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Tuesday, November 8, 2011

HR Interrupted


Like a swirl of fresh air, like a shower of clear water, Budapest swept me into its golden-leafed arms and injected me with addictive doses of HR. Now I am suffering from a hangover.
I attended a study session on social inclusion in Hungary—title to long to print out.
Prior to the session, HR always meant Human Resources for me. From now and forever, HR is Human Rights and I--endlessly confused person, labyrinthing in concepts, schools of thought, remembering my college essays on cultural relativism, switching from defending western perspectives to that’s-all-just-power-games, trying to come up with a smart-ass definition of HR for this post and getting tangled in all the bullshit.
So yes, I was born with rights like calling my next-door neighbor moron and she has an intrinsical right to complain about every single thing I do, but it gets complicated on a bigger scale.
The time of concept-heavy, argumentative judgments is over for me. I left that with wide-open-eyed, 20-year-old Lika reading Kant in her philosophy class, an uncompromising warrior and contributor to the tree decline and paper industry-enhancer—oh those 12-page papers on abortion and capital punishment…I have raped my brain to the point that it can’t cognitively tell right from wrong and always gives safe answers like: it’s never black or white—just grey, depending on a context and such. Those vague blabbers of nothing at all.
From now on I am just a human. Granted, my frontal lobe is still intact, but I know that brain research is still guesswork—I am a neuropsychologist after all—so I just go with my feelings.
And you know what? Some things are just not fair! Like when my distant cousin can believe in Orthodox Christian God and get praised for it and my brother would get ridiculed for his Buddhist ways; or that my brother is happy with his girlfriend and the whole family supports him, but my friend can’t admit she has a girlfriend; or that my aunt works two jobs and gets less than my co-worker who is very successful in re-addressing letters to higher-placed people and avoiding any responsibility. This is why I think that religious intolerance, homophobia and ageism are bad—they hurt.
And maybe some people claim that life is pain (bloody Judeo-Christian philosophy), but I believe that I was born to be happy and I will do everything I can do to be happy and to be surrounded by happy people.
Also, I came back from the session stronger and a lot more confident.
So, my dear next-door neighbor, if you think that I am spreading the dirt in the hallway (I am installing new door) and refusing to clean the mess before it’s all done because I am:
Impolite
Un-neighborly
Rude
Irresponsible like my generation
I can advise you several ways how to go **** ********!!! Without hurting yourself, of course.
The pic: Budapest at night

4 comments:

  1. Hi,

    I stumbled onto your blog and loved it. As a Georgian living in the states for the last 19 years, I felt a kin connection to you and your musings. Your prose is wonderful (I mean it in a non-patronizing way :). Please keep writing.

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  2. @unknown: thanx a lot!!!I am sure we will have lot in common, I lived in states for 3 years. Though Georgia has changed a lot in past 20 years,somethings are getting better...and some are getting worse.
    Stacie: thanx, thanx!!!!I hope all the swearing does not offend u!

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  3. Yes, we should have similar opinions on a few things. I must say that even though I have not been back to Georgia in so many years, I still have an obsession with my homeland. I feel very American, the way I think, the way I don't…But Georgia is like a drug that keeps me addicted to all things Georgian.
    Talk to you later.
    S.A.

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