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Sarodude
Posted on Tuesday, March 25, 2003 - 12:45 am:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post    Move Post (Custodian/Admin Only)

These are awkward times. We have lots of disagreement at lots of different levels. Regardless of what you believe, say it loud enough and an argument will start 'cause you can easily find someone who disagrees. Personally, I'm not even sure where I stand on a bunch of issues. And then...

Loli and I went out to dinner tonight to a little Itallian place in Sherman Oaks - really a rare jewel on Ventura Boulevard. The place is called Spumoni.

We got into an argument regarding all things relating to war, government, and whatever other relevant current things. Things weren't looking so great 'cause we were both operating at heightened levels of emotion.

As I was paying the check, the owner of the place noticed my name. I don't know how he'd never looked at the name on my credit card, but he finally did. He figured out that I was Armenian too.

We started talking. He's what we Armenians refer to as Armenian from Armenia (or Haiasdtantsee) whereas I'm a Persian (or Iranian) Armenian - a Bparsgkahai.

He lived through the Soviet Union's demise. Before, during, and after the demise, he always had trouble dealing with the corruption the system almost DEMANDS of (and most certainly rewards) its citizens.

In short, he put his fears of change aside, packed up his family (wife & 3 kids) and came to the US with very little and no command of the language.

He got a job welding for another Armenian for something like $3.50 / hour. He went to school. He learned English, figured out that stuff that he hadn't seen before (African Americans, homosexuals, etc) wasn't so bad - or not bad at all.

Fast forward 12 years and you have a modestly successful restauranteur who exactly fulfilled what I always thought was this ridiculous stereotype of the American Dream. I was GLAD for his success while at the same time I envied him for his optimism, foresight, and courage.

I also vowed to myself to look more kindly upon the country in which I live. It's easy to see what's wrong with stuff when you take for granted what's right. This guy reminded me of the stuff I have always taken for granted.

Corruption? Abuse? Flaw? Sure, it exists. However, at least I need to keep it in perspective and realize that it is more the exception than the rule.

-Saro
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Blake
Posted on Tuesday, March 25, 2003 - 02:40 am:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post    Move Post (Custodian/Admin Only)

Very well said.
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Dave
Posted on Tuesday, March 25, 2003 - 07:12 am:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post    Move Post (Custodian/Admin Only)

A good story to reflect on Saro. I think when our point of reference is the US and our only contact with another nation is from tourist's eyes, we tend to take the US, our freedoms and opportunities for granted.

My revelation came when looking at the receiving end of a automatic weapon in a nation we were 'protecting'.

DAve
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Newfie_Buell
Posted on Tuesday, March 25, 2003 - 08:25 am:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post    Move Post (Custodian/Admin Only)

I once knew a guy from Iran who told me a story about how he was persecuted for his beliefs. This guy held a very high position within the financial community in Iran at the time (I believe it in the late 70's). This guy was forcefully taken from his home in the middle of the night, tortured, beaten then flown by helicopter to Northern Iran and left for dead in a pile of other bodies. The locals found him nursed hhim back to health where he escaped into a neighboring country that offered him refuge.

He managed to escape to Canada where he was re-united with his family (another long story on smuggling them out). He settled in Newfoundland where he became a very successful businessman. I have since lost contact with him but I am sure where ever he is he has a good life. The funny thing is that after he told me the story (lasted more than 3 hrs and I got the short version), he wishes that he could return to his home country, even just for a visit. Even after 15 years he had a lot of good friends and memories despite what had happened, he would never be able to return for fear of being killed.

Sometimes we think we have it a little rough or bad but just sit back and really think about the freedom and way of life we experience. We do have a lot to be thankful for.
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Bomber
Posted on Tuesday, March 25, 2003 - 09:02 am:   Edit Post Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post    Move Post (Custodian/Admin Only)

Saro

thanks, brother
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