I would underestimate myself if I said that the exchange semester in Kurdistan didn't have major impact on my personal growth. Because it did.
As I said on my previous blog posts, I didn't really choose to do my exchange in Kurdistan - I was forced due to having no other choice. But I am glad I had no other choice. I grew up between two cultures and I never really felt being a Kurd but rather a lost soul who tried to convince herself that she is a Finn no matter her appearance. But see, I am not just a Kurd nor a Finn and I realized this only after me exchange.
I was in my 20's when I flew to Kurdistan and as many others also I didn't really know who I am. It certainly didn't help that I didn't speak fluently my mother language. I started the semester in October 2011. I was really happy that all of the students in the university spoke fluent English therefore I didn't have to speak in Kurdish. Actually many of them didn't even know I'm a Kurd. I guess they thought I'm just another Western girl lost in Kurdistan. Only after few weeks I spoke in Kurdish and to the student's reaction I felt ashamed since my accent was funny to them.
I woke up everyday before 8 am, had breakfast and went to my classes. The first day was terrible. I sat at the front of the class, opened my bag and grabbed my pens and notebook. I laid my pens on the desk in order and notebook next to it. I was surprised that none of my classmates had even a pen with them. So since day one I felt like a joke, because to them I was weird for carrying multiple pens.
I don't know if it was only this university, or the culture or the society but the amount of sarcasm was astonishing. Obviously I had no experience in people who made fun of others just for the fun of it so most of the sarcastic comments didn't even reach my understanding. Call it being stupid but honestly I just didn't understand where it came from. Sure its easy to pick on the new girl who didn't understand "the local way" nor spoke fluently her mother language. To be quite honest the first few months were hell to me. There wasn't a single day I didn't go back home with a sad face.
One of the days that hurt me the most was a day when I went to uni with a skirt I thought was beautiful. Only few hours had passed when one of my male classmates came to me and said "Taj, you know that dress is too short and not acceptable?" I was shocked because honestly it was just above my knee. Then he continued "Everyone is talking about you and making fun of you." My eyes were filled with tears but I hold it in. I just excused myself and ran to the ladies room and just cried. To me that feeling was terrible because no one has ever told me how to dress plus I was just depressed so I just couldn't hold it anymore. It took me just 15 min to realize that I won't survive a week unless I start to live and act as everyone else does.
I texted that same male classmate and asked a ride home. He was so kind that of course he took me home. Once I got home I asked him to wait for 5 min. I went to my room, threw away the skirt and put on a dress with more acceptable length. I gathered myself and walked back to the car. He looked at me once and knew I'm going to handle this no matter what. We went back to uni and I walked to my next class without feeling a hint of awkwardness but I knew everyone was looking at me and that I had changed my clothes for a reason. Since that day I didn't let anyone walk on me.
First I asked my cousins to correct me each time I said something wrong, I asked them also to teach me how to read and write in Kurdish letters. I learned in less than few weeks. I started out by reading all the signs and rewriting song lyrics and let me tell you I succeeded so well that I even surprised myself!
After a while I started making friends who I had so much fun with. They showed me around, taught me how to behave in certain situations and most of all they taught me not to carry around a god damn pen because no one uses it there. :D My classmates and friends started to call me "gandal" which meant "corrupted", and I didn't mind it because it was true. I was corrupted by the society, the uni and even my friends. The only thing that mattered was that I accepted being corrupted because I wanted to be part of the society, to know my culture, language and roots.
It didn't take long until I attended all the seminars provided by the uni, exhibitions and many other. I learned a lot during those 6 months but what I really learned was that each culture is different and even being a Kurd doesn't automatically mean you can handle the pressure. I certainly didn't but I learned to.
To sum up I need to say that each and one of us should have the chance the explore themselves even if it means stepping out of their comfort-zone and exploring something new and maybe even awful. It all comes down to how will you act upon it. If I had truly gone the depression road I wouldn't have learned as much as I did, I wouldn't have learned the culture and the language and most of all I wouldn't be the person I am today.
Have faith when everything seems hopeless and have courage when all seems to be lost because you never know what lies behind the closed door.
