I AM AN ALIEN IN MANCHESTER

I had to ask myself a question of being 'REAL ME'. What is it? Everybody's conception of it is all different. In my case answer is not in the future or living at the present, only thinking of the past may have an answer to the question. I can only find 'the real me' in my past memories of several decades and there are many of them. Of course, finding yourself will always be controlled by society and the rules we live in. Since we were born parents automatically brainwash the children as they were when they had been brought up by their parents. In that sequence like building a house, first bricks are cemented by parents and the rest built up in due course by family. relatives, ourselves and the society we live in. Question of What makes us Real People or What are we today ? remains a mystery for many of us. We never think about it anyway. It may vary for every different occasion. One of my "Real Me" stories started when I first visited New York. I had really excited to see the USA and the famous city. On the passport control I faced the question " Let's see your passport, ALIEN ! welcome to Newyork," said the officer. It sounded very strange as my knowledge of English at the time meant somebody from space, thought he was joking with me he wasn't. This was the phrase used by this nation not only for immigrants but also for tourists. At the time I was a legal immigrant living in Manchester, England. With that, I decided to call myself " I AM AN ALIEN IN MANCHESTER," described my status better than foreigners. This is a story about finding yourself for that reason I shall choose the one related to Christmas and the Festive seasonal experience.

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I shall go back to fifty years, coming to my present country as a foreigner. Being born in the 1940s and brought up by an entirely different parental mentality, religion, custom and society of third world country, I was an alien when arrived in my new western society early seventies. The years of the 1970s were a big change in the West. The young generation was called 'Hippies' and their motto was " Make Love, Not War," advertised everywhere. At the time, I did not know why this phrase was used, did not make sense. Their loose clothing and long hairstyle with cannabis usage were entirely different than what I had been brought up with and my sense of fashion which was a very old one at Beatles society. I had to adjust myself but in reality, I just copied them not knowing the true meaning of it. I was a rebel without a cause. during my uni years. Following years I met my wife, married and settled in my new land. The only thing I could offer to my new nation was my education of master degree and of course the love and respect for my wife and her country. In our house, it is the first Christmas with a six-month-old baby boy. The first time I am seeing the Christmas tree, decorations and wife buying presents (lots of them) to fill the stockings. It was a mind-blowing experience of ignorance of course. We had expenses of mortgage, running the house, car, feeding ourselves with my clerical wages (as the wife did not work) was difficult to handle. I remember saying to her " It never happened to me, to have that many toys," but it was like talking to deaf ears. The atmosphere was right with the seasonal music played on the radio, tv, actually wherever I went I was hearing the same tunes. I got used to it. I did not know the meanings of the songs but they were lovely. Every year were the same except in time number of children we had were increased to three than six, the expense of the season soon became a burden. When we had our third child my parents came to visit us at Christmas, beginning of the 1980s. I was wondering what they were going to make out of it. Where we come from we did not celebrate religious occasions as they did in this country. They were born after the first world war and lived with the second world war their lifestyle was really basic, limited and simple. If they compared that with the festival in the UK it was difficult to make any sense. It was a big mystery to me. But, they loved it. My father used to sing the first few choruses of 'Jingle Bells' although both mum and dad never spoke or understood English. I realised it was not only me to be affected by the magical power of Christmas. they also had a beautiful time together with us. This tradition had been followed by them visiting us the next three Christmas as well. The city centre with colourful street lights, shapes and figures were sorts of unbelievable. I showed them the Chinese, Italian, Jewish quarters of the city with their different cuisine and decorations. Those cold white snowy nights were in contradiction to their warm climate at this time of the year. Drinking hot mulled wine was enough to make them tipsy. Opening the presents on Christmas morning was so exciting to see children faces blooming with those treatments from Santa was " something special," they said " We will never forget," Third year of their visit, we had a very bad winter. Those days direct flights to Manchester wasn't possible, the traveller had to fly to London to come to Manchester. I used to fly to London to fetch them and bring them home by train. It was more than a nine-hour trip for them including stops at the different airports. That particular day of returning, the weather was so bad snowstorms and blizzards flights were delayed. We had to spend ages in the airports to take off their flight home. Their travel apparently took twenty hours. On my way back to Manchester, I had to sleep in the airport as no flights were available that night. Experience of bad weather and delayed flights plus their age had stopped their Christmas vacation in Manchester. But when we were visiting them during Summer Holidays, dad always used to sing "Jingle Bells" every time he was driving us around the places. Children loved it.

When I am with my parents and discussing with them the problems of financing Christmas my father advice was " Steady son, just follow the rules especially if you are after happiness. Spending some time over here I realised you are on your own. All the different cultures have their own groups such as Chinese, Italians etc., they cook, eat, speak and support each other to prove that they are in the same flock of sheep in a different land. To keep the wolves away to stay alive. To be part of any group is difficult even if in your own country never mind in a foreign place. Try to establish your new self to improve your life maybe don't expect too much when you help somebody. It includes your family. As an outsider whole system looked as if it had been designed to commercialise the seasonal vocation while the same token to make somebody happy with their life. What I mean is, 'be charitable' which always starts at home. One day you will remember and appreciate my philosophy and understanding of Christmas and you will feel great with your spending and your feelings of annoyance with Father Christmas will change." It was the first time word 'Charity' meant something in my life.

Besides these lovely memories and advice of my father, my life at Christmas was miserable causing arguments with my wife of course. By the 1990s we had six children. The second generation had six years gap from the first three. We had two different present ranges, children and teenagers. The cost of presents exploded in time. Especially teenagers asking for top fashion goods, while children through TV requiring latest toys from Father Christmas. It meant using credit cards became essential and was the punishment to me for paying for debts of nightmares for the rest of the year. On top of that children's thinking, all these were gifts from Father Christmas still was annoying for me because they did not appreciate the financial burden. It took a long time to come to terms with it. It best happened when they grew up and realised and found out who was the real Father Christmas. By that time I had already changed mentally and had a new in me. I was looking forward to Christmas to give me a reason to help not only my family also somebody who was in need to be helped and needed to be happy. The realization that money was the mechanics of the society which was earned to spend to oil the wheels of the economy in return changed the life of the people. It was not just black and white or good versus bad. Christmas was created to make people spend and share their materialistic possessions for making others feel better.

It was ten years earlier, I had been diagnosed with oesophagus cancer. When I was in remission, I started raising money for the Cancer Hospital and the Royal College of Surgeons who saved my life. Later on, when my son passed away because of Brain Cancer I diverted my charitable work raising funds for Brain Cancer, Cancer research and St Francis Children Hospice. A piece of father advice given years ago suddenly was in action. I felt like a 'Secret Santa'. The difference was where his work finished in one day just making kids happy, mine was continued over the days, months and years. This was part of real me trying to make difference in the little society I was living in.

It has been many years, I am still an Alien in my adopted country. Such as Christmas, when was introduced in my life that made me a new person over time. When you live long enough to look back into your life's of ups or downs I found out I had always a new in me after each of them, they called it " Real Me experiences gained in the Life School which will only let you graduate when you pass away," I can only say " Life goes on my friend,".