The Umbilical cord
Even though I did everything to get my trip to America done, I could not have any idea of what my life out of Benin, my country and my homeland would mean. I was just excited that I was going to live in the world’s most famous country, America. Just by saying that, I could feel all respects I gained from people in my country. My thought was that I would soon become familiar with the most talented, the most famous personalities, and the most popular language, English, spoken worldwide. There was no doubt that I was going to get myself transformed in many ways, and far away from my native land. All those thoughts became accentuated when I said my farewell at the airport to my parents and relatives. At that time we had to leave each other, making myself a new life in an all new world was not as easy and clear as it was in my mind before. I felt like a baby who is about to go out of his mother’s body. I even felt like the umbilical cord had just been cut for good as my airplane took off, flying farther and farther from my family, my friends and my different social and religious groups.
I have been in United States for about two years already, but I still can feel like missing something precious in my life-My family. I mean my mother, my sister, and then my father. My mother was the only one who took my sister and I, from our village to the biggest economic city of my country when I was nine. And, while she sent us to school, my father whose business was more prosperous than my mother’s, didn’t care about our school and other expenses. I never looked for a job like I have done since I’ve been in America. All my needs were covered by my mother. All that my father cared about was having multiple wives and children. Although he didn’t take care of me, I have him in my heart because nothing can change the fact that he is my dad. Also, I remember that he always gave me the respect I deserved as the elder son. I was even proud that he forced my nine step brothers and sisters to call me not by my name, but by “big brother”. When I was in Benin I couldn’t have any problem like getting sick without having every family member around me, ready to be my hands and my legs until I got back on my feet. Due to this, I feel like I was a fetus connected to the placenta. Since I’ve been in America, I have had to do everything by myself without parents to care for me.
Beside my family, it is my friends that I also feel separated from. I have my friends from my childhood to my high school, and my cousin-friends from the both sides of my parents. They were almost all at the airport looking at me go away from them. They were friends of worth to me. I particularly miss the way we used to hang out with each other. We didn’t really need to make appointments before we visited each other. When I went to a friend’s house and he or she was not in, I would just hang out with his or her household. Without those friends, the two past New Years’ holidays I’ve spent in U.S have been like hell. If I was in Benin, I would spend the holidays with my friends , where I would have invited everybody to a party or some friends would have done that and I would have been from party to party or from party to club. Any time I was in trouble, it’s like all my friends were in trouble, so I automatically got their support. There is almost nothing more reliable than that one my trip to America could break up.
The social, cultural and spiritual parts of me have most likely received the separation shock as well. When I was in my country, I was involved in so many clubs and associations religious and non religious. The little shy boy I used to be in my childhood started becoming the public speaker and source of peace and joy everywhere I passed by. Due to the cultural clubs and associations in which I had to create magazines, organize public parties and public games, a lot of people got sad when they learned of my departure. I indeed felt the same way because of experiences I gained from those activities. In particular, the religious group that, I joined which was a chorus in my city was just what I needed to get a direction to my life. As a spokesman, I learned as much as I had to deal with the Bible. I even talked about it several times to millions people who needed consolation in their difficult times like in one’s relative death situation. I spent a least a quarter of my time each week in church life through my chorus. I loved praising the Lord in group as my chorus was known for in my country. All members of my chorus behaved like belonging to one and unique body. At times, I can still feel like I’m from that body too.

When I think about my family, my friends, and my different socio-cultural and religious groups, it’s now clear in my mind that I’m not connected to any “body” anymore. That time is over. The umbilical cord has already been cut off. So, like a baby disconnected and out of his mother’s body, I am out now in a new world that is America. I have to live here by myself. I have to work, support myself, take care of myself, and I will do so even if I’m sick. No more visits without appointments. Everything I do must be well thought out and planed. The only thing that remains, like a baby, is probably communication. That communication has to be well set up between my parents, my country and me.