Seekers Trust in Themselves

Eva #3 - A Seeker's Story (See below for more about Eva)

Eva stayed in Berlin for thirteen years until political events again thrust her out into unknown circumstances. In 1990, Eva divorced Pedrag, and in 1991 the situation in Yugoslavia deteriorated, when war began among different ethnic factions. Fifteen thousand Yugoslav refugees came to Berlin, and the situation at the refugee center where Eva worked changed. The needs of such a large number of refugees were overwhelming.

In 1989, just before these events, the Berlin wall came down. Eva was at home and watched what was happening on TV. For her and other immigrants, this wasn’t a moment of celebration. Instead these hordes of East Germans frightened the immigrants in Berlin who were already struggling to make ends meet. Eva, as an immigrant herself, didn’t know where things were headed as the streets filled with East Germans, all wanting a better life. She didn’t know who these people were, or if what they wanted would unbalance her fragile life. As the town overflowed with thousands of people, even getting to work became difficult and unpredictable as people shoved and pushed their way onto overcrowded buses and trains.

“At first I didn’t know what to do,” said Eva. “This situation in Berlin, for the next two years, was very unstable, especially for anyone who wasn’t German. It was almost impossible during those years to get a job if you were not German, so helping the new Yugoslav immigrants became more difficult. The first concern of the government was to get jobs for the East Germans. Radical anti-immigrant groups from East Germany started to come into Berlin and crowd the streets. I didn’t like to see this chaos. As the situation changed, I again felt vulnerable. When Yugoslavia disintegrated into civil war, things for me just got worse. I felt as if I couldn’t stay, I couldn’t go back, and I didn’t know how to go forward.

“A number of events led me to leave Berlin and to come to the United States. One of my co-workers at the Yugoslav center, a Macedonian Turk, who had been very helpful when I first began my job, told me that the war in Yugoslavia made it impossible for us to remain friends. For him, the ethnic clashes in Yugoslavia created a breach between us, and although I didn’t feel any differently toward him, he believed that our separate histories meant we could no longer be friends. He told me that I could never return to Yugoslavia because so many people had died, and the world I knew existed no longer. Now that Tito had died, he said, I had no country. As he said these things to me, it hit me. I had left Yugoslavia, but I had never closed that door. As I understood the narrow thinking of my friend, I realized that he was right—I could never go back.

“During this time, I met a Hungarian woman who lived in California. She described to me her life in San Francisco, and we struck up a friendship. She told me that if I ever came to the United States, I should look her up. After she left Berlin, I began to dream about finding a way to go to the U.S.

“I had another experience that pointed me in this direction. I went to a wedding of two young friends from South America. They had no money, so a group of us cooked them a wedding dinner. I made a goulash, and another woman made the wedding cake. With nothing, the young bride made decorations for the wedding feast. It was a warm and loving event, and it made me realize that I didn’t have this kind of simple joy in my life.

It was at this point that Eva took herself away from everything familiar and came to the U.S. She said:

“When I found myself alone in the U.S., I called the Hungarian woman I had met in Berlin. She helped me find an apartment, but then left me on my own since she really had no time for me. One of my first cultural shocks was to find out that some Americans appear friendly but don’t really mean what they say. The friendship we had started in Berlin had little substance in San Francisco. Once again I was alone, but as has often been the case, I soon met someone who helped me. The apartment I rented had belonged to a lesbian couple who had broken up and had left their furniture behind. One of these women returned to the apartment to find some of her things. I invited her in and asked her to stay for a cup of tea. This first conversation lead to many more and she became a friend, a real friend. Through her, I met an immigration attorney who helped me establish myself here. It is often this way for me. When I think I have reached a dead end, someone or something appears that leads me to whatever is next.

“It was a scary time. I had no job. I knew almost no one. I had to keep going no matter what, since there was no turning back. Deep down, I wasn’t sure that anyone would help me. I looked around for a community to join and found a Presbyterian church. When I went to meet the pastor, he asked me what I wanted from the church I told him that I wanted nothing, except to join, and to offer my skills to the community. I told him that I was making enough money from baby-sitting, and I had an attorney helping me with my visa, but what I wanted was to be in a community. I said to him. ‘I teach. I cook. What does the church need?’ He took me at my word, and found ways for me to use my skills in the church for the next five years. I taught Christian education. I organized social activities, just as I had done all my life.”

Eva’s generous spirit radiates from her and draws others to her, especially in moments of her greatest isolation. She believes that it can‘t be otherwise. Reaching out nourishes her spirit, provides for others and strengthens her ability to find ways to take care of herself. She does all this while carrying her grief and loss from giving up home, family, and country. She often finds herself alone.

When I asked her about this she said, “I sometimes feel grief, but mainly when I am alone.” She reached for a tissue. Just mentioning the grief connected her to her many losses, disappointments, and separations. Her tears flowed. She said that she feels pain, but does not assume that it is about her. It does not stick to her, or to her sense of worth.
Eva explained, “It is very simple. Through the years, I have come realize that if I am rejected, it really doesn’t involve me. It is more about other peoples’ perceptions, projections, expectations, or whatever. It is how the world is set up. I may be perceived by others as good or bad, but that isn’t up to me. The way to deal with the possibility of rejection or judgment is for me to keep my mind clear and to talk to other people about the dangers of an environment in which we judge and reject each other.

“You have to step out of a situation to realize that it is mostly not about you. It never was just about you. If someone who has been my friend or lover turns away, it is about things that are much more complex than whether I am good or bad. Most people have others who depend on them, as in a family, and then these people protect each other. I live alone, and instead of a family, I create a community that depends on me, and that I depend upon. I am free to change this community when the situation requires me to do so. We live in a world that is fragmented, where families are fragmented, where change is often necessary. I know that there is no guarantee that I can count on the protection of others. Security does not come from holding on, it comes from knowing that you can’t count on protection, and therefore you take care of yourself as best you can, mostly by reaching out to others. I generate a group of friends who give me some sense of security. Right now, I am in a period of insecurity. I have lost my job, and I am on my own. So I turn to friends and new experiences to help me through.”

Remember to make comments and send your stories. If you want to contact me directly email me at: Ellen@Berkleyfamilytherapy.com