What a Brazilian Woman Learned With an Illegal Albanian Immigrant in The UK
In almost 30 years of my life, I never heard about a country called Albania. And I come from an Italian family and have Italian citizenship. The first time I met an Albanian, I was ashamed of the fact I never heard about their country, mostly for the fact that it is so close to Italy. But a good thing about the fact that I didn’t know anything about Albanian people is that I couldn’t judge them.
I am an immigrant in the UK after moving here more than five years ago, and I wrote before that being an immigrant means different things to different people. Every single immigrant is unique. Unfortunately, when you come from a different culture, people will judge you, mostly because of an idea that they created in their minds about your country and your culture. You are not a person. You are a nation and therefore care on your shoulders their stigma.
In the UK, as a Brazilian, I haven’t been judged too much because the Brazilian community in the UK is not that big. On the other hand, in Portugal, where the Brazilian community is huge, Brazilians suffer a lot from prejudice and discrimination. In summary, the bigger the connection between countries, mostly historically, the more likely the presence of judgement.
When I was divorcing my ex-husband in the UK, I was really worried about my immigration status in the UK. During this time, I used to go to a Brazilian Immigration Specialist to ask for advice and how to proceed correctly. Right beside their office, there was a food shop, and it was there that I met an illegal Albanian immigrant.
Differently from me, he came to the UK under a truck, spending days without being able to sleep, eat, or use the bathroom. But also different from me, he has family in the UK, I am here alone. So again, every immigrant is different. We became friends. In the past, I was still a talkative, friendly Brazilian, and every person was a friendship opportunity (now this has changed). I never saw him as a “dangerous” Albanian, someone I needed to be afraid of. I saw him as an Immigrant like me.
He taught me to see beyond nationality. And this is only possible when you are an immigrant meeting other immigrants. In Brazil, I will be in a position of power because I am Brazilian, and I can’t relate to an immigrant there, but outside Brazil, I can. I can feel the pain of all immigrants because I am one, and even though all immigrants come with unique stories, we are united by the fact we are outside home trying to live in a land that is not ours. More or less, we have the same struggles.
I can only live in the UK because I have Italian citizenship. I know this is a privilege. My illegal Albanian friend had a fake Italian ID, and this allowed him to be paid. He made more money than me, but I can’t compare our lives because I can lay down every night in some sort of peace, knowing I have the right to be in the UK.
After a year of friendship, he asked me if I could marry him for him to become legal. I was then divorced, and I told him I would never do that, being within the law is my main priority as an immigrant in the UK.
In addition, I probably would never get married again, and I wish I could help him, but I couldn’t sell my freedom. It’s priceless. We stopped talking, and the last time I saw him, he pretended not to see me and tried to ignore me. I reached to him and said, don’t you remember me?
I like to believe that for a time we were friends, that he didn’t see me as a passport. I never saw him as one.