I'm From California South Carolina Maryland Oregon Germany Georgia...Tennessee.

If you, like me, have ever been confused about where you're from, I definitely recommend living in another country for a while.  It becomes much clearer.

If you are wondering what I mean by being confused about where I'm from...try going to 3 different elementary schools, all in different states, and 2 different middle schools, also in different states.  Add to that being born in a different state from those altogether, and throw in the fact your parents were both raised in a state you've never lived in, and you, also, may wonder where it is you're really from.  Since I went to high school in Tennessee and also lived there for a few years as a child, I always say I'm from Tennessee.  That works just fine...except in Tennessee, making me feel like somewhat of a fraud when I say it.

"You're from Tinnissey?  You ain't got uh ackseyint!"  I've heard that plenty of times.  Then, when I'm in Oregon, or any other non-southern state, I'm told that I do have a Southern accent!  I love hearing that I have one.  I've lived in Tennessee enough, and been away from it enough, to know that I really love Tennessee.  And I'm always in awe of anyone who has grown up in one place, any place, as long as it's in the same place their parents grew up, their grandparents, their great-grandparents, etc.  I think that's just really cool.

I grew up drinking unsweet tea and eating Mexican food every Friday.  My parents have never said "knee-high-to-a-cricket's-eye" or any of those cool little figures of speech I hear from Southern folk, but they know a little Spanish and they're not afraid to use it.  I enjoy all the worlds I've been privileged enough to peek into.  I'm happy with the situation that was tossed at me.  I might be the only one in my entire family with any sort of a Southern twang, but I realize right now, today, that I have every right to it.

Now, if you're from the South and haven't traveled much, you might not realize that shooting a smile at the stranger passing you by is strictly Southern culture.  You can go anywhere else within the United States that's not "The South" and people will not smile at you like they do back home.  It's not that they're not friendly...they just don't know you, and you don't know them.  Therefore they see no reason to smile.

But for those of you not from the US South...you might think it's strange to smile at pedestrians in the street.  When I was in high school, my friend from Germany visited me in Tennessee.  We were walking up my street and a car drove past.  The man driving the car waved at me and I, of course, waved back.

"Do you know him?" my friend asked.

"No...but he's in the neighborhood, isn't he?" was my response.

It's these little things that let me know that, yes--I am, in fact, from Tennessee.  And that makes me happy.  Over the past few weeks, I keep catching myself smiling at strangers as they walk by.  And I know what you Southerners are thinking--"A smile never hurt anybody!"  Well...that's true...to an extent.  But my lady friends out there probably know that sometimes, when you smile at the wrong person, it actually does cause a bit of a problem.  Especially when you're in a place where it's not normal to smile at strangers.  But, as a girl from the South, it's a tough habit to break.  I'm still doing it.

Usually when I smile at a passerby, everything is fine and dandy.  But then I flash my teeth at an apparently lonely man and he quite obviously gets the wrong idea.  Even though he may be forty-eight years my senior, have a beer gut 'til Tuesday, and unidentified brown stains down his front, I'm sure in his vivid imagination he suddenly looks just like Prince Eric...and even though I'm wearing several layers of thick sweatshirt and heavy coat, concealing any sort of womanly shape I may have, in his mind I look like Princess Ariel in her seashell swim top.  He smiles back hugely, bearing every browning tooth in his skull, and greedily eyes me up and down, stealing views I unwittingly granted him permission to take with my accidental smile.

Luckily, in Korea, that's all that will happen.  In parts of Europe--forget it.  You're getting a hug and a kiss and several persistent invitations back home for some good, good lovin'.  All because of some unfortunate eye contact and a meaningless smile.

Just today I learned the hard way about what I've been told about subway peddlers.  Quite often, while making your commute on the subway in Seoul, and in lots of places, I'm sure, you will come across a subway peddler.  There are different kinds.  Some step in your car wearing a suit and tie, carrying a small suitcase full of the item he's peddling, and will loudly give his sales pitch to the entire crowd, coming by afterward to collect money from willing buyers.  Others are vagabonds or handicapped unfortunates who are just selling packs of gum for a dollar.  They usually have a bag they are carrying full of gum and you can immediately tell they are trying to sell you something.  It's a very clever way of making a little money...and the people like getting surprised with candy and gum on their way home from work or school.  It's a win-win, really.

"Don't make eye contact with the peddlers if you don't want to buy anything," I had been told by my teacher friends.  Well, easier said than done for someone like me.  Today, as I was enjoying my ride home from Itaewon after having dinner with a friend, I made eye contact with a peddler.  He wasn't carrying a bag and he was limping.  I was innocently trying to determine whether he was drunk or just disabled when we met eyes.  I gave him a big Tennessee grin.  He slowly staggered over to me with a single pack of gum.  He couldn't talk--bless his heart!  He placed the gum lightly on my hand, which was resting on my lap, and held up one finger to let me know it was a dollar (1000 Won).  I got a little weirded out as he softly caressed the top of my hand with his, and I shook my head "no," but only because I didn't think I could chew the gum without knowing the ingredients. So, he veered off to the next unsuspecting female and tried to sell it to her.

Tennessee was pumping through my veins and seeping out through all my pores.  It put a huge grin on my face...schon wieder! (already again...just sounds better in German)

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