During the summer of 2004, at the age of 21, I visited Italy for ten days on a tour bus with fifty other Chaldeans (ethic Christian Assyrians from northern Iraq) and wrote the following during my travels there.
It is a great surprise to me that in going to a foreign land I’ve learned much about Italy and the Italian people, but also a great deal about Chaldeans. Like many immature college students I suppose, I found myself looking pridefully and with disdain upon my own race , thinking that I knew everything about them already (having spent so much time with them growing up). But this trip has alerted me to a surprising epiphany: I don’t really know what it’s like to be/live like a Chaldean at all. I think much of it might be due to my mom’s family being established in America (somewhat) and she being born in America, not Iraq–she’s different from normal Chaldean parents and our family is different. I guess that lack of “home-country” association with me is partially to blame for my blindness: I had no idea Chaldeans echoed so similarly the traditions and executions of every single other ethnic group I can think of when coming to America. The unifying elements are all there–close, inclusive family, importance of local education (which is just a different shade of familial importance), warines(sp) to leave the family, small businesses being the most common bread & butter machine, focus on math/science (left over from the old country). This family element surprises me with its strength, overbearing, and complexity. How it has managed to survive in this country is shocking, and I feel that it is only the proximity of Boater-Parents that lends this possibility.
The Chaldeans, in this area, the Detroiters and my peers and Oakland and Wayne are going to be the next generation of power in the Chaldean community, and I don’t see the same standards, especially strict, familial structures (amazingly exclusive within the community) carrying on with the next generation. Just like the Chaldean language itself, I see a lot of culture dying. And for absolutely the first time, I’m scared of this eventuality. To be on the cusp of this cultural evolution and end; this is truly amazing, and I never thought that I, someone whom has categorically hated the Chaldean people and their customs, would be so sad at its demise and feel so connected to the people themselves. I feel like I’ve wasted time mindlessly hating these people, because present before me is such an important, rare sociological situation. I’m up close and faced with two cultures (Italian versus Chaldean), and only through this juxtaposition am I able to truly appreciate my own heritage. How truly though? Because all of the tricks and traits that I despise are still present; the penchant for showy, flashy materialism, the ignorance when it comes to global and national problems, respect for only some careers, misogyny in the 21st century, and a ludicrous, strict adherence to the Roman Catholic Church, something that not only encourages ignorance but demands an undying, uninformed acceptance of church injustice and lies. How ironic that, Day 3 into Italy, all I can think about is myself and my own people. Solipsism indeed.
(Also, necessary to note, all the flaws and character annoyances that I’ve come to realize about Chaldeans are still just as valid as ever, if anything more so. Spending time with these people has me appreciate them more, but man do they drive me crazy sometimes.)
Right now R. K is talking about a recently canonized saint who supposedly suffered from Stigmata, the marks of Christ, for 50 years. Now he’s explaining that the dude was in confession for 10 hours a day. And now “bilocation,” the ability to be in two places at once! Ahhhh…guardian angels doing stupid errands and the belief in the unnecessary. Purgatory now. “Your husband’s in purgatory, because he allowed you to put that statue of Mary in your backyard.”
Being in the Rome Airport and catching my first sentence of Italian spoken between two natives was exhilarating! Finally, another country, a wholly novel environment. While waiting for the baggage there was a billboard in Italian showcasing Italy’s commitment to the United Nations, and my mom tried translating it word for word, to which I snarled back a “you can’t translate word for word, because it doesn’t make sense.” Sure enough, in the next aisle there’s the sign, now in English, bearing exactly what she said. I feel like I have been a colossal dick to my mom on this trip, and I want that to change immediately. I’m going to tell her how much I’ve enjoyed the past few days, truly once in a lifetime awakenings to the Chaldean and American cultures, gratuitous use of my digital camera. Everything is so pretty and unique here, so interesting just to walk around and observe. I feel some embarrassment and shame at both my citizenship and my total incomprehension of the local tongue–I feel that the Italians are exercising immense patience with us and that we are abusing this at every opportunity. As a group, we are just -so- loud and inept and ugh, all these horrible Chaldean traits gaining ground in a foreign country is just terrifying to watch. I want to learn a foreign language so bad–I try to speak Spanish around the Italians but of course I don’t know much. Post grad plans for me may definitely be involved with some living abroad. Being here makes me want to learn another language sooo badly..we’ll see how hard I’ll be willing to work when push comes to shove.
That brings me to two points: Chaldeans’ work ethic and their ostensibly impossible-to-curb method of bragging.
D, our bi-lingual (duh) Italian guide is an amazing human being. Yes, he knows lots about local stuff, he’s an invaluable guide in that regard, but it’s also been amazing tapping his knowledge on international issues. We were sitting to the side of this Gelato place in Rome when this girl came by us to throw her trash away in the trash can. No sooner did she stuff her refuse into the receptacle before the overfilled can spewed already strewn waste onto the ground. The ground already had other trash on it, but before I noticed this she was already on the back of her friends’ moped and on her way. So we were talking about opportunities in different counties, socio-economic systems, and I mentioned how spoiled I was, and how my county’s injustices were partially my fault, and definitely my responsibility to try and better the situation. He pointed at his shoes and his watch, how he didn’t need them, at this country’s extortion of others’, but then he said that he didn’t choose where to be born, or the family/environment, and how he didn’t exploit others anything more than he could really control. So we were talking about the different social systems, and he pointed to the trash and said that people may want to do the right thing, but there’s not a system to support that, like the girl wanted to throw the trash out proper, but that there was only one bin for the whole area, and how if the system can’t utilize some of the apparent good out there, what hope is there?
Today was such a good day! We started off by going to more basilicas, first there was a Mother Mary church or some other nonsense. After that, to the “Steps of Jesus,” which were traveled across by Jesus during his persecution/execution and supposedly had drops of his blood on it. St. Helena, Constantine’s mother had the staircase moved from wherever the hell it first was. Then to St. Paul’s basilica, which was by far my favorite one–just green grass and a stoic Paul statue in the center; so pretty. So unnecessary…just waste and splendor all over the place. It was nice and serene on the outside, but on the inside, column after column..gold, portraits of every Pope, the gift shop..just shit that makes me sick. How many people had to suffer for these structures to exist? Its amazing, every single place we’ve gone to has a gift shop–every single little church or monument or whatever, and all these places usually have beggars around them too. How many of us “pilgrims” drop serious bank in the gift shops but bypass these suffering people?
What happened last night? I got so possed off at many different things…my inebriated brother was the target of much of my dissatisfication (I made up a word). He was arguing, yelling at V and V about, I kid you not, how to raise their kids. They were talking about out of state colleges, kids leaving home after graduation, and it was just such a tiresome conversation. I think that the majority of Chaldeans aren’t as high scoring test or GPA-wise, which limits severely college options; in addition to Old World family values keeping most Chaldeans at Wayne State or Oakland University. So when you’re telling a group of people like this that they should leave home or this or that, naturally they’re going to be offended. A was just so insistent and loud, gah, I hated it. Then there’s this whole U of M Thing, people feeling jealous or insecure. U of M is one of the best universities in the country, and lots of people who don’t get in or couldn’t get in just have so much spite and contempt. U of M is a tier one, OU is a tier 4, World Class professors and researchers don’t go to OY, they go to UM. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is, I didn’t make it that way, and I don’t brag about it to others. I feel that I inherently, just by going to school in Ann Arbor, incur the wrath of so many people, especially extended family members. Blech.
When they found out that were loud Americans in the restaurant last night (which was a really nice place actually), the piano player pumped out a rousing rendition of the National Anthem, and the whole of Chaldeans belted along. I was so embarrassed, not strictly because of the Chaldeans, but because of America in general. There is so much evil in America, so much waste and suffering, just corruption and greed in abundance. So when I’m sitting in a foreign country, in a place where America’s reputation is pretty sour, I felt no pride to be an American then, just repugnance. We all cheered and laughed and missed our homeland, as ignorant, complacent and accepting as ever.
It was kind of like A was overshadowing me a bit, which was a weird feeling. Normally I’m the funny, crazy guy, but A was just so damn loud my head hurt. Additionally, I had imbibed quite a bit of alcohol, so my head was also swimming. So to be arguing with five people (J, P, V, V, A (clockwise)), it was just too much. But some of the grand highlights of the evening were D singing, SINGING so well with the piano player–man do we all love him.
I think the trip and constant fraternization with everybody is wearing on the collective Chaldean nerve. There was a just a 10-minute hullabaloo about sitting on the bus–argh, stupid, stupid people. This was the segway into an afternoon preceded by a holy morning of activities. I woke up without a hangover, which keeps my perfect record, and after all the business involved with checking out of the hotel was through, found myself on the way to St. Peter’s basilica for the second time in three days. Before going in for the Sunday mass, we hit up the gift shop. I however, am a giant hypocrite, and for the first and only time in Italy bought something. But it’s what I planned on buying since I decided to come–a poster of the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling. The Sistine Chapel is why I came on this trip, and damn was it worth it. Anyway, after the gift shop was St. Peter’s; still mammoth, cold, and unholy. While everyone else was watching the Latin mass, I first wandered around, before one of the ladies on the trip spotted me and called me over. I can’t spell her name, but she was so nice, I asked her lots of questions about Iraq, and the poor, living conditions, etc. It’s just really interesting for me all of a suden, to learn about history first-hand. She was very kind..really improved my image of Chaldean women.
After the mass (finally) got out the, the hordes ran to get a good spot in St. Peter’s square to get blessed by the pope. We were earnestly asked to bring religious articles with us to be blessed. So picture thousands and thousands of people people standing in the sun amidst all these stone pillars and monuments, looking at this window high above the ground, waiting to receive this old man. The curtain pulled back, a roar developed and surged through the crowed, and a white hat appeared. Only a white hat, and a sad, tired voice, mumbling Italian–such a greeting from such a great man.
It just reminded me so much of “The Last Battle”, C.S. Lewis’ tragic, unfortunate tale of deception and misery. There was an exhaustive blessing, and , afterward, the Pope gave a slight wave, with the crowd expectantly going crazy. Was it really the Pope? It could have been anyone speaking, just leading the people on. Just such bullshit, if anything this trip has put a greater divide between me and Catholicism..it’s just such a bunch of religious mumbo jumbo, an antiquated, superstitious belief in unnecessary happenings that only serve to remove credit from Jesus Christ. Such a disappointing, evil faith. But the people that believe care so much, they really believe this, and I don’t know what to make of it. THere are plenty of phonies on this trip, who believe only because it’s convenient (now I’m judgmental, but right dammit, I’m right. I’ve seen phony-prostration too often before to not recognize and loathe it..so there are plenty of phonies, but some who just believe so strongly and persuasively, ironically not R. K so much but M, she just believes man. Which makes me sad, because I see her beliefs as wrong, so what do I do? Keep my mouth shut–there’s no way I can express that to any of the people here, they are a closed set of predictable, conservative Catholics, who aren’t willing to challenge themselves and grow. So frustrating.
N gave me some valuable advice today, sitting while waiting for the bus: that a vacation in a foreign land needs a few things. First, know/stay with a friend who lives there, second, have no set plans, and third: rent a car. These are the key ingredients. It has me excited when I think about post grad plans, because I want to spend a week or two in South Africa with R–I think that would be such a great, fun learning experience. Travelling is so fun now that I’m older, and this trip is the best one I’ve been on. A lot of that can be attributed to the people I’m with–even though they truly annoy me sometimes, they’re still good people. Fun too: two days ago they were all praying the rosary on the bus, and my brother fell asleep. When he awoke, the Arabic music was blaring and the people were dancing in the aisles. So expected of Chaldeans, so fun 🙂 N came all the to the back of the bus, and asked my mom (who I was sitting with), “”How much will you pay me if I make {me} dance with me?” I don’t know if that was an insult or not, but after a song or two, I got up and danced–I can’t wait until the next Chaldean wedding man, honestly. Its going to rock out, and I think that I’m going to get some Arabic music, the beats are good man, really similar to Indian beats, like Bhangra music. Chaldeans dancing on the bus, snapping and clapping our fingers..worth noting 🙂
You know, I really trust and like our guide D..he’s such a true man, knowledgeable, honest, and funny. So much has come together for this trip to be so nice, just a lot of real positive elements amalgamating into a beautiful, albeit somewhat annoying trip. Anyway, so I’ve talked with D one-on-one a bit, he’s just a really interesting, knowledgeable guy to tap. About inequality in America he feels that, as Italy embraces the Corporation more (and it has), the gap between the rich and the poor will continue to expand (which it has). About world politics, America’s image, all these relevant things..also he said, I should lose weight. Which, it its proper context, was not insulting, but welcome. His wife gained 50 kilograms since they got married, and he was speaking from experience. Just really nice to have him be honest with me, and I wonder to myself, when, if ever, will I lose this weight? Are my balls going to be squished between my thighs for the rest of my life? There are no real advantages to being so big–every opinion and insight begs away from being so large. I would like to have some control dammit, lose some of these pounds. I will pray about it.
What a frustrating dinner, I barely said a word and I felt that if I did I would’ve exploded. At one point, the same person that said only three nights ago that “All gay people should go to Hell, not just ‘practicing’ gay people,” actually said that whatever the Pope said overruled that of the Bible. Now there are people who think that the Bible is bunk, but for people that believe it, what does it say when the word of a man outweighs the word of God? I say there and didn’t say a word, I don’t want to get into it with these people, unlike my brother. At every illogical moment it seems, he is primed and ready to leap into argument after argument. Right after leaving the Paul basilica, he launches into this “Why gold everywhere? Why expensive columns? Why not give it to the poor?” Which I completely agree with, but the TIMING man, c’mon. I’m not here to enlighten these people, because they don’t -want- it, they want to stay safe and comfortable in their own traditional ignorance, so be it. I ask Jesus, “will I really go to Hell believing in You, but not the church? Aren’t You the most important One??” How this unlikely dilemma exists on this planet is so ridiculous, so against what it is to be Christian. Argh.
Speaking of what it means to be Christian, can I call someone names? Like someone who is consistently annoying and abrasive, in words and actions, as close to the colloquial consensual acceptance of the word, “bitch?” ‘Cuz man, there are some bitches on this trip. I swear, they are popping up all over the place, and I am just done dealing with them. Grit my teeth and suffer, but I am not going to waste any more time with them. The ones that are so easily accepted by so many, but their phony facade falls flat when you look just a little bit closer. They’re not just dumb and here, they’re smart and at U of M too. Must exorcise them from my life.
After Latin class, the Colosseum was a must see, but so was the “Appian Way.” I found myself on this famous road on our way to the catacombs, the underground tombs where early Christians buried their dead and held secret masses under the radar of Mother of Mother Church. So when we get there, the tour guide in comically-broken English tells us, with heavy accent and an apparent appreciation of American sitcoms, that “the American Matt Damon actor is here.” We deduced that Mr. Damon had taken the English tour of the Catacombs just before us. Back to that later. So the catacombs were one of the most amazing things I’ve seen here, because it was so “real.” Like, the churches and monuments might be pretty and all (pretty at the cost of the poor, but anyway), but they were enormously expensive and architecturally planned and this and that, whereas the Catacombs were real, dug at risk to the early Christians. It was just really..refreshing to have such an encounter with history. Like, even if you think Christians are wacho, they still did this, dug this, lived this, prayed. That was pretty nice to see. Afterwards, we climbed to dozen ancient steps to leave the cool, 95% humidity-drenched tombs, we stepped out into the sunlight and saw Mr. Damon.
Interesting how, after my last entry, I spent quite a bit of time talking with I last night about Catholicism, different churches, loving your neighbor vs. homosexuality, all these issues, and I felt it was a good talk–he’s turning 16 soon, so he’s still really young (just like me 🙂 ) but maybe he’ll start to challenge and ask questions.
Yesterday we went to Assisi, home of the legendary St. Francis, and it was this picturesque hill-like Italian town…I think it would have been cooler to explore the town on our own, aside from any religious directive. In Capri I was on my own (not part of any group) and left to explore, and after I went through the shopping bazaars, I was just wandering through the residential areas, and it was definitely one of the highlights of the trip..so peaceful and serene, such an intimate view of Italian life. Away from the shopping and tourists, something real, ya know? This whole place isn’t as phony as Vegas or something, but I don’t feel like I’ve seen the REAL Italy yet. I’d like to come back, with more people that speak Italian..when I’m older, yes yes.
Saw the holy family’s house today..felt like rubbish, the idea of moving the original house hundreds of miles from enemies during the crusades. Do these people even know what the Crusades were about? Gold, under the guise of salvation.
Having more debates with people, not really yielding any new insights, just more people disagreeing, especially about my views of heaven. I believe that when everybody dies, at any point in history, they meet up in “God’s Time.” So when someone dies, they are instantly transported to paradise or Hell, but that instantaneous transportation is the same-and-equal among anyone that has ever died and ever will die. M completely disagreed with me, but only because I think she couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea. Which is a shame..because she’s one of the few Chaldean kids here for which I have a slight smidgen of respect for. Oh my goodness, J might be the most ignorant person I’ve ever met. Which is surprising when you think of how many people I’ve met. Hmm..here’s a suggestion for him: keep your damn mouth shut you ignorant, stupid bastard. AAAAHHH! And he’s just one of them! These people are just so SELFISH, these kids. Oh man, there’s been so much good, and so much bad! Aaahhh!!!
You know, as much as I love the Chaldean women (and have learned a lot from them, the Chaldean youth suck. So loud, noisy, dumb, and ignorant. Ah well, time to wake up my mom so we can leave this gorgeous country behind.
Back home in Detroit at long last. Right now, sitting on the bus ride back to St. Thomas, I have so much ire directed towards these Chaldean kids. I feel like I’ve been duped, because I really found myself caring about the Chaldean people, and their future. But once again I am reminded of the character flaws, huge gaps in legitimacy that makes so many of these Chaldeans gross hypocrites. I’ve seen them get on their knees before an altar and sing the rosary, but they will make fun of poor, or blind people (sick) and they are selfish to boot. Also, this K character..he’s such a fraud. He got people to PAY COMPLETELY for his ticket here, under the assumption that he would be leading the tour. But he didn’t speak Italian, was frequently wrong about the tour sites, didn’t really know ANYthing and the KICKER is that D did all the work! I swear, that man was amazing, the kind of man i want to be. Not like these other douche bags…by the way, I would just like to say among all this bitching, that I really truly LOVE Jesus Christ, the Savior of our souls. Oh man alive do I love Him. Thank you Jesus..thank you thank you thank you!!
