He handed me tea and said, "I love to talk with people. I want to talk with as many people as I can. I moved here from Baghdad, and I knew that I would need to be able to communicate.”
I understood the need. One of the reasons why I felt comfortable spending time around the mainly Syrian part of Istanbul was while I couldn't fully communicate in Arabic, it was easier to use than my practically nonexistent knowledge of Turkish. Sharing a language adds more flavor to interactions, it brings common ground and a sense of shared identity. Communication through whatever method brings symbols to our notions of our lived experience. We strive for connection, to hope and trust that we understand the expressions and words that have been placed to meaning. However, it is nice to disappear sometimes. To be in the presence of people, but to be silent. To know that humanity is shared, as well as the experience of being alone in it. My dream is to go to the U.S. My brother, he is in San Antonio. Does he like it? He's in jail. Woah, will he get out soon? He's in for 30 years. Three zero? He nodded his head. What did he do? Telling me to hold on a second, he sifted through his phone and explained that this was his half-brother as if he was trying to cover up association. I looked at his arms while his eyes were on the phone. “To be or not to be” was written in cursive on the inner part of his lower left arm. He had “familia” written in big letters across the other. He explained that he could speak German, Arabic, Turkish, English, and Kurdish. Handing his phone to me, he said, “This is him.” “You found him on YouTube?” My voice was flavored with a tint of amusement. I saw a man shown on the news walking as reporters sitting at a desk were talking next to a pictured scene of a man being escorted by police. “Yes, my sister showed me this after not being able to find him.” I struggled to listen to the news over the noises of the violins rising and falling to he was being convicted for selling opium on the dark web and for being a key player in the operation. “But me, I don't like this. I like to come to my work, do my job, and learned languages.” I recognize the tone of embraced new beginnings. Once you have hit a wall so hard or have had a wall knocked down on top of you, once you kiss utter defeat or see someone destroyed by it, life outside of peace and safety becomes an absolute no go zone, mainly because the simple things truly become a haven.
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Jessica -Thank you for visiting! This is my personal blog, where I write about social justice, geography, culture, and my own encounters and reflections from around the world. Categories-
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