ex-patria
People keep asking me why i've decided to go. i can't find an easy answer; somehow i find myself, in just 24 years, so far away from the culture and life-journeys of my coworkers and neighbors that it's almost like trying to explain a religion. who really knows what drives catholics to consume the body & blood of christ, but catholics themselves? same with me: no matter what kind of rational explanations i try to make, there's some kind of faith that i can't communicate.
my first stab at an answer would be explaining how fiercely i have wanted to leave this country. from the first days of the hyperpatriotism after september 11 last year, to bush's recent absolutely ridiculous but somehow quite popular plans for iraq, i can not stomach what has happened to my country. i swear i am not joking if i try to convince you how psychotic the country has become. as a nation we have, in no small doses, all the primary symptoms of schizophrenia:
the desire to get out, i admit, is mostly visceral and probably selfish. it may also be a healthy reaction to being overwhelmed and frustrated, a retreat that will in the end help me return and continue with my still-relevant plans to change this difficult country.
Roque Dalton, a combatant in El Salvador's decades-long civil war, was forced to spend a good part of his 20s in exile. in prague and cuba, he passed time studying and reflecting, and eventually found himself looking back at his small country with unrecognition. I first read this five years ago, but just now it has started to resonate:
but when we visited we did not find a country limping along. we found that strangers talked to us on the streets. women walk alone at night, and when we offered to escort them just to be safe, they looked at us blankly. taxi drivers would strike up conversations about our president and the rudeness of venezuelans. as jeremy wrote, by all reports the country should feel like it is coming unglued, but life there has a spirit far beyond expectations.
back home in the U.S., the stock market plummets and people with investments (who have jobs and can feed their families) walk around like zombies. here the story of the day is not the rising numbers of unemployed families but the declining dow jones.
in argentina the unemployed are blockading streets to force their government to care about them. the middle classes are protesting at banks and calling for new elections, sooner. my country is medicated, tired, and confused. Argentina is vibrant and still fighting back.
I don't know if this makes any sense to anybody but me. I do think somehow i should be able to explain it past the element of faith and disbelief. maybe i would have better luck trying to explain matzah.
my first stab at an answer would be explaining how fiercely i have wanted to leave this country. from the first days of the hyperpatriotism after september 11 last year, to bush's recent absolutely ridiculous but somehow quite popular plans for iraq, i can not stomach what has happened to my country. i swear i am not joking if i try to convince you how psychotic the country has become. as a nation we have, in no small doses, all the primary symptoms of schizophrenia:
Delusions (false beliefs) Hallucinations (perceiving the presence of something not really there) Disorganized speech Irrational or catatonic behavior, such as stupor, rigidity, or floppiness of limbs. Negative symptoms, such as inaction, silence, or loss of will
the desire to get out, i admit, is mostly visceral and probably selfish. it may also be a healthy reaction to being overwhelmed and frustrated, a retreat that will in the end help me return and continue with my still-relevant plans to change this difficult country.
Roque Dalton, a combatant in El Salvador's decades-long civil war, was forced to spend a good part of his 20s in exile. in prague and cuba, he passed time studying and reflecting, and eventually found himself looking back at his small country with unrecognition. I first read this five years ago, but just now it has started to resonate:
O country of mine you do not existmy conversations about my trip always work their way to the next question: why argentina? there are so many caveats: yes their economy has basically collapsed, and yes the crime rate is rising, and yes general discontent is bubbling over. they changed presidents three times betwen december and january. unemployment is now between 20 and 40%. things are not good.
except as a deformed shadow
a word coined by my enemy
...
(What I mean is: my being an expatriate
makes you an ex-patria)
[1962]
but when we visited we did not find a country limping along. we found that strangers talked to us on the streets. women walk alone at night, and when we offered to escort them just to be safe, they looked at us blankly. taxi drivers would strike up conversations about our president and the rudeness of venezuelans. as jeremy wrote, by all reports the country should feel like it is coming unglued, but life there has a spirit far beyond expectations.
back home in the U.S., the stock market plummets and people with investments (who have jobs and can feed their families) walk around like zombies. here the story of the day is not the rising numbers of unemployed families but the declining dow jones.
in argentina the unemployed are blockading streets to force their government to care about them. the middle classes are protesting at banks and calling for new elections, sooner. my country is medicated, tired, and confused. Argentina is vibrant and still fighting back.
I don't know if this makes any sense to anybody but me. I do think somehow i should be able to explain it past the element of faith and disbelief. maybe i would have better luck trying to explain matzah.
previously there was jodido pero contento
afterwards you have 911
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