How Paddington Made Me Cry

“You can have mixed feelings about where you’re from, and maybe that’s okay” — Paddington in Peru

As I sat on my flight back from Edinburgh to Singapore, aimlessly scrolling through the list of possible movies, I found a film that piqued my interest solely because of its cute character — Paddington in Peru. Ironically, I found myself embarrassingly wiping away my tear streaks in broad daylight, as passengers and stewards threw me weird glances while they walked past my seat. The show featuring a teddy bear surprisingly riled up so many emotions in me; it felt too coincidental that I selected a show about the idea of belonging just as I was on my flight back home.

Just that morning, as I packed my stuff from my freshman dorm, I couldn’t help but wonder: Am I going back home, or am I leaving it behind? To me, the concept of home had always been tied to a physical space — the architecture, the food, the locals. An international friend told me over breakfast that we can never truly belong in a foreign country, and to a certain extent, I agree. We can never completely understand the mannerisms and quirks of the locals in a foreign land, and thus a part of us will always feel like we don’t fit in

However, as I watched Paddington, I realised that the concepts of “Home” and “Family” do not need to be tied to any tangible area — Paddington could never belong in London more than he would in the forest, El Dorado; and Paddington could never completely adopt the cultures of humans as easily as he would in his bear community, as we notice him reverting to his “bear” self when eating and drinking. However, Paddington chose to remain in London because to him, family is the community that has supported him all the way. Likewise, my identity does not belong to a place, but rather, it belongs to the community of people who have been my biggest cheerleaders and comforters as I navigate the new life I have built for myself.

As I stepped foot into Singapore Changi Airport, I realised that I did not miss this place as much as I thought I would, because a physical space that holds no memories is akin to the bones of a skeleton. However, as I reunited with my family, I felt this enveloping, suffusing warmth surge through me, like sunshine radiating from the cockles of my heart. Basking in the bustling conversations and peals of laughter fixed a part of me that I never knew was missing — My family had meant so much to me, and always will. My identity was rooted in the relationships I have formed with the people around me, no matter the place and circumstance. And because I have formed valuable relationships in different areas across the globe, my identity can be a concoction of both Singapore and Edinburgh, forming my unique personal cocktail.

“You can have mixed feelings about where you’re from, and maybe that’s okay”

— Paddington in Peru

In the next few months, I don’t picture myself missing Edinburgh as much, but I know I will miss the people that I’ve come to love and adore, for I know that that is where lies my second home.