A Dream From The Television

Uncle Jamil, Mama’s friend from childhood, is visiting today. He is from America. Arrangements were made with Mama and Papa, and he would arrive here by plane, an eighteen hour flight. He will stay here for a week. He will take up the room next to mine. It is the one that my younger brother used to occupy, before a deadly disease killed him. He says he doesn’t mind. That’s something he cannot let alter his decision to visit, he said. He said he would be alright. He told Mama not to worry. He doesn’t want his friend to worry much about him because he made the decision to visit. 

He is not really from America, his story goes deeper than that. His mother and father were richer than ours. I don’t remember what they were. They were both doctors or something like that. Since they were not that poor they had a choice to move to whatever country they liked. They chose the United States. They liked the country, they said. They would never go back home to Mowazabia, they said. Uncle Jamil and his family moved there when he was six. He lived there for many years, I don’t really know how many. He is more of an American now. My idea of America is from this old television we have in the couch room. In the mornings there would be the kitchen, Mama cooking something, Papa with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose reading the newspaper. I would be watching the television. Sometimes it would be news about America. It would talk about their famous leader, President Araceli. I find it hard to believe there is a person in the world who doesn’t know about Araceli. 

Uncle Jamil will be arriving soon. Mama is preparing a simple meal for him. We don’t have a lot of money and we cannot order him a large feast. I am sure he can order multiple, but he makes a lot of money in the United States. I think Mama said he was a professor. He teaches history to his students. Mama knows a lot about his life in America. She and him were close friends when they were small. When he moved away, they promised to tell each other things in the future, how their lives were like, and he promised he would visit one day. Today was that day. Over the years, they had sent letters to each other about the important things that happened to them. When Mama got her first job. When Uncle Jamil got his PhD, which Mama told me is a very big thing. Mama would always show the letters to Papa too, but he doesn’t like them. I don’t think he likes Uncle Jamil very much either, I don’t know why. When Mama told us he was visiting us, he said, “I would rather fall off Mount Kilimanjaro than let him visit.” Mama ignored him. I think she scolded him to be nice to her friend, too. Because now he would be sleeping in our apartment. 

“I think he has a gift for you,” Mama said to me. I was sitting on the old, creaky couch. I was watching the television. “Maybe he has snacks from the States.”

My eyes lit up. I know Uncle Jamil used to be almost as poor as us, when he used to live here. He’s successful now. He had a taste of America, and now he is bringing some of it to us. Literally. I wondered what they could be. 

The doorbell rang. Mama squealed in excitement, shouting at Papa to come to the door. I lowered the volume of the television, then got up from the couch. I went to the door. 

Mama was already helping him with his luggage, talking the whole time. The man was so happy to see her too. They had hugged and were still talking about things, catching up on years of experience. Papa came down and smiled, greeting him, shaking his hand. The man looked old, around the same age as my parents. He had grey hair and a grey beard and glasses like Papa. He was also just as tall as him too. He wore a long coat and a fedora. 

“So this is your son!” Uncle Jamil said when he saw me. “The one you wrote to me about. Kami, is that right?”

“Yes!” said Mama. “He’s a lovely young boy. He wants to be successful in the future, just like you.” 

That’s true, Mama. When I see the politicians in America, I am reminded of Uncle Jamil, and how they are all successful people. 

Uncle Jamil laughed. “Yes, my boy. It’s not easy. Although, I am not even the greatest Mowazabian American. You all know President Araceli. The famous leader who everyone knows changed the world. He’s the president, and he’s not even American! He was born here, in Mowazabia. He moved there with his mother and father when he was nine. The people love him so much, he was re-elected three times!”

I did not know much about Araceli. I certainly did not know that. It made sense Uncle Jamil would know so much about him. He lived in America. I was so interested to hear more, I asked, “What did he do that made people love him so much?”

Papa was bored. He did not want to hear more about him. “We don’t need to care that much. He abandoned his country and brought prosperity to another. Let’s stop talking about him.” 

I knew that a lot of people didn’t like that decision of his. But his success was too great, I heard. It did not matter that much now. They call him a world leader. He helps every nation in the world with his power, leading the most powerful country in the world.

“We can talk about Araceli later, Kami. Uncle Jamil just got here.” Mama smiled at him and lead him inside the apartment. We began dinner when everyone was settled. More talking came, and then the gifts. Mama was right, Uncle Jamil brought me candies from the United States. Chocolates and sweets I have never seen before. They were tasty, and I actually loved them a lot. The man wasn’t too bad, I don’t know why Papa didn’t like him that much. Maybe he was annoyed at how successful he was, coming from the same status and past as him. Maybe he was more mad at himself, for not being as good as him, not impressing Mama as much as him. But Uncle Jamil brought him a very expensive watch, and he brought Mama some jewelry. 

After dinner, I went to sit on the couch. I turned up the television’s volume, and this time, I wanted to watch American news. A long time passed of me watching while Mama and Papa entertained our guest at the dinner table. They talked and laughed together, eating dessert. Then soon they got tired, and Papa said he was going to sleep. Mama said she would fix Uncle Jamil’s room, and make sure the shower had hot water. I don’t think Uncle Jamil will like our place much. He must be used to lavish bathrooms with no plumbing problems and water from the sink clean enough to drink. I heard over there in America, they didn’t need to buy huge jugs of water for the water cooler. They could just get free water any time at the tap. 

Uncle Jamil came to rest in the couch room. He sighed, very relaxed, in his position on the singular couch. He smiled at me. I was just watching the television silently. Its lights were colourfully filling up the dark room, and it was just me and him. 

“Ah, you are watching American news?” he asked me. Truthfully, it took a while before I realized he was talking to me.

“Yes.”

“It’s always about Araceli, isn’t it?”

That was definitely agreeable. I asked him about the president. Asked him more about his story, what he did. I wanted to know because someday, I wanted to be like him.

“Oh, President K. Araceli is a lot of things,” he began. “He is a great man. A true inspiration. As I said before, he is Mowazabian. His family was poor when he was a child, and they went through much strife in their poverty. His younger brother even died to malaria. It’s been said he used to look at himself in the mirror and imagine himself in the future doing great things. Look at the TV.”

I did as he said. It was talking about Araceli and his past achievements. There were so many, and all of it was described in detail. I listened to the newsperson say them all. “He founded a tech company that was extremely successful. He revolutionized technology with it, creating innovations that helped people around the world. With his popularity, he was voted president. As president he did many things, such as increasing general public services, maximizing the economy, making inspiring and great decisions during war, as well as remaining pure and humble. How does he do it? And why does he help so many poor nations? Americans are beginning to believe foreign influence has finally gotten to him. He had made a statement long ago, a promise, that he would remain true to this country and its people, but that he is still truly American. Some people think he is helping poor nations because he is a good person. Some people think it is because of his story. Mr. K. Araceli, the president of the United States, is not an American. He was born in a poor country called Mowazabia. His country is among the poorest in the world. He recalls how in his home city, living was not easy. There was sickness, disease, malnutrition, droughts, corruption and crime. Nighttime was especially dangerous. There were murderers and muggers and sexual assaulters always roaming around. This nightmare was what caused his parents to try to bring their child to the United States. They wanted to give him a new life. They worked hard to bring him to America. He recalled packing his bags and staring at himself in the mirror before leaving to board the plane, overjoyed to start a new life. In the mirror he saw himself in the future, and how he would change the world. He has lived in America for decades now, and he founded his company before becoming interested in politics. Because of how popular he became, he became president, breaking constitutional rules made since the birth of the nation. A foreigner becoming the president! At the time, it was mad for people to accept the idea. But the majority agreed he was the best person to lead the country, even to lead the world. He was re-elected three times! A dozen years has passed, and he is still loved as president. But now he is getting old, and must step down soon.” Soon after, pictures and clips of Araceli appeared on the TV. I saw him waving to a cheering crowd as he made his way to an SUV. Bodyguards were all around, trying to hold them back.

Uncle Jamil said, “The people love him so much. He’s a dream, a legend. Everyone thinks of him as the greatest leader in history. The first world leader. It’s amazing to see how much he’s done. It truly is.”

“Uncle, he sounds too perfect!”

“That’s true. He sounds much too good to be true. He sounds, as I said, like the dream of a small child.”

I yawned. I did not want Uncle Jamil to think I was bored of the topic, but he understood I was just tired. “I want to go to America. Like you.”

He stared at me. “How old are you, Kami?”

“Nine years old.”

“Let me tell you something you’re not supposed to know until tomorrow. I did not come here just to visit, although I would have just the same. Your parents have been working very hard lately. For tickets to the United States. I am helping them move there, too. It will be expensive, but very much worth it.”

My mouth opened. “What? They never told me this!”

“Because they wanted it to be a surprise. At the end of my vacation we will all be going. They have the passports and the tickets that I helped them pay for.”
I never knew any of this was happening! I could not have been more happy, but I yawned once more. It was getting late and I should sleep. But there was something worrying me that made me want to think instead of sleep.

“I know I promised I would be successful to Mama and Papa, but I’m not sure I can prove myself when we move. I never went to school. Most of the things I know about the world are from the television. I don’t know if I’ll make them proud and be successful like you, or be successful at all. I want to be. I want to change the world too.”

“It’s a very long path,” the old man agreed. He shifted in his couch and tipped his fedora a little lower on his face, just covering his eyes. Then he lit a cigar. “Listen, Kami. On your path to success you will face pain and failure like nothing you’ve seen before. There will be people praying on your downfall. Drown their words out with your silent success. There will be people that will hate you because you are a foreigner and you don’t look like them or sound like them. Ignore them. You must let none of these things stop you from doing great things in the future. Yes, it is very hard to do something like become a president. But you are young.”

“I am just a kid, with a poor family, in a poor country. I have little power. If I want to become a president of a country, I don’t think I can.”

“That is true.” He yawned too, also tired. “Some people start with everything and end up with nothing. The opposite is no less possible. Some people start with nothing and end up with everything. Remember that. Now, your mother and I will go to the market early in the morning. It is best we both get some sleep.”

“Okay,” I said. 

I got off the couch. On the way to my room, I saw the giant mirror that stood against the wall in our hallway. We’ve had it there for as long as I can remember. I have always stared at it over the years to see how much my face changed, or how tall I’ve become, or if there is food stuck in my teeth. But this time was different. I went over to it and looked at myself and tried to imagine what I would look like in the future. Older and as a citizen of the United States.

While staring at my future self, I silently spoke to him. I was to make an oath, now, and make sure my future self heard it: I promised to be true to this country and its people. America might be my new home, but I promised to return and help Mowazabia as soon as I can. Maybe in my new home I will be blinded by the so-called paradise, or distracted by school or work, but I promised to never forget where I was born and where it all began. Just like President Araceli did.

Still staring at the mirror, the reflection started to swirl. I took a step back. My face morphed and what I saw surprised me. It was like I was still watching the television. It was all a very strange experience for me.

“Let’s go to bed.” Uncle Jamil was right behind me, gently easing me to my room.

“Uncle! Uncle! I just have one more question,” I said.

“Yes?”

I took some time to think. Then I said, “Who is President Araceli?”

He paused at the odd question. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

I smiled at him. When the day came that we were leaving for the plane, and my parents and Uncle Jamil were at the front, ready to leave, I was still in front of the mirror, a peculiar look on my face. I tilted my head sideways and moved my mouth to the opposite side. Just like that, my face transformed again. Just like I was still watching the television. Content, I grabbed the bag waiting for me by the door, having been packed the night before in excitement. My father took that as the sign to leave. I was ready to go, following him through the door.

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