I have been away for so long that I feel guilty to write in this blog again. I feel like it belongs to Zizili now. In my defense I was extremely busy with applications and job searches and getting really unlucky in the lab with my experiments. There are so many things to write about. I started a few posts and never had a chance to finish them and put them here. I will try to finish them all eventually and make up for the long absence.
One of the hardest decisions in my life was to decide to live apart from my family. Growing up I always thought my mom is living too far from her family and I always wondered whether that was a good decision. I remember when Zizili left to study in another city I had extremely hard time to accept it, and that usually meant that I was really mean to her whenever she visited and was about to leave. Now you can imagine how stupid it would have sounded like if someone told me that I would leave my family to go and live in another country and barely be able to visit once a year. But life never turns out the way you want it too.
When I was convincing myself to leave, I knew that I am sacrificing a lot of important things in my life. I knew that I will probably never be able to live with my father again (which turned out to be true). I knew that it would be years, if not forever before I can live with my mom or Zizili and Noonche again and not to forget the rest of the extended family of aunts and uncles and cousins. But I convinced myself that I will always be able to visit, communicate over the phone or the internet. I have to admit after all these years and even though I am relatively happy here, this is the worst part of the immigration process: Not having a family by you.
I make up for this loss by trying to visit often. It was a blessing that back in 2002 I could not go to US and become trapped by visa problems by a few years. I can not imagine how devastating it would have been for me not to be able to visit my dad when he was extremely sick or not to attend Noonche’s wedding. It is true that I am not visiting my family as often as I like, but the chance is always there. If there is an emergency I can be there in a matter of a few days. If I feel sick or lonely I can always manage to find the time to go back. For me nothing is worth loosing that ability. No job opportunity or political belief is worth it. (I was really naïve back when I decided to come to US to study, now that I think back, I appreciate the help of the visa officers that denied my visa) Political beliefs come and go. People change their minds about it. I am by no means the person I was 10 years ago and most probably won’t exactly think the same 10 years from now. But my family will always be my family and I they will always be there for me and supporting me. I can not imagine to do something, anything that endangers my connections and ties with them.
Zizili joon, I know that it may be different for you. After all you are living the life that I couldn’t take. I chose to escape, you chose to stay. So you have every right to try to change it. When we started this blog, we made a pact to just write about our experiences, little that we knew within a year your experiences in life would be so profoundly changed by the political situations around you. I don’t want to be mean or cruel, or indifferent from the lives of people that I care about. I know that I am selfish, but I want to be able to visit you. I want to be able to hug you. I want to be able to be there for you if you need me. I can not imagine how miserable aunt Azar’s daughter was when she couldn’t even visit her sick mother. I can not imagine living her life. I am sorry how hard I am making it for you, but for me no belief is worth it, or will ever be worth it. I don’t want to have to stay away from this room, but I want you and Noonche in it too.
One of the hardest decisions in my life was to decide to live apart from my family. Growing up I always thought my mom is living too far from her family and I always wondered whether that was a good decision. I remember when Zizili left to study in another city I had extremely hard time to accept it, and that usually meant that I was really mean to her whenever she visited and was about to leave. Now you can imagine how stupid it would have sounded like if someone told me that I would leave my family to go and live in another country and barely be able to visit once a year. But life never turns out the way you want it too.
When I was convincing myself to leave, I knew that I am sacrificing a lot of important things in my life. I knew that I will probably never be able to live with my father again (which turned out to be true). I knew that it would be years, if not forever before I can live with my mom or Zizili and Noonche again and not to forget the rest of the extended family of aunts and uncles and cousins. But I convinced myself that I will always be able to visit, communicate over the phone or the internet. I have to admit after all these years and even though I am relatively happy here, this is the worst part of the immigration process: Not having a family by you.
I make up for this loss by trying to visit often. It was a blessing that back in 2002 I could not go to US and become trapped by visa problems by a few years. I can not imagine how devastating it would have been for me not to be able to visit my dad when he was extremely sick or not to attend Noonche’s wedding. It is true that I am not visiting my family as often as I like, but the chance is always there. If there is an emergency I can be there in a matter of a few days. If I feel sick or lonely I can always manage to find the time to go back. For me nothing is worth loosing that ability. No job opportunity or political belief is worth it. (I was really naïve back when I decided to come to US to study, now that I think back, I appreciate the help of the visa officers that denied my visa) Political beliefs come and go. People change their minds about it. I am by no means the person I was 10 years ago and most probably won’t exactly think the same 10 years from now. But my family will always be my family and I they will always be there for me and supporting me. I can not imagine to do something, anything that endangers my connections and ties with them.
Zizili joon, I know that it may be different for you. After all you are living the life that I couldn’t take. I chose to escape, you chose to stay. So you have every right to try to change it. When we started this blog, we made a pact to just write about our experiences, little that we knew within a year your experiences in life would be so profoundly changed by the political situations around you. I don’t want to be mean or cruel, or indifferent from the lives of people that I care about. I know that I am selfish, but I want to be able to visit you. I want to be able to hug you. I want to be able to be there for you if you need me. I can not imagine how miserable aunt Azar’s daughter was when she couldn’t even visit her sick mother. I can not imagine living her life. I am sorry how hard I am making it for you, but for me no belief is worth it, or will ever be worth it. I don’t want to have to stay away from this room, but I want you and Noonche in it too.
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:(
یادمه بچه که بودم بابام یه روز تو اتاق نشیمن سر نهار شروع کرد به گفتن سرنوشتمون از روی کف دست.
اول از مامان خانوم شروع کرد و بعد که رسید به تو گفت که مسافرت های زیادی می کنی و بعدش هم نمی دونم چی دید که حالش گرفته شد و گفت خدا کنه چیزی که من می بینم درست نباشه. :(
نمی دونم یادت هست یا نه ولی از اون روز به بعد بود که من احساس می کردم باید هوات رو داشته باشم و سعی کردم هر وقت می تونم ازت مراقبت کنم.
من هم دوست ندارم که تو رو به خطر بیاندازم و یا باعث بشم که نتونی بیای ایران.
سعی می کنم باز هم بیشتر رعایت کنم ولی باور کن بعضی وقتها اینقدر بار مشکلات و غصه ها زیاد میشه که دیگه از کنترل خارج میشه.
من هیچوقت دوست نداشتم سیاسی باشم ولی همیشه و همیشه مسائل حقوق بشر و در نمونه کوچکتر ظلمی که به آدمها میشه اذیتم کرده و دغدغه زندگیم بود.
اگه قرار بود خودم برای خودم تصمیم بگیرم بدون فکر کردن به دیگران، حتما فعال حقوق بشر می شدم ولی افسوس که تو این کشور حقوق بشر بشدت با مسائل سیاسی گره خورده و من دغدغه خونوادم رو دارم و نمی خوام با دردسر درست کردن برای خودم ، اونها رو ناراحت کنم.
migam ma ke hich vaght nafahmidim ke chi babam did to dastemon, vali inke to hamash movazebe man boodi kheyli ali bood :) koli mano loos kardia, hamishe harvaght ba kasi davam mishod to havamo dashti. yadesh be kheyr ke cheghadr halam gerefte shod vase farzanegan, ya shahrood. halam ke dige kheyli bishtar doorim :( vali khob dashtan ye khahar be in khoobi kheyli khif bide.
migam noonche joon mabada biai invara ke ma yek kami ham az to tarif konima!
ای کاش وقتی تو فرزانگان نیومدی من هم میومدم بیرون. همیشه بخاطر اینکه من اون موقع نیومدم بیرون و با تو یه مدرسه نبودم افسوس می خوردم و می خورم.
شاید بخاطر همین هیچ وقت نتونستم با فرزانگان کنار بیام و همیشه ازش متنفر بودم.
بگذریم. یادته وقتی رفتم شاهرود هر وقت بر میگشتم تو و نونوچه چه خونی به جیگر من می کردید و من همیشه با چشم گریون بر میگشتم.
ما خونوادگی عادت داریم وقتی بخاطر کسی غصه دار هستیم و دلمون براش تنگ میشه، با عصبانیت سر طرف یا بقیه دق دلیمون رو خالی کنیم. این رو از ماان خانوم به ارث بردیم.
مثل من که وقتی پست قبل رو نوشتم جایی که خودم رو دعوا کنم سر تو دق دلی خالی کردم.
بوووووووووووووووووس
این نونوچه که رسما دبخیال وبلاگ شده. می خوای برگردیم بلاگفا. شاید اون هم برگشت :(
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