Traditions, 1st and 2nd Generations and Expats

Sitting here this morning watching a show on TV called "Namesake" got me thinking
about a few things. 32 yrs ago a young man traveled to a new land, not knowing at the
time he would not return home again til 32 yrs had passed.  What ever his reasons for not returning home all those years I still have only bits and pieces. We really haven't had much time to talk about why he left and for
many years it really didn't matter. He never really spoke of home. When we had children
he felt there was no need for them to learn his native tongue they would probably
never meet their grandparents or any other relatives and except for a few friends that
lived somewhat close to us, there was no need in this new land.

We had promised each other when and "IF" the time ever came we would head home.
No ifs and buts about it we would go.  His family at one point had sent us tickets for hubby, myself
and our new son. We could not go then part being a promise he had made to me
we would never leave without trying to get daughters who I had been denied
back in my custody from a first husband who had made my life miserable for the years in
which he lived. It was not til his death nearly 15 yrs later could we even dream of that.

Now, move forward in time. Five other kids had became part of our small family, neighbors and
other local muslim families became our "family". I myself not really having much to do with
my own family members most living scattered across the USA.  My First generation children of a mixed race
mixed culture family, knew little of the world of Islam beyond the borders of the local
mosque and saw on TV like many of us the cracked, fractured and misunderstood world that they were
a part of but not a part of.

With the fall of Tripoli almost a year after the war began, a glimmer of hope rose in my heart. My husband
felt with trepidation the glimmer of hope as well. I PUSHED him along in the hope that one day soon;
I mean I could go tomorrow, but we had responsibilities and after years of separation with my two oldest daughters I had a relationship with my youngest daughter who I had the least time with. Her and her husband and my two wonderful grandsons lived blocks from me and Grandma got to see them whenever she wanted. How could I now uproot and move to another place clear on the other side of the world? I had my other daughter with her two children living in another state but the idea of a house with grandma and grandpa visiting on weekends and those darn family days suddenly seemed to crumble. After 25 yrs of marriage and of not really setting roots everything we knew was about to be suddenly changed.

Sure we could just go on with our lives here, going back and forth visiting family here in the winter and living in our country visiting it when we could. In reality we barely made a life in the USA and struggled to give our children the things that made life what it was.  So the cost of traveling to another country halfway around the world for a few weeks each year was not in the remotest chance of happening. My husband and I talked, well take that back "I" talked, he grumbled. I told him your the oldest son for your mother and your youngest brother has carried them all these years and wasn't it time that he bellied up to this responsiblities as a man? See Kharma works like that, you ignore your grandparents, your parents and well
when your own kids grow up well it will come back to haunt you.

He finally relented, and we made plans to visit and see how things were. I mean they had just came out of a war and 32 years of repression and lack of even basics and we wanted to come headlong into that? So we packed two suitcases each and took what we could and headed home.

Things really hadn't changed much since the kids and myself were here 6 yrs ago. Not physically but mentally yeah. AS I said before there was a new air about the people.

It took a bit first a bit of anger on the parts of the kids being drawn up into this MOVE and being dragged from all they had every known. Me being the child of a military family it was all I ever knew and I was getting restless having sat so long in one place. Maybe I was selfish.

Its 6 months in and hubby returned to the states back in November to settle our business there. Wish I had planned differently, wish I had more time to plan when I was planning and people had listened to me and readied themselves. Packed up the rooms when I suggested it saying at least if we come back things will all be here and not dusty and we can repaint and refresh the house at worst.  Now he is packing our life in boxes, hopefully not tossing out what he didn't know was important.

I attended a Volunteer group today, we got there an hour late I thought we would be on time. No they seemed to be just about wrapped up. Two people spoke to us we got a few stares. I was hoping to see some folks from Twitter there if you were there I wish we could have met. The young man we had met that assisted us in getting there told me he had called my son so he was on the way back felt bad 1/2 hour and hey come back. Something I don't know said, "Don't think they really care if you came, these youth."

Hope I'm wrong. I'm frustrated not having anything to do and not having money to do more that I NEED to do after sitting in a basement for almost a year watching screens show me a world thousands of miles away and wishing I could be there to do something, anything, I feel unwanted and unneeded. Maybe im'm wrong, I pray I am. Where is the activism that I saw sprout out and yell for the chance to make a difference? I went out to the local ducan (store) and watched as the restaurant deposited their garbage on the sidewalk in front of the store. One bag broke open and salad and bits and pieces of food fell onto the ground
its not that hot yet the flies have yet to multiply to monstrous proportions, but by days end I'm sure it stunk. They looked at the mess and walked off waiting for the cleanup crews to pick it up.

So much needs to be done. Locals will ask, "where do we start?" Youth will say we got to have jobs, we are bored, we don't want to pick up garbage or clean up a mess of a building. It's not our job. Much needs to change. Again I pray that those outside, those who know better and have been raised differently, should come home.  We need, LIBYA needs your help.

What will the next generations have? What are we building now that will benefit them? Certainly not a new shawarma shop....Grand Prix racing? Do we really need that? Glitzy buildings of foreign companies touting goods and services that would be better if they could harness the local economy and skills have begun to come. I guess there is a place for Cinnabons and Starbucks Coffee.  Where is a shop that shows off and sells Amazigh clothing and wares? Harness the dates and the honey and all the riches of the
country in natural beauty.

Oh I forget while we sit, foes still plan and whisper in the ears of youth and tell them that the dream is not their dream.  Burn down that store, kill that person for some old wrong, destroy a bit more of your history that hasn't already been damaged from time or lack of care. Destroy your history, bit by bit til nothing is left. Fill the beaches with hotels and resorts touting the views of the Gulf while slowly you destroy the view for those who sit behind it. Block off bits and pieces as your own and charge to use what should be the right to free use of all Libyans.

I look back to my own country, how long after our own revolution did it take us to turn our country around? Set up government and laws?  I don't know i'm a genealogist by hobby, but a historian no. I'm no politician, no mega conglomerate. I'm one person who had a dream.  Keep reading my blog, not many people respond to me so I have no idea who is really reading it or what they think about what I am saying.
I'm a dreamer, maybe a fool. But I'm not the only one. Realizing as I post this today that most of this I have already said before. Guess the feeling is still there.