Jailbreak

You know, sometimes I compare myself to Cinderella. Not just myself but other Azerbaijani females. We all begin alone, learning how to cook and clean, how to talk and walk the right way, what to wear or what to buy. We become these well-trained puppies, and life accomplishments are our 'Good Girl!' and treats. Finishing school, getting into a university, caring about a career, hoping to fall in love and get married, leave the house and move on in your life.

I feel like we're robots and yet I'm the only one left out - some sort of a mutant. We're taught to respect our elders and always do as told, yet no one teaches us that a family is a two-way street where communication and respect are the musts. No one tells us that whenever you speak to input something, maybe an opinion - it's looked as a disrespectful gesture. It's a 'you either go my way or die way' kind of a game and in order to survive, you must learn to play.

Living in the West has definitely shown me the true meaning of a family. Yes, we do learn from our elders, keeping them as Royals in our minds yet the West has their family contributing to one another. Learning from one another and having a special kind of a communication. They hear one another and speak in order to grow. There's a friendship between the children and the parents in which I somehow wished I could have experienced at home.

I'm 20 currently, raised with Azerbaijani beliefs yet all I want is to come home one day and feel a friendship between my mother an I. I want to see freedom yet to the limit of respect. No one is saying to scratch a culture, all I want is an understanding environment. All I want is that at times, my emotions are taken into consideration. That when something is misunderstood, talking about it won't cause more tension. All I want is the ability to not want to move out.

I can't really blame this on anyone or anything, all I can do is improve myself and improve my control of emotions.

I guess I'm somewhat in need of a jailbreak.

I'm in need of that connection.

That Need.

The True Colors,

“The rights of every man are diminished when the rights of one man are threatened.”  - John F. Kennedy

On January 22, 2014 friends of Isa Shakhmarli were greeted with an online suicide note written as a status on Facebook. “This country, this world is not my place to be”  part of the note said.

Isa Shakhmarli, a 20 year old young homosexual living in Azerbaijan was found dead after reportedly hanging himself using the symbolic rainbow-colored flag of the gay pride movement. Shakhmarli was the leader of the Azad LGBT (Free Lesbian Gay Bisexual and Transgender) society in Azerbaijan.

“I’m leaving. Bless whatever you’ve done for me. This country, this world is not my place to be. I’m leaving to be happy. Isalam Seferli 59 – I’m leaving the door open. Let my mother know that I love her a lot. It’s everyone’s fault! This world isn’t strong enough to carry my colors. Farewell.”

Facebook went wild after the news came out about Shakhmarli's suicide. Articles on different news sites were published informing of the suicide, even though Azerbaijan does not support homosexual activity. Comments varied from people writing how it's unfair that the mentality and culture of Azerbaijan doesn't let people of any orientation live freely including people who were straight, to people mentioning the fact that Shakhmarli hung himself on purpose - knowing how much talk and discussion he'll achieve after his death, which apparently what the Azad LGBT Society needed. 

Most commentators being homophobic, support the death of Shakhmarli calling it "one less of many to go" in which they were all content with. Even if people don't support homosexuality, what happened to humanity? How could people be happy for the fact that someone - an innocent individual, killed himself because he didn't feel safe or he was just tired of everything happening to him?

Homosexuality is defamed in Azerbaijan, causing many gays and lesbians experience constant harassment, attacks and lack of support from family and friends after becoming clear about their orientation. Many get kicked out of their homes causing them to rent a place on their own or in worst case scenario – live on the streets. The gay society is constantly greeted with various comments either while walking on the street or on social media - from mean phrases to death threats.

Why?

Many societies around the world have grown up and evolved thinking that the traditional marriage where a man marries a woman, is the right and the only correct way to love and to marry. The eyes of the people in these societies are not accustomed to the fact that same gender couples are showing affection to each other, or men being more feminine and women being more masculine. These people imagine all gays wearing female clothes and talking like a woman, in which as they get accustomed and welcomed to the gay society, they notice that not all LGBT are about their image. Most act and talk like their normal self yet all they care about is the freedom to love and to be happy with their special other.

Yet, if someone only wants to live peacefully, why get the constant hate and harassment? Why do people only support something when its on the spotlight instead of it being the case beforehand? People tend to show their support and agreement only if it's under discussion, being scared that they're support might get shut down by the society any other time.

We lack respect and the ability to understand one another. We forgot how it feels to show humane actions when one is in need of support and help. One only thinks about oneself and how something might affect oneself in the future.

Not only do we lose individuals lacking support of any kind, we keep losing bits of humanity.

May you rest in peace, Isa Shakhmarli and many other individuals lacking support.

You will all be remembered.

You know you’re an Azerbaijani when…

Your mother gets mad at you for getting sick

Drinking tea isn’t a choice, it’s a life style

You feel at home when you see people with gold teeth

You stop everything you were doing when you hear someone mention Azerbaijan

 You spent over 100 dollars on a phone number that “looks cool”

You spent more on a license plate number than you do on your car

  

You spend 30 minutes explaining to your foreign friends how to pronounce Azerbaijan correctly

Pictures of you are only taken from a professional camera and a "very" professional photographer

You secretly miss the voice screaming outside your window “XLOR VAR XLOR!”

You can eat pomegranate in an unlimited amount and never have enough

∆ Huge Thank You to the “Azerbaijani Students Studying Abroad” Facebook Group for ideas!

Homeless,

- Where are you from?

- Azerbaijan

- Oh, and your home is here in Puerto Rico?

- No, I'm homeless

Sometimes when I really think about it, I can't find an answer to the question "Where is your home?" The tension between that question and I becomes too tense and so tight that I break down. Before answering anything, I define the word "home" and what it truly means. To me, a home is somewhere where you can somehow connect memories to, visit the place and automatically feel comfortable, and just get that feeling. The problem is that Azerbaijan, Canada and Puerto Rico somehow connect my memories with itself and I feel somewhat comfortable in all three countries, and in neither of them do I get that feeling.

It's hard to somehow consider yourself homeless because you do want to have that home feeling and to know for a fact there's a place on Earth where you truly belong. In Azerbaijan, I feel more of an American-Canadian because I do look at things in a different way that may seem strange. I believe in self-protection in which I will comment back with a rude phrase if someone bothers me, in which not a lot of young girls do. I don't want to find that rich guy to get married - I'd rather be happy and get rich myself. I mean, there are so many social ideas and standards that I just find too conceded and too tense for my life, but that doesn't mean I don't respect my nation. I love going to Azerbaijan and knowing that I can talk in the language I was brought up talking, the mentality I was brought up to have, and the culture I was brought up to follow. It's a place close to heart, yet so strange.

In Canada, I feel more of an immigrant in which makes it much easier because most people living in Canada are immigrants and do know what the other is going through. Canada is a little bit of both worlds, having so many Azerbaijanis living there yet having that American lifestyle. Canada was indeed a place where I grew up hating myself - constant bullying, harassment, and trying to fit in. I remember how the kids made fun of me because I didn't wear the recent sweater from American Eagle or Hollister, calling me "The Second Hand" girl - yep, that's me! I really didn't want to spend fifty dollars on a sweater with a horrible fabric, my mother taught me better. Nevertheless, living in a place for six years, you tend to somehow make it a place you know and relate to. A place where you can connect again and find yourself all over again.

In Puerto Rico, it's a whole different story. I went to a private school with uniforms in which girls would shorten their skirts to look hotter or if you didn't roll up the sleeves of your white shirt a few times, you'd be a loser. The Nixon watch was a must have for you to be considered a non-gringo (not an American). Puerto Rico is a very patriotic territory even though it is part of the States. It's a bitter sweet feeling living on the island - you feel like a stranger yet you feel home. The Puerto Ricans do remind me a lot of Azerbaijanis - patriotic, fun, family-bonded, loud and energetic. Speaking English on this island won't help you much other than get you some weird looks and someone saying "Ay! Que Gringo!" (What an American, Gosh!) - patriotism.

Even though being patriotic is a good thing, I sometimes tend to be proud of the three countries at once. I stand up for all three when something is discussed and let's be honest, if I didn't move to Canada nor Puerto Rico, I wouldn't be a successful polyglot now, wouldn't I? Being homeless somehow makes you unique and one of a kind. I might be homeless but I'm wealthy with knowledge and a mindset. 

Something personal

There’s a huge difference between having friends that are in the same country as you and having friends that are on the other side of the world. There’s also a difference between having friends that are from the same nation as you are and those who aren’t.  These differences might not really have such an effect on people but to someone like me, it’s a huge deal. Let’s elaborate.

I live on an island where there’s nearly no immigrants, mostly Puerto Rican. There’s no Azerbaijani living here other than my parents and a few elderly people. Puerto Ricans don’t understand that a girl shouldn’t be out after 12 or 1 at night, shouldn’t go out a lot, and “asking your parents” for permission simply isn’t an option because you already know the answer.  All you want is someone to go to the city with and relax and have a coffee, someone to sit down and enjoy the evening drinking tea with lemon. Someone who understands Azerbaijani cuisine and enjoys samovar tea. You want someone who can somehow understand your frustration when you talk about personal problems without having comments like “But they’re in Azerbaijan! Get over it!” – you can’t get over it, because even though your friend is in Azerbaijan and you’re farther away, you still care. You care a lot.

I know I’ve lived far from Azerbaijan for too long to even fit in there, but the feeling I got from when I was in Azerbaijan this summer was speechless. I was speechless of constant calls and text messaging, wondering how I was and what I’ll be doing later on that evening. I was speechless of having a place to go other than my own home like to my aunt’s or granddad’s place. I felt like the city I was born in was finally enjoying my presence or better yet, I was enjoying its presence.

You know it’s perfection when your best friend calls you and tells you she needs to talk to you and you have to meet her outside in somewhat minutes, other than “get on Skype!”  I felt like the people surrounding me that summer, could be the people I might love and care about for the rest of my life.

I know that most of the attention or love shown was because I haven’t seen them in a while and it’s all temporary, but seeing my friends in person is good enough for me than seeing them on Skype or seeing constant statuses and check-ins on the social sites.

I’m thankful for my Azerbaijani friends who live not only in Azerbaijan, but in other parts of the world too. You all make me somehow less lonely and less alone, even though it is hard. I’m not saying that I have no friends in Puerto Rico, but I am saying that I have no soul mates here.

Thanks for being my friends and family. Even though it doesn’t mean a lot, it means a ton to me. Might be too dramatized, but I do feel somehow happy with all of you in my life. 

Faded Love

All I can read about on the internet or hear in every song is how people are either happy about love or how someone broke their heart. I got to admit, it's a good topic to talk about - all can somehow relate. I began reading different stories of how couples have met or what really got them attracted to their "the one", and it got me thinking. Love in Azerbaijan. When I started thinking about it, a couple of main topics came to mind: physical love, emotional love, and financial love. Don't get me wrong, these topics are concentrated everywhere but somehow the 'financial' love is a little more concentrated in Azerbaijan, in my opinion.

Physical love is mostly for the people in Azerbaijan who fall in love with the physical appearance. Some like the Caucasian look (I speak of men) - black hair, muscular, strong, strict while some like the European look - lighter skin, relaxed, more layed back. There are many types, don't get me wrong, but since we live in a Caucasian country, our men and women are of the Caucasian look. Women fall in love with men who are look like the physical version of a "well payed gentleman", to some maybe to feel safe or have that image - for the society. Factors like the clothes he/she wears, the cars they drive, what stores they shop at - all is physical. Which takes us to financial love, since without money, your physical image might lack also. But before we get to financial, let's talk emotional.

Emotional love is when you're attracted to the person on an emotional level. You love the way they laugh, make conversation, the way they think - intelligence. Isn't that what truly love is? An emotional connection, feeling dependent of the other. I mean, we don't think about anything except that person. No money, no image is associated with love, in this case. We love because we feel, not because we see. Nothing is fake, all is pure. Pure love - or is it?

When I was in Baku, I heard a lot about the financial love more than I did about the Eurovision that was hosted in Baku (it was a big deal!) I mean, the topic of finding the one is much more interesting than anything political, economical, or social happening in the country. Financial love is when you fall for the person because of money. Questions like how much they make, who the parent's are and if they're rich, what type of car they drive, how may apartments they own and where. We call this life, ladies and gentlemen. Women try to talk to men who have some sort of a future, they say. By these standards, men who don't have their money given to them yet, are not set for their future - what happened to progress? Success?

I'm not blaming women completely, because men have also began to start the trend with the financial love. They start wondering if the girl's family is rich enough and if they can support and help out. I mean, I understand in the world we're living at the moment, having enough money to support one self is quite important, but what happened to the true meaning of love? Connection between two people? 

Does love still exist in the world today? 

My parents' were lucky to find true love, I'm sure yours did too. But what about us?

What about love?

Time Travelling to Childhood

My life became somewhat blurry with constant questions in my head after a recent trip to the country I was born in – Azerbaijan. It’s been three years since I've visited, but for some odd reason, this time was different. This time I had the freedom to see the city by my own eyes, touch the nature by my own fingers, and smell the odor of the Caspian Sea while taking an evening walk in the Boulevard.

Childhood was over for me when I moved from Baku at the age of nine. I let go of my relatives, my school, my house, my city – my country. I left at such a young age that when thinking about where my home was, I couldn't answer myself until this summer. My trip was scheduled for the end of May until mid-July. From wedding organizations to relative visits, I felt comfortable. I found myself enjoying the language spoken around me, enjoying the city view in person rather than by pictures, and finding the answers to my unanswered questions.

The Akhundov Park located right beside my house. The
park that witnessed me grow up.

Unlike others who moved away at such an early stage of their lives, I still remembered the streets that I walked on, the language I heard and talked, the culture I lived by. I know, no matter where I move to, I’d always have that hole in my heart. That hole or the unfilled space, however you want to call it. I don’t want to call myself unhappy because I’m not, but I sure was happier when I visited Baku.

I had that feeling of warmth tingle all over my body because everywhere that I went to, I could remember a childhood connection somehow. Even though I haven’t visited myself and haven’t walked the city streets independently, I knew how to get to any place I wanted to. The constant memories swirled inside my head. I went time travelling back to childhood.

The Maiden Tower in the Old City, "Icheri Sheher"

I want the beauty in almost anything I saw in the city. People living outside of a country, tend to see the things not everyone sees every day. Not everyone could feel the feeling of home because they never were apart. The furniture in my house brought warmness, from the bed I used to sleep in when I was a kid to the kitchen sofa. I remember how my father called one evening and brought the sofa specifically for the kitchen. How he would take my plush dog toy and use it as a pillow and watch T.V. by lying down on that sofa.  I sat on that sofa every morning before school to quickly memorize the poems written by the famous Russian author, Pushkin. Memories...

This was the first time my parents gave me the freedom to hang around Baku by myself or with my friends. I didn't feel stranded by the sidelines of my parents, I had the opportunity to live and breathe. I felt home and I knew no one could say anything about it.

Where is my home? My home is where I feel comfortable and not feel like an immigrant. At the moment, that’s Azerbaijan. I know that every time I’ll go for a visit, I’d have some kind of a soul cleansing process or maybe just another shot at time travelling, who knows?

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

Let's Unite!

February 26, 1992 is a date of sorrow and lost for the Azerbaijani people. The day when the armed Armenian forces instigated the capture of the Khojaly city in Azerbaijan. They captured the city with the support of hard equipment and the personnel of the infantry guards regiment No. #366 of the former Soviet Union. The firing actually began on the evening of February 25^th and continued until the next day, having the whole city on fire by five o’clock in the morning. People were forced to leave their houses and watch their families suffer and die right in front of their own eyes. As a result , 613 people were killed among them 63 children, 106 women, and 70 elders. By the collected data, we know that 8 families were completely killed, 25 children lost both of their parents, 130 children lost one of the parents, 487 people were wounded including 76 children, 1275 people were held hostages and 150 people went missing that day.

On February 26^th 2013, the Azerbaijani population living in the States and their friends will be remembering the 21^st anniversary of one of the most horrible events in the 1990s – the Khojaly Massacre. The massacre is known to be the biggest war crime in the USSR in the late 20^th century. Such horrible action has been acknowledged and “high fived” by the Armenian president – but should people be happy that so many people have gone missing or have lost a loved one?

On January 26, 2013 a petition was made on the official website of the US White House, asking for the recognition of the Khojaly Massacre and its victims.  For the petition to be looked over by the White House, the petition must have at least 100,000 signatures until February 25.

Now my rant starts here.

There are about 1,014,380 registered Facebook accounts on Facebook and 91.08% of them are active. It’s been almost two weeks, of people constantly sharing the link on Facebook and talking about it all day, but the collection of signatures rises super slow – why? If there about 920,000 active users on Facebook, I’m sure it shouldn’t be a problem to collect 100,000! What shocks me the most is how the Azerbaijani people tend to not care about issues like the petition or the strikes to improve the governmental status, but when it comes to collecting likes on a picture, people go wild and do whatever to collect likes! People beat their chests saying they are patriots but I’ve been proven wrong – it’s all talk. Why not show some kind of unity of the people and work together? Why can’t we just collect the likes and for once be proud of one another without some kind of conflict rising in between us? It would be a pity and such a disappointment for me to not have reach 100,000 signatures in time. It would be embarrassing, actually.

To all the Azerbaijanis living on Earth, I ask you the following:

•  Go to: https://petitions.whitehouse.gov/petition/issue-proclamation-commemorating-and-recognizing-war-crime-khojaly-massacre-and-its-victims/W8BbDqYx
•  If you already have a White House account, press “Sign In” if not, then click “Create an Account” and simply fill in the asked (you can leave the postal code in blank, if you wish)
• Sign and Share!

For once, let’s unite and do something positive together! Let’s sign this petition, let’s share it and send it to everyone, and keep fighting for what’s right.

Let all the killed rest in peace – you are remembered.

Allah Rehmet Elesin!

A Long Distance Relationship

A month ago, I noticed a new trend going around different social sites such as Facebook and Twitter. The trend included different sayings used in Azerbaijan and translated into English as something ‘national’. The following are few of my favorite of them all that I’ve read so far:

‘Cayxana’ is our national parliament where all the problems are discussed

‘Goz deyib!’ is our national first diagnosis

“Sohbeti tutanlar – like! Tutmayanlar – share! Beyenmeyenler – comment!” is our national way of getting attention

“Toy kaseti” is our national dating tool

“Axot yoxdu” is our national reason

“Qaqa, chashma!” is our national final warning

“Ejdaha” is our national animal

“Qabaqda saxliyarsan!” is our national bus station

“Adam kishi olar!” is our national way of showing support

After reading the different and the original phrases people made up, a nostalgic smile appeared on my face. I began remembering of all the different moments associated with Azerbaijan – the childhood walks at the Boulevard which was filled with beautiful carousels and I even remember the boat ride that was located at one end of the Boulevard. I recalled going to my grandparents’ house or to my aunts’ and having quality family time. Everyone got together on birthdays, New Year’s, or just on a Saturday evening to drink tea from the samovar. We don’t really cherish those moments because we tend to think that they are forever lasting, but the sad part is the feeling you get when you don’t have those moments as often as you’d like. The only thing left are memories. Memories that tend to bring a warm feeling, and that’s the closest thing you have when you’re far away from the place some call home, a place I was born and raised – Azerbaijan. 

Living outside of Azerbaijan for about 10 years, I realized there’s no country better than Azerbaijan for me. It’s the country that welcomed me to Earth, the country that experienced my first words and my first footsteps. The country that taught me how to read and write and how to make new friends. Azerbaijan is my motherland. I've lived in different places such as Canada and Puerto Rico, and my conclusion is no matter where you live, you’re always going to have that connection with the country that you were born or raised at. 

I remember having a sticker that had the flag of Azerbaijan and in huge letters “Azerbaycan.” The reaction from my many uninformed classmates was that of “Leyla’s from Azer-bacon” because the sticker was written in the modified Latin alphabet and the ending “can” was pronounced wrong, so they misread. Instead of me becoming mad and annoyed, I began to talk about Azerbaijan in every project I could. I began all my projects with “Azerbaijan – the land of fire. My motherland.” I began informing everyone about our culture, our history, our food, and about our language. I felt proud when I wore the flag of Azerbaijan and colored my face with the three colors when I found out Azerbaijan won the 2011 Eurovision Contest. I felt the need to stand out and be proud of who I was when surrounding me were only Puerto Ricans who themselves are patriots. I felt left out when I heard the Puerto Ricans talk on and on how they loved their island and their culture, and I always wanted to have a couple of friends from Azerbaijan beside me sometimes so we could go and on about how we miss back home and drive around in the car with Rashid Behbudov and Vagif Mustafazade playing on the highest volume possible.

I have this long distant relationship with Azerbaijan. I tend to love it without really seeing it. I visit it once a year or once every two years depending on the given opportunities, but I know that’s not enough. I keep updated constantly with what’s happening by updates from friends and family back home and constant checkups at different news sites. Even though I’m not there to personally witness the constant changes happening to the city, the activist protests happening, or just to see Rihanna or Shakira perform at our concert hall – I’m proud of it and I try and show it by informing my Puerto Rican friends.

Two months ago or so, the famous local rapper between the Azerbaijani youth – AiD also known as Orxan Zeynalli published on Twitter “Azerbaycanda yashamayib da, olkemizin gozelliyinden danishan, mubahise edenler chatmir mene. Bele zor idi, qalardiz da” (I don’t understand the people who don’t live in Azerbaijan but keep on talking and discussing how gorgeous Azerbaijan is. If it was so gorgeous, you could have stayed!)

I kept thinking about the tweet for such a long time that it actually bothered me a little. I’m actually a constant listener of his music and it’s funny that sometimes when opening his Twitter page, all I read are constant nagging about how the city of Baku is dirty or annoying, so then I come to a question “if you hate Azerbaijan or the city so much – why not move?” It’s ironic actually. Maybe even hypocritical. 

The other comment to his tweet is the following: a person can love the country where he/she was born or raised at without living there. The reason of movement could be the lack of satisfaction of the educational system, the disagreement of the governmental rule, the fact that some people think they could gain more at a different place such as financially or educationally, or even because they just need to get away. Even though there are reasons like those, some Azerbaijani youth were born or moved at a young age and instead of showing the fact that they don’t live in a country the love or have a heritage from down their mouths, we should be proud of the fact that the youth around the world know where they come from, they haven’t forgotten of their culture and traditions, and they inform the different societies around them about Azerbaijan – isn’t that the most beautiful thing we could ask for? If it wasn’t for our Azerbaijani youth living abroad, there wouldn’t have been recognitions of the Khojaly Genocide from different countries. I find that something to be proud of, not the tweets about how bad  mannered the people in the country are or how they act.

Thank you to the youth of Azerbaijan living not only in Azerbaijan, but around the world – it’s because of you, the long distance relationship you have with Azerbaijan is strong and bold! Keep loving the country and cherish every moment!

“El bilir ki sen menimsen. Yurdum yuvam meskenimsen. Ana dogma vetenimsen. Ayirlarmi konul candan – Azerbaycan, Azerbaycan!” (Samed Vurgun)

The Misleading Thoughts

I woke up one morning,  being welcomed by my laptop wanting to be opened to my Facebook Home Feed. As some might know,  Facebook is a social network that serves to reconnect or for some to keep track of each other’s lives, but for me  it’s just a place to see what people are thinking and feeling, in other words – being a very opinionated observer. As I opened my Facebook Home Feed,  I quickly scanned through the statuses, which varied from “Ай Азербайджан! Скучаю!” (Ay Azerbaijan, I miss you!) to some complaining about our motherland and our culture, which got me thinking about the lack of respect.

I came upon a few articles written about how living outside of Azerbaijan is causing people to feel the “freedom” and have more “taste” in life and actually I have to disagree. Some might find this article quite intense, but I already surveyed a couple of Azerbaijanis living outside of Azerbaijan, and they have agreed with me with what I’m going to write  next, so read on.

Some have argued before that the freedom given elsewhere other than Azerbaijan is beyond the freedom Azerbaijan gives, in terms of mentality and also what you can or cannot do or wear in the city. An article written in 1news.az a couple months back by a female journalist, stated that the people living in Baku are living for the people, not for themselves. Walking in pajamas in the city of Baku, smoking a cigarette, and showing public affection in public is beyond unacceptable where it’s perfectly fine to do so in Canada. Another young  blogger stated that the “fashionable” clothes sold and worn in Germany, could never be sold nor worn in Azerbaijan due to the fact that no one would buy them and the lack of fashion taste.

My main conclusion in this article is that for some people, the “weather” has actually caused them to think like two year olds, instead of mature human beings that they are – harsh, I know.  The problem here is that the freedom given in, for example, Canada is too much in which even random naked men could come up to you on the street, where people could do drugs right in front of you not giving the latest care in the world. I mean, I might be super harsh but I’m stating the truth. In Azerbaijan unlike Canada, people care about others and themselves, such as their reputation, the first impression, what people would think of you and so on. To walk around, let’s say in pajamas, is thought of walking around in home wear, as if you don’t care about anything, that kissing in public is not acceptable because they are thinking of the children and the families that might be watching.  The values of the two nations in these examples are shown quite boldly. While countries like Canada value freedom, Azerbaijan values respect and care to the community around an individual. We can’t get too ahead of ourselves thinking that Azerbaijan is still going by “old-fashioned” mentality, but indeed it’s really not.

Azerbaijan’s modern progress includes the way people dress. Every day, my friends upload hundreds of photos of themselves and of others, dressed like models, wearing the latest brands just like the models and icons we see wearing on the cover of various fashion magazines, such as Vogue. After looking at those photos, I always feel the need to do some more shopping! Yet again, the concept of progress is visible. Sure enough, not only Azerbaijan has the progressive side of the fashion taste, but also other countries that we think do not. We must remember that the two dynasties of the world, Canada and the United States of America are not the main countries who bring some food to the table, metaphorically speaking.

Let’s be honest, people will be people and have their own opinions but at least have some respect from where you come from, or for the people who do miss back home. This past week, again on Facebook, I kept reading statuses about how people miss the simple streets of Baku, the small towns, and etc; which is quite the contrast of what was written above. For example, a PhD student in Moscow, Lala Karimli wrote “Mom, you don’t understand how much I miss the streets of Baku, the yellow taxis, the morning wake-up calls of “Malina var, malina!”  and even the simple Boulevard filled with families and friends. I miss Baku. I miss you, Mom!” and Adik Aliyev, a student in Toronto wrote the following a year back when he couldn’t visit home, “Tак хочется сейчас оказаться там. По Ичери Шехер погулять, на Даг Устю парк пойти, посмотреть на Каспий, на Гыз Галасы. Открывать окно утром и слышать как дети во дворе играют и кричат что то на моём родном языке. Хочется в мехеллю свою попасть и на скамейке перед домом сидеть семечки грызть” (I really want to be there. Walk by Old Baku, go to Dag Ustu Park, look at the Caspian Sea, at the Maiden Tower. Open the window early morning and hear how children play outside and scream something to one another in my  motherland language. I want to go to my community and sit on the bench and eat sunflower seeds.) and a second year student in London, England, Gulnara Iskandarova wrote “A lot of girls might die to hear the British talk every day, but I’d die to be in Baku hearing the people talk with different town accents.”  I’m pretty sure if I look more careful, I could find hundreds more statuses dedicated to our city, our country, our home!

I leave off with one note: Azerbaijan, I miss you and love you, just the way you are!