Since I am not very good at my mother tongue anymore, I am writing in English. It has been a long time I read a book in Turkish, almost 3 months and I forgot very easily (which means that I am not as good as I want to be in Turkish writing and literature anymore.) Not that I am self-confident in English.
Let's see. I got my permesso di soggiorno (residence permit) after three months. Actually things evolved really fast because some people have not even given their fingerprints in the questura. What does questura mean?
questura /kwesˈtura/ f. = offices responsible for police force, public order and relative administrative services.
I could not recognize myself in the police office where you receive your residence permit card. Basically we went there at 9.30 which was late, as we all had appointments for that day. Only saturdays they are working now which is making things more complicated. We got in the queue. Actually there were no queues. There were different lines of people from each part, and they were really close to each other. The machine which gives the numbers for getting into the "fila" (in Italiano, it means the queue) was broken, and since it is such a small place, with the hot weather outside people were sweating but waiting for this card which is very much important in their lives, which is crucial for them to travel freely from one European state to the other and from Europe to back to their country (at least for 1 year) without any problems.
Because we did not get into the proper queue and because there was one Albanian girl in front of us and because she could get her residence permit card earlier than us we thought that we could have done the same. However, the other Albanians in the queue resisted, they said that we were not in the queue. Even one was pushing me with his arm and I was so annoyed that I started to shout "don't push" he was still pushing me, I said once more "don't push". I was really angry. Does it happen to you too, that when you have to deal with bureaucracy you feel very small, you feel like an insect like the one in Kafka? Like Gregor Samsa exactly? I felt like that and I felt over-aggressive so much so that I said "Be a human, donot push". My friend Mine was shocked, she had never seen me like this. We tried to get into the queue. She said to the Albanian behind the guy who was pushing me "You gave the permission to her because she is Albanian." and she said nothing else. She is not an unbalanced person like me, she is maturer and calmer. She was saying "let's go and come later". I said that since we had waited for more than 1 hour we would not go anywhere without taking our residence permit. Then we talked to the Albanian guy behind, he said in Italian that he understood that we were Turks, from the way we spoke. Well, that is the revenge of the Balkans from the former empire? Or is it the general Turkish aggressive attitude when s/he is not treated in a nice way? Maybe both, maybe neither. Maybe it was just the hot weather and the stress. But it ruined my day for sure. I hated the migrant in front of me who was smelling very bad, because he did not "roll it on". I hated myself that I was not beautiful and blonde enough for guys who could have given me the space to go to the front... I hated from my glasses which hided my eyes and gave me the appearance of a person who is not sympathetic at all, a person who lives only in her aquarium made of glass and does not want to know people.
I told myself as I got into the queue after one Albanian guy and the second Albanian guy with his wife. Actually between the wife and the husband without knowing that they were married. The woman was standing very close to me so much so that if it was a man you would have been disturbed by this attitude and when I understood that they were husband and wife I said, "I did not know it sorry, would you like to pass here?" She said yes and I was behind them. Then there was the Srilankan guy who was a very nice guy, with his nephew near us. They took their cards and the Gorrillaz-tall-large Srilankan guy near me (who always frowned), did not give me the turn so he took his card, too. But before all that there was a Tunisian or Moroccan guy who came with his very young, purple headscarved wife and who said something to get into the queue before us and he was successful, others let him, too. I was at the moment of hating all the religions, too, especially my own. Not only that I hated all the migrants who did not act nicely there, I hated the Muslims and non-Muslims, I hated the questura officers, I hated the Italian state, I hated myself, I hated the system, hated the Schengen agreements, I hated the Europeans and I hated the rest and the west. I hated the world in general.
When the time came to us, the police officer asked my previous permesso di soggiorno, I said that I gave the renunciation that I lost it. (I had given it before 2 times). When I was giving her the copy of the "denuncia" I said to Mine and Omar (he is my Columbian friend) that I had given it three times. She understood and said something in Italian that I did not understand. Then everything was fine, I asked her "how nice her glasses were (purple framed glasses) and where she bought them from". She laughed sarcastically not even answering. So I went and I hated the residence permit card at the time. Because I said something that was supposed to be nice, at a wrong time, at a wrong place at a wrong person...
I hated being a migrant, I was ashamed of studying migration and thinking of these things.
I am really envious of the professors (European and American) who do not have to go through this processes. They write and read and think and understand. But they are there and we are here. And despite our bloody history (I wonder who has not got?), our mistakes, massacres, our provocative aspects in religion, I feel that I would be born as a Turk and not regret it, even if I am ashamed of being sometimes. Because I know that being European is something quite different from being a Turk. There is a huge gap, there is a huge similarity. There are borders, huge. There are no borders in fact. I just wonder how much I can live with this dialectic anymore as I am a person who has been raised in a modern family. My mother was a doctor and my father was a very well-educated man, who has always advised me to travel, meet, know and understand cultures, peoples, countries without any prejudices. Yes, dad, maybe at your time, world was better, even though it was not so globalized. The more the people got to know each other, the less they liked each other.
I am sorry for Europe, I am sorry for Turkey, I am sorry for the migrants including myself. It could have been easier to be a human, "essere umano" if our nerves were not racked by the visa requirements, borders, marginalization, settlement difficulties, prejudices, religious attitudes and all the state tools that are used to exclude people and make them feel useless. It could have been easier, if I was a calmer person, or a tall blondie with blue eyes of a German or an American, or if I was more brainy... maybe maybe. Or if I had the same nationality like the ones in the queue. thinking very simply and it does not suit me, I know. I just know that we are all Gregor Samsas, all over Europe, neither well-known, nor European, but we are a part of the reality and this reality is much larger than a document they give us, the permit or visa or whatever thing that they issue to include us into the society. We have our rights to be a part of a society, because in general we are parts of a larger society, society of human-beings. Society of the world's people.
Let's see. I got my permesso di soggiorno (residence permit) after three months. Actually things evolved really fast because some people have not even given their fingerprints in the questura. What does questura mean?
questura /kwesˈtura/ f. = offices responsible for police force, public order and relative administrative services.
I could not recognize myself in the police office where you receive your residence permit card. Basically we went there at 9.30 which was late, as we all had appointments for that day. Only saturdays they are working now which is making things more complicated. We got in the queue. Actually there were no queues. There were different lines of people from each part, and they were really close to each other. The machine which gives the numbers for getting into the "fila" (in Italiano, it means the queue) was broken, and since it is such a small place, with the hot weather outside people were sweating but waiting for this card which is very much important in their lives, which is crucial for them to travel freely from one European state to the other and from Europe to back to their country (at least for 1 year) without any problems.
Because we did not get into the proper queue and because there was one Albanian girl in front of us and because she could get her residence permit card earlier than us we thought that we could have done the same. However, the other Albanians in the queue resisted, they said that we were not in the queue. Even one was pushing me with his arm and I was so annoyed that I started to shout "don't push" he was still pushing me, I said once more "don't push". I was really angry. Does it happen to you too, that when you have to deal with bureaucracy you feel very small, you feel like an insect like the one in Kafka? Like Gregor Samsa exactly? I felt like that and I felt over-aggressive so much so that I said "Be a human, donot push". My friend Mine was shocked, she had never seen me like this. We tried to get into the queue. She said to the Albanian behind the guy who was pushing me "You gave the permission to her because she is Albanian." and she said nothing else. She is not an unbalanced person like me, she is maturer and calmer. She was saying "let's go and come later". I said that since we had waited for more than 1 hour we would not go anywhere without taking our residence permit. Then we talked to the Albanian guy behind, he said in Italian that he understood that we were Turks, from the way we spoke. Well, that is the revenge of the Balkans from the former empire? Or is it the general Turkish aggressive attitude when s/he is not treated in a nice way? Maybe both, maybe neither. Maybe it was just the hot weather and the stress. But it ruined my day for sure. I hated the migrant in front of me who was smelling very bad, because he did not "roll it on". I hated myself that I was not beautiful and blonde enough for guys who could have given me the space to go to the front... I hated from my glasses which hided my eyes and gave me the appearance of a person who is not sympathetic at all, a person who lives only in her aquarium made of glass and does not want to know people.
I told myself as I got into the queue after one Albanian guy and the second Albanian guy with his wife. Actually between the wife and the husband without knowing that they were married. The woman was standing very close to me so much so that if it was a man you would have been disturbed by this attitude and when I understood that they were husband and wife I said, "I did not know it sorry, would you like to pass here?" She said yes and I was behind them. Then there was the Srilankan guy who was a very nice guy, with his nephew near us. They took their cards and the Gorrillaz-tall-large Srilankan guy near me (who always frowned), did not give me the turn so he took his card, too. But before all that there was a Tunisian or Moroccan guy who came with his very young, purple headscarved wife and who said something to get into the queue before us and he was successful, others let him, too. I was at the moment of hating all the religions, too, especially my own. Not only that I hated all the migrants who did not act nicely there, I hated the Muslims and non-Muslims, I hated the questura officers, I hated the Italian state, I hated myself, I hated the system, hated the Schengen agreements, I hated the Europeans and I hated the rest and the west. I hated the world in general.
When the time came to us, the police officer asked my previous permesso di soggiorno, I said that I gave the renunciation that I lost it. (I had given it before 2 times). When I was giving her the copy of the "denuncia" I said to Mine and Omar (he is my Columbian friend) that I had given it three times. She understood and said something in Italian that I did not understand. Then everything was fine, I asked her "how nice her glasses were (purple framed glasses) and where she bought them from". She laughed sarcastically not even answering. So I went and I hated the residence permit card at the time. Because I said something that was supposed to be nice, at a wrong time, at a wrong place at a wrong person...
I hated being a migrant, I was ashamed of studying migration and thinking of these things.
I am really envious of the professors (European and American) who do not have to go through this processes. They write and read and think and understand. But they are there and we are here. And despite our bloody history (I wonder who has not got?), our mistakes, massacres, our provocative aspects in religion, I feel that I would be born as a Turk and not regret it, even if I am ashamed of being sometimes. Because I know that being European is something quite different from being a Turk. There is a huge gap, there is a huge similarity. There are borders, huge. There are no borders in fact. I just wonder how much I can live with this dialectic anymore as I am a person who has been raised in a modern family. My mother was a doctor and my father was a very well-educated man, who has always advised me to travel, meet, know and understand cultures, peoples, countries without any prejudices. Yes, dad, maybe at your time, world was better, even though it was not so globalized. The more the people got to know each other, the less they liked each other.
I am sorry for Europe, I am sorry for Turkey, I am sorry for the migrants including myself. It could have been easier to be a human, "essere umano" if our nerves were not racked by the visa requirements, borders, marginalization, settlement difficulties, prejudices, religious attitudes and all the state tools that are used to exclude people and make them feel useless. It could have been easier, if I was a calmer person, or a tall blondie with blue eyes of a German or an American, or if I was more brainy... maybe maybe. Or if I had the same nationality like the ones in the queue. thinking very simply and it does not suit me, I know. I just know that we are all Gregor Samsas, all over Europe, neither well-known, nor European, but we are a part of the reality and this reality is much larger than a document they give us, the permit or visa or whatever thing that they issue to include us into the society. We have our rights to be a part of a society, because in general we are parts of a larger society, society of human-beings. Society of the world's people.
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