The Philosopher seems to be settling in well with The Mother. Can it actually be that this is for real? I am still waiting to meet her, but it seems she is also wanting to meet The Англичанкие who are an important part of her daughter's life. Although anglichanki literally means women from England, our orphans have co-opted this word as their way of trying to put us, expat and Kazakhstani volunteers alike, in a category.
Sometime last week at the orphanage the kids all greeted us with excitement:
"Yesterday more anglichanki came, different ones! But they know you!"
And then, in the innocent way that children can be unconsciously painfully truthful, they added
"They speak much better Russian and Kazakh than you!"
Turns out they were not anglichanki at all, but students from the local university. To the kids however, it seems this isn't a word describing nationality, but a unique and otherwise indescribable "role" we, and now others following in our footsteps, play in their lives. They have no other word for us. Who are we after all? We're not houseparents, we're not teachers, we're not inspectors, we're not even 'sponsors' who come in an endless stream at holiday times trading candy and icecream and sometimes a dead sheep for a half-hour concert of song and dance and perhaps some brownie points for the next life.
We're adults, but we don't behave like other adults they know - we sit on the ground with them, we laugh with them, we talk with them; the key words being "with them". We're a foreign concept.
There is another word, the usual word for a foreigner, иностранка (ino-STRAN-ka), that is usually used when people want to point out my foreignness, my'other-ness'. But as noted before (Bruised butts...), to my ears that word often carries with it negative connotations. Anglichanki, on the other hand, is a label with a much more pleasing ring.
Tuesday 27 March 2012
Sunday 11 March 2012
Lost and found?
The Philosopher (see The metamorphosis of houseflies and hedgehogs) found her mother!
On Wednesday she decided to type her mother's name in AGENT, the popular social networking site Russian speakers use. She found a woman under that name and wrote her a message:
"Do you know a man named {insert her father's name here}?"
Within a couple of hours she had an answer.
"Why? Are you my daughter?"
On Thursday they met in the food court of the mall. The mother cried. The Philosopher didn't, but asked the 42-year old woman why she was crying. The mother gave her 10 000 tenge (almost half a month's salary for The Philosopher) and bought her some shiny bits of plastic jewellery.
On Friday they met again. The mother asked The Philosopher to move in with her. The Philosopher said she'd think about it.
On Saturday I got a phone call. "I'm at my mother's house. I'm moving in - tomorrow."
And just like that, 20 years of painful agonizing, perhaps on both sides of the relationship, entered remission!? I'm still overwhelmed and amazed when I think of it. But, while this may have the ingredients of a good fairy tale, I cannot just finish with the words: "and they lived happily ever after". More than being a realist, I am also sceptical. Concerned.
I first heard about it all after their first meeting on Thursday. As is usual when one of our girls has something to tell us, the story came out in bits and pieces and in no particular order. I'm sure there is some sort of structure to they way they retell events, but linear chronology is not the framework they use! As such, here are snippets of what she had to say, in no particular order.
"I have her eyes, but she says in everything else I look like my father."
"I'm родная!" (pronounced: rod-NAI-ya)
"She asked me to live with her, but I don't know. Of course, it would mean I could save on rent."
"I'm родная!"
"She said the doctors told her I was dead."
"I haven't said anything to my hozaika (the woman she has boarded with for over a year and who has taken her under her wing). She will only moan that I will leave her, and I'm not ready to decide that or argue with her."
"I'm родная!"
"She has her own 2-room flat - maybe she will transfer it to my name!"
"She asked if I was 'offended/hurt' by what she did...I said, no"
"She said her father was strict and she wasn't married, so she couldn't keep me."
"I'm родная!"
"I can't call her mama, that's just,.... I can't."
"I'm родная!"
"She said she was young and unable to care for me. She looked for me later, but couldn't find me."
As you can see, most significant to her is this notion of being "родная". The word literally means relative, and is commonly used in the plural to refer to one's relatives. I don't think it's usual to use the word in the way she used it, but then again, her situation isn't exactly usual! In this case she is referring to a deep longing that apparently has finally been filled - a longing for (biological?) attachment, for connection, for roots. "I belong!" In an earlier post I wrote about little G asking if she would still be detdomskii if she found her mother (see Will I still be an orphan if...?). Now I think I understand a little more what she was asking. In their world, rodnaya and detdomskii are opposites!
For me, the most significant part is the apparent contradictions in all the stories her mother told her about the circumstances of her birth and subsequent 'abandonment', and the speed with which everything else unrolled! Who is this woman? Is she really her mother, or some clever scammer taking advantage of an orphan's desperate need to belong? Even if she is her biological mother, what kind of woman is she? Will she take advantage of her offspring's desperate need to belong? Even if she has good intentions, will she be able to act in her daughter's best interest or will the guilt and her desire to make up for what happened 20 years ago unintentionally clip The Philosopher's newly fledged wings?
Regardless - the emotional upheaval for both of them must be great! Please God - as they establish their "rodnaiyedness", may they find healing from past hurts, mutual support in present circumstances, and freedom for future growth!
On Wednesday she decided to type her mother's name in AGENT, the popular social networking site Russian speakers use. She found a woman under that name and wrote her a message:
"Do you know a man named {insert her father's name here}?"
Within a couple of hours she had an answer.
"Why? Are you my daughter?"
On Thursday they met in the food court of the mall. The mother cried. The Philosopher didn't, but asked the 42-year old woman why she was crying. The mother gave her 10 000 tenge (almost half a month's salary for The Philosopher) and bought her some shiny bits of plastic jewellery.
On Friday they met again. The mother asked The Philosopher to move in with her. The Philosopher said she'd think about it.
On Saturday I got a phone call. "I'm at my mother's house. I'm moving in - tomorrow."
And just like that, 20 years of painful agonizing, perhaps on both sides of the relationship, entered remission!? I'm still overwhelmed and amazed when I think of it. But, while this may have the ingredients of a good fairy tale, I cannot just finish with the words: "and they lived happily ever after". More than being a realist, I am also sceptical. Concerned.
I first heard about it all after their first meeting on Thursday. As is usual when one of our girls has something to tell us, the story came out in bits and pieces and in no particular order. I'm sure there is some sort of structure to they way they retell events, but linear chronology is not the framework they use! As such, here are snippets of what she had to say, in no particular order.
"I have her eyes, but she says in everything else I look like my father."
"I'm родная!" (pronounced: rod-NAI-ya)
"She asked me to live with her, but I don't know. Of course, it would mean I could save on rent."
"I'm родная!"
"She said the doctors told her I was dead."
"I haven't said anything to my hozaika (the woman she has boarded with for over a year and who has taken her under her wing). She will only moan that I will leave her, and I'm not ready to decide that or argue with her."
"I'm родная!"
"She has her own 2-room flat - maybe she will transfer it to my name!"
"She asked if I was 'offended/hurt' by what she did...I said, no"
"She said her father was strict and she wasn't married, so she couldn't keep me."
"I'm родная!"
"I can't call her mama, that's just,.... I can't."
"I'm родная!"
"She said she was young and unable to care for me. She looked for me later, but couldn't find me."
As you can see, most significant to her is this notion of being "родная". The word literally means relative, and is commonly used in the plural to refer to one's relatives. I don't think it's usual to use the word in the way she used it, but then again, her situation isn't exactly usual! In this case she is referring to a deep longing that apparently has finally been filled - a longing for (biological?) attachment, for connection, for roots. "I belong!" In an earlier post I wrote about little G asking if she would still be detdomskii if she found her mother (see Will I still be an orphan if...?). Now I think I understand a little more what she was asking. In their world, rodnaya and detdomskii are opposites!
For me, the most significant part is the apparent contradictions in all the stories her mother told her about the circumstances of her birth and subsequent 'abandonment', and the speed with which everything else unrolled! Who is this woman? Is she really her mother, or some clever scammer taking advantage of an orphan's desperate need to belong? Even if she is her biological mother, what kind of woman is she? Will she take advantage of her offspring's desperate need to belong? Even if she has good intentions, will she be able to act in her daughter's best interest or will the guilt and her desire to make up for what happened 20 years ago unintentionally clip The Philosopher's newly fledged wings?
Regardless - the emotional upheaval for both of them must be great! Please God - as they establish their "rodnaiyedness", may they find healing from past hurts, mutual support in present circumstances, and freedom for future growth!
Monday 5 March 2012
Doublethink - unreally real!
Doublethink - "to hold simultaneously two opinions which cancelled out, knowing them to be contradictory and believing in both of them..." (George Orwell, Nineteen Eighty Four)
These past couple of weeks I have had a good dose of doublethink! First there was the sudden appearance of the "officious commandant" at one of the institutions I go to sporadically to visit an adult orphan who has been deemed incapable of independent living.
"Who have you come as?" she demanded. "Only relatives can visit".
When I pointed out that, being an orphan, my friend didn't have any relatives to visit her, her answer was:
"I know she's an orphan, that's why she's here. Only relatives can visit!"
Then there was the cafe my friend and I stopped in to the other day after a huge craving for a hamburger. The hamburger was, as I expected, NOT satisfying, but it was probably all worth it for my next installment of doublethink. We seated ourselves and then noticed that all around us people were smoking and there were ash trays on every table as far as the eye could see. Calling the waiter over we asked where the non-smoking section was.
"There is no non-smoking section" she explained.
We thought that a bit much, especially given that according to the law, smoking is not even allowed in cafes and restaurants.
"So what about that sign?" we asked, pointing at the large NO SMOKING ALLOWED signs posted at regular intervals along the walls.
"No smoking allowed. That's the law. That's why we don't have a special non-smoking section".
{shrug}
I guess all cafes are smoke free, its just that some are more smoke-free than others!
These past couple of weeks I have had a good dose of doublethink! First there was the sudden appearance of the "officious commandant" at one of the institutions I go to sporadically to visit an adult orphan who has been deemed incapable of independent living.
"Who have you come as?" she demanded. "Only relatives can visit".
When I pointed out that, being an orphan, my friend didn't have any relatives to visit her, her answer was:
"I know she's an orphan, that's why she's here. Only relatives can visit!"
Then there was the cafe my friend and I stopped in to the other day after a huge craving for a hamburger. The hamburger was, as I expected, NOT satisfying, but it was probably all worth it for my next installment of doublethink. We seated ourselves and then noticed that all around us people were smoking and there were ash trays on every table as far as the eye could see. Calling the waiter over we asked where the non-smoking section was.
"There is no non-smoking section" she explained.
We thought that a bit much, especially given that according to the law, smoking is not even allowed in cafes and restaurants.
"So what about that sign?" we asked, pointing at the large NO SMOKING ALLOWED signs posted at regular intervals along the walls.
"No smoking allowed. That's the law. That's why we don't have a special non-smoking section".
{shrug}
I guess all cafes are smoke free, its just that some are more smoke-free than others!
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