Freedom Wheels
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FREEDOM WHEELS Carmen Micsa B.A., California State University, Sacramento, 2009 PROJECT Submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of MASTER OF ARTS in ENGLISH (Creative Writing) at CALIFORNIA STATE UNIVERSITY, SACRAMENTO FALL 2011 FREEDOM WHEELS A Project by Carmen Micsa Approved by: __________________________________, Committee Chair Doug Rice __________________________________, Second Reader Joshua McKinney ____________________________ Date ii Student: Carmen Micsa I certify that this student has met the requirements for format contained in the University format manual, and that this project is suitable for shelving in the Library and credit is to be awarded for the project. __________________________, Graduate Coordinator __________________ David Toise Date Department of English iii Abstract of FREEDOM WHEELS by Carmen Micsa In my memoir, I analyze the topic of freedom: personal, political, philosophical, and psychological freedom. Through my immigration journey to the United States from my native country Romania I explore the multi-faceted notions of freedom, as I grapple with my new identity. While struggling to become part of a new country and leaving behind family, friends, and my Romanian heritage, I reflect on what it takes to be truly free. Is there such a thing as total freedom? Does happiness result from being free? To sum things up, my intention was to depict a universal journey of becoming a United States citizen, while trying to attain personal and spiritual freedom, even though in gaining freedom, I lost my old self. Yet, the promise of a better life was alluring and fulfilling. _______________________, Committee Chair Doug Rice _______________________ Date iv DEDICATION I am honored and humbled to dedicate my memoir Freedom Wheels to my beloved father Danut Gramatic who passed away at the young age of 53 while I was in America thousands of miles away from home. I will never forget his kindness and wisdom that have guided me through my life's journey. He was the one who taught me to always believe in myself and reach as high as I could to fulfill my dreams. I would also like to extend a heartfelt thank you to my mother Cezarina Gramatic who encouraged me to search for freedom and happiness in America. Another very important person in my life is my wonderful and supportive husband Catalin M. Micsa who has helped me become the person I am today. He will always be the bright shining light in my life, for which I am very grateful. I am also very proud to dedicate my story to our beautiful and smart children Alexander P. Micsa and Sophia I. Micsa, who were my main reason for going back to school. I am grateful for them always and I wish them to always be free, kind, and loving to one another. And least, but not last, I am very honored to dedicate my memoir to the people who brought us to the United States, our amazing friends, Joe and Gay Haldeman, to whom we will be forever grateful. v TABLE OF CONTENTS Page Dedication ................................................................................................................ v Chapter 1. GETTING LOST......................…………………………………………….. ........ 1 2. THE DEPARTURE ............................................................................................ 5 3. GUARDING CHILDHOOD ............................................................................. 10 4. NEW YORK'S SIGHTS AND FREEDOM ....................................................... 15 5. ATLANTA ........................................................................................................ 20 6. FLORIDA ......................................................................................................... 26 7. AMUSEMENT PARKS .................................................................................... 31 8. EXPLORATIONS ............................................................................................. 37 9. LIBRARIES AND BOOKSTORES .................................................................. 48 10. MY FIRST JOB ............................................................................................... 56 11. CALIFORNIA ................................................................................................... 65 12. WORKING AND REMINISCING .................................................................... 70 13. PAST AND PRESENT MEMORIES................................................................ 77 14. FREEDOM ROCKS .......................................................................................... 84 vi 1 Chapter 1 GETTING LOST I remember getting lost on my bike when I was seven. I was visiting my grandparents and cousins in Birlad, the Northern part region of Romania, called Moldavia. It was a warm summer day with very little wind. My Dad went out to meet some friends, so I decided to learn how to ride a dusty, old bike that I had found in my grandparents’ shed. It squeaked and creaked under my light weight, but I was determined to subdue it and ride it downhill, for my grandparents’ house was built on top of an unpaved, rocky hill. I fell more than five times, scraping my skinny knees on the rocks and loose gravel. However, after about 15 minutes of fighting to keep my balance, I rode my bike with ease and confidence. I avoided rocks and bumps in the road, and had a smooth ride. I talked to myself often, mainly shouting left-right orders, since I didn’t know much about the bike, other than it resembled an untamed horse. I was the jockey in the saddle who had to keep the bike straight and follow an imaginary line in the dust and dirt to avoid falling. During my bike ride through unpaved roads, I ended up in an unfamiliar neighborhood with derelict homes, overgrown lawns, stray dogs and cats in the streets, and clotheslines full of hideous shirts, skirts, and pants fluttering in the wind. That’s where the gypsies lived, I thought to myself, gripping and hugging the handlebars with resolute, but shaking hands. I can’t remember much, though, other than the thick dust that wrapped around me like a tight burrito. I coughed a lot, but stayed alert and pedaled my 2 bike with wide watermelon motions, until I finally broke up crying. Deep down, I felt I would find my way back to my grandparents’ house. Yet, for some odd reasons, I feared getting kidnapped by the gypsies and turned into a little gypsy, wearing colorful and strident long skirts, no panties underneath, as the rumors went around about them. Face smeared in soot, sleazy hair standing up, big earring hoops in my ears, I could see myself put out in the streets and turned into a beggar. After almost an hour of horror movies running through my head, I found my way back to my grandparents’ house - exhausted and short of breath. Returning home had been more rewarding than learning how to bike that day, which is why I forgot to tell my Dad. Instead, I told him that I would never get lost again, which obviously was far from the truth… Losing and finding ourselves is part of the ubiquitous labyrinth that lures us in and makes our lives a constant mystery. *** Train, plane, car, subway - a universal journey. We flew from Bucharest to New York, crossing the ocean for the first time. I had a strange feeling that I collided with the clouds - a unique and unforgettable merging. The people on the plane were Americans, Romanians, Germans, Indians, Asians, so we were all part of that big metal bird, whose pilots tried to fly it far from the sun. We arrived in Frankfurt in just two hours, where we stopped and changed planes. At the Frankfurt airport, everything around us was perfectly clean; it gave us shivers just to walk on that impeccable floor. Mircea impressed by that cleanliness just as much, exclaimed: “Here if you drop your ice-cream on the floor, you can pick it up and eat it.” 3 The trip to New York was long, but it didn’t lack a certain American flavor. On the plane we had all the necessary amenities on the plane, such as video, headphone radio, and, of course, American cuisine. We just loved the turkey sandwiches, which were quite a treat for us. My parents bought turkey on rare occasions like Christmas or New Year’s Eve because it was really expensive. We were only in our early twenties, but we had already experienced many frustrations. As a child, I had to accept the refusal of my wishes like having sweets, or a new toy, as if the refusal were part of my daily routine. That’s why I found myself dreaming of food frequently, since regular food was a treat, not a necessity, for most people during the communist era. Anyway, I understood this later, and was even pleased that my parents hadn’t spoiled me. More than that, they had given me the opportunity to see the world in its true light, leaving the make-believe aside. Not having all the goodies I wanted when I was a child, made me more grateful for what I received later. “We’re going to land in just a few minutes,” Mircea interrupted my revelry. “Stop dreaming, sweetie.” “All right,” I said, suddenly losing my interest in the food and everything else around us. I wanted to keep my eyes open as wide as possible to concentrate on New York City, which looked big even from the plane. Mircea was excited to get to New York, but I was simply restless. My green eyes, almost entirely red from traveling for fifteen hours, bulged out like a pair of binoculars. My whole body shook with excitement the same way a virgin shivers at her lover’s first touch - hands clapped together in a frantic applause, praising