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“The true alchemists do not change lead into gold;
they change the world into words.” – William H. Gass
My fifth blog will be about my first draft of the narrative project. Our instructor asks before writing this blog to watch three episodes from “Wizard of Oz”: Wizard of Oz: If I Only Had The Brain, Heart, Nerve; Wizard of Oz: Meeting the Wizard; Wizard of Oz: You've Always Had the Power. In this blog, I have to give a response from present to the past situation that I described in my narrative project through the prism of the brain (mind), heart (emotions), and nerve (high-stake).
BRAIN. What was I thinking at that point??? I knew that guy a little bit more than one year and nevertheless, I easily agreed not only to marry him but also move with him who-knows-where. I trusted him in past and trust him now even more. I know I did not make a mistake in the past. HEART. In the past, my emotions were responsible for that decision. I was deeply in love with my fiancé. Of cause, some warning about parents and how they would accept this all was in my mind. Now, I am totally happy that my decision. NERVE. My friends always tell me that I strong and brave, crazy brave. Marry with a guy, let him adopt a son and go with him beyond the ocean… And to do all these in six months, anybody needs a brave. Today, I know that I would do the same if time to reverse. I was in a couple of years after a hard divorce, living with a little son in my parents’ house. What kind of future could I have? I think, at that moment decided to marry and move to Canada were exactly what I needed. RE-EXAMINE. In the past, my power was only in consent or disagreement to the propositions. I knew my fiancé would go anyway to Canada. I have never dreamed about immigration, but I have dreamed about a man like him. Today, if beliefs to my husband, I had power in that situation. He confessed he would wait for my positive answer. WHAT SHAPES OUR SENSE OF IDENTITY: LIFE EVENTS OR THE STORIES WE TELL OURSELVES ABOUT LIFE EVENTS? I think that life events shape our sense of identity. What happened to us or our loved one make us human being. Life events change emotions, feelings, and even point of life-view in a particular situation or people. Stories what we can tell to ourselves or s are not always true and can be different depending to whom we are telling them.
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Fourth blog and everything become intricate… For this blog we have to read Hills Like White Elephants (Ernest Hemingway) , find and discuss symbolism. This story is about bringing a new life in the world and family, about a hard decision that a person is faced, and possible future changes. Everyday we have to make a choice or decision. Sometimes it likes what kind of yogurt I will eat, but another time it is more complicated and weightier one that could switch routine life on 180 degrees. It was already two years how my family and i have settled in Toronto. In Ukraine, we had a cat, but we gave him to another family because of the relocation and we did not know anything about a process of cat “immigration.” After two years, finally, I was able to visit my parents in Ukraine. I had one long shot in my mind and even my dear husband did not believe in it. As you, I hope, understand, I decided to bring a cat from Ukraine. Why??? We want a particular breed and color. Such kind of kittens are too expensive in Canada, but we can afford such kitten in Ukraine. When I came to Ukraine, I did all research about breeder company and necessary documents and payments. It was a long sleepless trip with a delay in Amsterdam and a long line for check out in Pearson International Airport in Toronto. And, here are totally tired me with a screaming cat in a bag, always hungry teenager’s son and a border security officer. The officer asked me,” Madam, do you a cat with you?” “Really?” I thought, and said,” Yes, I bought it back home and bring her, and of course I have all the necessary documents for a cat.” “But you did not mention it in your declaration! It is mandatory to do!” In my best polite manner, I said,” Yes, I know that animal must be indicated in the declaration, but I could not find a proper line for my kitten.” “Okaaaay… you must go to the Red corridor where another officer will explain and check you and your cat.” We resignedly went in the pointed direction with hazy thoughts about our future. “Why are you here?” asked next border security officer. I again started my explanations, and he patiently, like all Canadians, listened to me. “Ok, but in the declaration, there is a line for cross-border with an animal? Why do skip it?” “I saw that line, and as I understand it is for the product made from animals, but my cat is alive.” “This line is also for live animals, and you should know about it if you travel with a cat. It is stated in bla-bla-bla law act.” “Good for you that you know it,” I thought, but said, “I am so sorry for my mistake. What must I do now? Can we correct my mistake?” At this point, I was enough scared and did not wait for anything good. But, to my big surprise, officer-veterinarian was absent on the workplace and no one check or cat’s papers either her. They just imitated some action. “You are free to go. Good luck, madam,” said the officer. “Wait, I must pay a fee for a cat, my husband told me to not forget to pay!!!” “Fee??What fee??” “You ask me what fee?” I almost told them. “Madam, it seems to us that your husband is waiting for you and your cat. Go to him and good luck.” How I could argue with border security officers, so I went to exit. For a couple of mouth, I was waiting for a penalty, but everything went well. Our cat with us, she underwent the second “immigration” to the USA. Third blog…This time our English teacher encourages us to bring a physical object and write about feelings that arose from this object. After reading “My Name Is Margaret” by Maya Angelous, I remembered my household chores in my parent house, and of course, the end of my helping to my parents was totally different, but some emotions are the same.
When I fondle a small gold ring, I feel deep love, love that never ends or changes. It’s a gift from my parents to me on my 16th birthday. This gift was absolutely unexpected, and that’s why it is the most remarkable. It was a long time ago when not only my family but all the people in my country try to survive. The Soviet Union broke up, and my country, Ukraine, became independent. On another hand, it triggered an enormous number of problems into the lives of ordinary people. I still can remember that terrible word “inflation.” When you woke up and a loaf of bread cost 100 UAH instead of 10 yesterday. And me, a small girl, could not understand why… In that decade while my country was building own independence, people had a small farm for feeding own families and mine was not an exception. We had kitchen-garden from where most vegetables, fruit, and herbs came on our table. Moreover, we had a small farm where we raised animals for our own subsistence. Of course, my parent had a job, but the salary was not paid or paid in some goods like furniture or books. So, real money or so-called cash was a pretty rare phenomenon in the family. On my 16th birthday, I woke up with feast feeling as I knew that a small party ahead with a couple of my best friend. Unfortunately, the birthday did not cancel house chores. My dad came for lunch home and with a mysterious look told me to be ready to go with him. Said that I was surprised and scary, it is saying nothing. We went to the city downtown. He led me to the jewelry store and grand me to chose the ring what I desire. I was over the moon. It seems to me that at that moment I squeezed like a crazy. I have remembered till now my father’s eyes full of love and happiness. I wore it without removing for a lengthy time. Only now I realize how hard it was for my parents to make it so that we did not go hungry or were dressed normally. This ring is a reminder of that time when it was hard for us but we were all together and happy. Till now, any other gift or surprise hasn’t competed with a small gold ring from my 16th birthday. |
AuthorI will use this page to post blogs throughout my English Composition I class. Archives
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