Yize Feng Feng itibaren Aşağıkışlacık Köyü itibaren Aşağıkışlacık Köyü

The protagonist's father is Chinese but from Panama, her mother is German. They can barely communicate with each other, but somehow managed to fall in love in Germany, then out of love in Brooklyn. The book traces her life as she tries to interpret each of her parents' broken English, and her later romance with a Russian-speaking Ukranian gangster immigrant. I enjoyed it because of how it examines how language influences experience, as well as ideas of where home is, and what solace we can find there. A quick read, but rewarding. There are times when I seem to remember my mother as though she were a landscape rather than a person. Those blue eyes filled the entire sky of my childhood. About being mugged he says, "I can do same." The same? My heart is pounding. Does that mean he's going to rob people in his cab? He laughs. "No, of course not in cab." "But--you're going to mug people." "No, don't worry. I am not going to do it. I am not stupid. I don't have green card." "You need a green card to mug people." A bigger laugh. "I don't want to be deported." I give it a try: Doesn't he think that the men who robbed him were wrong, and that he was wrong to rob other people, and that the world would be a better place if we didn't do this sort of thing unto one another? But Vadim has his own spin on the golden rule: Today I am unlucky. Tomorrow it is someone else's turn to be unlucky.