The Writer’s group in Schwäbisch Gmünd

Solis plašajā pasaulē

Ina Turkina
Salīdzinoši nesen mēs ieguvām iespēju izkļūt no mūsu „mazās” pasaules, ierobežotas vienā valstī, brīvi pārvietoties „lielajā” pasaulē, ar savām acīm redzēt to, par ko, iespējams, ir tikai lasīts vai dzirdēts, satikties ar dažādu tautu un kultūru cilvēkiem. Pārejot pāri šīs pasaules slieksnim, mēs sajutām jo lielāku augošu vajadzību būt par daļu no šīs „lielās” pasaules.

Svešvalodu zināšanas ir viens no galvenajiem nosacījumiem, lai veiksmīgi iepazītos un sadarbotos ar šo pasauli. Katru gadu arvien vairāk dažāda vecuma cilvēku nāk uz angļu valodas kursiem Mālpils tautskolā. Man kā angļu valodas pasniedzējam tā ir iespēja iegūt lielu pieredzi, paaugstināt savu līmeni ne tikai profesionāli, bet arī dažādās dzīves sfērās. Mani studenti ir pieauguši cilvēki vecumā no 30 līdz 60 gadiem ar saviem uzskatiem, principiem un pieredzi. Mūsu nodarbības vairāk bija līdzīgas ,, sarunām par pašu dzīvi pie virtuves galda’’ ērtā ģimenes atmosfērā. Mūsu sarunu tēmas ir reālas dzīves situācijas, kuras apspriežot, mēs vairāk uzzinām viens par otru, saņemam pieredzi viens no otra, dalāmies ar iespaidiem, jaunumiem.

Sakarā ar to, ka liela daļa manu studentu bija aizņemta projektā „Kultūru migrācija autobiogrāfijās”, biogrāfijas rakstīšana bija viena no pamata tēmām nodarbībās. Lai labāk izprastu, ar kādām problēmām satikās autori rakstīšanas laikā un lai viņiem palīdzētu, man likās laba ideja pašai uzrakstīt biogrāfiju. Un vēl, tā bija iespēja apmeklēt citas valstis un sadarboties ar cilvēkiem no šīm valstīm. Man nebija problēmu ar informācijas un dokumentu meklēšanu, tā kā rakstīju biogrāfiju par tuvu savas ģimenes locekli. Mūsu atmiņas atgrieza mūs pagātnē, ļāva vēlreiz izdzīvot gan priecīgus, gan bēdīgus mirkļus.

Piedalīšanās projektā deva iespēju paskatīties savādāk uz daudzām lietām, lauzt stereotipus un atļāva saprast to, ka mēs neesam tik dažādi, ka mūs apvieno kopīgas vajadzības un jūtas.

Chance to step in the world

Ina Turkina
Rather recently we have had an opportunity to step from our ,,small’’ world within one country, to the ,,big’’ world, personally to see what, probably, only have read or heard about, to meet people of different cultures and traditions. Just having stepped onto a threshold of this world, we have felt more and more growing necessity to become a part of the ,,big’’ world.

The knowledge of foreign languages is one of the main conditions of successful acquaintance and cooperation with this world. Every year more and more people of different age are coming to our Malpils Folk School on English language courses. For me as an English teacher, it is possibility to get a wide experience, to raise the level not only in professional, but also in the vital plan. My students are adult people aged 30-60 with their certain views, principles and experience. And our classes resemble more ,,talks about life at a kitchen table’’ in cosy family atmosphere. The topics of our classes are real life situations, discussing which, we learn more about each other, we adopt experience, we share impressions, news.

Because the most students of my group had been involved in the project “Cultural Migration in Autobiography” the theme of writing biographies was one of the main ones at the classes. In order to better understand what problems the authors could face in the course of writing and to help them, it seemed to be an interesting idea to try writing the biography myself. Besides, it was also possibility to visit other countries, and to cooperate with people from these countries. I didn`t have any problems with gathering the information and documents, as was writing the biography of a close member of my family. Our memories returned us to the past, allowed to experience once again both the happy and sad moments.

The participation in the project has given the chance to look at many things in a new way, to challenge the stereotypes that might be held by different parties and has brought to the most valuable learning that we are not completely different and we share so many common needs and feelings.

Pasaule ir mums atvērta

Olga Volosatova
Par iespēju piedalīties projektā „ Kultūru migrācijas biogrāfijās” uzzināju no projekta koordinatores Līvijas, pēc tam bija informācija pašvaldības informatīvajā izdevumā, kā arī mājas lapā. Iespēja piedalīties starptautiskā un multikultūru projektā bija saistoša gan ar biogrāfijas rakstīšanu, gan ar iespēju papildināt angļu valodas zināšanas. Gandrīz katram Latvijas iedzīvotājam ir pazīstami cilvēki, kuru etniskā dzimtene nav Latvija. Pirmajā tikšanās reizē vienojāmies, ka rakstīsim biogrāfijas par kādu no Mālpils novadā dzīvojošiem cittautībniekiem.

Izvēlēties varoni bija ļoti viegli. Polina Deguma bija mana dēla auklīte. Es zināju, ka Latvijā viņa ir atbraukusi no Krievijas, jo bija apprecējusies ar karavīru no Latvijas. Polina ir tik sirsnīga un atvērta, ka sarunāties ar viņu vienmēr ir patīkami. Polina labprāt piekrita, ka es rakstīšu viņas biogrāfiju, un veltīja man vairākas brīvdienas. Mēs daudz laika pavadījām sarunās, kā arī skatoties fotogrāfijas. Sarunājāmies par dzīvi svešumā, par laulību ar Zigurdu (viņas vīru), par viņas meitām un mazbērniem, kas atraduši savu vietu dzīvē, par darba gaitām, par cilvēkiem, kas bijuši svarīgi viņas dzīvē, par citu cilvēku attieksmi pret viņu. Vissvarīgākais, ko es sajutu no sarunām ar Polinu, ka viņa ir laimīga šeit Latvijā.

Mēs bieži tikāmies darba grupā ar projekta dalībniekiem, pārrunājām, kādus akcentus izvēlēties, rakstot biogrāfiju.

Rakstot biogrāfiju, mēs vēl nezinājām, kuri no „rakstniekiem „ brauks uz pirmo lasījumu Faenzā, Itālijā. Iespēja aizbraukt uz Itāliju un iepazīties ar citiem projekta dalībniekiem bija liels pārdzīvojums. Sapratām to, ka pasaule mums ir atvērta, ka varam satikties un dalīties ar savām pārdomām, ka esam uzklausīti.

Faenzā man bija liels prieks uzturēties Renatas Rondelli ģimenē. Viņa bija tikpat sirsnīga un mīļa, kā mana biogrāfijas varone Polina.


The world is open for us

Olga Volosatova
First information about the opportunity to participate in the Grundtvig Learning Partnership project „Cultural Migration in Autobiography” I heard from the project coordinator Livija. Then was information on the Municipality local monthly newspaper, as well as in the Municipality website. Opportunity to participate in international and multi-cultural project seemed interesting writing the biography, although the possibility to use English language skills. Every Latvian citizen knows people whose ethnic homeland is not Latvia. In the 1st meeting of the working group we agreed to choose people who live in Malpils and whose native language isn’t Latvian.

Choosing a hero was very easy. Polina Deguma was my son nanny. I knew that she came to Latvia from Russia. She was married with Latvian soldier. Always was nice to talk with her. Polina is so hearty and good – natured. She agreed to tell me about her life with pleasure. We met many holidays. We spent a lot of time talking and looking photos. We talked about her life abroad, about her marriage with Zigurd (her husband), about her daughters and grandchildren, who found their place in life, about her work and hobbies, about people, who was important in her life, about other people relation. The most important message what I understood – Polina is very happy here, in Latvia.We often met in working group with other writers, we discussed about accents what to choose writing the biography. Started in this project we didn’t know, who from writers will go to Faenza in Italy. Visiting Italy and meeting other people from project was great experience. We understood – world is open for us. We can meet with people from other countries, we can share our reflections, we are heard out. When we arrived in Faenza, I lived in Renata Rondelli family. She was very lovely and hearty woman. There was such strong likeness between her and Polina - my hero from biography.

Não se escrevem autobiografias em vão

Maria Antonieta Costa
A imigração temporária ou permanente é um fenómeno espontâneo que carateriza a vida da Humanidade. No caso de Portugal, o processo tem sido constante desde os primórdios da nossa História, com a fixação no nosso território de diversos povos: muçulmanos, ciganos, judeus e indígenas. Atualmente, entre as comunidades de imigrantes em solo português destacam-se os brasileiros, os caboverdianos, os angolanos, os ucranianos, os romenos e os asiáticos. E falo-vos deste fenómeno, porque foi a sua grande importância no nosso país que me levou, em 2009, a aceitar a proposta que me foi dirigida pelo colega alemão Dr. Reinhard Nowak, Diretor da Gmünder Volkshochschule, para colaborar num interessante projeto Grundtvig denominado Cultural Migration in Autobiography, cujo objetivo era reunir autobiografias de estudantes e/imigrantes.

Convencer os formandos a narrar episódios das suas vidas foi a tarefa mais difícil de concretizar. Uns, valorizavam-se tão pouco que pensavam que não havia nada que valesse realmente a pena ser contado. Outros, não queriam tornar públicos factos dolorosos, controversos ou lamentáveis, ressuscitando mágoas há muito aprisionadas em algum canto do seu coração sofredor. Outros ainda diziam não saber escrever. Apesar dos obstáculos, foi possível reunir um pequeno grupo de escritores que, com a minha ajuda, lá iam recordando ténues fragmentos de tempo: imagens, cheiros, sons e cores de um passado que, afinal, não estava assim tão longe, tão esquecido. O resultado destas penosas evocações passou a ter forma, concretizando-se, gradualmente, sobre algumas folhas de papel, permitindo aos participantes refletir em momentos diversos das suas vidas, os quais, voluntariamente ou por imposição, habitavam o reino do esquecimento de cada um. Custou transformar as imagens em palavras, as palavras em frases. Neste processo de introspeção, o meu papel de auxiliar de memória e de corretora de textos, fez de mim uma privilegiada ao participar dessa aventura que é deixar as origens, família, amigos e irromper por comunidades estranhas, onde todos falam uma Língua desconhecida. Para além das soluções que a imigração possa ter trazido a estas pessoas, todas as histórias falam sobretudo de cortes. E alguns desses golpes foram tão violentos que provocaram na vítima a sensação de uma plena amputação física, deixando feridas que ainda hoje sangram!

Eis o testemunho dos escritores portugueses, trazendo até nós fragmentos das suas vidas de imigrantes, mostrando que a História não é apenas feita de grandes homens, de poderosos governantes, de ricos empresários, de famosos artistas. Ela também é feita pelos mais insignificantes personagens, pelo homem que corta a relva nos jardins, pela padeira que nos vende o pão de todas as manhãs ou pelo imigrante que nos mostra como se faz no seu país de origem.


Authors don’t write biographies in vain

Maria Antonieta Costa
Temporary or permanent immigration is a spontaneous phenomenon that characterizes the life of mankind. In Portugal, the process has been constant since the beginning of our History, with the fixation on the west of Iberian Peninsula of diverse people: Muslims, Gypsies, Jews and Indians. Currently, among the immigrant communities in Portuguese soil the highlight goes to the Brazilians, Cape Verdeans, Angolans, Ukrainians, Romanians and Asians.

This phenomenon has been such a great importance in our country that took me, in 2009, to accept the proposal which I was directed by the German colleague Dr. Reinhard Nowak, at this time Director of the Gmünder Volkshochschule, to collaborate on an interesting Grundtvig project called Cultural Migration in Autobiography, whose aim was to gather autobiographies of immigrant students.

Convincing immigrant trainees to narrate episodes of their lives was the most difficult task to accomplish. Some of them valued so little that thought there was nothing about themselves that was really worth telling. Another one did not want to make public painful, controversial or regrettable facts, raising grievances long trapped in a corner of their sufferer heart. Others still said they could not write.

Despite the obstacles, it was possible to assemble a small group of writers who, with my help, recalled fragments of time, images, smells, sounds and colors of a past that ultimately was not so far, so forgotten. The result of these evocations started taking a form, putting up words, gradually, over a few sheets of paper, allowing participants to reflect on various moments of their lives, who, voluntarily or forcibly, inhabited the realm of oblivion of each one. It was difficult to transform images into words, words into phrases.

In this process of introspection, my role as helping their memory and correcting their texts, gave ​​me the privilege to participate in this adventure of letting their origins, families, friends, and communities and burst through a strange world, where everyone speaks an unknown language. In addition to the solutions that immigration may have brought to these people, all the stories I heard spoke mainly about cuts. And some of those blows were so violent that provoked in the victim the feeling of a full physical amputation, leaving wounds that still bleed! Because of this, we commonly agreed to publish only the good memories.

Here is the testimony of Portuguese writers, in their simply words, bringing us fragments of their lives in times of immigration, showing that history is not only made ​ of great men’s lives, leaders of powerful, rich businessmen, famous artists. It is also made​​ about most insignificant characters, such as the man who cuts the grass in the gardens, the baker who sells bread in every morning or the immigrant who shows us how it's done in his origin country.

Deixem-me falar-lhes sobre a minha vida...

Carlos Santos
Nasci em S. Tomé e Príncipe, no distrito de Água Grande. A minha família era pobre mas, naquele tempo, ainda no período colonial, não havia falta de alimentos, embora o dinheiro não fosse suficiente para muitas roupas e brinquedos. Na quinta Claudino Farro, longe da cidade, onde o meu pai era capataz, a estrada não era asfaltada: apenas terra esburacada. Durante a semana, um tractor recolhia o cacau e outros produtos agrícolas. Para sair de lá, era necessário viajar durante cerca de 12 horas. Às vezes, nadava no rio, desfrutando de um bom banho e apanhando alguns camarões. Gostava de sentir aquele cheiro de ar fresco, aquela paisagem verde e virgem! Havia um pequeno jardim à beira da casa onde se plantava um pouco de tudo para as nossas refeições diárias. Às vezes, nos meus pensamentos, ainda vejo o meu pai vestido como um militar da cabeça aos pés. Com um facão e um gancho nas mãos, constantemente media e supervisionava o trabalho no mato. Não havia nenhum médico ou hospital na fazenda, mas somente um posto de primeiros socorros. Estas foram as nossas condições de vida até aos meus seis anos. Por essa altura, comecei a pedir coisas que, na época, os meus pais não me podiam comprar: um triciclo, uma bicicleta, brinquedos caros. Ainda hoje me lembro da alegria que senti quando o meu irmão fez a minha primeira scooter a partir de madeira de amoreira e rolamentos. Durante a minha ida diária para a escola, frequentemente encontrava carros danificados e, nesses momentos, para mim, um mecânico era como um cientista. Os mecânicos eram os homens mais inteligentes do mundo! E foi então que eu me apaixonei por sistemas mecânicos de automóveis. Agora, trabalho como mecânico, fazendo reparos e manutenção de motores e sou uma pessoa feliz.

Let me tell you about my life…

Carlos Santos
I was born in S. Tome and Principe, Agua Grande district. My family was poor but, at that time, even in the colonial era, there was no lack of food, although money was not enough for many clothes and toys.

On the farm Claudino Farro, far from the city, where my father was the foreman, the road was not asphalted: only rutted dirt. During the week a tractor collected cocoa and other agricultural products. To go out there, we usually had to travel about a twelve hours’ journey. Sometimes, I swam in the river, enjoying a good bath and even caught some shrimp. I loved to feel that smell of fresh air, that green and virgin landscape! There was a small garden on the edge of the house, where we planted a little of everything for our daily meals. Sometimes, in my thoughts, I still can see my father dressed as a military from head to toe. With a machete and a hook in hands, he constantly measured and oversaw the work in the bush. There was no doctor or hospital in the farm, but only a first aid station. These were our living conditions until I was six years. By this time, I started to ask for things that, at the time, my parents could not afford to buy me: a tricycle, a bicycle, good toys. Even today I can remember the joy I felt when my brother made my first scooter from mulberry wood and bearings. During my everyday journey to school, I often found damaged cars and at that time, for me, a mechanician was like a scientist. Mechanicians were the most intelligent men in the world! It was then when I fell in love with auto mechanics systems. Now, I work as a mechanician, doing repairs and maintenance of motors and I’m a happy person.

Viver longe de casa - "Deus aperta, mas não enforca"

Laurinda Silva
Puerto Cumarebo, Venezuela, 1983. Marcou-me muito chegar a um país desconhecido, sem conhecer ninguém, sem saber falar a mesma língua e, mais ainda, ver como viviam. Crianças e adultos andavam semi-nús, calçando chinelos. A maioria vivia em casas muito feias, feitas de blocos e folhas de chapa, mas muito limpas.

De manhã, depois do meu marido sair para o trabalho, dirigia-me à praia e deleitava-me a observar os pescadores artesanais. Via chegar todos aqueles frágeis barcos de madeira, movidos com a força de um minúsculo motor. Muita gente animada os esperava no cais para comprar o pescado. Como a carne era cara, recorriam ao peixe para a alimentação diária. Todos os dias aprendia com eles, a vê-los, a estudar a maneira como procediam. Os habitantes daquelas regiões marítimas fazem uns rissóis muito grandes com farinha de milho a que chamam «empanadas», alimento típico do pequeno-almoço. As mães confeccionavam-nas e as crianças acorriam à praia para as vender, levando dinheiro para casa. Ao princípio, eu olhava curiosa as velhas panelas de alumínio ou as gastas arcas de esferovite para manterem as «empanadas» quentinhas, desconhecendo o que era aquilo. Os pequenos vendedores rivalizavam para serem os primeiros a abeirarem-se dos barcos que aportavam! Para mim, pareciam um bando de malandros, mal vestidos e desgrenhados. Mas com o tempo fui-me habituando e percebi que não eram o que eu pensava. Eram apenas pobres crianças que, pelo pouco que tinham, se mostravam sempre felizes.

Ainda tenho na memória os cheiros daquele peixe, das «empanadas», daquele bando alvoroçado, daquele inesquecível mar do Caribe.
Living far away from home - “God squeezes but does not hang”

Laurinda Silva
Puerto Cumarebo, Venezuela, 1983. It was very shocking for me to arrive to an unknown country without knowing anyone, unable to speak the same language and, moreover, to see the way that people used to live. Children and adults walked half - naked, wearing slippers. Most lived in ugly houses, made of blocks and sheets of plate, but very clean.

In the morning, after my husband left for work, I drove myself to the beach and delighted me to watch the fishermen. I watched all those flimsy wooden boats reaching the shore, powered by the strength of a tiny motor. Lots of people were waiting in the bustling docks to buy fish. Some were merchants, owners of fishmongers; others simply enjoyed the very fresh fish. As the meat was expensive, they resorted to fish for food daily. Every day I learned with them, watching them, studying the way they preceded.

The inhabitants of those regions, close to the sea, make very large patties with corn flour which they call "empanadas", typical food for everyday breakfast. Their mothers cooked them and children flocked to the beach to sell them, bringing money home. At first, I looked curiously those old aluminum pots or the styrofoam chests, used to maintain warm the “empanadas”, not knowing what it was. And every those small sellers strove to be the first to draw near to the boats that docked! For me, they just seemed a bunch of crooks, badly dressed and unkempt. But over time I got used and I realized that it was not what I thought. They were just poor children. The little they had was enough to let them be always happy.

I still have in memory the smell of that fish, those “empanadas”, that excited gang, that unforgettable Caribbean Sea.

Timişoara – Scriitori, migraţie şi autobiografii

Gabriela Tucan
Mai întâi trebuie să spunem că formarea grupului a necesitat căutări îndelungate şi amănunţite. Ştiam că ne trebuiau imigranţi doritori să scrie despre ei înşişi şi despre experienţa imigrării. Deci, am început să căutăm familii de imigranţi. Oricât de mult ne-am străduit, n-am putut găsi mai pe nimeni care să se potrivească profilului, şi atunci am realizat că în România imigraţia înseamnă altceva. Într-adevăr, aici unii „imigranţi” sunt migranţi cu lucrul, alţii îşi schimbă mereu ţara, iar alţii vin aici să studieze şi se hotărăsc să rămână. Pentru cei mai mulţi, „imigraţia” sună ciudat şi de necrezut, întrucât nu se văd pe ei înşişi ca adevăraţi imigranţi. Din fericire, pentru ei migraţia nu este ireversibilă.

Şi aşa l-am găsit pe Bilal Abbas a cărui mamă s-a măritat în Sudan unde au locuit numai până Abbas a împlinit trei ani. Apoi, l-am găsit pe Ahmed din Egipt care a lucrat trei ani ca lector de arabă în Republica Moldova şi acum, în Timişoara. Mai apoi, Edwina Vochoţ de origine cehă care a călătorit mereu din România în Cehia, iar acum studiază în România. Următorul a fost Daniele Pantaleoni care a studiat română la universitate în Italia, aşa încât pentru el totul a început cu bursa la Timişoara, după care s-a decis să rămână. Daniele şi Jorje Gonzales din Spania sunt aici de aproape 15 ani, iar istoriile lor de „imigranţi” sunt foarte asemănătoare. Pentru ei, decizia de a rămâne aici a venit aproape natural, şi astfel România a devenit a doua lor casă. O altă scriitoare în grup este Natalie Lazăr al cărei tată român a părăsit România pentru Germania în anii 70, iar Natalie este acum aici să afle mai multe despre propria identitate şi despre originea tatălui şi bunicului ei.

Când am format grupul, am început întâlnirile de scriere o dată pe lună. Scriitura lor este o încercare de a-şi aminti originile şi de a-şi înţelege viaţa în România. Au pus cap la cap fragmente şi instantanee din experienţa celor două case, din faptul de a fi aici şi acolo, din amintirea prietenilor şi a familiei de aici şi de acolo. Treptat au devenit din ce în ce mai obişnuiţi cu tehnici de scriere literară, astfel încât viaţa lor pe hârtie a devenit probabil mai interesantă şi mult mai plăcută la ascultare. Sperăm că aceste prime fragmente vor fi doar începutul unei autobiografii despre cele mai preţioase amintiri şi despre cel mai personal mod de a face faţă imigrării.