Are You Made In China?

If we look up the definition of a patriot on Google, we can find the following:  A person who vigorously supports their country and is prepared to defend it against enemies or detractors. In other words, an individual that loves their country and defends it against the bad guys, or an individual which informs the surroundings about that country, tries to be active and it all truly comes from the heart.. or does it? 

Since I'm an Azerbaijani living abroad, as I've written before, I miss home. This causes me to inform my surroundings of where my home is - Azerbaijan. I began making informative videos, began reading into the history of Azerbaijan, began to be more glued to the culture that all I wanted and still want is to get more information. In addition, being so active in such a field, other Azerbaijani activists or patriots tend to connect with you, somehow. You either meet in meetings, forums, online by Facebook, through a friend, etc.

I began being more active on Facebook, just to see what other active patriots were doing. I began checking my news feed daily, reading the news more often but as I did those things, I began to realize that the word "patriotic" has lost it's meaning. We hear that word used to describe many youth living outside of their home, but is that word used to shine that individual or is it used to make that individual feel proud? In my opinion, not all we meet today that we call "patriotic" are one - some are fake. They're made in China.

In my opinion, a patriotic individual needs to be active - both socially and informatively, online and in reality. From doing different informative videos to joining a strike, from making a simple slide show to simply getting mad when they mispronounce the name of the country and you spend half an hour summarizing the history. That's a patriot. A patriot's eye shines when someone speaks of one's country, not when they say "Can we take an interview which will be published in the local newspaper?" "Oh, and let me add, your picture will be added also." - well isn't that nice, a popularity stunt. 

Let's be honest, who doesn't want to be popular? Rich and famous, living life like a luxury but is using the fake love for your country a cheap way of getting popular? Youth nowadays tend to go with the crowd, do as they have been told, but in reality, life doesn't have enough patience to deal with those kind of people. In reality, the truth comes out faster than the speed of light. (I'm exaggerating!)

What I noticed lately is how the youth tends to be so proud when their picture and interview has been published at some newspaper, they share it everywhere - Twitter, Facebook, Google, you name it - it's there. Unfortunately, if we compare the amount of energy used on sharing your interview to the amount of energy used to spread an informative video about Khojaly, for instance, the interview will have a huge head start. But, why?

Can we call ourselves egoistic or do I just have to understand that life's not full of chocolates, and that one man is for himself? I just would love to see some sincerity, which I'm beginning to see less and less of. If you're a patriot, be one - but please, respect the country. Don't use it to rise your status, use it to figure your status out.

That is all for today. If you're interviewed and have your photo used (woah!) give yourself a huge pat on the back, you're going to be a billionaire.


Just kidding, you're just made in China.

My Home Away From Home

My ASAIF badge

Recently I came back from one of the best trips of my life, I went to Rome. Rome, Italy. Italy – the country of wine, pasta, and just handsome men walking around the city but let’s be honest, I didn’t drink wine, the pasta I ate was horrible, and I didn’t see handsome men (only a few – ah Italianos!), but that’s not what this whole thing is about. I flew there for the ASAIF Rome Forum. ASAIF – Azerbaijani Students and Alumni International Forum, is pretty much a forum or a conference held yearly for Azerbaijani students living or studying abroad. The conference consists of different panels talking about different topics such as the Khojaly Genocide and how active our youth should be, or the Karabakh situation happening at the moment, which I should clarify is Azerbaijani land.

As an Azerbaijani youth, I got accepted to go and attend. So, I went emergency warm clothes shopping, since I live in Puerto Rico and the weather here really doesn't need coats, boots, and scarves, I was in need of major shopping time. I got my bag ready and off I went. I flew a long flight having to transit at two different places but I got there. I got there getting notified that Rome already wants to bankrupt me. Let me add that Rome is really expensive,  having to pay 80 euros (divided into two) to get to my hotel.

Ah, the hotel. A smile rises on my face as I remember my first views and thoughts when I got off the taxi. I see Azerbaijani men standing outside, all in black and smoking a cigarette. I thought to myself “I’m home.” I had this feeling of familiarity and love even though I've never seen or talked to the people I saw in front of me. I enter the hotel and hear familiar words, warm yet so distant – the Azerbaijani language and the Russian language, and every phrase ending with “da” having it extended, ah the Baku accent – how I missed you. I knew I was in the right hotel, and I turn to a friend of mine who came with me and I tell her “Jeyla, we’re in Baku, the second version!” – we share a giggle and go to the registration desk.

This whole trip was a pleasure, not because I went there to talk about politics and get into serious discussions, no, but I went there to feel like home since I haven’t been in Azerbaijan for two years, and I haven’t lived there for about 10 years, and living in Puerto Rico where there are no other Azerbaijanis other than my family, doesn't really make anything easier. I missed the language, the looks, the talks, the accent, the culture. I missed home.

Every girl needs to throw a coin into
the Trevi Fountain and make
a wish

I remember how on one of the panels, I had the opportunity to stand up in front of hundreds and ask a question. Before the question was supposed to be spoken, we had to introduce ourselves, so I get the microphone and say “I’m Leyla Javadova, I study and live in Puerto Rico” and suddenly I feel heads suddenly turn around and stare at me. I was an extinct animal. The animal from Puerto Rico. How did an Azerbaijani get there? I felt special, really special. I had so many people come up to me after that, I really wanted to get a notepad and say “Want an autograph?” but I didn’t, I’m too nice and shy – pfft, as if.

I started to socialize, realizing that there are so many Azerbaijanis living all around the world from Netherlands, France, Canada, Switzerland to China, Korea, Moldavia, Poland (and Puerto Rico). I mean, there are tons and we’re spread out! Socializing meant either standing around and making small talk or sitting in a circle playing Mafia or other games, sharing a laugh and just having a blast. These games were played until the early morning until one of us realized what time it was and we had a few more hours before we had to get ready for the conference. 

The people that I follow or followed me on Twitter or have me on Facebook finally stood in front of me, smiling. Friends. I made Azerbaijani friends, who as soon as the trip ended, all added me on Facebook, asked how I got home, asked for my number, called me – I mean, I felt a nice connection. Wouldn't it be nice if we all went somewhere - together? We all want that “home” feeling back. The feeling which was missing for such a long time. That feeling of knowing where you’re from and understanding each other with no difficulty.

I can call them friends, but I can also call them my brothers and sisters, all beautiful inside and out.

Hope to see you soon, family! 

This is our “Once Upon A Time” story.

xo, Leyla

Our first trip to the city. Rome, Italy