Sunday, April 27, 2008

East or West Home is Best.




Today is Sunday April 27, 2008. Everyone in Kent State University ILEP group have their eyes riveted on the calendar these days as we count down to the trip back home. I have noticed that everyone is so beyond homesick, tense, and impatient. The days, however, are obstinate and are slow-paced and add to the mountain of homework we have. We have papers to submit, a portfolio to complete, reports to write, posters to make, lesson plans to prepare, presentations to give, and shopping to do to get ready for the trip back home.
It is strange how people even refuse to go out to cultural events. They prefer staying in their rooms, do their assignments, eat, and go to sleep. I enjoy learning about this American diverse culture though I want to go home like I never wanted to go home before.
Before coming to Ohio last January, I had known, from experience, I would be amazed for some time then I would start to get homesick and upset. From previous experience also, I know that once back home I will experience Reverse Culture Shock after the fist few days. I know I will miss many things I am used to and many people I met here. I will miss order, punctuality, smoking-free environment, taking many pictures, buritos at Chipotle restaurant, Jeorge Carlin and a bunch of other stand up comedians…I will be leaving my new home behind, the friends I made, my new family (Linda, Jennifer, and Rose and others), nice and helpful professors; and there is a good chance that I will never see them again. The thought of it makes my heart ache. I am a very emotional person, especially over people I love and respect.
I think I have shown enough remarkable fortitude for the last four months but this is too much for me. I want to go home and I am excited to go and I am looking forward to it because I miss my wife and kids more than anything else. They are part of me and I am part of them.
I have survived the chilly weather, the food, the culture shock, and everything that has been thrown on me and I want to go home. I enjoyed some courses, some cultural events, some friendships...yet, heck with the cheese, just let me out of the trap.
East or west, home is best.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

A Tribute to Nacer




Death is inevitable for every human being because “to God we belong and to Him is our return” said the Holy Koran. However, Nacer Amezian’s passing away affected me a lot. The terrible news of his death shocked and deeply saddened me and added to my homesickness in this ‘cold’ part of the world – Ohio, US. His death came at a time I hadn’t gotten over the shock of the loss of another Moroccan close friend yet – Lahcen Laabid, God bless his soul.
I met Nacer for the first time in Boston College in August, 2004. We were there to attend an educational program sponsored by the University of the Middle East (UME). He was the only Algerian in the group and he felt at home with us the Moroccans though he got on well with everyone else. My relationship with him grew up very quickly because we had many things in common that helped us do so, especially language. We spoke Berber, French, and English but we usually used Berber.
Nacer believed in the power of friendship and he was the only one from the twenty four members of the group who stayed in touch with me on a regular basis. We emailed each other and we phoned one another. I liked reading his emails because they were always peppered with that good humor he never lost.
Nacer was such a good friend and often wished the Moroccan-Algerian borders would open so that he could visit me with his family in my hometown.
He was such a loving and faithful husband and often told me that his wife was the center of his life. He was such an affectionate and devoted father who did everything for his children and whose eyes welled up with tears whenever he talked about them in Boston. I still remember how sad he felt one day in August, 2004 because one of his daughters celebrated her birthday in his absence. I learned the names of his three daughters because he kept talking about them all the time. His boy was still not born at that time. He emailed me and told me the good news when Yassine was born.
Nacer liked fun and enjoyed life. He liked to listen to Berber music. It was in his blood. I recall that day when we were about to leave an American bookstore and that Algerian Berber musical dance came on the radio. He refused to leave the bookstore until the song was over. He even danced for a few seconds there.
My heart is broken because I lost a good friend, a real friend, but “Every soul must taste death.”
My thoughts and prayers go out to his wife, his three daughters and his son. My sincere condolences go to his many friends and all those who knew and loved him.
Rest in peace Nacer you will be missed and remembered.
Noureddine