23 May 2011

The Bangladeshi guy moving to Europe

The first time I heard of opportunities in Sweden from immigrants was during my Bangladesh trip in December 2008. Something that never caught my attention before, a big flyer floating in the air of some university street saying Sweden is offering student visas to Bangladeshis of all ages. I was living in the U.S. at the time and the only thing that I ever heard was people really wanting to come to the states and settle.

When I got engaged I obviously knew a lot more about Sweden, but mainly that this was one of the richest countries of Europe especially during the time of the world's economic decay.

I've heard and seen many immigrant stories in America, but now it's time to share one that I am seeing (in process hopefully) living in Europe.

I want to share a little story about this young man who came from Bangladesh to settle in Sweden. He actually stayed at our place for a couple of days... nearly 3, but boy was he a character! This outgoing energetic guy opened up within the next 2 days of his stay and used to constantly make me and my mother-in-law laugh with his bangladeshi daughter-in-law/mother-in-law jokes. The kid was a motormouth.

This 21-year-old left his family giving them the hope of sending them money from the big cash he will earn abroad, working. At a young age, he felt that he was responsible to get his sister married, send money to educate his other siblings, give his parents support, buy some land in Bangladesh, make his own house, work his butt off in Europe, find a decent girl to start a family with, have kids, and so on. "The Bangladeshi Dream", which most bengalis picture abroad.

He was apparently a distant relative to my husband's cousin's husband. If that makes any sense. I'm telling you, you will be surprised who you are related to if you are a Bengali! Everybody is somehow related!

So that's how this young man got our address. We let him stay for a couple of days, because we felt awfully guilty to say no. Because we really suck at saying no. To see that a young boy from our motherland can not find a place to sleep while he searches for admission to a university with his student visa. But mainly because some families know exactly how it feels to move to a new country all by yourself and try making a new life from scratch. Having absolutely nobody to guide you not to mention the limited abililites, time, and resources you have. It becomes a lonely depressing place with lots and lots of sacrifice.

He came to Sweden in March i think. February or March. Which means it was freezing cold with damn ice all over the streets. I have absolutely NO idea how he dragged himself up that big slippery icey hill of death with his extra heavy bright red luggage all by himself. The luggage looked bigger than him. Considering he came from Bangladesh, I can just imagine how awfully cold he felt. He would always shiver. Like even inside the house, when the heater was on with all the candles lit up. He never ever took off his jacket. Not even when he slept. During the day, he hardly sat around the house. He got himself a Tunnelbana map and knew his way around the city, talked to a few people with the mixture of his bangla and english whether they understood it or not, even made a friend or 2, and learned some words in swedish. He said he even got some chick's number (I highly doubt that). All within a day. He really wanted to stay.

The first day he was so fascinated to have learned how to do dishes for the very first time. He never did his own dishes back home, they had a maid. So he requested to take both my plate and my mother-in-law's plate to show us what my father-in-law taught him. The results were 2 shiny squeaky clean plates, which took him about a lifetime to clean. At least he got potential.

This kid gave me a lot of advice. I wonder how he knew so much. I think he was way too mature for his age, in ways. But his advice about running a family was quite inciteful. I guess since he came from the same town as my in-laws, he was more familiar with the expectations that I was never aware of before. Out of all the that, the main point was, that I, as the oldest daughter-in-law, first wife in the family, first sister-in-law, and so on, should be extra careful about making big decisions. Because that decision depends on the entire family. Well thanks a lot kid. That's comforting.

Unfortunately there was a change of plans, and he was no longer going to stay in Sweden. Seemed like his destiny was somewhere else. In Belgium! He found a family there who were inviting him willingly. That family even had a daughter, not to mention a citizen. He kept telling us "I have to make my own money before I get married" like the most responsible man in the world, "citizen or not, marriage isn't for me right now."

I have no idea what happened to the student visa thing in Sweden. Don't remember, never really paid much attention.

I've noticed at times he gave me the "look". The look that a little boy gives when he wants to ask something about you. Don't know what it was though.

When I took the car keys out the night he was leaving for Belgium, he asked with a face of awe "That's impossible, you don't have to do anything. I will feel ashamed bhabi. You've done a lot." Didn't really do much for him actually. My in-laws did a lot though. I think it was his first time seeing a girl drive a car late night to drop someone off. Hey, I would feel bad to see my father-in-law walk late at night in the icey street knowing that we have a car sitting in the garage. That day, my in-laws were obligated to offer one of our old winter jackets to him so he won't shiver to death while going to belgium. We gave him bangladeshi food on his plate for a couple days, and a place to sleep. In return, he gave us a humor-filled house for 2 days, and some home-made Bangladeshi snacks (pita) that his mom made for him for his long journey. Those things were harder than rock by the way. It was sweet of him though. The last thing left to do was wish him goodluck with his life and drop him off safely to the airport, which my father-in-law had done. The least i had done was to take the car and drop them off at the station to resist the ice.

That night he suddenly said in bangla, "got to admit, the toughest life to live is abroad. You are away from family and loved ones, you have to do everything yourself, nobody is there to look after you, hell, Bangladesh is best afterall." He looked at me for a second and added on, "I'm sure you know exactly what I'm talking about."

17 May 2011

Don't Hate on American Girls

Why do some people automatically assume that American girls are tramps?  Just because they heard a couple of distracting stories doesn't mean that's all that goes on with girls over there.  I've heard the same stories in other areas of this world so why put more emphasis on a girl from the US?  Seriously, everybody be hating on us.  We get it so bad..worse than European girls.  I just don't understand why it has always been that way. 

When my husband told my father-in-law about me for the first time, everything was ok, until some old friend of his warned him about American girls, telling him they're "danger".  Off went his sleep at night and i guess from that day on he had an image of me being some uncivilized airhead who would lead his son astray..until he finally got to know the real me.

From the time i turned 20 I've heard some guys saying that they will eventually go marry a girl from Bangladesh because the ones down here are not up to their family's standards.  So they mess around and go out with one or 2, even 3 nice american girls and eventually break their hearts, dump them make them realize how pathetic they really are and settle down with a "real desi girl" from the desh.  It's funny how even after all this, it's only the american girl that gets blamed for everything that happens.

Years back, a couple of bengalis once told me I lacked values.  Family values.  I was told that only because i was raised in the US.  They assumed that since I've been living there for so long, I know absolutely nothing about culture. That I was too "Americanized".Time to time that small, trivial little opinion of those people still gets to me.  Because those people also lived in America, not to mention they were my age.  I thought people of our generation would at least broaden their horizen a bit, and consider that this world is not just black and white.

Theres a minority that tends to generalize America, but isn't that how the world works?  It's always the bad guys that get more attention.  Just like how it is thought that Islam is not a religion of peace, but all about suicide bombing, or all blacks are criminals, that all white people in the world are racists and alcoholics. 

All American girls are not tramps. 




16 May 2011

I'm Back!

I'm back and ready to blog again!  It feels like a huge block of solid iron just got taken off my back.  I am at the edge of completing Swedish.  I've finished SFI, SAS grund, and now I am ready to get SAS A and B out of the way.  Then the entire process of learning the language will be complete!  I just can't wait! I don't know how much longer I can hold my patience but all I know is Allah has given me more than enough. 

I had my final exam last week for my 2nd to last course of the year.  At first it was a horrific experience.  It was an oral examination, something I really suck at even in english.  On top of that, it was with someone I have never seen before.  This teacher was my web teacher, who was apperently in Malmö, the teacher that graded all of my assignments for the term. So she pretty much knew how I sounded, wrote, thought, and so on but I hadn't the slightest clue about her.  So if i was sitting in an isolated test room in Stockholm waiting for her, how was she to examin me if she lived about 700 kilometers away from me.  Little did I know that the entire test would take place through a web cam. 

I don't do webcams.  I never had one, never wanted one, not exactly sure why, but I just never really found it neccessary.  Needless to say that the last person i would want to communicate through webcam is a stranger evaluating me in a different language.  Yes, i was a nervous wreck, and i looked pathetic on webcam, but i somehow mangaged to pass the neverending exam with a pleasantly high score by telling her about my life story and as much as I knew about IKEA!

Thank God it's all over!  Now I can relax!
Now I can blog! Yay!

01 May 2011

To My Baby Sis...

Though she is not a baby anymore...and she's almost old enough to live by herself, she will always remain the doll i first saw my aunt holding back in 1994 when i landed in Zia International Airport in Dhaka.  I'm the only child, but it sure didn't feel that way whenever i visited my lovely cousins in Bangladesh.  Especially this little one, everybody's darling sweetypie, our Mila.

She's extra special to me.  There are many reasons behind it, but most can't be explained.  It's just a strong connection we have despite living seas away from eachother. 

When my parents took me to Bangladesh for the first time after moving to the U.S., I was around 9.  When i was barely 3, i obviously didn't remember a single thing about Bangladesh.  So here I was, 9-year-old Munni, setting foot in Dhaka's airport, seeing and feeling the atmosphere of my home country for the first time.  I still remember how humid it was on November, and how i saw my Nani's (grandma's) and Khalamunis' (aunts') red teary faces of joy struggling to reach us among the crowd of other bangali families in the airport.  It was the first time in probably 6 or 7 years that they had seen me and my parents.  It was my first time seeing the people that cared about me the most.   Seeing them is one of the happiest memories of my life.  I would do anything to relive that moment again and again.  ANYTHING.  I saw my mom's parents and sisters with their new families, new kids....one of my aunt was expecting, and my youngest aunt hadn't even married.   So long ago, yet it seems like yesterday.  I saw Mila for the first time.  She was this little angel in her mother's arms.  Seriously, the most beautiful baby I had ever seen MashAllah. 

She was the first baby in the family after a very long time, so we all spoiled her a great deal.  It was all about her.  That baby loved the attention!  Except when we all squeezed her soft chubby cheeks and made the poor girl's face all red!  People made her happy, and she would get all fascinated whenever her father and mother took her out for long peaceful drives in the evening.  She loved the dhaka lights..her eyes wouldn't stop twinkling until she slowly fell asleep just like an angel.  The best part would be her laugh.  It was the most contagious laugh!  Even when I had to leave Bangladesh, which was so heartbreaking, I would see pictures of her laughing and end up laughing in tears myself.  She had the classic laugh that could even make it's way out from a still picture.  I really really missed her!

Then came 1997, our next Bangladesh trip.  She got a little older.  Now we would listen to her talk.  Going on and on and on and never stopping.  It was the age when kids wanted to know about the whole world and make you go nuts with their endless list of questions.  This girl talked proper bangla.  More proper than a bangali lawyer and she sounded like the cutest thing ever.  We were all soooo jealous of her for that!  I remember one time during the vacation, I was doing my summer-reading project for my upcoming 6th grade english class over the summer, and this little girl somehow found my project and started cuttingit to pieces with a pair of scissors she found from god knows where.  She thought she made the prettiest thing, but boy was I angry when i found out it was my project she was shredding!  It was one of the first time i made her cry from yelling at her so loud.  I hardly threw fits at people in bangladesh, because i knew i would regret it later when i would leave them.  And I felt like a bitch after hurting her feelings. 

But after that day, Mila never ever messed with any of my things again.  She never dared to make me upset, or annoy me.  Mila would give hugs and kisses all day long, as if she never needed a thing in this world at all.  A giver.  She had that "I would heal the world for you" attitude.  Can't say had.  She still has that quality in her.  In fact, she is the most mature young lady I have ever met.  One of the youngest in the family who understands just about everything.  So modest, so beautiful, so amazing.

The more i visited her, the more i would end up missing her.  I hated leaving her, and i hated seeing those tears coming out of her eyes whenever i said goodbye.  I hated the time when she was hardly a teenager and the doctor found a tumor in her stomach.  I thank Allah every day till this day that she got treated and she is healthy Allhumdullilah! 
Sometimes i wonder how can an only daughter of the family have no sign of selfishness.  How can she have such a big heart. 

Every time I went to Bangladesh, I would get chronically ill, and this baby sis of mine would take care of me like a mother would to her daughter. 

I feel like the bad girl when i see what a saint she is.  I want you to stay this way Mila.  This isn't just coming from your Munni Apu, but from your entire family. From all the people that love you.  Your family and friends.  Never ever change.  You are becoming older and smarter.  You have the intelligence, the beauty, the purity, simplicity, all the significant things a person struggles to have. 

You are the definition of beauty.  I pray that you always stay this beautiful forever.  We are so proud of you Mila.

This day is only yours!

Happy Birthday my baby sis!