Fidan i Jetës

The tree metaphor of this blog has in some ways chosen me just as much as I’ve chosen it.

I relocated to Skopje, Macedonia exactly 10 years ago next week.  Living as an ex-pat American lover of Jesus in the Balkans has been such a rich gift.  But that first year was like no other: adapting to this new culture, struggling to learn language, working long hours to keep our fledgling IT company above water, striving to form meaningful relationships with both local people and other ex-pats.  It's hard to find the words to express how very stretching, lonely, and exhausting that season was.

Thankfully I did make friends.  One of the new local friends that I’d made was having trouble remembering my name; every time we’d meet, she’d have to ask me.  Granted, “Beverly” is quite an unusual name here, though thanks to a small shopping mall in town called “Beverly Hills”, most people have at least heard it before.  But this friend lived in one of the villages just outside of the city, so she wasn’t acquainted with my famous namesake. Finally, after about 5 months of this “what was your name again?” cha-cha, she said, “That’s it.  I am not capable of remembering that name.  So I’ll just have to give you a new one.  You’re tall and thin,” and, compared to this short-ish, round-ish woman, I am rather tall and thin. “You’re just like a fidan, so I’ll call you Fidane.”  Fidan? That was a new word to me, so I asked her to explain what fidan meant.  “It’s a little tree, when it just begins to grow,” demonstrating with her thumb emerging from her clenched fist.  Ah, I get it, a sapling.

Perfect.  In so many ways.  Being given this name, Fidane (pronounced fee-DAWN-ay), was a gesture pointing out my foreignness and strangeness (in Albanian these are the same word), while simultaneously expressing acceptance and embrace despite my strangeness.  My heart is warmed and deeply grateful for how openly and generously so many families have opened their homes and lives to this stranger and welcomed me in.  And the name’s meaning, sapling, not only suits my physical appearance, but serves as a great metaphor for how I was feeling (and sometimes continue to feel) as I was struggling to adapt to my new world: weak and bendable, still green and wet and all potential, surrounded by towering giants and struggling to see the sun.

(Hence the URL for this blog is fidanijetes.blogspot.com.  “Fidan i jetës” means “Sapling of life.”)