Hi, I’m Dan or Magi. Neither Magi nor Dan are my real name. Since it’s another year of Blaugust, I figured I’d write an introduction again… and since a certain Canadian buddy of mine didn’t know that Dan isn’t actually my real name, I figured I’d start with that.
Note: This post isn't a real introduction but much rather a little comment on identity and reflection. I'll allude to racism at one point or another but beyond that, there shouldn't be any big triggering subjects in place. I'll talk about interests of mine and other things in another post eventually during Blaugust.
My parents are from Kosovo, but I was born and raised in Germany, hence making me a second-generation immigrant. I do have German citizenship, though, since I was born here, but the idea of nationality and identity is a bit more complex than that for me. Throughout my childhood, I was a foreigner through and through. In Germany, I was the Albanian guy. In Kosovo, I was the German guy. That kind of thing.
Eventually, I moved away from my hometown to a big city in North Rhine-Westphalia. Here, nobody really cares where I’m from or what I am. I’m just me. That’s a plus, I think, in the grand scheme of things… but I do miss living in a small town. The feeling of knowing everyone in the neighbourhood and the slow pace of life is something that I just don’t really have here.
In my hometown, I’d never return on time from work or school. I’d always end up in a lengthy conversation with neighbours of mine, tourists, shop owners or even the local pastor. In the city that I live in, I hardly know anyone. Heck, I don’t even know who lives in the flat next door or in the flats below me. You don’t really greet people on the streets, and people only greet you when they want to sell you something. It’s a bit bizarre.
It’s very anonymous and lonely at times, so living in a bigger city is a bit of a double-edged sword. Nobody cares about you but if you need help with directions or anything of the sort, people are quite unlikely to even look your way. It was a bit of a culture shock for me, at first, when I moved here and when I’d try to help every single person I came across.
“I was young and dumb. Nowadays, I’m just dumb”, I tend to say.
And these days, something that brings me the utmost joy is when I get asked where I’m from and people don’t actually care about my ethnicity or roots. Instead, they’re inquiring about my speech. When I just moved here, it was more extreme. My dialect was very clearly rural, even though I thought that I was speaking “normal German”. I felt embarrassed at the time.
Nowadays, I’m a bit sad that I forgot expressions from my local dialect… but when people at work or elsewhere realise that I’m not from this city originally and when they inquire from what other part of Germany I’m from, it gives me a sense of pride. I feel like I was actually at home in my hometown. It makes me feel more validated.
I became Dan because not being Dan made things uncomfortable.
Even with the people being fairly left-leaning, there are times when people have a hard time with foreigners. I pass as “German”-looking. I’m fairly pale after all, and my German’s great despite it being my second language. That said, at parties, my foreign-sounding name would raise eyebrows at parties. I’d get asked where I’m from and when I’d return. Surely, there is no ill will… but the benefit of the doubt only goes so far, right?
As such, I took a syllable from my name and went with that. At parties, I’m Dan. It’s easier. I don’t have to spell anything out for folks and go through all the uncomfortable and unimportant questions that people whose names I’ll forget the very next day might ask. And eventually, that kind of became my name online. It’s a nickname that brings me comfort.
I’m just Dan.
Magi, on the other hand, came from the German word for magician, “Magier”. I don’t know what game it was but I named someone there “Magier” but only four letters would fit. It could have been a high score in an arcade-style game or a pet or unit in some RPG. I wouldn’t know, it has been ages, after all. But “Magi” stuck with me ever since I was three, and when I got into Greek mythology, I added “mos” to it because I thought it sounded cool when I was six.
As I turned older, people didn’t really call me “Magimos”, though. The pronunciation of it was different every time I talked to folks but no matter what it was, it was a nickname that brought me comfort.
I’m just Magi.
TLDR: I yap a lot and think too much about unimportant things. Nice to meet you.
This post was originally written by Dan Dicere from Indiecator.
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