Almost three months ago, I packed my suitcase — 30 kilograms holding 24 years of life — and headed to the airport with my family. I said goodbye to everyone: friends, relatives, and very emotionally, my tiny little room — my own personal Wonderland. Filled with big hopes and many small dreams, I flew to Prague.

Surprisingly, I adapted to this city faster than I ever expected — maybe even faster than I adapted to my hometown, Tbilisi. Perhaps it wasn’t just me. Maybe it was Prague itself: its organized environment, amazing public transport, and of course, the warmth of the Czech people.

Whenever I tell people here in Europe where I’m from, I start from the very beginning — because only then can they truly understand how much this opportunity from the European Solidarity Corps means to me.

I come from a very small and traditional community. My ancestors — Chechens — settled in the northeast of Georgia almost 300 years ago, in a small valley. Since then, this place has been the most cherished and beloved corner of the world for us. My community has preserved our culture and traditions for centuries, while also striving to live in harmony with the Georgian people.

When people learn about my cultural background, they often have a lot of questions. Many of them tell me that stories like mine make them reflect on how blessed they are — how many doors were open to them simply because they were born within the European Union.

My dear colleague Petra from INEX once asked me: “How does it feel to belong to two homelands, to represent two national identities?” I think that it’s a beautiful, meaningful, but also deeply emotional experience. Chechnya is my identity — a homeland I miss deeply and don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit it as a free land. Georgia is the country that raised me — its language, culture, and literature shaped who I am. It’s the kind of love you can’t explain — either you love your homeland, or you don’t.

In my community, it’s not common — and often not accepted — for girls to go abroad to study or work. When I told my family that I wanted to leave, even close relatives responded with skepticism, especially the women. Sadly, many women in my community were raised to believe that family and children are their only path. It’s hard for them to understand that younger generations might want to use the most beautiful and free years of their lives for something different, something of their own. But I was one of the few who dared. Now I live in the very reality little Mariam could barely believe in, though she always dreamed of it.

When I arrived, one of my colleagues at INEX told me that over 130 people from across Europe had applied for my ESC position. That was the first moment I truly realized: if you want something with all your heart, if you believe in it, it will happen. No matter where you come from or what your background is. That realization filled me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

I prepared for this move for almost five months, especially because of the long visa process. I always knew that I would have many cultural shocks, and that would change my values, my views, my whole worldview. One of the first cultural shocks was at the office — the way people work, communicate, respect work-life balance… For the first time in my life, I feel joy in what I do. I’m not stressed at work. I enjoy it — and that makes me truly happy.

Just recently, we had a vegan barbecue event at INEX — and the sky literally fell. It rained so hard that we couldn’t do most of the planned activities. But the event wasn’t canceled. That day gave me another cultural shock — a beautiful one. I remember going home that evening, telling my friends how amazed I was: people didn’t leave, despite the rain. They stayed. They made the best of it. I grilled vegetables and tofu, met inspiring people, and shared stories. It made me realize how powerful small, simple gatherings can be. I dream of bringing this kind of culture back to my country — to organize simple yet meaningful events with my incredible friends, where diverse and vibrant people come together, share their experiences, and build our community.

And Prague… I absolutely adore this city. Prague is the kind of place where people of all interests can find their own corner. It’s full of parks, fun and educational activities, historic streets, and stunning riverbanks. It’s changing weather and boats sailing in Vltava remind me one of my favourite cities in Georgia, Batumi, and I am so happy. 

Sometimes I feel that Europeans don’t fully appreciate everything they have — but then I realize it’s not a lack of appreciation, it’s a high level of civic awareness. For example, people around me openly criticize Prague’s transport system — not because it’s bad, but because they know it can be even better. That’s the biggest difference between my people and Europeans: we often settle for the minimum, and don’t believe we deserve more. Czechs know they do.

These past three months have already changed so much in my life. I’m growing, both professionally and personally. I’m discovering myself. And when the time comes to return home, I know my suitcase will be filled with warm memories, amazing new friends, valuable experience, and a version of myself that little Mariam would be proud of.

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