Children of a lesser God ♠️

As mentioned in the previous article, as Romanians, we tend to see ourselves as extremely unlucky. We don’t see ourselves as lesser than everyone else, if anything, we see ourselves as much better (smarter, more resourceful, more industrious, more manly, idk), we just blame our Eastern-European ancestry for our lack of opportunities or the much harder path we need to take to make it to the top.

I have to admit that I used to share the same opinion, but my recent travels and the interactions I had while travelling made me tear down these old beliefs. In the next paragraphs, I will share some personal stories that will hopefully help you gain a fresh perspective, and perhaps make you reconsider yours.

Story 1

For a long time I wanted to go to Asia. At some point, a friend advised me that a lot of the Asian countries are looking for English teachers, and that they only require a TEFL certificate (and a university degree, I think). It felt like the gates of heaven opened up with divine revelation, and I was given an answer to my most burning question: how to get to Asia, experience the culture and travel from one place to another while not having to sell my body in exchange for food and a place to sleep!? So, courtesy of my mom who financed this initiative (like many others along the way), I started a TEFL course while in London. Fast-forward 6-12 months later, I got the certificate and I was ready to dive into what then was my biggest dream, only to face the stone-cold reality of nobody wanting to hire a non-native English speaker.

Now, I’ve been studying English since I was a kid and by then had worked about 5 years in call centres talking with natives daily, and lived in London for about 2 years. I’m not a native speaker, it’s hard to shake off the Eastern European accent, but other than that, my English is ok, especially when compared to the Asian average (wink wink, stabby, racist comment).

Anyway, it wasn’t really my English that was the problem, but my … you guessed it … PASSPORT.

Now, this is but one example out of the many I experienced, and I’m sure you have plenty of similar experiences yourself. What comes next is no way, shape, or form to say that these experiences are not valid or real; It’s simply meant to help us look at the situation from another angle.

Story 2

Early morning, random day. Went to Dubai Marina Mall, got a salad from the supermarket at the ground level and went to the top level food court to enjoy it. It was probably around 7 AM so it was literally just me and the people cleaning the place. Went outside, sat, looked at the guy mopping the floor next to me and following the kindness of others who offered a stranger (me) some of their food during the previous days, I figured why not offer some of my food to this poor fellow. Asked for his name (we’ll call him Moses) and asked if he doesn’t want some food. He said “awww, thank you!”. I didn’t really know what that meant. The words kinda implied both yes and no, but he wasn’t really doing anything to tilt the balance toward one or the other. So I offered again, only to receive the same answer. As his words were vague and his actions lacking, I understood it was a no. He’s reactions were a mix of surprise, gratefulness and deep reticence to something that for him looked like unusual kindness. Almost like I was laying a trap for him. We exchanged a few words, and I couldn’t help but notice a few things.

1. Though it was very early in the morning, Moses was emanating a very strong odour, implying that he either worked a long night shift, or he hasn’t washed in a long time. Or both.
2. Though we probably were about the same age, Moses was addressing me with Sir. It wasn’t the funny “Sir” we use to crack jokes. It was a “Sir” infused with deep fear and respect. It was a “Sir” coming from a person who “knew their place in society”. The kind of Sir that teleported me straight back to the 1850s cotton fields.
3. Though he probably had a lot more reasons to be unhappy compared to myself, he was happily humming a tune while mopping the marble floors. Another thing that took me back to the very same fields.

We talked a bit, I wished him peace and we each went on with his day.

Story 3

Someone offered some tickets to a party in Dubai Harbour they couldn’t get to so I said “sure, why not!?”. Went, danced for a few hours, got hungry and tired and left around midnight. As I was leaving people were arriving in flocks and that’s when I realized that 1. the party was “only then beginning”, and 2. I’m old. This was enough for my mind to give me a hard time about leaving so soon, but not enough for me to go back (welcome to my life). Went and had some messy burgers (I will show no mercy and attach a photo at this point, the place is called the burger factory, apparently it’s a franchise, there’s one in Bucharest too. Here’s a menu: https://qr.emenu.ae/o5gnb44j7l#/home),

it was already well after midnight and had no public transport to take me home (Dubai public transport sucks btw) so I got a Careem (Dubai equivalent to Uber or Bolt). I talk to cab drivers here a lot. Some of them work 12h shifts and only get 1 day off every 2 weeks. Others, according to them, have no days off. Ever. Most of the ones I spoke with are from India or Pakistan, most have families at home that they send money to. It’s hard for someone who grew up in Europe to imagine the lives they have here and the sacrifices they make for their families, yet how grateful they are for having a job, for being alive, able to work, and able to provide for the ones that are depending on them. Anyway, talking with any single one of them is an eye opening experience that can help anyone realise just how lucky and blessed they are. One conversation is enough for your mindset to do a full 180, and instead of thinking “I wasn’t born in the right place” to look at Romania (or many other countries for that matter) as a promised land of opportunity, washed by rivers of milk and honey. Anyway, this particular night I was driven home by Mohammed from Bangladesh, and he said something that I will hopefully never forget. Something that hit me harder than a brick wall at 100 km/h or anything any other driver I spoke to thus far ever said. He said, and I quote “My dream is, in 2 years, to go to Romania”. He wasn’t talking about visiting as a tourist.

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I do have other stories, but I won’t bore you with them as I think the message came across quite well. If not, let me unpack it here real quick.

The Romania we take for granted, talk shit about and can’t wait to leave behind, is a place others can only dream about. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

If you think being a Romanian offers fewer opportunities than being an American for example, I challenge you to picture yourself as an Indian or a Nigerian for a day. Having a heavy Eastern European accent would be the least of your problems. You’ll be much more concerned about water, food, shelter and only having access to the jobs no one else wants to do; having wages that make you ponder if slavery truly was abolished or it’s still very much among us but in a brand new packaging with a fancy new ribbon; white people seeing you less like a fellow human, and more like someone whose only purpose is to serve them. And probably many others.

I’m not saying Romanians have it easy, I’m just saying that instead of focusing on obstacles and what’s lacking, we should be more grateful for who we are and what we have. Most of us tend to only focus on the things we’re missing and never take a moment to count our blessings. But for an entitled prick like me, who always received everything on a silver platter and doesn’t really know what hard work and sacrifice is, it’s very easy to take everything for granted and very hard to even realise what your blessings are. Until a Moses, or a Mohammed comes along, and through their humility and gratitude manage in 5 minutes to tear down belief systems that took decades to be built.

As much as I’d love to be able to claim otherwise, racism and to some extent slavery are just as alive today as they’ve ever been. The colour of your skin and your passport weigh much more than your education or skills in most places around the world, and unfortunately “equal opportunities” are much “more equal” for some than others. Unfortunately, not everyone has the ability to travel and come face to face with these realities, and most of us remain locked in the preconceptions and stereotypes programmed into us by our environments.

So then, to close the loop started at the very beginning, some of these things are so deeply engrained into our cultures and who we are that we don’t even perceive them anymore. I for one didn’t consider myself a racist, until I was shown otherwise. In reality, my conscious mind doesn’t want the “persecution” that comes from being called a racist, but I certainly behave like one. “Children of a lesser God” is not just a beautiful metaphor but the reality of our world. A world where we see our brothers and sisters of a different origin as “lesser than”, and a world where they have to live with this reality and everything that it entails, every day. To the point where this belief becomes their own. To the point where in the 21st century Dubai, you see that slavery wasn’t really abolished, but very much lives on in the DNA of the oppressed.

“One thing we know; there is only one God. No man, be he red man or white, can be apart. We are all brothers after all.” Chief Seattle’s letter to Washington