Are you fully integrated in the society you're living in?

Are you? Think twice! Or, better said, what does it mean to be fully integrated? Speak the language, adopt the local customs, habits, superstitions, curse like the locals, participate in politics, legalize your status? Another question can be: Do you want to be fully integrated?
I am what I am, and I don't want to change that! If I want to change something, it is not in that direction, but to become a better me, with a higher understanding of things and places. I believe that a better me would have no problem living in any society. And I explain this by saying that a wiser me would have the capacity to educate those around me to accept me as I am! Education, here lies the biggest problem, not only to the situation exposed in this article, but to many other problems in any society! Why do i say that? Well, recently, I had a dispute in a parking lot, with a middle aged guy, who, in any other circumstance would look like an ordinary middle class man. The first thing he said (actually, he was shouting) when he realized I am a foreigner, was: "call the police, these illegals are criminals! I will send you back to where you belong! Why did you come here, to steal from our houses, and steal our jobs?". And that came after i tried to calm the man, speaking nicely, with respect, and not responding to his physical provocation. How do you respond to that? Well, first, a complaint to police needed proof, and witnesses! i cannot chase people on the street asking them to testify for me, i didn't even have the presence to think of it. Then, i searched for organizations that deal with this kind of discrimination, and all i could find was organizations that deal with discrimination against gay people or women! I understand those communities have problems too, but what about those that have been in my situation, where can they find advice and help? They can find help in the future, and that only if those minds in charge, realize that the world is going in a new direction, that mobility in this world of today has reached unprecedented new heights, and the only way to make a society work together is to have a clear understanding of the phenomenon and have clear policies against these manifestations. In this ever changing environment, it will always be a source of tension, maybe even conflict, as well as a source of radical speeches for "Hitler Wannabes" to distract attention from other problems. And politicians should not miss out reading Karl Von Clausewitz , not to study war, but how to stay away from conflict within one culture or society, or between different ones.
Coming back to an earlier question, if I want to be integrated, i say... Yes, but not at the expense of my dignity, not at the expense of my identity!  

I am asking you to ask yourselfs

Yes, i am asking you, to ask yourself, how do you feel having just one day left in the land of your old life, knowing that tomorrow you will be in the land of your choice! If you know exactly how you feel, send me an e-mail, or post a comment with your feelings, maybe i will be able the recognize it in me from the rainbow of emotion testing my nerves now. I don't even know if i am happy or sad, and i don't know how to identify the feelings. But what i know is that good things wait for me in either direction.
The mechanics of breaking away are a mystery to me, even though i did it twice, by choice, but i can't help a thought of remorse that crawls in my mind like a chameleon, covering its tracks, disguising itself into what my mind wants to hear and feel in every given moment. This time, as always, feels like breaking away...
Don't mind my useless rant, and don't bother reading if you haven't been walking my shoes, you will understand nothing, these words are resonating only in the hearts of immigrants!
Best of luck, wherever you are, dear reader!
Paul

Playing with my own heart!

Transilvania, here I am!
Back to land that fed me spiritually when I was young... It always is (coming back here) a mixed feeling, a growing happiness mixed with a terrible fear. A fear that many cannot comprehend, and are even mocking me for it, but what they don't know is that, despite the fact that i come from here, and i was happy, here, sometime ago,  this place gave me no chance to raise myself above the ranks. But, enough with this matter for now, i will probably deal with it in a later posting. Today, it's about being home, the home of my memories and childhood, the roots of my transformation from dust to what I am today.
I am sure, everyone feels  connected one way or another to that particular place where we were born, or were we grew. I even noticed that I never stopped calling this place home, even though I don't live here anymore. It could be impregnated in our blood and flesh, encrypted in our brain, from the times we took our first steps, said our first words, and, somehow, these places stay with us for the rest of our lifes.
I arrived in my town early in the morning, when the sun was struggling to penetrate a meeting of fluffy clouds, and the feeling was that I lived this before (If I think of it, all my time spent here felt like I did it all before, so familiar were this places still). the silence in the morning is unique and waking up feels like escaping the jaws of sleep rather than just waking up. The rain recites to me unknown texts, while looking outside my windows gives me the view of a discreetly moving painting

Successful in another country?

   I have no recipe on how to be successful in a foreign country. If i had that, i would be on an yacht, sipping my rum & coke, on a permanent summer vacation. The truth is, I am just an average guy, on a permanent search for self improvement, not necessarily with the goal of getting rich.

   First time away from home was Kuwait. Now, that was an interesting experience! A friend of mine told me that before getting in Kuwait he thought he will get palm trees, sunshine, good food... while in Kuwait, he said he was still waiting for the palm trees. I got confused, the palm trees were there! Then, he said: 'i am still waiting for the real ones!" and he was right: the place was gorgeous, somehow, but fake. And still, i loved it! Being European in Kuwait was fantastic, opened a lot of doors.

   Now, i am in Cyprus. Before landing here, i thought it is a small paradise island. How wrong I was! From the creepy airport (Larnaca was operating the old airport back then, but now that has changed a lot), to shitty services offered, and the general picture of the city... I thought I am making a step back! And there was no way back for me, I didn't wanted to go home with the tail between my legs, and say I was wrong going away. And I stayed. I lived with a friend for 2 weeks, then for another 2 weeks I lived in a decommissioned house, and then i found a job... small one, just to get by, but i could start only a month later... the thought of sleeping on the beach ate away my courage, and in the old, decommissioned house, i couldn't stay anymore, the owner didn't allow me to. At that point, i had about 10 euros in my pocket, and those were given to me by a friend.

Welcome to a different World!

How many of us are away from home?

  I am among those who left the safety of my nest, to start over, and why not, to find adventure. Some did find it (in a good sense), i for one, did not... I dived in a world that i wasn't prepared for, a world that has been cruel to me, that shaped my life in unexpected ways. But it wasn't all wrong! Somehow, i managed to get by, and, yes, be successful, and by that i mean staying alive, and keeping myself sane. 

  I come from a place that many heard of, but never knew how it is, which is a shame. I come from a place cut from a pastoral time, and forcefully brought into this century, where you can still drink spring water, find mushrooms in the forest, and get lost in the immensity of an untouched landscape. I grew up eating cherries and apples from the orchards around my town, and probing the slopes on a plastic bag in the winter (that almost broke my ass and legs a few times, in the same trees that were offering me cherries in the summer). I come from Transilvania! Sounds scary, doesn't it? Well, it isn't! Even now, when i put my foot on that beloved piece of soil, i find, well... Peace. Whenever i go there, i stop, just stop everything for a minute, look around, and breathe in that air that fed me as a child, and i can feel the ground keeping me there, with a magnetic touch... and i become a stone, a part of it again, even if only for a moment. I can feel that piece of land being proud of having me stepping on those old paths, proud of having me back, even for a short time, being happy that I've remembered  where i come from.

How far are we from home?
  Before asking that question, we should ask ourselves, where is home for us, what home means to us. I am home, i live in someone's heart, and it means everything to me! everything else is... well, memory mixed with melancholy.

Paul