After 7 years in
Denmark, I still go to Danish classes, not for an exam anymore, mainly to
practice speaking Danish. The others in the class are there with similar
reasons. Since none of us get to practice Danish with Danes that much, that
classroom is the only time that we get to engage in longer conversations in
Danish.
To create
conversation topics, the teachers bring news articles, podcast episodes, etc.
to each class, or we watch the day’s news. Once, the teacher played a podcast
that was about discussing letters Danes wrote describing the, very Scandinavian
/ first world, challenges they face in their lives. The goal was to discuss the
challenge in the letters before hearing what the podcast hosts recommend to the
letter-writers. Two out of three letters we discussed were about birthdays.
More specifically, one was about a father-in-law not inviting his son-in-law to
his birthday, since they can’t get along, and the other one was about a person
who thought they were invited to a destination birthday and wedding while not
being invited. At some point in the class, I told the teacher “I can’t relate
to this. Not sure if I can discuss it.”
To be frank, for
the former, if they really can’t get along, this is for the best. Not everyone
in a family has to like each other, except for the people who make the decision
to get married or live together as partners voluntarily.
The latter
screams privilege to me, as I am not close to anyone who can afford a
destination wedding or birthday. Plus, I don’t remember any of my family
members throwing a birthday party that required invitations. For my
grandparents’ generation, celebrating birthdays was not even a thing for most,
especially if they were from a rural area. Hence, it was up to us, the children
and the grandchildren, to celebrate their birthday. One key reason was it
wasn’t usually clear when they were actually born. Sure, they had a birthdate
on their ID, but this was rarely their real birthday.
I may be the
most reliable source in my family when it comes to remembering people’s
birthdays and anniversaries. But, after I moved abroad, I have never made an
attempt at being present at a family member’s birthday. Unless the birthday
coincided with my regular vacation time, I wasn’t there. I also rarely make an
attempt at being present at loved ones’ weddings. Considering how often I
travel; I will likely not even be present at your birthday or wedding even if
we live in the same city. In contrast, I have a better track record at being
present at funerals and wakes.
A few years ago,
one of my parents’ ex-colleagues wrote to me a long text on whatsapp. This was
a person that I liked but wasn’t close to, and I hadn’t talked to them since I
left my hometown in 2005. The text in short said that I should consider my parents’
wellbeing and start looking at academic positions in Turkey to move back as
soon as possible.
I am well aware
that me living abroad as my parents’ only child has been difficult for my
parents. It hasn’t been easy for me either.
I am also well
aware that whenever my parents have an urgent need, I am rarely there for them,
unless you count emotional support. They have relatives, family friends,
ex-students … who provide the more well-rounded support system. On the other
hand, I am sure that my mom didn’t give birth to me so that I can care for her
in her old age. Plus, I have been going through life with a substantially
weaker support system than my parents have. That is the artifact of living
abroad.
The text of my
parents’ ex-colleague, while inappropriate, was well-intentioned just like the
statements made by some people whenever I visit Turkey, which in short boils
down to “When will you be back for good? Stop torturing your parents.” Whenever
I hear such statements, it is as if someone stabs me in the chest. On the other
hand, I can’t be angry at these people for caring for my parents, even though I
don’t fully agree with the logic and find the comments boundary-crossing.
Another version
of these types of comments takes it to the next level and focuses on the
country instead of family. They boil down to “It is a pity that so much of our
youth is abroad. Your country needs you. Don’t escape and serve others. Come
help fix your country.”
Is living in a
country a necessary precondition for preventing its downward spiral?
During the three
years that I lived in the US, I traveled to Los Angeles from San Jose three
times to vote (twice in Turkish general elections and once the 2017
referendum), sometimes carpooling with Twin Sister and her partner (5-6 hours’
drive) and sometimes taking a flight (~1hour). In the case of the referendum,
our flight was cancelled due to the rain in LA, so we drove instead, voted, and
drove back on the same day. In contrast, I know people who live in Turkey, not
escapees like me, who didn’t bother to go to vote in those elections or
referendum either to avoid breaking their vacation or weren’t thrilled about
the opposition party or opposition leader, even though they strictly opposed
the ruling party.
If we look at
our relations to people and places from the perspective of expectations and
duties, I guess I am the bad daughter, relative, friend, citizen … I would like to have less boxed-up
relationships, though.
To my loved
ones, I’ll always do my best to be there for you even if I am not where you
are.
To my country,
if we manage to have another election, despite the opposition ending up in
prison one by one, I will be there for you as well, no matter how long it takes
me to go to the voting booth.
No comments:
Post a Comment