One would expect a simple conversation-starter to be just that but it is sometimes complicated.

Living and growing up among many cultural worlds can create issues of identity and belonging – there is transition, loss and unresolved grief.

It is not that people get offended being asked, in most cases they are happy to talk about their countries of origin, but often it is not without some sorrow.

For many whose countries have experienced the devastation of war, the world they knew will never be accessible again, even if they physically return.

This is a great loss and sometimes hard to talk about to people who have grown up in a safe and peaceful place like Tasmania.

Working in an organisation that supports people from diverse cultures, allows me to give one perspective on why it is sometimes difficult for people to answer that question.

This is the story of Zodin and her family who resettled as part of Australia’s Humanitarian Program.

A sad part of this story is it is not uncommon.

Every person from a refugee background has been forced to leave their homes to find safety, not knowing when they can return, if at all.

My name is Zodinpui Bunghma, I was born in Burma.

Due to the political conflicts, my family had to leave our own home in Burma.

I do not remember much as I was very young, but I’ve heard many stories about it from my father regarding how difficult and dangerous it was during the travel from Chin State Burma, to neighbouring Mizoram Hill, India.

We left Mizoram Hill to attend a refugee camp in New Delhi, India.

We had to do this because it was not safe for us to return to Burma.

We registered with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNCHR has a mandate to protect forcibly displaced communities and stateless people, and assist in their voluntary repatriation, local integration or resettlement to a third country).

After living six years in a refugee camp in India, we were granted the opportunity to migrate to Australia in 2008.

My siblings’ and my most common and fluent language became Mizo and Matu. We were also exposed to the local culture there.

When questioned “where do you come from?”, I have to pause and consider how I am going to answer due to my different cultural backgrounds.

My answer may depend on the people and the situation as well.

Although I have grown up in two entirely different worlds, sometimes I feel that I don’t belong to either one.

However, my ancestors are from Burma, which vividly shows my Burmese ethnicity.

When being questioned “where do you come from?”, it also may interpret to “where is home?”.

Since I have been living in Launceston for 10 years, I now consider Launceston as part of my second home.

I am a little like Zodin in that I choose my answer depending on the day.

For fun, I sometimes conduct little experiments to test my personal theories.

A few years ago, I attended my husband’s high school reunion in North West Tasmania.

Out of a group of about 100 people, I was visibly the only Asian in the room.

During the course of the evening, the most common question I was asked was "where are you from?".

My answer that night was Launceston and I couldn’t help grinning to myself at the mixed reactions this response was getting.

From surprise, scepticism, disappointment and doubt, I was having fun collecting the data set for my experiment. 

One person even said "no really, you’re not from here", followed by ‘‘can I ask where you are from, where were you born and what’s your parents’ heritage"? Bingo!

Words are powerful and how we ask a question can be the difference between awkward and comfortable.

Next time you meet someone and are curious about their background, try asking in different ways.

Mix it up and conduct your own little experiment.

There might just be a more interesting way to start the conversation for you and the person you are asking.