I never considered Germany to be home in any way, shape or form. Ever. Unless you count the time before I knew we would move to the US for the first time. We’d gone before, but it always seemed like a vacation. Just another destination among the countless other destination we had been to. In…
Tag: identity
Home Is Where The Swearword(s) Live(s)
Except, how do you know which ones? They say that you revert to your native language when you count, which was a myth I believed in for a long time until I realized that – with my stronger languages at least – I’d just count in the language I was speaking in. And in a…
Impromptu Guidelines for Surviving Any Given Holiday (at any given point in time)
As the bells toll and the fireworks are popping off, some people might dread that which is to come in a few hours. Namely, the Relative Fight Fest.That occasion when everyone gathers together, tensions mount and you begin to understand within seconds why it is that you normally don’t hang out, unless a “family occasion”…
Ode to a Lost Friendship Polish Style II
Click here for Part I The thing with broken kids and kids from broken homes, we always recognize each other. What we do with that information is one thing. But there really is an invisible bond, accessible via the subtlest of signals that brings us kids together. Perhaps Babette was broken, too, but that didn’t…
Ode to a Lost Friendship Polish Style I
He came to me fully grown as a seven-year-old boy about to turn eight, so that’s how I always saw him, as the boy who lived below us in my building and was a year and a month younger than me. There were three of us on our side of the building, so that there…
The Author Contemplates a Childhood Friendship Lost
Meeting Ethnic Kin M. would kill me if she found out I was writing this. I can say this for sure because when I wrote a fun piece about our friendship and tracked her down to ok it, she took months to reply and then told me that the reason she did was she was…
The Avon Lady is Not The Only One Who Hates Me – a treatise on my relationship with conservative societies
We ran into the Avon Lady again the other day. As always in these cases, I was with her neighbor and – again as always in these cases – we saw her son first. He greeted his neighbor, looked a question at me as though he wasn’t quite sure whether to talk to me or…
An Acquaintance Revisited – the Avon Lady Ignores My Existence because I’m not Racist
We ran into the Avon Lady earlier, coming home singing and goofing around despite the cold, and then noticed that someone was at the front door. And since there aren’t that many people in the building (and none that would really be out this late), we cursed under our breaths and walked in with our…
(Im)Perfection in Polish Beauty – the Avon Lady (and her partner)
Her (perceived) youth was her calling card and what kept her alive in society, because it helped her cement her place by showing that despite her divorce and teenage child, she was still able to snag and keep that other most desired commodity – the reason a perfect figure and beauty was needed in the first place – a man by her side, if not for real then at least for the optics.
On Finland
On December 6 Finland – as every year – celebrated its independence from Russia with great fanfare. Not by showcasing massive parades or anything else that would draw mass attention to it. Instead post after post proclaimed the glory of Finland and why the poster – Finnish and foreign – considers Finland the “bestest country…
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