It was late in June, and I had been in Dortmund, Germany for about four months. While at a neighborhood festival, a group of five curious Chinese graduate students asked me, "So wait, what exactly are you, really?" The question caught me by surprise, but they were rightfully confused. When I met Chen Feng earlier that evening, I was conversing in German. Then when she introduced me to her husband Chen Chen and three other male colleagues, I was with a group of American friends speaking English. With the group of Chinese students, I had greeted them and introduced myself in Chinese.

I looked Asian, but when they heard my German and English, they didn't know how to reconcile that with my appearance. I paused for a moment and then responded, "I am an American." Telling them that I was an American came so naturally that I even surprised myself.

It was not the first time someone had asked that question. Four years ago I was in Germany doing a one-year exchange program. But when asked that very same question, I was fearful and felt violated. I even turned defensive.

I was categorized as the un-American American. I was neither black nor white, so for most people around the world, that meant I was an Asian claiming to be an American. I was different from other American exchange students in the eyes of most of the Germans I met. That included my host father and the parliamentarian for whom I had worked. But I don't regret these experiences because they made me grow.

So there I was four years later, in Germany again. But this time, I was more comfortable. It was unique being in the middle of a German city, speaking Chinese and fielding questions about my American identity. This time, I actually enjoyed it.

I no longer minded that people didn't think of me as a typical American -- I enjoyed being different. I was, and still am, proud of it. So when Chen Feng asked me about my background, I gladly told her I was a naturalized U.S citizen from Taiwan, studying German language and literature. The full entanglement of culture has made me who I am today.

When I look back at my time in Germany, it was not just about living in a different culture and speaking a new language. It was about facing the challenge of understanding, explaining and feeling comfortable with my own identity.

My unique situation later helped me to translate for an American family applying for Visas from a Chinese Embassy in Germany. What a great metaphor for the intriguing web of human interaction. I found it tremendously exciting that I could form a link between that human connection.

I no longer look at my own identity as a crisis, but as a compliment. Most things in life tend to be complex, so I would never want to be simple.I will always value the complexity of my multi-cultural identity.