User:Farrah Shakeel/424

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The idea behind this page is to write down some (important/emotional) experiences related to the 424 days that I have spent away from home so far. Whether or not some are useful at all for expanding them into a project, they may be inspirational. Also it's nice to see them again and again (emotional value) :) I feel some of them are quite interlinked, but I still put them separate since they can be individual topics


* Immigrant Identity

This has been one of the most revealing issues that I have encountered, only recently though - the conflict between those living in their own country and those who become immigrants (or born and bred abroad). The understanding of culture, habits, and differences in lifestyle.

The enforced culture of immigrant parents on their born and bred abroad children. How newly migrated people are seen or looked upon(down) as by their own community, and attachment of derogatory terms. The extremity of their nature; too loose or too religious.

The Issue: Rather not work on this topic because of it's sensitivity. I have tried talking to people about it, but they only get angry. Unless you have a solution around it for me.


* Fear of losing my Identity

This was quite a twist in respect to my personality. If I had never come here, I'd have died thinking that I'm a liberal. Turns out I'm not. Every conscious step and effort that I ever made towards being independent, being loud, being "liberal" and "pro-western", has turned into a unconscious alarm bell of being conservative, and holding onto what defines my roots. Though my left and right shoulder guys still argue over many a things.

Scared to join my immigrant community, I also have no choice but to enter it. It's the only way to hold onto my traditions/values/culture and enjoy holidays and celebrations which would be lost otherwise.

The Issue: This is a very interesting topic for me. This entire feeling of insecurity and unsureness.


* Bi-Racial Relationship

The experience of this was probably the most confusing. The perception and judgment by others of me walking with a white man in a third-world/Muslim country like Pakistan vs that of in a first-world/secular country like Holland. Because there is such a strong sense of community amongst immigrants, it's a worse crime to commit the bi-racial deed somewhere abroad instead of in your own community. Have to say, was easier to walk with my fiancé back home than here! Feeling "foreign" in my own community.

The Issue: I'm divided over this. Love/Hate.


* Claustrophobia

Another thing that I almost immediately felt in Holland was the super-small living spaces. Houses are never so tiny in Pakistan (perhaps let's put Lahore's architecture in mind, Karachi is still different). I have never experienced such a lack of space. On top of that, privacy is a big deal in Pakistan, you never open your window facing the road. At least it is covered by a big tall bush, or a high wall, or at least curtains in the worst case. Some religious families even have their houses constructed in a way that the windows don't face the front of the house anyways. And then to live here with huge glass windows with no metal grill or netting in between, made me feel completely naked in complete winter clothes. I was scared that other people might feel that I am always looking at them, although it's completely unintentional since all houses/apartments across the street, behind the house, etc, are exactly the same height, with similar big, glass windows.

The Issue: It's very interesting, but doesn't involve the topic of "human nature" enough.


* Old-Age homes and Individuality

Old-Age homes are my biggest fear attached to this new society I am living in. I have lived in a combined-family-system for fifteen or sixteen years of my life. Not that that is the best thing in the world. But the reality of an Old-Age home is an incomparable, equally bitter one. Meeting new people in our culture means meeting the whole family. You get to know people, and keep them, according to what family they come from! So you don't meet a cell, you meet a clump. And it is tragically sad to just meet cells here; to discover completely bad family relationships. To have forced myself to live a life of individuality, when I come from the most perfect family ever.

The Issue: Would be interesting to work on this, since it's my biggest fear, and almost all my conversations with people roll into this topic.


* Pakistani or Muslim?

Agreed that there is an 80-90 percent illiteracy rate in Pakistan. Not everyone is lucky enough to follow through private education like I did, in respect to those numbers. And the maximum amount of immigrants are mostly from smaller cities and towns, even villages. They live a completely different lifestyle . I don't know if I should be mad at my English-obsessed education system, but I am not terribly used to saying terms like "Assalam u alaikum" (Islamic hello), "Alhamdullilah" (common Arabic word for saying "by the grace of God"), MashAllah (Arabic term said when you see something nice, or hear something good). Especially not to people my own age-group. They hate me here for saying "Hello". For arguing that they are preserving their Islamic Identity rather than a Pakistani one, as Pakistan was built with the thought of having a secular state, not an Islamic one! For arguing that they are not Pakistani.

The Issue: My absolute point of annoyance.


* 3rd-world life in a 1st-world

If you have some money, you're a king in the 3rd-world. What a wake-up call it was to come from a lifestyle of maids and servants to fall into THIS! Whoever said life is easier here!


* Holland's Horrible Customer Service

I always tell this funny story of what happened if my mother ever needed a mechanic/plumber. When summer came, and the house air-conditioners needed servicing, my mother called up the mechanic to be there the same day at 2 PM, and very conveniently asked him to bring along some coriander, tomatoes and green chillies on his way. And the mechanic did! This is not normal, but possible! It still makes me laugh every time I think of how the mechanic from ENECO gave us a 2 weeks later date to come and turn one switch up that was suppose to give us electricity and heating, shut behind privately owned key locks, and charged almost a 100 Euros for his 2 minutes visit!


* My Pakistani Driver's License

When it was my time to get a driver's license, I was lucky. A friend of my father was friends with the then current head of the Traffic Police. All I had to do was to go with my father and sit in a private, air-conditioned room for an hour, and then sign the license when it was made. The head then asked me, "What's the average driving speed in the city?", and I answered, "Whatever I can handle!" ... I am sure he still curses himself.


* The underground alcohol network of Pakistan

Alcohol is not allowed in Islam, but it doesn't stop Muslims from drinking it. Pakistan is perhaps more strict about it than Turkey, but still has a huge underground alcohol network. Muslims are not allowed to own a license to serve alcohol, unless a 5-star hotel. Only Christians allowed to have one, who then basically provide it to these 5-star hotels. But it is quite obviously and openly still distributed among the elites and private parties. Being young and experimenting, it was good to have via/via connections. A mysterious man would come in the street behind the house with a bag with something wrapped in multiple layers of newspaper in it. The cheapest beer was from a factory in Rawalpindi, Pakistan. It was fun to have it like that. Even the cheap beer tasted good. Even the best beer tastes horrible here (in Netherlands) now.


* Pakistani commercialism and the Designer market

Pakistan may be a 3rd-world country, but it's metropolitan cities can be as expensive as of any 1st world country. "Designers" is a budding field of work, especially in fashion. I never understood why things are so expensive and who they are catering to. I understand now. Their market is the migrated folk.


* This might sound weird/stupid

I am writing this for the pure sake of perhaps ... may be ... mayyyyy beeeeee ... there is someone who has also experienced this feeling. I've had it since as long as I can remember.

When I am sitting alone, and my head is empty of all thoughts possible, and just I concentrate on what I am looking at; for e.g. the passing traffic, I get a very strong feeling about the validity of what I see. I see what I see. If I reach out to it, I can touch and feel it. If it has a smell, I will be able to smell it. But is it REALLY there? Or is it just my relationship to that object, within this world, that allows me to experience these senses associated with any given object?