A refugee story

North Africa in so many ways is far removed from what I call home, yet it is where I and many seek refuge. Our reasons for refuge are diverse, some have been forcibly removed from home, and others are in search of a different experience in life while the rest come with the idea of saving the refugee. I am my own refugee, getting away from the strife of a life I once held dear; the adage “what does not kill you makes you stronger” is well said. Since I became a refugee I am a much more positive person than I have ever been in my entire life. I am much stronger in zeal, purpose and will. That is not to say that indeed I needed the pain, but it is a tribute to what I have been through. If I was asked to change anything in life, I would never change it. I loved, loved deeply and truly and now for that I get to be a better person. What a reward, boy was it worth it or what? I love that I am more confident, the confidence comes from being able to confront the evils in a cherished life unknowingly gave me confidence to face the world in a way that I have never done before. I am learning that being in an unfamiliar territory is tough; but anyway where isn’t? For Samara’s we are harassed, complimented, insulted all in one day. One great help I have had has been having music am familiar with, music I love playing on my MP3 player while I walk the streets. It helps to ignore whatever comments are getting and helps me connect with what is familiar to me. I usually do not care whether someone compliments me on the street or insults me; all I care is that you mind your own business. That said no one here seems to do that, children to grandparents are known to stare and make the most uncouth comments to foreigners. Who teaches manners here? A man can say anything while walking with his female relative or wife; children yell insults while their parents smile. But hey, this is Egypt. So much for my refuge! And in a lot of ways it is the healing process, the realization that everywhere I go and every people or race, whoever is human, sometimes we just do not get it. We are lost in our own mess and forget that there are others involved in life. As I washed dishes, and cleaned house, I realize that I am not fussed by perfectionism anymore, I can help my roommate get her washing out of the machine because she has forgotten without wondering what is wrong with her? I can take life a lot simpler than I have done in the past and I can laugh at anything and go out and have a good time without worrying about being out too late and what effect it’s having on my life. I can dance and sing along without trying to find meaning in everything I do. And for this my life is worth living.