Facebook dilemma

Facebook dilemaOnce upon a time …
Seven years ago I went to India, where for a year I lived, ate and loved. Because I met some people, it so happened that I got attached, so when they left I found it really hard to say “Good-bye!”. With two of them I met again: I provided them with housing when they came to see me and my birthplace for a few beautiful and to remember weeks. For the rest of us, Facebook was invented and took off just in time (applause). Through Facebook some reunions were planned, one in Budapest and one in Paris, none of which I could attend.
Also through Facebook I found out that E. went back to India working for an other NGO, that P. gave up his potentially fruitful banking carrier to pursue his dream of flying, with all the risks that involved especially within his family, that C. is doing a master in education and is still figuring out the letter A from the abc of relationships, that M. has left Poland and her man and went back to her home country where some hard talks followed with her father, that S. is confused and she can’t settle down in her country, so decides to take a chance on Istanbul for a while followed by a Romanian visit at my place, which she left still confused, but happy she conquered the hills she called mountains and met all the stray dogs to which she respectfully said “Hello” every time she passed them by. And about me, they found out that after a year long depression –post India, I got the first job I could see and started to discover new things like: how is asphalt being made and how many layers it has, how negotiations between a Portuguese construction boss and a Romanian pit ballast boss take place, how a Bosch plant is being constructed with 7 main, different language speaking construction companies, how a sanitary installation is done in an apartment or enchanting them with my stories from the Roma communities, where I entered scared, stressed and nervous, and left with a suite, crying, singing and getting wedding invitations and hoorays.

It began with…
Some time after India, Facebook starting showing its teeth in Romania. And so I accepted some adds from a few of my primary, secondary classes and high school colleagues, which my mind rationalized as follows: M. (primary, secondary and high school colleague) because she is in Bucharest which to me is the equivalent of being abroad; C. (high school colleague but from an other specialization, I studied languages, he studied informatics) because he played basketball and now he plays a rally driver, or trying; P. (primary, secondary and high school colleague), because although she lives nearby I see her rarely and because she provides me with free medication for all my illnesses and allergies and other M. (primary, and secondary colleague, now in Switzerland) because in 6th grade she gave me Winnetou to read when I most need it.

Month of June, 2011
Then the reunion came, the reunion of 10 years after high school graduation. Re-seeing my former high school colleagues, (few of them that bothered to show up), was short, cold and awkward. Our teachers, most of them retired now, encouraged us by saying that in 10 more years, when the next reunion will happen, things will be better, we’ll be warmer to each other, more forgiving and understanding. Maybe their smiles were to be taken as a solid proof that they know what they’re talking about, but an eerie smile got stuck to my face.

To confirm or not to confirm
After reunion, the add flood started. Adds were coming from all reunion participants and non-participants. My list of some 25 Indian friends – sort of Indian, I call them Indians because it is easier then naming all their nationalities, basically people I’ve met in India– started being weekly invaded by add as friend requests coming from people I’ve met during my educational stages. Former colleagues from my primary, secondary classes or high school, colleagues from different high school profile, colleagues met in the school yard and then friends of my colleagues from my primary, secondary classes or high school, friends of my colleagues from different high school profile, friends of my colleagues met in the school yard. Ignore. Ignore once, ignore twice until the requests vanish or strike my one and only sensitive cord-nostalgia, by leaving me almost identical Facebook messages: “Maria, why are you not accepting my friendship request/add me as your friend? Is it because you don’t recognize/know me?” The first seven years of my life made me incline to promptly push the add button and write and apology for my tardiness in embracing their virtual friendship. But the rest of my 20 years of life and experiences pushed me towards ignore the ones with whom I never got further than “Hello!” “Hy!” or not even reached that stage, the ones with whom I knew nothing to have in common with beside sharing the air of a classroom or a school yard at some point.
My fault. I have never left my cave (only temporary for India), hence did not acquire the skills and techniques of a zoon politikon*.
Mea culpa. Ignore.


Lasă un răspuns

Adresa ta de email nu va fi publicată. Câmpurile obligatorii sunt marcate cu *

Acest site folosește Akismet pentru a reduce spamul. Află cum sunt procesate datele comentariilor tale.