I stopped what I was doing and looked at my father. He had a serious look on his face. Our eyes met. “No soy coreano, ni japonés, soy un nómada desarraigado,” he muttered. “Huh?” “It’s Spanish. I always wanted to be a Spaniard.” I didn’t reply. “But it didn’t work out. Turns out, it wasn’t about speaking the language.”
