Stop Being Mean to Yourself: A Story About Finding the True Meaning of Self-Love by Melody Beattie
Authors: Melody Beattie
Tags: Self-Help, Personal Growth, Self-acceptance, Self-Esteem, North, Beattie, Melody - Journeys - Africa
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my eyes. She wasn't avoiding me. She was following the customs of her culture, dancing to her country's rhythm.
When we crossed the street at the end of the row of shops, we found ourselves at the gateway to a park. The gate was locked. We clung to the fence, trying to peek inside. In the courtyard just on the other side of the gate, untended plants in a sprawling garden had intertwined themselves around majestic Grecian ruins, crumbling stone reminders of Greece's influence in Algeria's rich history. We stared through the fence for a while, then turned and began walking back to the car.
"This is a fun day," Fateh said earnestly. "We're having a good day, aren't we? We went to the country."
Nazil and I nodded.
"Yes, Fateh," I said. "This is fun."
We got back in the car. Fateh again fixed the collapsed seat, rolled the car until it started, then headed back to the highway.
Page 54
"We will drive down another road for a while," Fateh said.
He turned inland at a juncture, driving away from the sea, toward the ominous hills. After a while, he looped back in the direction of the city of Algiers. We drove past miles of expansive but desolate countryside, encountering few other vehicles along the way. Then, at a juncture where the intersecting road led directly to the hills, we pulled to a stop at a barricade.
This time I noticed I was holding my breath while I stared at the floor. I remembered the travel advisory warning about ambushes at false roadblocks. The gendarmes searched the car and waved us through.
"I love and respect my beautiful country," Nazil said after a while. "Terrible things have happened to my people. But the worst thing that has happened is that this has given them a spirit of vengeance.
" Vengeance ,"he said, "is not the purpose of what we are going through."
A heavy silence permeated the inside of the car. Then Nazil began speaking again.
"It is a tragedy what has happened to my country and my people. But the biggest damage is what's been done to our hearts. We don't even cry anymore when we hear of death. We have lived with the abnormal so long it's become normal. Our hearts have gone numb.
Page 55
"That is the real tragedy of Algiers."
We drove for a while, looking at barren fields and rolling hills. Nazil explained that despite the country's fertile land, Algeria now imported most of its food.
He pointed to a large, windowless building tucked into the landscape on our left.
"That is where they take the terrorists who have been captured," he said. "Once, a doctor treated an injured terrorist. The police arrested the doctor and put him in jail. Two men I know were arguing about it the other day," Nazil said. "One of them could not understand why they would put a doctor in jail for treating an injured man."
I noticed stretch after stretch of buildings, tenements that looked abandoned or destroyed. I asked Nazil what had happened, if this was the result of terrorism or something else. He told me that most of the vacant buildings were projects that builders had begun, then abandoned when they ran out of money.
"This has gone on for so long," I said. "Do your people still have hope?"
"Hope?" Nazil said. "Yes, we have hope. But we do not hope for an improvement in our economy. We no longer hope for more agriculture, or more art. We only hope that one day the terrorism will stop."
Fateh turned onto the coastal highway. As we neared the city of Algiers, we all began to relax. Nazil started Page 56
talking about college, about art classes he had taken, and about some of his friends from school. Soon after we reached the city limits, Fateh pulled the car to the side of the road by the harbor and told me we were dropping off Nazil. Fateh had to go to work.
Nazil told me how much he had enjoyed speaking English all day and that he hoped he had done a good job of expressing his thoughts to me.
I said he had done an excellent job and thanked him.
I pulled my purse out from under the car seat. "Can
When we crossed the street at the end of the row of shops, we found ourselves at the gateway to a park. The gate was locked. We clung to the fence, trying to peek inside. In the courtyard just on the other side of the gate, untended plants in a sprawling garden had intertwined themselves around majestic Grecian ruins, crumbling stone reminders of Greece's influence in Algeria's rich history. We stared through the fence for a while, then turned and began walking back to the car.
"This is a fun day," Fateh said earnestly. "We're having a good day, aren't we? We went to the country."
Nazil and I nodded.
"Yes, Fateh," I said. "This is fun."
We got back in the car. Fateh again fixed the collapsed seat, rolled the car until it started, then headed back to the highway.
Page 54
"We will drive down another road for a while," Fateh said.
He turned inland at a juncture, driving away from the sea, toward the ominous hills. After a while, he looped back in the direction of the city of Algiers. We drove past miles of expansive but desolate countryside, encountering few other vehicles along the way. Then, at a juncture where the intersecting road led directly to the hills, we pulled to a stop at a barricade.
This time I noticed I was holding my breath while I stared at the floor. I remembered the travel advisory warning about ambushes at false roadblocks. The gendarmes searched the car and waved us through.
"I love and respect my beautiful country," Nazil said after a while. "Terrible things have happened to my people. But the worst thing that has happened is that this has given them a spirit of vengeance.
" Vengeance ,"he said, "is not the purpose of what we are going through."
A heavy silence permeated the inside of the car. Then Nazil began speaking again.
"It is a tragedy what has happened to my country and my people. But the biggest damage is what's been done to our hearts. We don't even cry anymore when we hear of death. We have lived with the abnormal so long it's become normal. Our hearts have gone numb.
Page 55
"That is the real tragedy of Algiers."
We drove for a while, looking at barren fields and rolling hills. Nazil explained that despite the country's fertile land, Algeria now imported most of its food.
He pointed to a large, windowless building tucked into the landscape on our left.
"That is where they take the terrorists who have been captured," he said. "Once, a doctor treated an injured terrorist. The police arrested the doctor and put him in jail. Two men I know were arguing about it the other day," Nazil said. "One of them could not understand why they would put a doctor in jail for treating an injured man."
I noticed stretch after stretch of buildings, tenements that looked abandoned or destroyed. I asked Nazil what had happened, if this was the result of terrorism or something else. He told me that most of the vacant buildings were projects that builders had begun, then abandoned when they ran out of money.
"This has gone on for so long," I said. "Do your people still have hope?"
"Hope?" Nazil said. "Yes, we have hope. But we do not hope for an improvement in our economy. We no longer hope for more agriculture, or more art. We only hope that one day the terrorism will stop."
Fateh turned onto the coastal highway. As we neared the city of Algiers, we all began to relax. Nazil started Page 56
talking about college, about art classes he had taken, and about some of his friends from school. Soon after we reached the city limits, Fateh pulled the car to the side of the road by the harbor and told me we were dropping off Nazil. Fateh had to go to work.
Nazil told me how much he had enjoyed speaking English all day and that he hoped he had done a good job of expressing his thoughts to me.
I said he had done an excellent job and thanked him.
I pulled my purse out from under the car seat. "Can