Friday 12 June 2009

6.30 am

Strange night and morning. First I dreamt about my brothers disappearing to a parallel universe and the only way to get them back was to use stones to make a fire. Got up at 6.15. Something that I would like to do every morning but I'm too much in love with my bed. Had breakfast and got out of the house… Halfway  down the stairs I realised that something fairly important was missing; my glasses. What's that a sign of? Old age?

 

Once again it was proved that morning walks are good for your brain activity. While racing up and down the hills of Paterna while listening to Zveri, it dawned on me. I am an immigrant. An immigrant of the lucky kind. The kind that is embraced with open arms because of the right passport, the right kind of education and the right appearance.

 

My passport used to be blue. Now it's red, but nonetheless it grants me access to most countries of the world. If I would feel like it, I could move to Romania and nobody would harrass me. I've gone to a good British university, one of the best in fact. Not because my parents are wealthy enough to spend thousands on their adventerous daughter. Although my parents helped, I think the Finnish state has been the most contributing part, together with my own work. My light hair and light skin makes me blend in in this European paradise and very few xenophobic idiots are likely to start calling me names on the street. Even in Russia I managed to avoid problems to such an extent that it was almost unnaturally hilarious. One drunken guard with vodka in his head does not matter much as long as the militsia boys leave you alone. If I get into trouble, I won't need to start any illegal activitites. If Spain won't look after me, I can always rush back to Finland and the problem is solved.

 

So, I'm an immigrant because it's fun and because I'm in love. I'm not starving, being threatened or being bombed at. The risk of being tortured is not very big either. Wow, I am lucky. Lucky, lucky, lucky. And completely pissed off with people who sit on their big fat asses complaining about how immigrants (the bad kind, the illegal ones) are invading their country and taking their jobs. Is it more ok then that another European comes and takes their jobs? I knew a guy once, in Manchester. A good catholic with a master's degree in sociology who was telling everyone that his children would go to a private school so that they wouldn't need to associate with Muslims. They should all just returnto where they came from. This highly educated man from northern Poland had been living in England for a couple of years, many of the Muslims he was critising had come to the UK decades earlier.  

 

Blah. A veces la gente piensa con sus dedos.

 

Lucky lucky lucky… Now I have Kylie Minogue singing in my head. Lalalalala.

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