In the past six years, I have been witness to the horror of
sudden catastrophe as the so-called Islamic State terrorist organization moved
through the region committing atrocities and displacing hundreds of thousands
of families. In the church nursery where I volunteer once a week, Mother after
Iraqi mother spilled out the tales of horror as the Christian population of
Iraq had less than twenty-four hours' notice to respond to the ultimatum: leave
the country or convert to Islam or pay the ransom tax, or be killed. Families crammed
in their cars if they had them, grabbing whatever valuables that could be of
use to them, and headed toward the border. Along the way, they were stopped,
stripped of everything they owned, money, food items, and their vehicles, and
sent on their way, walking. If they were lucky, the women avoided being raped
and the men killed or conscripted into the ISIS army. It was beyond
traumatizing.
What would I take with me in such a scenario? Knowing that
all material valuables will most likely be either stolen or needed to be used
for obtaining resources, I would swallow as much gold as I could tolerate. In
the Middle East, gold is a common gift and way to save up for a rainy day, so
most households stash a good supply. A phone, photo albums, any other item
would become a burden to carry or a risk for attack. I would include a backpack
style, high capacity water reservoir, and some sort of small, solar charger, if
for some reason, I would be able to keep my phone. That's is all I could expect to possibly keep.
In the worst, and most probably case scenario based on the realities of sudden
displacement and the stories I heard from those who experienced these traumas, all
I would have is the gold that I had swallowed. The practical approach, giving
up all ideas of attachment to sentimental possessions before hand would protect
my heart from breaking. I would mourn their loss much, much later.
This pragmatic, unsentimental approach is no surprise for
me. My parents, both children of the Great Depression in the United States and
the World War 2 era, were very practical. They were second generation
immigrants and the offspring of pioneers. My mother would save a spoonful of
leftovers from a dinner bowl. When my father passed away, I cleaned out his shed
which was full from floor to ceiling with small bits of copper pipe, wire,
recycled nails, and small pieces of leftover everything. Waste not, want not,
we were told on a daily basis. Don't buy it if you don't need it. My romantic
soul baulked at this Spartan approach to life.
When I was in high school, we moved to the Mid-West. We drove through the countryside looking for
our new home. I remember one old rambling farmhouse that caught my imagination.
Growing up in a simple log cabin, I had always dreamed of fixing up an
"antique" house and all the fun of discovering hidden spaces. My
pleas to purchase the old farmhouse were soundly beaten down with, "It is
impractical. Too hard to heat in the winter." I was devastated and vowed
to never let the practical drown out my romantic ideals. Forty years down the line, I realize how much
I have, despite my romantic notions, always defaulted to the pragmatic decision.
This subconscious stance has allowed me to live simply and take the higher
ground in financial decision making. My husband and I now own our home free and
clear and have been able to put our children through university free and clear
as well. My parents would be proud.
I still cling to my romantic soul and long to be free to live
a crazy life full of romantic, emotion-driven choices. The only problem is,
whenever I have followed this heart, I feel guilty. At the end of the movie, Sense
and Sensibility, I wept buckets knowing that I was just forever programmed
to make the sensible decision and would not follow my heart as the characters
were finally able to do. I don't think I will ever be able to change. It is part of my heritage.
Family culture transcends race, nationality, and ethnicity. The
ideo-syncretic characteristics of each spouse, born of circumstances beyond
their control, meld to form a unique flavor of the family which is passed down
to their children.
Good evening Julia,
ReplyDeleteWow, you have already been through such experience and would be more than ready in case of an emergency. I am sorry you had to go through that. I agree a phone would be essential to have during this emergency so that you can contact anyone if needed.