Friday, February 10, 2012
Here is the original link that inspired me to write this:
Now I should write up a tiny dictionary of the foreign terms I used up below:
-Desi: Usually refers to people from India, Pakistan, & Bangladesh
-Queen City: Official nickname for Charlotte, NC
-Halal: Generally meaning of acceptance to the Islamic practices
-Sky-high: Having used much of a narcotic substance
-Dahi batata puri: Popular Indian dish made of potatoes and yogurt
Here is the song I would like for you to watch after reading my message! :) it'll make sense then: Corinne Bailey Rae - Put Your Records On
I kneww I was a Desi in disguise!
:) hehehe just kidding.
But it's crazy how I relate to all of it! I laughed so much at the joke of
finding an answer to 'How're you?' or 'how're ya doin?' To this frrreakin day I still give a full answer after judging how I am and all that. So crazy :)
By the time I say I am doing great thanks and u? The wall becomes humanized and walks away haha.No for real, I have experienced ALL of what she mentions except for .. nope I have reread it through and I have had every one of the things mentioned, as a foreign chick in the U.S. of A.
The fake laughters at the obscene, obnoxious jokes which frankly made me think 'oh crap, I'll never have a real laugh with them.'
Being disgusted by their choice of food for a long time, although I had arrived at 12 years of age when more susceptible to blending in, I kept packing my lunch which were always made fun of but I was afraid of eating some nasty, indistinguishable meat and smelly blur. Now that I know what they are, I can say that what scared me off were Pepperoni, gravy, hash browns, white buns, french fries, well all of it. :)
But then taste buds are introduced to the addicting chemical ingredients in the cheapest pick ups whether in grocery stores, school cafeterias, or restaurants.
I grew 6 years in looks in 6 months! *Sigh, shaking my head*
I was wow'ed when I saw our first rental townhouse in Charlotte thinking it was a mansion and the best place I had ever lived at! full carpeting, central cooling and heating, stairs haa, a dryer!, many bedrooms, and a garden..now I am aware that the neighborhood and the specific housing are of the ghettoest of fob ghettoes of our queen city. :)
Wanting to fit in for several years through ages 12 to 16...up until UNCC happened and I found myself dedicated to studying International Studies (THE main chapter of my positively evolving life)
During those 4-5 years of feeling a loss of identity..I jumped on the Halloween wagon, even tried to force the derogatory humor on my senses, paid extra effort to erase off my accent, befriended shaniquoas, shaquondas, taes, albertos, marias and lawandas, (only attended minority populated schools and I'm very glad I did so :D) but...I still longed for the once familiar attitude of: 'F. the rigidness of your need for privacy, I'm sleeping over and kissing you, my friend, in public as innocently as children are' kinda friendships and fantasized a culturally superior motherland... (Oh crap!)
I too did the tear-shedding at the sound of our national anthem, listened and watched every movie and song that came my way, frequented the halal markets to find some rotten and overpriced Turkish goods, consistently made comparisons between the U.S. and Turkey that most oftenly reinforced the stereotypes that were thrown in my face...
Then the more vacation times I spent in Turkey plus the study abroad in Istanbul came along my way.I was called the American based on my endeavors, my motherland was no longer the same neither in the physical sense nor in my own flexibly fragile perception. Places and preferences in general grew more americanized every day while kids, teens, adults alike struggled to find their balance in stance against/for this americanization biased global new world that infected the cultural, social, popular, economic, and political spheres of their lives with 'renovation'...I felt lonely, lost, confused, disappointed in the hypocrisy, the world (dis)order, and mainly in myself...
I had tried to form a bridge between the two lands and I wanted to be this awesomer-than jamaican runner who could be at either side exemplifying perfection of both lands striving for success and prosperity.
As I finished polishing the wheels of my bike and actually got on the road of my cultivating ride, I noticed my left and right more clearly, the sun shone so bright that I had to blink a little more, I might have even shed some wind-blown tears, I saw the ugly and the beautiful on both sides. I decided to stroll along,
nevertheless it was 'my' own personal ride after all. I could always look up to the sky when I chose to see nothing else. My bird-chirping, forested, planted path under the rain-or-shine rainbowed sky led me through exciting curves with bumps here and there. Dance performances for my sky-high Caribbean buddies, finding crazy inspiration in a Jewish prof, finding a piece of my heart in Cuba, being ashamed of the gigantic cruise ships along the poor Nassau shores, full-heartedly going to spicy Spain to return broken-heartedly after facing super densely scattered homelessness, the desensitization towards the exhaustive prostitution that seemed to serve 24/7 and the explicit segregation within public spaces...think think think. How to do..what to see.
Ignorance? Acknowledgement? Acceptance? Avoidance? Judgement? Complaints? or Compliance?!
I woke up one day.. It was sunny and pretty warm as I always prefer it. "3 little birds sat on my window and they told me I don't have to worry". I said to myself: hold up now miss Marwa Merve Mervina Ela eey ey Elita Chinita Sofia, if this is the world that shelters us all despite of conflicts and disaccords there must be an overwhelming much of connect-the-dots! Let's visit history lane from even before I learned how to ride a bike (which I confess is very recent) and look at the beauuuutifully humane... you know? what gives us that everlasting energy to shine, rise up, and hope for serenity. A nude hunter-gatherer in Papua New Guinea, a Steve Jobs-worshipping overachiever in
Chicago, or synthesis of freedom fighter/doctor in Kashmir...there definitely is a natural yet magical stream of interdependent humanity to welcome us in front of or behind each door.
I freed myself from the need to belong. I ripped several of my titles and labels. I burned the bridge!
Oh how liberating it is to use different modes of transportation. Thanks to technological advances, there's airway that crosses the oceans :) and I get to 'borrow' the bikes of the folks on lands to explore. Now to speak of actual bikes, motorbikes, or else-what's the point of ownership anyways when you can alternatively worry not of insurance, theft, and clingy materials!
I don't fit in anymore and this usually means alienation and isolation from the old folks and new ones passing through waving and saluting for a short minute. Though it sure does get easier to point out and meet the sky-huggers over time.
Aahahha I just thought of how I convinced a Chinese buddy to go order 'festival in his mouth' at an Indian cafe! (dahi batata puri) Globalization isn't much that bad after all. :)
I could go on forever with this; the whole cultural and global unity/disunity thing is very fascinating to me.I hope I didn't bore or tire you!
Pardon, Perdon, Désolé, Khēda, Jālikaramaina.