Chapters of a long ongoing journey to become a global citizen. CHAPTER 1: a child who loves the word…who enjoys the power of speaking a foreign language. Ever since i was a child, an optimistic scatterbrained dreamer, and a small jot in this big universe, I was immersed in stories of the prince who travelled the seven words, and the merchant who spoke forty languages. The word was for me a mystery I could only unravel by traveling abroad, a luxurious pleasure I could only afford in my colorful, joyful dreams. Watching TV and reading stories, alongside listening to the old ladies’ tales and to those retold to me by my relatives who lived abroad, satiated a part of my stubborn eagerness. However, I couldn’t wander across the word myself; this didn’t stop the word from coming to me. Morocco was and still remains a destination for millions of tourists from all around the globe, making it kind of normal to stumble upon a foreigner at one of the tourism sites, as well as around the neighborhood. Not always, but it happened. Holidays for me was a long-awaited opportunity to meet the word, whenever going to Hassan II mosque or Marrakesh, I would only enjoy excitedly the multitude of tourists, who were hanging around freely taking pictures and roaming the streets buying goods and chatting with locals, distributing their unconditioned smiles. staring at a foreigner is highly expected and understood everywhere, for me it wasn’t just normal staring, I would call it a total concentration and a learning process of the gestures , the sounds they utter, the way they walk and laugh, their clothing style, what they eat and how .. Basically everything. I would come home afterwards and imitate them, pretending that I speak their language by bringing sounds together in a way that at that time sounded utterly genius to my little brain. Born into a family where only a few persons went to college, (actually only few had ever been to school). Education was not the key to success, but rather hard work. My brothers were all skillful in whatever they did, expect studying. Whether it was part time jobs, running errands or making money out of
anything, I was the exception, the good-for-nothing kid. Being the first in class was sure something I was super proud of at school, but at home it wasn’t a big deal. Only my mom and sister would care, but since I always had outstanding grades, it became just normal. At school, we had a French class every day, so encountering the language each day made me fall in love with its musicality. It sounded soft, equally melodious and elegant. I wanted to be able to speak like ‘maitresse’1, to converse as fluently as the mister in the news and prepare to the next time I will meet a foreigner, or those boastful cousins. Learning it in school wasn’t enough, and since no one at home could speak it, I begged my mom to ask our neighbors to tutor me, the couple agreed. So each night, I would knock their door with my heavy books and learn from them. The droll part is that I had fetched every single book at my house, many were my brother’s text-books, and told the couple that we were supposed to prepare such or such page for tomorrow’s lesson. The couple played along my game and never let me realize that they knew my secret. When I think of it now, I guess that by deceiving the nice couple I was paying back for all the misfortunes I carried. Eventually my efforts paid off, and I was nicknamed ‘human dictionary’ since I knew every single word kids could have ever asked me. At home, being able to speak French gained me the respect I would have never imagined I could get otherwise, I put my ability in the hands of every single member; reading them papers or medical documents, translating my dad’s assurance sheet and helping my older brothers with their homework. I was enjoying the power that French gave me. It helped me gain self confidence, feel better, and have faith in my abilities to do great things in the future and fulfill my dreams. And I was greedy to get more of that power.
Chapter 2: a high school student.. Passionate and crazy I grew up to become a high school student, with more power, freedom and passion to achieve my dreams. the little kid inside me urged me to do the craziest things ever, with the help of a spectacular English teacher who fed our imagination and inspired us to live our lives the way we wanted and seek 1 ‘A teacher’ in french .
happiness while improving ourselves and building a bright future out of our dreams. She is a cancer survivor, and an inspirational person. I wouldn’t be the person I am today, the real global citizen I am trying to be, without her help and devotion. We had to do interviews with foreign people, which was a huge delight for me. At first it was because we were told, but later on, my friend and I, whenever we had time we would just grab the camera and our student’s cards and roam around the historical monuments or the sea looking for tourists to discuss with them made-up topics, we had figured out on our way. Many years have passed now, but the indelible memories I gathered always bring joy to my heart and draw grateful tears to my eyes. Discussing with a Russian the Arab history and Russian literature, chatting with an Indonesian bilingual professor on multilingual ability and the importance of reading , asking Americans their opinions about terrorism and Islam, or just having a normal chat on Moroccan food and festivals and teaching them useful words and phrases. Those acquaintances i made back then had enormously enabled me to understand the word better, and gain the tools, methods and courage to approach my dreams. A long way ahead of me, but immersed in my passion, enthusiasm and strong volition, engrossed in great expectations and hope; I managed to keep going.
Chapter3: “traveling, it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller’ Ibn Battouta Stories are the key of happiness in my life, they made me live thousand lives and get to know myself and the word better. Reading is a lot of fun, but writing my own stories was way more interesting. I got to draw lives I wanted to live, and to visit places I longed to see, and meet people and interact with them. Although it’s within a word of my imagination, wrapped up in fantasies and great expectations. That’s how I started, with the help of the languages I mastered that broadened my horizons in literature, I wrote along a lot about the world where I lived in, and the future I wished to see. Years later, surprisingly enough, my dream to become a writer got me a scholarship to
study fiction writing at Iowa University under a summer program called ‘Between the lines’. It was way too beautiful to believe, and too good to be true. I went on a plane for the first time ever and traveled to Germany, where I had to meet my chaperone and other participants. I felt my smallness at Frankfurt airport; as I couldn’t find my chaperone. Being able to speak English and French was a relief. I asked, got information, I went on the next plane, where I met him. Both proud and excited, I knew that there was a lot waiting, and many stories to come. The fun part is that at first I was flabbergasted to the fact that almost everyone was a foreigner; it was way more colorful and amazing than what life had ever brought to me. Meeting my classmates and the program staff, introducing myself, chatting comfortably like we were acquainted ages ago let indelible impressions on me. It was amazing how different we were, but still came together in a way that most people wouldn’t expect. As time went by, strong friendships blossomed, as a peaceful community formed. In one place, Chinese, Russian, Arab, and American students genuinely caring for each other, sharing stories, swapping ideas and discussing literature, ethics, religion, and overlapped past, I foresaw a better word coming if only we manage to open our hearts and try our best to understand each other. The experience was eye-opening, heart gladdening, tremendously broke the prejudices we had against each other and most of all, taught me that all we need is love to see the smiling word we strive for. Once at the program, we had a gathering at a café along other writing program’s participants, there were young writers from most parts of the word, with the instructors and the people at the café. We were supposed to read within 3 minutes something we wrote. Many of those writers read their English work, it was fair enough, but at the same time a few decided to read a work in their native language; I was one of the late category. When I stood before them, I spoke briefly about the story, and then read it out loud. Since my style is quite poetic even in prose, it sounded like a poem.. beautiful..musical.. and easy on the ear and interact emotionally with. Even though people hadn’t understood a word, they came to me at the end and congratulated me, expressing how impressed they were with the language and the deep feelings it
beheld. I couldn’t be any more proud since I was able to show them the beauty of Arabic, plus they grew an interest in learning it someday. Right after I came back, with a fresh energy and enhanced skills, I wrote a short story that very soon won the national contest for short story writing. Getting all those congratulation messages from most parts of the word made me realize finally that I am no longer that exiled writer in his gloomy loneliness I used to be. I am rather a global citizen, and a writer. I am reading more, writing more, waiting for the next opportunity and all the untold stories that it will bring along.
Chapter4. “I don't know what lies ahead, but I want to keep going forever...�Fuyomi Soryo Global citizenship is a state of mind that makes the person feel that he belongs to wherever he goes, live peacefully in an interconnected world where borders are only outlines on maps, where people wholeheartedly get involved in solving global issues, tackle hand in hand real challenges , introduce harmony, love and alliance for a better word .it is a game where the ultimate winner is the one with multilingual ability ,and who works for the common purpose, building strong relationships, whilst representing his own cultural background, which make the word full of colors and joy; as in the attraction of opposites, abiding friendships to flourish and uniqueness to become a bonus.
Whether it’s fearing oblivion or just giving sense to my life what made me start this journey, it is getting more motivating, and rewarding. My Korean language partner said to me once that my eyes shine when i am trying to express my thoughts despite my very poor Korean, I couldn’t be happier of what he said. It comes to my mind what our American translation teacher wrote to me ‘Dear, I will miss your smiling face and gentle demeanor. You will do wonderful things in life by the virtue of the joy you bring to all’ I guess that’s the core of global citizenship, the passion to understand each other and the willingness to spread happiness. I say to her, to myself, to everyone believing in me or not, and to those who I haven’t yet met or will never meet ‘this is just the beginning’.