“Home for me means family. Home is those people who have shared many moments and memories with you,” says Marco, an Ecuadorian J1 visa worker who has traveled to multiple countries, now working at the Tunnel Creek Cafe in Incline Village.
A J-1 visa allows foreign students, recent graduates, and professionals to train and work in U.S. restaurants and the hospitality industry for a structured period, promoting cultural exchange and professional development.
“Home is where you feel comfortable and joyful, and that can mean family,” adds Miguel, his colleague, a Peruvian J1 worker.
“Never in my life did I think I would travel around the world, but over time things developed for me, which gave me the opportunity to leave my country, " Miguel said.
For them and countless other immigrants, home is no longer a single place, but a tapestry of memories, connections, and resilience.
Adapting to new surroundings is never easy, especially for immigrants who must adapt to unfamiliar languages, norms, and cultures in order to feel like they belong. Many might feel caught between two worlds, balancing their roots with the pressure to belong in a new land.
“It's something you experiment with when you're outside of your country. You feel like you left everything behind. It feels like you have to start all over again to blend in another country that isn't yours,” said Marco, about how he felt when he first landed in Spain 15 years ago.
For Marcos, this was his second year working at Tunnel Creek, while this was Miguel's first just concluded summer in Incline.
“Where I felt the most cultural shock was in Spain, where, despite speaking Spanish, the customs and daily life felt so different it was quite hard to adapt at first”, Marco said. During his 15 years of living there, Marco adapted well which made him embrace the Spanish culture. “I felt the need to fit in, and time helped me do that. Now I feel identified not only with my country (Ecuador) but with Spain as well.”
For Miguel, who has also lived in Spain, the evolution of identity and adaptation was equally profound. “It wasn't cultural but one moment that changed me the most was in Spain, this one person made me experience racism. It made me feel sad, but it was just one person, the rest were great. I couldn't let that change my outlook,” Miguel said, emphasizing on his determination to focus on the warm welcome of those who weren't ignorant.
Living abroad forces you to open up. I’m not just tied to Peru anymore; I’ve adapted to Ecuador’s traditions and norms. You become one of them,” he said of having many Ecuadorian friends and having lived in Ecuador himself as well.
“I remember when I was back in Peru for a family gathering, and I brought a CD with me with a bunch of Ecuadorian music. I played it and after I finished dancing with my family, I got a bunch of uncanny looks, and I didn't take it personally. I said it's logical, I live there now, so it felt normal for me to feel close and connected to a culture that wasn't mine although some didn't understand.”
For Marco and Miguel, blending into new cultures has redefined the meaning of home. The pressure to adapt to a foreign country made them realize that home is a feeling of connection, not a fixed place.
Home isn’t a pin on a map, but a feeling crafted through courage, adaptation, and patience, transforming a new country into their new home. They have both traveled throughout the world, and they had to sacrifice their identity in order to blend in.
“Here people are less sociable. Everyone seems to be living in their own world, I don't see many people caring for each other as much,” Miguel said of his latest challenges in the Tahoe area.
Reporting and photo by Bryan Fragoso