassy children.
I like the term. It gives associations of flow and moving. But I’m conflicted about it too. Because my life drama is, just like it is for most third culture and cross culture children or children who have moved lots, that even though I’m restless to the extreme, I long for a safe and stabile home. As I have read somewhere: the greatest adventure for the third culture child is perhaps not travelling the worlds, but to settle in a home.