2nd blog

My village life
“Don’t you ever do that again; Allah will punish you!” an expression with
which I was raised my entire childhood. Muslims, like my parents, fear god so
much. You cannot discuss a controversial topic with most of them. I was a little
infant back then, and within me, I carried many unanswered questions. All I
wanted was answers – not judgments. My family was small; we were four members
– now we are three after my mother’s death. There was no one to talk to. I had
lived in remote and small village; so small, that everyone knows everyone there. I
had many struggles with the people there. However, I managed to get through,
and that is why I am here typing this.
The village was so nice, calm and lovely. We had had a simple life there, and
it had been quite enjoyable. There had been no bars, no hotels, driving schools. In
fact, because that village was so condensed, I am able to describe it entirely. At the
entrance of the village, there had been a dense forest with numbered luxurious
villas of people who made their fortune by selling tobacco and similar goods; at this
point, you have only forests as far as the eye can see. As you approach, you would
find a small car-repairing garage. It was so filthy, stained with blackness and full
of oil odor. There had been an internet café, which had closed before I quit the
village. Heading towards the center, you find the only mosque surrounded by
merchants who sell their vegetable and fruit products. They knew it was a good
spot to showcase their goods. If we would take the road on the left, we would be
going to the only elementary school in the village; the school looked like an
abandoned and haunted house; all of its windows were broken, the doors were
missing the locks and there had been no proper equipment for teaching. We had
numbered hairdressers, places to buy groceries from and no parks or public places
for entertainment. The biggest area of this village was used as a weekly souk;
people from all neighboring villages would gather there every Monday to buy and
sell stuff. For us, children, this day was like a holiday; it was the only day of the
week, which we could have fun in. We would consider it good luck if we have the
afternoon off. This was our village, and this how it worked, and we definitely
enjoyed it.
My father had some serious issues during 2004, which forced our family to
move out and start over. Because we were so young, we did not feel the transition
from living in a thriving city to living in a dismal village. We had not seen much of
the city that time, though. We started all over in that village. We made some
acquaintances quickly, some of which worked with my father. However, we were
still looked at as strangers, foreigners and outsiders. It would take us years to fit
in, and that was exactly what happened.
I had to start school and my mother and father dragged me there one
morning. I was nervous and did not know what was going on. All I could remember
is a woman holding my hand and walking me to a classroom – she was my teacher.
I can still remember that day very clearly. I was sitting quietly on my chair. I was
staring at all students in that classroom and I thought that I would never be able
to get to know any of them. We had two classes: one in the morning and the other
in the afternoon. I had spent an entire week without getting to know anyone.
However, I knew I had been noticed by others. Of course, I was known as the new
student coming from the city, but mostly I am an Arab. I had to keep my distance
because there was no telling what these students might do. I stood up against a
white wall near the classroom, and that is how I spent all my breaks. Teachers had
noticed I was a bit shy and unsociable and tried to help me blend in with the others,
however, I could not. There had been two barriers between this new world and me:
language and culture.
Now that I think about it, it sounded like I had been one of the early Homo
sapiens who had just been developing the language. I was not able to understand
their language, but they were able to understand mine partially. However, that
had given them the advantage over me; they could have been devising some
schemes to tease me back then while I had no idea at all. All I had back then was
my gentle and nice attitudes, which they had never seen in that place.
On a rainy day, I was in an afternoon class. My feet were cold, my hands
were frozen that I was not able to hold the pen still, and my eyes were examining
the classroom as if I am an outsider. I noticed a girl waving to me. She was
beautiful. She wrote down something on a piece of paper and sent it over to me. It
was as if we were corresponding like old times. That was how I got to know my
first friend there. She knew that I would struggle a lot because of the language;
she started teaching me the language. Before we knew it, we had become best
friends – and we are still up to now.
I learned many things from that experience, and most importantly do not
ever back off from showing yourself. Holding yourself back will only result in your
misery. Sometimes, golden opportunities might be under your noses, yet we are
keeping them away by our own attitudes and behaviors. It is high time you start
taking action. And no matter what the consequences are, just keep on trying until
you reach your goal.
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