What am I?

Every now and then a stranger is interested in my nationality or what race I am. The conversation usually goes something similar to this:
“So where are you from?”
“Cape Town, born and bred.”
“And your parents?”
“I think they were both born in Port Elizabeth.”
“Oh, so what nationality are you?”
“South African”
Eventually the conversation withers down to “Chinese”.
This got me thinking, what am I? Anyone who knows me well, knows I am the furthest thing from chinese, apart from eating the food. But, hell, I got a friend who is British and he enjoys it too. I don’t speak it or practice any cultural celebrations. If I had to be honest, I don’t feel a strong connection to my heritage. Does this make me bad? Is it really that sad? Because I don’t have pride for a country I haven’t even been to? So, am I Chinese?
Am I South African? Yes. But mainly because of location, it’s the name of the country I was born and live in. But do I believe in and support what the leadership that represents South Africa? No, but I love where I live. So, am I South African?
Am I Capetonian? Yes, but only because where it is situated on the map, but if it were named differently I’d also be whatever it were called.
So, What am I? Am I my profession, my musical taste or hobby? I guess I’m all those things, but I’m also an effect of time. Our qualities develop & evolve through countless challenges over time. So, what am I? What are you?
Maybe our qualities should be what defines us and not labels, boundaries and borders.
Little do we know that it is the variations that keep us alive.
So what am I? I guess I’m human.

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