Backgrounds

by Tamara Imboden, on 24 May 2019 (view profile)

When I posted the photo below to add to my story on why we need a website like plus41, I realised the photo does more than just show you my childhood home and birthday tradition. The photo actually acts as a window into the strands of my backgrounds – that’s right, plural, backgrounds. The home we lived in at the time this photo was taken (Sri Lanka, 2008) was marked in many ways by many cultures. Here’s a quick summary of how.

My 15th birthday with my brothers, Nathan at 19 (left), Andreas at 23 (right)

If you pay attention to the background, just above my left shoulder, you’ll notice the dark, yet discernible Krippefigure. I don’t actually know the English terminology for these figures, but when they are set up together, they represent the nativity scene. These figurines are very common in Switzerland, and these particular ones were handmade by my Swiss grandmother. We set them up in our home under the Christmas tree every year. So here, they represent the Swiss side of my background. While we weren’t raised religiously, Christmas was always a big deal, with singing and guests and food (we didn’t know enough Christmas carols, so our – Maldivian – mum made us prepare pop songs and sing them instead).

Many Swiss people are surprised to hear that I don’t know Chasperli (is that how you spell it?) and that I only know that one line from Pumuckl (Meister Eeeedeeeeer, Meister Eder!). But I didn’t grow up with those stories. Instead, we had Ramayana, straight out of Sri Lankan mythology: Rama and his quest to retrieve his beloved Sita from the grasp of the 10-headed demon king Ravana (yeah, that’s what Chasperli sounds like to me). You can see a hint of this tradition on my right on my brother Nathan’s T-shirt of the Ramayana play that we did in school.

Another feature of this cultural jumble is that I am wearing a school uniform, a symbol of the British-International school that I went to growing up. At this school, I was taught to be British in a way that no Swiss experience could have taught me. While I have distanced myself from that particular identity over the years, it is definitely one that has noticeably shaped me. At school, I was taught by English teachers, I learnt to say football, not soccer, I learnt to advocate the -ise ending as opposed to the -ize ending. I desperately wanted to study English Literature at an English university in England. Though I didn’t end up moving to England, I did end up studying literature, and I do carry with me a love for the language, even if I study it at the University of Zurich instead.

What is less obvious in this photo is the fact of our Maldivian heritage. Although this did play a smaller part in our upbringing than Swiss and Sri Lankan traditions, it did play its part. We travelled to the Maldives on a regular basis. We ate Roshi and Rihaakuru (prepared amazingly by our nanny/cook/general superwoman Kusuma); we fasted at Ramadan and understood a little bit of the language, Dhivehi, while growing up. This never clashed with our Christmas parties, nor with our Perahera visits.

So that’s where my identity comes from. Essentially my identity is a sort of fondue where, instead of cheese, it’s made of Dhal, and instead of pieces of bread, I dip Maldivian Roshi with a side of Paul beer. The principle is Swiss, but the ingredients are from all over.