My country of choice
Immigrants’ blogs have a common starting point. The thesis is always the same, the words as well, only the amount of talent to combine them is different. Romanian immigrants like to philosophize about “leaving the country”, the mother land that created them and insufflated their path in life. Generally, their writings perspires a big excuse toward those left “there” (in Romania) with whom we don’t have a common language anymore and who are despising us because they don’t understand us – although we speak the same language, we function on a different system in which they don’t exist.
The explanations for emigrants have the same repertoire: “my old country did not deserve me”, “I did not have another choice, I was obligated to leave”. Regardless, big words enter in the scene: “my fathers’ land”, “my mother country” or “the country that you haven’t chose”. Their melancholy makes me wonder: why don’t they just go back, huh, what’s the purpose of their suffering? Then, I remember a quote from a TV series “Oh, I wish I could but… I don’t want to!” In fact, we all function on the principle “ubi bene ibi patria” and we would live any country for a better one: richer, warmer, more organized, where we can give and receive more. And this is what makes us to exit the comfort zone. What keeps you someplace where you are not happy? Love for that place, stupidity, fear of change or pure laziness? I remember our neighbor 20 years ago; she kept complaining to my mom about how unhappy she is in her marriage and how violent is her husband. My mother told her to find another man, and not stick with that sick marriage with the loyalty she promised in a moment of ignorance.
If you are not in a place that