tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48286211535719557712024-03-13T03:22:56.593-07:00Bittersweet Life Stories from AustraliaIt is near impossible to look straight at the silvery streak painted across the ocean by the still-blazing sun as it slinks slowly towards the horizon. Another hot Australian Summer Day slowly disapears into the another balmy clear night.... I slowly turned back and head towards my small beach holiday cottage looming above me in sand dunes.
It is time to continue on my story...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-8960539638128658532013-04-06T01:40:00.001-07:002013-04-06T01:40:45.129-07:00I saved a dolphin...<br />
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Saranda clicked on the screen but there was no message. She sighed iwth slight dissapointment as she loved to read about the little fishing community on the outskirt of Jakarta where Tri lived, but she knew that was not always easy for her to get to computer. Looking at the earlier sent images of the island's paradise lost in the lavish green palms she felt sudden surge to be there. She had no idea that soon one of those peaceful islands would be engulfed in terror. Once she would visit Tri, she thought. Once she would come back to Kosovo to visit Grannys grave, once when there would be no more war...<br />
<br />
"Saranda, phone, where are you?" Dardon't exciting voice disturbed her thinking.<br />
<br />
"Coming," she shouted rushing to living room: "Who is it?" she mimicked at Dardon.<br />
<br />
"Find for yourself," he only grimaced at her cheeckily and rushed off. She could stand him less and less and it seemed to her that by growin up they also grew more and more apart. She picked up the receiver: "Hello...Jack!" She gasped without knowing what to tell.<br />
<br />
"Just checking in how you going," he paused: "Have you seen Kathy?"<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
"No, last time in hospital, I reckon she is back home with all her family around her..."<br />
<br />
"She is not there any more, I popped in yesterday," he swore quietly, "I reckon patched herself up and back on steet."<br />
<br />
"Kathy will be allright," Saranda tried to cheer him up.<br />
<br />
"Sure, by the way, today's surf was a real ripper, the waves biggest I 've seen in ages, I thought you<br />
would like to try..."<br />
<br />
"Surfing," Saranda gulped: "Never done it in my life, it's starting to be cold again.<br />
<br />
"Never cold up there, you should see a bunch of yahoos I had there today," Jack continued: "I do some surfing lessons for pocket money, so I don't need to ask old man for any favours..."<br />
<br />
"Hmm," she sighed in the receiver unsure what to say.<br />
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<br />
"I go, any way, you there sometimes next week, it's top of the wozza, but only early in the morning."<br />
<br />
"Okey," she replied quietly.<br />
<br />
And she was, the first thing in the morning, next Satruday, excusing herself from home to see Doha urgently due to school assignment.<br />
<br />
The water was cold and she shivered in grey stillness around her. The ocean was quiet and all sounds were hushed in this early hours. She started to walk along the water edge not knowing what to do. She forgot to ask him about the place assuming as always their beach. But today it looked different here, somehow ghostly without life.<br />
<br />
The fresh wind blew from the ocean swirling mirror like surface and Saranda speeded up in an attempt to warm herself up. Her legs started to ache and she was about to turn back when a grey blob on the shore caught her interest.<br />
<br />
It could be a whale, she thought while squirting her eyes to see it better. Closing her distance she recognized a human figure. She speeded up again and approached a middle-aged woman covered in sand trying to dig a hole under trapped dolphin.<br />
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<br />
Without question Saranda kneeled on other side and with all her might kept digging under this cold silvery still body. Near the exhaustion she supported her head for a while on that slippery back looking straight into deeply sad eye of stranded animal.<br />
It prompted her to dig and push more.<br />
<br />
"Push," clenched her teeth the woman opposite and she followed the order as hard as she could. When finally the animal moved slowly in low water, Saranda slipped and fell down into the cold water. In desperate need of rest she barely felt gentle waves washing over her. Saranda turned her head slowly to watch the woman over the waist in the water urging the dolphin to swim away.<br />
<br />
Finally she came over and got hold of her: "We did it."<br />
<br />
Saranda sighed and struggled in the water to stand up.<br />
<br />
"We did it," she shouted again and hugged approaching Saranda, who smiled shyly at her.<br />
<br />
"Yes, it's great."<br />
<br />
The woman nodded and waved her good bye, starting to jog along the beach in the opposite direction. Saranda stood there for a while, until the dripping clothes made her shiver and she dragged slowly back.<br />
<br />
Approaching George's house she noticed his car leaving in a distance. Saranda paused for a moment, looking at her wet sandy hair and clothes. Finally she moved on and rang a bell. When Jack opened the door in utter surprise she threw herself nto his arm with two words: "I saved a dolphin."<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-31584882255805425002012-11-28T06:37:00.001-08:002013-04-06T01:04:09.977-07:00I will survive... <br />
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<br />
It didn't work out. It had been nearly three months what Jenny moved to Lisa's house and Saranda from time to time came to visit her and now she stayed there overnight. Her first sleep-over, she thought sleepily watching midday air still burning outside. Jenny and her flattery girlfriends screaming in front of some horror movie gulping down chips and coke.<br />
<br />
"How was it, party girl?" Lisa asked driving her back home: "And you wear your scarf, that will make your mum happy, oh, Ilja stop playing with that radio, it's already broken," she looked crossly at the red head boy, who kept turning on the music.<br />
<br />
"She urged me to do it but I would have done so anyway on this occasion, not because of my religion as you would think, but to show your niece and girls something different...at least I didn't need to worry about the hair style."<br />
<br />
"Good on you, lass, I bet you shattered them from their self indulgence." Lisa chuckled as she turned on the last roundabout towards their street: "I hope they haven't been nasty to you?"<br />
<br />
"Is that Dardon's house?" Ilja kept jumping of his seat.<br />
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<br />
"The one on the end," Saranda pointed on the right, then catching Lisa's cheeky wink she smiled: "Not really, there is no such a difference between us, you know, and some horror movies are pretty cool, good Dad was not there, but..."<br />
<br />
Lisa chuckled again. And Ilja turned around and pulled jokingly one end of her scarf.<br />
<br />
"Stop, Ilja," she slapped his hand and he turned back laughingly, looking back at Lisa she said: "Anyway I am not going to wear a scarf once I finish the College, Mum didn't wear it until we came here."<br />
<br />
Lisa didn't answer.<br />
<br />
The road stretched before them and the deserted front yard hazed in the shimmering sun.<br />
<br />
"Which one did you say it was?" Ilja looked at Saranda impatiently.<br />
<br />
"Pick one, they look the same anyway," she grimaced at him happy to return his naughtiness. She found as annoying as her brother. They found each other she thought annoyed.<br />
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<br />
Suddenly Sarand caught her favourite song on the radio and pointed on Ilja to turn it on. "I will survive..." she hummed for herself and LIsa soon joined with her deep baritone. Ilja joined in with his fancy dancing pretending to be a drug queen.<br />
<br />
"I bet your Dad would not like that," Lisa winked at her when the song finished.<br />
<br />
"Do you think I will survive that censorship?" Saranda lifted her chin and tried to grin back.<br />
<br />
"You're already your own person, you will survive everything." Lisa smiled at her encouragingly when she stopped the car in front of her house.<br />
<br />
"Hey, Ilja, look, a war in Afganistan," Dardon turned to them from TV, when they entered the living room.<br />
<br />
"Brrrm, these machine guns our Serbs used to..." Ilja pretended to shoot.<br />
<br />
"Yes, you bastard, on our people they shoot," Dardon jumped on him and they both fell on the floor hitting each other with their fists.<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Stop you two, you should be ashamed of yourself, you are both Australians," Lisa caught their arms trying to avoid their fists btu Dardon's swinging hand landed jsut below her eye: "Auch."<br />
<br />
"Ooops, I am so sorry Lisa, " Dardon stopped as a frozen and Ilja followed his example.<br />
<br />
"What's going on?" Dad appeared in the doorway coming back from Mosque.<br />
<br />
"I have been caught in a war, I believe," Lisa sighed and winked at Dardon who rushed to her with a wet towel: "Off you go boys, go and play outside, as I am not ready for another blow." And they disappeared through the back door before she finished the sentence.<br />
<br />
"Look at that," Lisa pointed on the TV showing women covered from head to toe in their burgas. Dad sat and watched the images without saying anything. Lisa secretly smiled at Saranda as she joined him on the sofa and continued in her conversation: "You have to admit, that these women are oppessed and that mem can be at fault."<br />
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<br />
<br />
Saranda sat there too in the corner curious on Dad's response.<br />
<br />
"Without doubt, Lisa, but this had nothing to do with Islam's teaching," her Dad sighed watching Taliban's guerrillas, "such people are influenced by their culture and their way of thinking, not because they are true Muslims."<br />
<br />
"Do you sympathise with them?" Lisa asked pointing at the fighters: "On the end, they are just protecting their homeland against another power."<br />
<br />
"They are involved in terrorism, how can I sympathise with them?" He looked up at Lisa waiting for answer, when she burst out laughing: "Saranda, your Dad is too clever for me, where is your Mum?"<br />
<br />
"I think, she is with Victor, it's time for his nap," Saranda stood up and looked at Dad: "Can I go and use Internet, I want to check up if there is a message from Tri."<br />
<br />
Dad nodded without taking his eyes from the images of fighting. Lisa left the sofa too and tiptoed through the corridor: "I am going to check on your Mum, it is time for our English lessons." She winked on passing Saranda as she quietly opened the door on Victor's room.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-9504983997647271782012-11-28T05:18:00.000-08:002012-11-28T05:26:09.777-08:00JENNY (January 2002) <br />
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<br />
Opening the front door she could recognize Lisa's chatter and Mum's relaxed laughter. They have been sitting on the couch sipping Mum's black tea. And there was someone else, a squat girl about her age in a girlish bright outfit strolling around their lounge room with a boredoom look at her face.<br />
She stopped casually near Victor playing with blocks. He watched her cautiously for a while and then opened his mouth.<br />
<br />
"Victor, it is rude to stuck your tongue out at people," Mum suddenly hammered at him and he quickly ran to find refuge in the Saranda's arm. Mum smiled at her warmly but then she noticed her hair tight in a bun and her expression changed:<br />
<br />
"Saranda, where is your hijab?"<br />
<br />
Saranda quickly took her veil from her pocket not knowing what to say. Victor grabbed it from her hand and tried to put it on. Saranda felt uncomfortable as everyone was watching in silence. Fortunately Lisa came to her rescue:<br />
<br />
"Hullo my darling," she waved her plump arm at her and then turned to the girl: "Look Jenny, here she is, Saranda I have been talking you about, you make wonderful friends."<br />
<br />
"Hi," The girl looked Saranda up and down.<br />
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<br />
"Hi," Saranda replied quietly and then kneeled to Victor to take her veil back: "It's not for you, you silly Billy." She put her veil safely back in her pocket and then pinched Victor's sulky face: "Go play Victor."<br />
<br />
Victor ran to Mum, who watched her with silent disapproval.<br />
<br />
"It's stuffy in here," Jenny sneered.<br />
<br />
"Oh, Jenny you are too wrapped up in yourself," Lisa smiled wholeheartedly at her then she faced Saranda: "This is my niece Jenny, she's won the state dancing competition this year and also she is best in her year level, ones would not believe how she can do it..." Lisa admiringly looked at Jenny, who ignored them now, watching closely her reflection in the window.<br />
<br />
"Saranda please take Jenny to a kitchen to have a cool drink and then show her your room perhaps," Mum looked at Saranda sternly expecting no refusal.<br />
<br />
Saranda sighed and moved slowly towards her room. The girl followed her suddenly talking fast:<br />
<br />
"How can you stand this, so dark here and what is that strange smell," she wriggled her nose as they passed kitchen: "Lisa has told me you hae strange customs, that old cow thinks its fabulous."<br />
<br />
Once in Saranda's room she moved around touching staff with open curiosity.<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Look what you have here - you're such a banger," she touched her old scruffy teddy bear.<br />
<br />
"Cut it out," Saranda grabbed it out of her hands.<br />
<br />
"Sorry," she raised her arms in pretended defence: "And that mother of yours, she is so old fashioned, you know, I bet your father..."<br />
<br />
"What?" Saranda hissed at her.<br />
<br />
"Oh, nothing," Jenny turned around to touch Star Wars posters: "That's cool, we can go to movies, if you want, another episode is coming out."<br />
<br />
"I don't think so."<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Why not?" Jenny grimaced watching her nails closely: "Do you have any green nail polish by any chance, any will do, I am not fussy...but Lisa she has only that boring purple..."<br />
<br />
Saranda shook her head and asked to change the subject quickly: "And what about your parents?"<br />
<br />
"What about them?" She looked at Saranda with disbelief on unusual question: "Dad bought me a new DVD player, come over for a movie night...it's so quiet there now when they split up..."<br />
<br />
"You mean they divorced?"<br />
<br />
"They never married," Jenny pulled her lips to kiss her reflection in the window leaving the wet pink mark where her lips were: "Look this lipstick is really nice, it only cost me four bucks..."<br />
<br />
Saranda looked at her with silent question in her eyes so she sighed and continued: "Dad is a bit of a drongo, you know, putting up with Mum's earbashing for so long, finally it's over." She grimaced painfully.<br />
<br />
Saranda said nothing.<br />
<br />
"Anyway, who cares, I 'm going to move out with some friends..." she stretched on Saranda's bed expecting her to be shocked: "I hope it'll work out and I don't end up at my aunties' dreadful place."<br />
<br />
But Saranda just kept watching her.<br />
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<br />
"Jenny, sweetheart, move on," Lisa cheerful voice echoed in teh corridor.<br />
<br />
"Hey? I didn't hear what you said." Jenny shouted back grinning wildly and turned back to Saranda: "So, what about watcing Jeepers Creepers at my new place, righto?"<br />
<br />
"Jenny," Lisa opened to door and pointed at her playfully: "I knew you would be best of friends," she turned to Saranda: "She is a bit or a stirrer, you know, but good hearted like her auntie."<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-45229177733513455642012-08-28T04:08:00.001-07:002012-08-28T08:15:04.779-07:00Fear is a part of survival (December 2001)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
Saranda really missed Jack and Kathy. She hadn't seen them from the Citizenship ceremony. She only exchanged few words with Jack that evening. He was all fed up with George's nagging and worried about Kathy. She had no time to describe Kathy's mysterious appearance in front of the Council and promised herself to tell him about it later. But there was no later. Saranda sometimes absend minded picked up the phone to call him, but decided against it. Ded refused to buy her a mobile, which he called a modern teenager's disease. She hated the idea of having a conversation with Jack, with all her family around. Somehow it didn't seem appropriate.<br />
<br />
"Hey, are you deaf?" Dardon entered the living room: "Mum's calling you one hundred times, she wants you to take the finished hats to Dora's."<br />
<br />
"Sure," Saranda sat up hanging the phone down.<br />
<br />
"Who are you calling to?"<br />
<br />
"Mmm?" Saranda was still staring at the phone: "No one, and anyway none of your business," she stood up gazing out the window on the darkening sky: "Tell Mum, I am ready."<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
The bus rolled and wondered through the dark streets. She delivered the hats to the Abuh Ahmed's wife and stayed for a while to drink tea and pray. She supposed to work on the joined assignment with Doha, but excused herself with a headache. Doha observed her quizzically but didn't press any questions and Saranda was grateful for that. She turned around to see her standing sadly in front of the Abuh Ahmed's white house. Her white veil was flattering gently in the evening breeze. Saranda lifted her hand to wave, but it was too dark to see if Doha waved back. Oh, there it is. The bus stopped in halt and she quickly got off. She entered the station in a hurry and quickly jumped in the train leaving for Fremantle. Looking out the window on the passing lights of dark suburbs she thought about Doha again. She was a good friend btu there were things she couldn't understand. Saranda couldn't explain it even to herself, her need for freedom and acceptance. Not only among her Muslim friends, but everyone. The train stopped on the final station and she hurriedly jumped off. Walking through a cappuccino strip she tried hard to remember the name of the street where George lived. I think is this one, she told herself and turned to right. Looking at some lighten up appartments she thought about Jack. He would understand. Finally her eyes caught the familiar George's balcony. All she had to do now was knock on the door and say: "I need to see you, Jack." But it would be embarrassing. She knew she couldn't do it. While she yearned for Jack to notice her outside, there was also a part of her that dreaded that. It was a very strange thing that you could both want and fear something at the same time. Saranda stood there for a while starring into dimly lit window and then turned back.<br />
<br />
Entering her home again she felt plainly stupid and tried to avoid the noisy living room, but Dardon crossed her path excitedly, before she had a chance to disappear in her room:<br />
<br />
"Guess what, Jack called you, right after you left, he wants to meet you tomorrow at 4 pm at some beach, he said something about a crab or something, you supposed to know which one."<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
---------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Jack was approaching her form the ocean, big waves splashed around him unnoticed. One look at his face told Saranda that something is wrong.<br />
<br />
"Hey, your board, mate," One of the passing surfers showed the surfboard to him. Jack's face lit up for a moment as he touched one thing he knew and understood.<br />
<br />
"There isn't any trouble at home is there?" Saranda asked carefully when he was close enough to hear her.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, I'm the trouble, I left Kathy in a deep shit to help my father to feel good about himself," he looked at her sharply, a thousand of drops from his wet hair were dripping on her shirt: "Is that answer your question?"<br />
<br />
Saranda shuddered from cold: "Kathy doesn't need you, she told me anyway, she is happy for you to be back home."<br />
<br />
"How do you know?" He snapped back: "Why is she in hospital then?" Jack shook himself violently.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Was she injured in some accident?" Saranda asked in alarm ignoring the cold shower.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, the accident she directed herself."<br />
<br />
"What do you mean, was she upset because of that terrorist attack?"<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
"September 11, they blame all Muslims for that," Saranda added sadly.<br />
<br />
"Oh, that stuff," Jack shrugged: "Can't say I've been following it."<br />
<br />
They watched ocean in silence. Suddenly Saranda reaized what he meant: "She is in hospital because of drugs, isn't she?"<br />
<br />
"Bloody Freo Hospital, they didn't allow me to see her...cause she is in a critical condition and I am not her close family, bugger it," Jack kicked the sand and rushed up the hill leaving her behind.<br />
<br />
Saranda ran after him talking to herself: "Why she keeps taking that stuff, that sort of things can kill you and anyway it's against ..."<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Against what?" Jack suddenly turned to her savagely: "Your God probably, you know, that stuff is her God and only God she knows." He waved his hand impatiently" Anyway how could you understand, I have to go..." Jack turned around to continue in walking and his last words were lost in wind.<br />
<br />
"I try to see here," Saranda caught up with him: "Where are you going?"<br />
<br />
Jack told her. The name meant nothing to her. Soem excellent surfing spot in Secret Harbour. She watched him to leave with others. Saranda looked around the deserted beach like she had been here for the first time. No, they had been here one time before, the three of them...but that was so long ago it was hard to imagine that it really happened.<br />
<br />
----------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Lost in her thoughts she left the beach behind and entered one of the side street. An old lady was watching her from her flowered front yard. Her pale eyes under the wrinkled skin were full of contentment. Saranda smiled at her wondering if she would ever find that peace.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
At the far end of the street she was stuck in the middle of traffic noise and rushing people. The silver roofs of the hospital shimmered in the distance. Suddenly among the strangers she recognised the familiar dark face. The kind smile unveiled the missing front tooth.<br />
<br />
"Uncle Toby," Saranda waved excitedly rushing through the busy street toward him.<br />
<br />
An approaching car stopped in a halt and annoyed driver shouted obscenities on her.<br />
<br />
"Mija Kajii's friend must be careful, there is no time yet for her to let her spirit go," he nodded thoughtfully and continued on his way to the hospital. Saranda nealry lost her breath trying to follow his lanky old figure in a shabby T-shirt and thongs. Once in the hospital hes swift walk changed to shuffle and Saranda watched in a surprise as he stood patiently near a reception desk, waiting for a busy receptionist to take notice of him. She ignored him for quite while. Finally he was instructed where to go and Saranda shyly followed him. The second floor was full of Aboriginal relatives who shouted greetings to Uncle Toby. He pushed her forward ignoring their suprised looks.<br />
<br />
To Saranda's amazement he took the veil, she gave to him on her visit, from his pocket and waved at everyone: "She is Kathy's friend, Mija Kajjii's friend."<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
She entered the disinfected room with four hospital beds and smile embarrassingly at the lady lying on one near the door reading 'Women's Weekly.'<br />
<br />
"Saranda is that you?" Kathy waved at her from the bed in the corner rattling with her infusion tube:<br />
"What the hell yu doing here?" She looked white as the room around her but her eyes were full of life as always.<br />
<br />
"Kathy, what's happened?" Saranda sat on the plastic chair next to her: "Are you all right?" She smoothed the blanket, avoiding look at Kathy's arms full of red patches: "Jack worries about you and your family..."<br />
<br />
"Yep, they are here all the time, I've shouted at them to leave me alone for a while as these stuffy ones constantly complain..." She spread her arm as wide as she could with the attached infusion to point on the three ladies on other beds, who tried to ignore her, changing the looks of discomfort over the magazines.<br />
<br />
"But why, Kathy why?" Saranda looked up closely at her.<br />
<br />
"Why, why, you nagging like auntie Annie," she suddenly turned to Saranda with her characteristic cheeky grin: "Listen to this," she coughed little bit to clear her voice and started to proclaim slowly: "These are my eyes, this is my brain I don't need to get hooked on any drug or alcohol to feel happy and relaxing."<br />
<br />
Saranda nodded seriously and Kathy burst in a wild laugh.<br />
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<br />
<br />
"You see, everything is fine, under control...I can stop if I want to..."<br />
<br />
"Do you?" Saranda kept looking at her closely.<br />
<br />
"Oh, stop nagging, drop it and tell me about Jack..."<br />
<br />
"Sorry girls to interrupt your conversation but it's time for a needle, excuse us," the middle aged nurse came in and swiftly started to close the white curtains around the bed without interrrupting her talk: "Kathy you and your lot have to understand the rules, no more visitors." Saranda jumped out of the seat and touched Kathy's hand in a hurried farewell.<br />
<br />
"Saranda," Kathy's voice changed suddenly sounding more like a little kid's plea for help: "I am scared."<br />
<br />
"Calm down, Kathy," the nurse kept talking to her soothingly while preparing an injection: "There is nothing as frightening as fear itself."<br />
<br />
Without thinking Saranda took her golden chain off her neck and placed it gently in Kathy's opened palm: "Just be happy yourself again, this golden sun can help you, do you remember my story?"<br />
<br />
Kathy starred at her without reply.<br />
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<br />
<br />
Saranda quickly turned around to hide her tears. Before leaving she looked back to see Kathy examining closely the golden sun. Her eyes shined strangely.<br />
<br />
Saranda hurried down the corridor ignoring the group of Kathy's relatives still talking near the exit door. Uncle Toby was nowhere to be seen. The little black girl in a billabong worn out T-shirt pushed the glass door for her. She had Kathy's cheeky eyes and curly dancing hair, but her face was full of childish trust and innocence, which Kathy had already lost on her way to adulthood.<br />
<br />
Once outside the hospital she took a deep breath and touched the empty place around her neck. Her Granny would understand. She would like Kathy to be free from the demons of the present and the past.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-18964261748359666332012-07-02T05:44:00.001-07:002012-07-02T07:00:08.754-07:00Choose who you want to please your God or your country?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Saranda would always remember the following week. Dad was on the verge of a<br />
nervous breakdown because of the threatening messages the College kept receiving.<br />
One morning while entering the college she and Dardon joined the row of gleeful<br />
faces stickybeak in through the office window because of a sudden rumour that<br />
someone had broke in and wrote a couple of hateful messages all over the walls.<br />
Principal repeated at every assembly they shouldn't be worried when people abused<br />
them on the streets because God is on their side. What does God have to do with this?<br />
Saranda kept asking herself. Dardon seemed unaware of whole situation, until one<br />
afternoon she found him waiting in front of his school in a gloomy mood. She was<br />
surprised, as he had boasted all day yesterday about his school excursion to Perth ZOO.<br />
<br />
"What's happened Dardon?"<br />
<br />
"Nothing," he snapped back and rushed out of the gate.<br />
<br />
"And what about your excursion?" She yelled as she walked slowly after him. He<br />
knew she refused to run on the streets like a child.<br />
<br />
"It was boring, walking around and gazing at those animals," he answered when<br />
she caught up with him on the bus stop.<br />
<br />
She looked up at him in open amusement. Dardon had always enjoyed the ZOO, it<br />
was her complaining about walking around. He stared at the boy about her age<br />
across the street. The boy made a rude gesture, laughed and moved on. Dardon<br />
watched him to leave: "People gazed at us, some behaved like him..."<br />
<br />
The bus arrived and Dardon sat at the front ignoring people and kids around. Back<br />
home he stomped straight into his room banging the door behind him. Saranda hugged<br />
Victor who was playing with his favourite blocks. Mum was sitting next to him<br />
sewing some ornaments on a boy's praying hat.<br />
<br />
Saranda touched the velvet and smiled: "I wish I could sew."<br />
<br />
"You need to be more patient for that, Saranda," Mum looked up at her and<br />
smiled: "I can ask the Abuh Ahmed's wife to give you some work, you can earn<br />
some pocket money..."<br />
<br />
"No, Mum I don't think so." Saranda waved her hand. Victor came to her and<br />
handed her the couple of blocks. "BOOOM!" He shouted excitedly when she built<br />
the tower, so he could smash it down.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Mum and Victor seemed to be carrying on as if nothing had happened, locked in their<br />
own world, Saranda wondered, when Mum suddenly asked: "What's wrong with<br />
Dardon, is he sick?"<br />
<br />
"No," Saranda shook her head resolutely: "Only upset about something."<br />
<br />
"Dad is upset too." Mum sighed: "Dardon's teacher complained about him, the<br />
only subject he is switched on is sport."<br />
<br />
"That's not what I am upset about," Dardon entered the living room sulkily: "It's<br />
not fair, I'm all fired up at those mean people, they are so horrible."<br />
<br />
"Very few things in life are fair, my boy," Mum tied the thread carefully: "But<br />
that doesn't mean you give up being nice and obey God."<br />
<br />
Victor laughed as in agreement. They all seem happier when Mum was in a good<br />
mood. Saranda only wished that no one would spoil that.<br />
<br />
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----------------------<br />
<br />
Saranda walked slowly to their little white house. At least she didn't need to listen<br />
to Dardon's endless complaints about his school. He had his soccer training today.<br />
She looked up at the shadowless blue sky. The days grew hotter. A kookaburra chortled<br />
on the brunch in their front yard lifting its beak to the sun. She notices the front door<br />
was opened and someone was standing there. Coming closer she recognized the lady,<br />
they had rented the house from. Even from the distance her face looked red and puffed<br />
up from trying to explain her Mum something.<br />
<br />
"You would better leave," she turned to approaching Saranda: "Remind your Dad<br />
that our contract expires this month." She looked her up and down and left banging<br />
the gate with surprising force.<br />
<br />
Saranda caught sight of Mum's face, which was pale with shock: "What's the matter<br />
with her?"<br />
<br />
"I really don't know," Mum shuffled slowly inside. Saranda followed her into<br />
kitchen. Victor smiled at her from the table eating his favourite kebab. Mum sat<br />
opposite to him. She had pushed her half eaten plate and her face was filled with<br />
helpless pain: "Mrs Hysa called me this afternoon, she has sold her business and<br />
decided to live in Sydney to be closer to her son."<br />
<br />
Saranda poured herself some tea and took a kebab from the tray. Victor watched her<br />
with his scarred eyes. He always reacted sensitively to Mum's depressive mood.<br />
Saranda sat next to him and gently pinched his cheek.<br />
<br />
Suddenly Dad entered kitchen and walked straight to Mum: "What's wrong with<br />
the landlady?"<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
There was a fragile silence. Finally Mum said: "I was praying when she entered, it<br />
was really rude of her to disturb me, anyway she is such a noisy and bossy lady,<br />
talking all the time about I have no idea what..."<br />
<br />
"Perhaps you should have been prepared for her arrival as I reminded you many<br />
times today," he turned around and paced impatiently the kitchen floor: "Perhaps,<br />
you should learn English and meet with people outside to understand them and<br />
their customs..."<br />
<br />
"I never wanted to live here, it was your idea," Mum shook her head without<br />
looking at Dad.<br />
Victor started to cry, the food dribbling from his open mouth. He stretched his<br />
dirty hands towards Mum, btu she didn't take notice of him. Dad looked at Saranda.<br />
She just sat, shoulders hunched, not knowing what to do.<br />
<br />
"Take him to the bathroom and stay out of the kitchen for a while, I have something<br />
important to discuss with your Mother," he pointed to her.<br />
<br />
While Victor enjoyed the early bath blowing soap bubbles on her, she coud quite<br />
clearly hear them having bitter quarrel, Dad's thundering voice and Mum's sobbing<br />
mentioning God's name. Saranda put a finger on her lips motioning for Victor<br />
to stay quiet and moved quietly out of bathroom through corridor until she reached<br />
the closed kitchen door.<br />
<br />
"Wake up, my girl," suddenly Dad's voice sounded almost tender: "I came back<br />
to Islam as my Mother always wanted but I can tell you God is not going to help you<br />
if you don't help yourself first."<br />
<br />
"It's as I've always suspected, this place was never going to be my home, it's so<br />
strange and lonely so different to our..."<br />
<br />
"Think of our children, what future would they have back home?" Dad asked<br />
suddenly.<br />
<br />
Saranda couldn't hear any response from Mum. Dad continued to talk:"You have to<br />
understand, no place was ever going to be the same like our home and you just have<br />
to come to terms with it."<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
Suddenly she could hear his hurried footsteps aiming to the door. She stayed where<br />
she was afraid that if she moved he'd hear and think she'd been eavesdropping.<br />
Dad's steps stopped suddenly in front of the door, she could hear his hand turning the<br />
door knob: "Lisa was very kind to offer you home English tutoring, take it as a<br />
second chance, Victor starts Kindy soon and you start to be involved in his school<br />
life..." Dad suddenly open the door and Saranda hid behind it. He turned to Mum<br />
once more, and letting the door swing open he stormed outside.<br />
Soon they could hear his car moving from the garage and the house was suddenly<br />
quiet again. Saranda quickly tiptoed back to the bathroom where Victor shivering<br />
in cold water continued to play with his bath toys.<br />
As soon as she had helped him to dry and change in his pyjamas, Dad was back<br />
with Dardon shouting about his scored goal. Victor ran excitedly to meet him and<br />
they soon rolled on the floor in their favourite tumble game. Dad surprisingly let<br />
them to scream and shout. She could hear the sound of shuffling newspapers, he<br />
was obviously reading like always before dinner. From the rattle of pans and pots<br />
in kitchen she assumed that Mum had started to prepare their evening meal.<br />
She didn't call her to help and Saranda was happy to be out of it.<br />
She put on her headphones, what Mrs Hysa bought her on her birthday and opened<br />
her English homework. The music from 'The Phantom of Opera' took her away from<br />
home and she felt at peace. The words in her book looked smudgy and she had to<br />
force herself to concentrate. Tomorrow she had a test. There was a possibility for her<br />
to move to extention class. She dreamt about it. Dad would be proud of her like last<br />
time when her favourite science teacher Dr Polkin told him about her movement to<br />
Science extension.<br />
Nothing unusual happened that evening except that she missed Dad's call for Pray, but<br />
that was nothing unusual at all.<br />
<br />
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<br />
By the time the school season was drawing to an end, Mum no longer looked<br />
expectantly at the silent phone or imagined that Mrs Hysa might come in to visit her.<br />
It took Saranda a minute or two to realize that something odd happened after Lisa's<br />
regular home tutoring had started. She always brought piles of books and videos for<br />
Mum to choose from and when she complained on her English difficulties, Lisa only<br />
waved her hand: "That's piece of cake for you, do you understand that expression?"<br />
She mimicked biting a delicious cake and her eyes gleamed under her fat cheeks at<br />
that. Even Mum had to laugh at this picture. Next time Mum baked her favourite<br />
sweet dish and they spent all English lessons watching Australian classics and reading<br />
simple kids' books. Lisa became incredibly popular not only with Mum but also with<br />
other members of their family. Ilja Iljic, the Serbian boy of friends of hers, often joined<br />
her to Dardon's delight. Even Dad found time to listen to Lisa's Aussie slang and<br />
laughingly asked for an explanation to many expressions, only rude ones he asked her<br />
politely to avoid in his house. Mum started to be a big fan of Crocodile Dundee and when<br />
his new version came up after many years called: 'Crocodile Dundee in Los Angeles', Dad<br />
found time to take them to the movies and afterwards they all drove back together home.<br />
<br />
Next morning Mum hastily prepared their breakfast. Saranda looked up in amazement<br />
to see Mum in her special long sleeve dress ready to leave.<br />
<br />
"Where are you going Mum?"<br />
<br />
"I am going to help in this parenting thing, you know in our Shopping Centre,"<br />
Mum picked up Victor biting his favourite corn cob: "Oh, Victor, ou have to finish<br />
it late, you are going to Kindy," she quickly grabbed the unfinished cob and cleaned<br />
his mouth with a handkerchief without taking notice of his loud protests.<br />
<br />
"Mum, where is my ricotta sticks?" Dardon examined his morning dish: "You<br />
know I like it with my breakfast."<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Today you have to be without it, I am in a hurry," Mum kissedVictor on his<br />
forehead and pointed on the cob: "I make your favourite corn cakes, when we come<br />
back." His crying changed to sobbing.<br />
<br />
"Why you have to go, Mum?" Dardon asked playing with his food in a protest.<br />
<br />
"I have to attend twod days workshop, Lisa organized for me and she also takes<br />
Victor to...oh, where is my bag." Mum found it and marched out the kitchen door.<br />
<br />
"Muum," Saranda ran after her: "I hope you will like it, is it the Parenting Information<br />
Centre, we have been once to ask about teething?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, Saranda, maybe my experience with you lot can be useful, I don't know,"<br />
Mum suddenly stopped in a doorway as uncertain if to leave: "Look after your<br />
brother, hope he finishes his breakfast."<br />
<br />
"Don't worry, he will not starve,"Saranda smiled at Mum and pushed her gently<br />
out of the door. She looked after her, as she hurried down the path, her veil gently<br />
blowing in the wind and Victor's head bobbing on her shoulder in the rhythms with her<br />
steps. Suddenly she realized that she hadn't seen so much energy in Mum for ages.<br />
<br />
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<br />
When Saranda opened the door this afternoon she knew straight away that Mum's<br />
workshop was a disaster Mum looked her old self, Victor sobbed on her knees<br />
biting his promised corn cake and Lisa tried to cheer her up munching the cake too:<br />
"Hm, so tasty..."She smiled at Victor, but he ignored her looking expectantly at<br />
his Mum talking to Lisa:<br />
<br />
"They should not ask me that, your nuns wear veil too..."<br />
<br />
"Not many nuns wear them these days but it was silly of them to ask you about..."<br />
Lisa stopped in half sentence watching Saranda entering the living room.<br />
<br />
"What's going on?" She asked hastily but one look at Mum's face reminded her<br />
about her forgetfulness. Fortunatelly, Lisa was not a Muslim and didn't care about<br />
formalities. She just waved her hand in a greeting and finished her sentence:<br />
"Your Mum is upset about some ladies in workshop questioning her about her ..."<br />
<br />
"My jihab," Mum helped her out.<br />
<br />
"They don't think it is appropriate while serving customers," Lisa coughed nervously.<br />
<br />
Saranda looked at Mum, who repeated to herself: "I shouldn't go there, I had known<br />
it would happen..."<br />
<br />
"I know it's hard to understand for you, btu here people can't see why Muslim<br />
women should wear them, in fact some women find them quite offensive, you know<br />
as an attack on the freedom and rights of women we have won so hard..." Lisa<br />
coughed unusually uncomfortable with the topic.<br />
<br />
"For Mum it is a statement to faith and commitment to Islam," Saranda tried to back<br />
up Mum: "But in the end it's just a custom."<br />
<br />
"The custom, which helps me to be close to my origin," Mum sighed heavily:<br />
"My home I lost."<br />
<br />
"Frankly speaking," I never understood this custom either, but you are my friend<br />
and I don't care if you wear a bucket on your head," Lisa chuckled but saddened<br />
at once: "It's only because of this 'terrorist thing', people changed...you know...<br />
people are just scared, that's all."<br />
<br />
Mum nodded. she turned to Lisa and to her surprise Saranda could see her mouth<br />
twisting in an supressed laughter: "I like your funny expressions, Lisa, my friend."<br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-3100934158969434162012-06-23T06:41:00.001-07:002012-06-23T07:03:25.343-07:00Children Overboard (October 2001)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
During the recess Saranda asked Doha about her family. Doha was quiet for a long time slowly eating her fruitcake. Saranda watched the boys lining up at the canteen, elbowing each other to get order first, as though it really mattered.<br />
<br />
"Look at Zaab," she pointed at the boy from their Maths class: "He is so smart but behaves like a little boy, he reminds me of my younger brother..."<br />
<br />
"He reminds me of Ali, my cousin," Doha followed Saranda's gaze, who stopped on the tall boy with a crown of thick black hair.<br />
<br />
"The one you mentioned, who is locked up in Detention Centre?"<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Yep," Doha muttered pushing her half eaten salad away: "He is seventeen next month, Abuh Ahmed promised me, that we could go to visit him, he is here, in Perth."<br />
<br />
"What has he done to be there?"<br />
<br />
"You are naive, Saranda, not everyone is lucky like you to get refugee's protection," Doha looked at her and her eyes glowed strangely: "Everyone said he should get a bravery award, you know, when our boat sand off this horrible reef, he was the one to help me and his sisters stay afloat."<br />
<br />
"I have been rescued once here, I couldn't swim..."<br />
<br />
"I know how to swim, but we were in the water for ages, it was so tiring and cold."<br />
<br />
"That's where your father drownded?"<br />
<br />
"Yes," Doha murmured: "Just before the Australian navy came to rescue us, he talked to me and suddenly he was gone," she bowed her head and covered her face.<br />
<br />
The bell rang and Saranda hastily finished her drink. The weather warmed up quickly. They were sitting in the sun and she felt hot and itchy.<br />
<br />
"Doha, it's time to go," she shook her friend, but Doha didn't respond lost in her thoughts. Saranda turned to leave when she heard Doha saying: "I will wait for him how long it takes and I will marry him as I promised to my father."<br />
<br />
"Who are you going to marry, Doha?" Saranda stopped in a sudden shock and turned back to face her friend: "Marry, yak."<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Ali is the only one from my family left."<br />
<br />
"I know btu still, I don't think you have to marry him, you know, here in Australia..."<br />
<br />
"I want to, Saranda, you can't understand." Doha stood up and passed Saranda without a glance.<br />
<br />
Saranda stood there fo ra while. She chuckled as she pictured her cousin and her to be married? Such nonsence. Once again she realized that she could never be a devout Muslim like Doha.<br />
<br />
"Finally I thought the day is dawning, but it is still like night for us..." Saranda could hear the rich descriptive language of the Abuh Ahmed from the living room when she entered her house.<br />
<br />
"Salama Lejku," she bowed her head to pay respect to this highly religious man.<br />
<br />
He waved kindly with his hand. Saranda looked deeply into his strong dark eyes contrasting with his white hair and thick bead. All she could see was sadness. Her Dad was sitting next to him lost in deep thinking. She could see they had been engaged in serious matter, which was not in their capabilities to solve. The illumination from TV made ghostly figures around dimly lit living room.<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Propaganda like this," her Dad suddenly pointed on TV showing the photos of some swimming children thrown by their parents-refugees overboard as it was assumed: "Does not help to persuade Australians about the plight of Ali and others."<br />
<br />
The Abuh Ahmed sighed deeply in an agreement: "Being separated from each other is awful for them but the realization of never being able to meet again must be even worse."<br />
Passing them quietly to reach the corridor she suddenly realized, who they had been talking about: Doha and Ali.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-38489745468161526492012-05-24T00:29:00.000-07:002012-05-24T01:12:16.848-07:00America under attack...and not only America...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
That night Dad woke them up with urgent shouting: "America is under attack!"<br />
Saranda wriggled in her bed and half conscously she could recognize Victor's crying and Dardon's<br />
quick footsteps along the corridor approaching her bedroom.<br />
<br />
"Hey, wake up!" Dardon shook her arms, but she only muttered to him to get lost. It took many persistent shakes, but finally she opened her eyes and sat up glaring at him.<br />
<br />
"What's up?" Saranda finally asked him, while rubbing at her eye.<br />
<br />
"There is a war, in America," he answered before running out leaving the door opened.<br />
<br />
"Look at those skyscrapers falling apart like paper boxes..." she could hear his exciting shouting from the living room.<br />
<br />
Entering the room she found her all family frozen in front of the TV.<br />
<br />
"How terrible, all these terrified people running for their lives...may God help them," her Mum muttered watching the images of New York straight after the bombing of the Twin towers. Victor sobbed<br />
and Mum covered his eyes protectively with her hand.<br />
<br />
There was a silence disturbed only by the screaming of injured people on TV. Saranda stayed behind<br />
their backs, unnoticed, glaring at the screen. She was afraid that if she moved the images would come<br />
alive and she would feel the real pain and horror just like once before.<br />
<br />
Finally Dad said: "Remember this day, the world will never be the same again after September 11!"<br />
<br />
Soon they would all realise just how true this statement would become.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Next morning on their way to school Saranda could hear people's laments on the bus stop.<br />
One old lady was crying as her son was in New York at the time and she didn't know what's happened<br />
to him. Dardon met a friend from his soccer team and they started loudly describe the image of falling<br />
of Twin towers.<br />
<br />
Saranda was happy when their bus finally came and she pushed him inside. People at the bus were unusually quiet, their grim faces reflected the mixed emotions after seeing the disturbing images of<br />
the previous night.<br />
Suddenly a group of men in dark suits started loudly discuss the terrorist attack and Muslims. One of them stood up and turned to his companions: "Trust me guys, all Muslims are terrorists." He left on the next bus stop but the statement stayed hanging in the air. The atmosphere in the bus felt oppressive.<br />
Saranda touched her scarf and felt like choking.<br />
<br />
Dardon looked at Saranda quizzically: "Are we terrorists?"<br />
<br />
"You'd better ask Dad about that, but I for one don't feel like one," she found an empty seat and sat down.<br />
<br />
"That's sort of cool, you know..."<br />
<br />
"Cut it out, Dardon," she turned her face to a window. She could feel an elderly lady sitting opposite starring at her.<br />
<br />
"Poor Americans, so many live lost and what will happen to us now?" The lady murmured under her<br />
breath. Saranda looked up at her and smiled sadly as she was not sure if the question was addressed to her. The lady met her eyes and leaned forward: "I am old, born not far from this intersection, you know, but what about you lot, migrating to this country in thousands with your peculiar customs..."<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Saranda got up suddenly realising that the bus stopped in front of Dardon't Muslim college. He had already disappeared among the crowd rushing to the front door. She quickly followed him. The lady<br />
watched her to leave. A sour smile came across her lips.<br />
Saranda rushed to catch up with Dardon. He stepped on the busy road without looking around and some drivers honked at him. Saranda finally caught up with him near the school entrance. The loud whole school morning pray reminded Dardon that he was again late for assembly. The boys in their praying hats stood in perfect row on the right and the girls on the left, together preparing Arabic words after their Deputy principal. The Religion teacher moved from row to row watching closely the children's behaviour and attention to praying. She looked Dardon up and down when he quickly joined his class, taking out his praying hat from his pocket. Saranda shrugged, it looked like the routine would be the same like everyday. She quickly turned around and ran along the street to her College. On the way she met with Doha, who looked upset.<br />
<br />
"Someone draw rude pictures on the wall of Mosque, with the words that we are ones to blame for the attack," she hastily explained to her while entering the gate.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
"I've heard morning that stones were thrown at mosques." Saranda nodded.<br />
<br />
Doha stopped suddenly in front of their PC room, her face twisted with a hidden pain: "Thank God you will live in a free country, where no one will persecute you for your beliefs," she looked up at Saranda with tears in her eyes: "My Father said this to me before he drowned on this shore." She spread her arms in an attempt to cover whole space and then she let them fall in a deep sorrow.<br />
<br />
Saranda felt that there was nothing she could say so she just gently squizzed Doha's hand and then quietly entered their Religious room. The lesson had already started so they quickly found empty seats to avoid their teacher attention. Fortunately she was busy talking to a Muslim lady at the front.<br />
<br />
"We have a visitor," a girl from the front turned to them.<br />
<br />
"Who is she?" Saranda asked observing the visitor's rich red Muslim dress with a shawl loosely held over her long black hair: "She is cool, look, she doesn't care if you can see her hair." Saranda added admiringly.<br />
<br />
"I know her," Doha suddenly whispered into her ear: "She has visited the Abuh Ahmed's house a few times, she is a teacher and a writer, I think."<br />
<br />
Saranda wanted to ask more but the lady turned to the class smiling kindly: "Dear girls, let me introduce myself, my name is Nagasful Zahedan and my grandfather came to Australia from Afghanistan in the<br />
late 19th century. My father was a devout Muslim and I am..." She looked around the attentive faces: "I am Muslim of the heart."<br />
<br />
"What does that mean?" Saranda blurted out without thinking.<br />
<br />
"Saranda," the teacher looked at her crossly from the corner: "It is extremely rude to..."<br />
<br />
"It is allright," the lady smiled at Saranda: "Being a Muslim is part of my identity."<br />
<br />
Saranda thanked her for the answer and the lady continued in her talk. Her face was expressionless only her kind smile enlightened it from time to time. She spoke quietly, trying to convince: "I am sure<br />
you have already met people who blame or your parents for what happened in America," the lady looked around the classroom on the nodding heads. Her thin golden earrings tinkled in agreement: "It's<br />
tragic and sad, but I want you to know that they are not bad people, people just don't understand what is happening..."<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
"I like her," Saranda whispered into Doha's ear: "Once I will be like her, a Muslim of the heart."<br />
<br />
"She is right," Doha added: "Getting worried doesn't help us."<br />
<br />
"And what will?" Saranda asked, but Doha was already lost in her pray.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-82471072571340384572012-04-28T20:45:00.000-07:002012-04-28T21:23:14.640-07:00Australian Citizenship Ceremony with a taste of tragedy (September 2001)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
One day Dad called them to his Study and presented proudly a letter with Australian emblem. Saranda<br />
looked at the letter an drecognied the heading: 'Department of Immigration and Multicultural Affairs.'<br />
She vaguely remembered a time when a similar letter arrived at the Barracks and they had been allowed to stay in Australia.<br />
<br />
"What's this all about?" Mum asked nervously holding the vigorous Victor by his hand. He looked around the room he was not allowed to enter and was keen to explore it with all his senses.<br />
<br />
"I will miss my soccer, Dad, is it important?" Dardon asked impatiently.<br />
<br />
"Very important," Dad said shaking the letter in his hand: "We finally become rightful citizens of this country," he stopped for a while: "And there is a part I want you to learn by heart by next Saturday," he looked from one to another: "All of you you!"<br />
<br />
"I see Victor learning it," chuckled Dardon to himself, but Dad walking behind him squeezed his arm<br />
so painfully that he jumped up saying: "Don't be cheecky, Dardon, you are not a little boy any more, it is time for you to grow up, sooner you learnt that, better for you."<br />
<br />
Then he turned to Saranda, who followed him out of the room: "Here you are, help your Mum to understand it," handing her the letter he noticed Victor, finally freeing himself from Mum, starting to explore enthusiastically Dad's table full of papers.<br />
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He beckoned to Mum to take him and leave. Dardon didn't miss opportunity and rushed out of the door to catch up with his training. Mum quickly grabbed Victor who loudly protested and left the room in a tick. Only Saranda moved slowly to the door reading loudly: "<i>From this time forward, under God, I pledge my loyalty to Australia and its people..."</i> She suddenly stopped and turned back: "Why do we have to learn this?"<br />
<br />
Dad has already returned back to his table and carefully ordered back the papers Victor touched, without taking eyes of it, he murmured under his breath: "Just keep reading, you will understand."<br />
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Saranda looked back at the page: "<i>...whose democratic beliefs I share, whose rights and liberties I respect, and whose laws I will uphold and obey."</i> She finished reading and stared at him for a while.<br />
<br />
He stopped ordering his papers and looked at her annoyed: "This is the pledge, Saranda, we are very lucky people, you know, we have the country of our origin and also a new country, which we are becoming part of..." He stopped for a while and stared out of the window at the sun lit lawn surrounded by colourful hedges of native flowers.<br />
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She wanted to say something but then she notice his moistured eyes and knew he is thinking about home. That was not the time to disturb him so she tiptoed back to the door,<br />
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"The least we can do is promise to respect and obey its lows." She heard his last words before closing the door quietly behind her.<br />
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And so they did in the big hall of their Thornlie Council, Mum and Dad stood with others in front of the Mayor while Saranda, Victor and Dardon sat with the audience in the first row. Dad was standing proud repeating the pledge while Mum stood nervously besides him, hiding behind her scarf.<br />
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"Stop wriggling, you little monkey," Saranda whispered in Victor's ear.<br />
<br />
He was sitting on her knees. Saranda wished for a quick end as he was turning around and shouting excitedly towards Mum. She imagined the flash of disapproval in Dad's eyes, if he noticed them. It was so embarrassing she quickly turned around to see reaction of the people around them. Jack and George waved to her from the fourth row. Jack had decided to come back hom, which made George extremely hapy. She could see him now putting his arm around Jacks' shoulders and holding him tightly as to make sure he would never run away again. The annoyed look on Jack's face worried her.<br />
She smiled at him encouragingly and turning back she noticed Doha standing near the entrance with some flowers in her hands peeping from her scarf. Suddenly a dark arm wearing shinning bracelets appeared from the last row and waved to Doha. Saranda looked closely to recognize Mrs Hysa sitting there holding Joyce on her knees.<br />
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"Ouch," She was forced to turn back as Victor found another pastime activity, pulling her hair out of her scarf: "Stop it, Victor," she was furious with him and Dardon, who had started to laugh like crazy. She dropped Victor on the floor so she could arrange her scarf. He screamed joyfully and ran straight to his Mum, who was standing shaking hands with the Mayor. Victor stopped behind him, suddenly shy and the surprised Mayor nearly collapsed on top of him, while turning to shake hands with another new citizen.<br />
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"Hello little 'fella', you want to be first to congratulate your Mum, don't you?" He smiled broadly and moved out of Victor's way.<br />
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The people in audience laughed, but Mum quickly grabbed Victor's hand and looked sheepishly at Dad, who gave Saranda a grave look. The one she didn't imagine, it was real. Dardon couldn't stop laughing. She clutched her stomach a in sudden pain and get up to leave the hall in a hurry.<br />
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It was dark outside and quiet. Saranda breathed with a sudden relief when a dark figure leapt from the bushes in front of her. She jumped from fear and was ready to run back inside, when the familiar hand touched her arm:<br />
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"Saranda, it's me Kathy," Kathy's white teeth shone in the dark and her curls bounced on her head like always when she was laughing.<br />
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"Kathy, what are you doing here?" Saranda observed her dear friend's dirty shirt and jeans and moved out little as the foul breath made her sick. She could smell alcohol and something else, she couldn't recognise.<br />
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"Jack told me," She winked at Saranda and produced a branch from a flowering bottle-brush tree: "Welcome, 'Sar' among 'the bloody Aussies', couldn't you find someone better to belong to?"<br />
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Saranda looked at her in surprise when Kathy handed her spiky red bush flowers.<br />
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"I am just joking, anyway I couldn't any poshy flowers around here, anyway these ones are like me, native, ha,ha.." She laughed so loudly nearly loosing her balance.<br />
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"Kathy, are you all right?" Saranda got hold of her arm as she was now laughing hysterically.<br />
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Some older couple walking near the entrance looked at them strangely. Kathy noticed them and made a rude sign in their direction: "What are you looking at, f..k off!"<br />
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Saranda turned her back to the horrified couple and led Kathy back to the darkness of the bushes where she had appeared before. She had a strange feeling, that this was not her friend, but someone else in her skin.<br />
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"Kathy, what's wrong?" She pleaded with her, but Kathy shook her arm free. Before she disappeared in the bushes, she turned one more time and smiled at Saranda:<br />
<br />
"It's good that Jack is back home, you know, he never was the sort of guy to live on a street."<br />
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And she was gone. Saranda smelled the spiky bush flowers and went back inside.<br />
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The ceremony was over and people mingled around the tables with refreshments. She spotted her family, who were taking picture with the Mayor under the Australian flag. She was on her way to join them when someone touched her shoulder:<br />
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"I was looking for you, Saranda," Doha smiled at her shyly: "Congratulation on becoming an Australian, my cousin would do anything to be one." She handed her three elegant white orchids tied up with a white ribbon.<br />
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Saranda touched gently a white petal, when Doha whispered in her ear: "I like these flowers, they are Australian ones, but they look so strangely mysterious in the bush, like they don't belong there," she smiled sadly at Saranda: "Just like us, don't you think?"<br />
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Before she could answer Doha was gone. Saranda quickly joined her family for the last picture under the Australian flag, holding two very different flowers. She had a strong urge of mixing them together. Is it possible?<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-15381931797099942342012-04-01T02:02:00.000-07:002012-04-01T02:02:04.591-07:00Doha from Baghdad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The next day Saranda put the note from the ponytail girl next to her treasured letter from her dead cousins and sighed deeply. She felt extremely lonely on this windy Monday morning. Foundation Day, ste repeated quietly for herself. In spite of her knowing what that day meant for Western Australia, she didn't really feel part of it. She was too new to this country to think about its history, a history she and her family were not part ot. Passing the kitchen Saranda peeped inside to see Mum and Mrs Hysa filling a pita bread with all taht yammy stuff Joyce and Victor fought over. They supposed to hand it to them, but kids are kids even in the strict Muslim families. Piece of cheese felt on the floor and Victor grabbed it.<br />
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"Yak, Victor, it's dirty," but before Mum could finish, Victor put it into his mouth.<br />
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"Don't worry, I've washed the floor yesterday, anyway germs are good for him," Mrs Hysa laughed cutting a piece of cooked chicken.<br />
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"Let me to do it, let meee..." Joyce started to scream from the bottom of her small lungs.<br />
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Saranda quietly passed the kitchen before they noticed her. She went out and looked at the cloudy sky.<br />
Without looking back she rushed down the street, when she suddenly stopped. There was no point going to Fremantle, Jack was on the trip. She looked desperately around at some houses close by. Sudden gust of wind and first drops of rain hurried her up the road. Kathy was for sure at Uncle Toby's house surrounded by her kin. And waht had happened to her? Why did she still feel like running away? From whom and what? She pondered at these questions for a while when suddenly she caught a sight of a white house right next to their Mosque. That's the house where Doha lived with her foster parents.<br />
Without further thinking she ran toward its gate and entered the front yard with its immaculate lawn.<br />
She looked up at the majestic white stairs and suddenly compared this huge vila to their small house. While was standing there unable to decide what to do, she was caught in the downpour of rain. The side window squeaked and the girlish voice informed her in Arabic:<br />
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"The Mosque is closed today, but you are welcome to pray in this house, God is great."<br />
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Saranda looked up and recognised Doha in her usual head cover. She smiled hastily and waved.<br />
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"Saranda, is that you?" But Saranda had no time to reply as the window banged and the covered girlish figure opened the front door in a hurry: "Come in or you are going to get soaked."<br />
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When Saranda entered, her wet sneakers made squeaking sound on the polished timber floor. Doha quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her to the left. They passed the long corridor full of oriental mosaics and rags. Finally Doha opened the door on the end and beckoned Saranda to enter nervously looking around for the sign of movement. Saranda stopped in the doorway as the luxurious spacey girlish bedroom took her breath away.<br />
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"It's not mine," Doha smiled apologetically and pointed on the picture showing a girl in a white head cover with some flowers: "Zaliah, the eldest daughter of my saviours, uncle Abuh Ahmed adn his wife, may God protect them, she studies in America."<br />
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Saranda nodded and walked around the room touching the exotic model of ancient building. 'The Babylonian ziggurat of Ur-nammu,' she spelled slowly the golden letters underneath. Her eyes suddenly caught an ancient wall map showing Mesopotamia between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. Doha followed her gaze and smiled enthusiastically:<br />
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"People settled along these rivers as early as 7000 BC and Mesopotamia flourished until the 500 BC, with Babylon as its capital. Have you heard about King Nebuchadnezzar and the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?"<br />
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"Nebu...what?" Saranda looked puzzled but Doha didn't seem notice lost in her world.<br />
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"Baghdad," Doha gently touched the golden star on the old map representing the capital: "In 762, Baghdad became the new capital and for centuries was the centre of learning, science, philosophy and poetry in the golden age of Islam." She looked up and met the blank Saranda's face: "I was born there and lived there happily for nearly twelve years until..."<br />
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Saranda waited but Doha just covered her ace and turned to the window, when the noise inside the house reminded them of their inhabitants. Doha quickly walked across the room to the dressing corner.<br />
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Saranda only now realized that she was wet and shivered touching her damp hair. Silky cushions had been arranged around the corners so she slowly moved to drop among them as to find something to cover herself up.<br />
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"Here you are, it's yours anyway," Doha handed to the surprised Saranda the black long shirt with the Aboriginal painting of footprints and hadprints making pattern of sun. "Do you remember our trip to the museum?"<br />
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"Yeah, but..."<br />
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"I thought this picture will suit you the best, I mean you always wear that little golden sun of yours," Doha smiled secretly and moved her head scarf to reveal her golden chain with the moon crescent surrounded by some little stars: "My Mum gave it to me, before she died to remember the people I belong to, Turkmen."<br />
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"The sun and the moon," Saranda looked at their golden chains shaking her head in a surprise: "But I can't take it," she looked at the shirt that dropped from her hands.<br />
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"Of course you can, go and change in that dressing corner, " Doha pointed to the place, where she looked for the shirt: "Then I will do your scarf as Abuh Ahmed's wife doesn't like modern ways," she sighed and waved at Saranda with a white scarf.<br />
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"It's fit perfectly, how did you know and where did you get the money for it?" Saranda twirled around in her new black shirt until Doha beckoned her to sit down and bent her head for the headscarf.<br />
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"I saved some money from my sewing," Doha murmured under her breath: "This one is made especially for you." She looked at Saranda and smiled.<br />
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"I didn't know you like sewing."<br />
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"I sometimes help Abuh Ahmed's wife, she sews girls school scarfs and boys religious hats," Doha murmured under her breath:"You know, I thought, I would save some money for my cousin, when they release him from Detention Centre, but..."<br />
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The call for praying stopped their discussion and Doha quickly tied Saranda's scarf: "Let's go to join them for the pray time," she beckoned Saranda to join her.<br />
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"I think, I would better go back home..." Saranda picked up her wet shirt from the chair.<br />
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"Look at the mirror, Saranda, now you look like real Australian Muslim girl, " Doha laughed pointing at her reflection behind the chair: "See ya and drop in any time you like."<br />
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When she was gone, Saranda curiously looked at herself. The white scarf contrasted with the black long sleeve shirt and blue jeans. Her clothes represented the state of her mind, she kept looking back where she came from, struggling to understand the religion of her Grandmother and looking forward to be part of her new home. Who was she?<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-37333988348733703822012-02-25T04:18:00.000-08:002012-02-25T04:18:47.071-08:00"There is nothing we can do about it, my girl."<br />
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Saranda looked at it in a shock. She was scared to open it, fearing of bad news about more deaths of people she knew.</div>
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Mrs Hysa put the arm around her shoulders: "Take a time to read it and be happy for yourself that you escaped that life." Then she quickly opened the door and shouted to Mum: "We're coming, I thought I had some more photos of my son, but I left them at home." Mrs Hysa hurried to join Mum in the kitchen and gestured Saranda to follow her.</div>
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Saranda walked slowly back holding the note closely to her heart.</div>
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She could hear Mrs Hysa's loud voice beaming from the kitchen: "What were we talking about?"</div>
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"That there is only one God," Saranda heard Mum's gentle voice.</div>
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"You know, that's right, there is only one God but too many religions to fight for him. He has nothing to do with it all, in the end." Mrs Hysa replied and smiled sadly at Saranda who joined them back at the table, with the note safely in her pocket.</div>
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The telephone rang but Mum and Mrs Hysa ignored it, lost in their thoughts. Saranda slowly raised to pick it up: "Hello," suddenly her voice gained all its lost excitement:</div>
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"Hello, George, we're fine, how is Jack?"</div>
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That night she slowly opened the piece of paper torn from an old school book:</div>
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<i>"Dear Saranda, I don't know if you remember me, it's been so long since we left Australia, I don't even remember any more what it look's like there. Autumn is approaching and we don't know, where to settle down. Our home was destroyed and our whole village is one big mess. Few people have returned, not enough to repair everything. My Dad and uncles went to look for work. Mum decided to take us to Bosnia, where her sister lives, she said there is no chance for us to survive the winter here. It's pity because they've promised to open our school soon. I went through my old school books, which I found in the ruins. They are a little bit dirty but still good to use. We can still hear gunfire especially during the nights, everyone has told us to have a gun to protect our home. But Mum answered that no one will attack a woman with daughters living under a broken wall. She prays a lot…"</i></div>
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Saranda suddenly stopped reading and jumped out of her bed. She entered Mrs Hysa's bedroom without knocking.</div>
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"Oh, Saranda, what's wrong?" Mrs Hysa looked up from her bed and then turned anxiously to see if Joyce had woken up: "Keep quiet, I gave her some Panadol only few minutes ago, she had a terrible headache."</div>
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"Sorry, Mrs Hysa, I didn't realise," Saranda whispered looking at the letter in her hands: "I have just thought you would know how to to help them, " she looked up back at Mrs Hysa: " We have to help them, we have to…"</div>
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Joyce coughed noisily and turned on the other side. Mrs Hysa put her hand on Joyce's forehead and sighed with a relief: "It's going down."</div>
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Saranda kept standing there, in the middle of the room looking expectantly on Mrs Hysa: "Mrs Hysa, you always know what to do, you work in our Albanian Club here, maybe they can help, we can send food and blankets and…"</div>
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"Dear Saranda, I wish it could be as simple as you see it," Mrs Hysa shook her head: "We have already sent a few convoys of things you have mentioned with the help of some Australian Charity organisations but…"</div>
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"But we have to send more, I am going to find some spare jumpers and…"</div>
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"Saranda, these things haven't reached the needy they had been aimed for…"</div>
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"Why?"</div>
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"Our convoys have been robbed and all goods sold on the black market," Mrs Hysa stopped and looked at Saranda's reaction: " You see, saran, a few goods, which have been successful to reach desired destination couldn't find the recipients any more, but still there were other people more that happy to take it…"</div>
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"I know where the girl with a ponytail is, look it's written here…" Saranda laid the note in front of Mrs Hysa.</div>
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"From the latest news we have from home, she moved on to Bosnia," Mrs Hysa took the note and folded it back neatly: "Don't worry, Saranda, she'll be alright, it always takes time to restore order in a country, sometimes it takes longer than we want to believe…and anyway you should be proud of your Father, him and some others from our Muslim community send a regular monthly payments to the new appointed government to build up a better school system there." She nodded and turned around to levee the room. After a few steps an idea struck her: "Why would Serbians rob it, I thought, they wre not our enemies any more, the war is over, isn't it?"</div>
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"Who said Serbians did it? It is hard to explain, you know, if there is no order in one country, all the customs and beliefs are falling apart and people don't know what to believe in, they tend to turn against each other in an attempt just to survive another day." Mrs Hysa stood up and embraced Saranda: "There is nothing we can do about it, my girl."</div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-45153133539436518152011-11-12T05:26:00.001-08:002011-11-12T07:12:35.671-08:00We can't question God, or can we? <br />
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<br />
Saranda was relieved that Mrs Hysa had decided to stay with them until George, Dad Dardon come back. Mum seemed to be better with her around.<br />
<br />
"Mum, could I go on Dad's computer to do my homework?" she enquired in the living room, where Mum was fussing around a sick Joyce. She hadn't given up teaching her Albanian and now she was able to understand almost anything.<br />
Unfortunately Mum's progress in English was much slower. Now Joyce was showing her some photographs and 'Father' in English.<br />
<br />
"Is this your Dad, 'Fa-ter'?" Mum tried to pronounce English word pointing at a man on the picture.<br />
<br />
"Yep,' laughed Joyce, but it sounds silly when you said that: "Fa-ther."<br />
<br />
"Fine, fine, I don't say anything, anymore in your English, better you talk Albanian."<br />
<br />
"MUUM!" Saranda shouted behind her back asking for attention: "Can I use the computer in Dad's room?"<br />
<br />
"Now, in your holiday?" Mum turned around and looked at her quizzically.<br />
<br />
"Let her go," they could hear Mrs Hysa's voice from the kitchen, where she was baking a cake.<br />
Her covered head appeared in the doorway: "Information technology is everything today, you know, it took me ages to learn how to use it...I own a simple cleaning business, but you can't do it without a computer."<br />
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<br />
<br />
Saranda didn't wait fro more and rand Dad's study room. They had the Internet now as Dad needed it for his studies and she loved to go online and talk to her email buddy. Now she laughed at times, when she couldn't use it. They had 'Apples' at school and she looked forward to every IT lesson. They had their Muslim's friends from different countries and Saranda had found it fascinated to have a friend from Indonesia.<br />
Dad seemed to be pleased enough that she had a Muslim girl to correspond with and gave her set times every day to use the Internet at home, but he checked the website, in order to protect her from unsuitable images.<br />
Tri was her name and she longed to come and live in Australia, she had four sisters and a dream to be an airline stewardess, which her family apparently discouraged her to follow. Saranda found amusing to find out that their problems were often similar, although written in funny English and from exotic country. Most of all Tri was two years older.<br />
Saranda found herself spilling her heart to this girl, she had never met and found close bond with her. To her own surprise she found herself to write her about Jack.<br />
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<br />
"Saranda, are you still alive?" Mrs Hysa called from the door and Saranda blanked out the screen in panic. She smelt the cake behind her back and soon the tray was put in front of her: "Have some nice tea and cake, which we have made with Victor."<br />
<br />
"Thank you, Mrs Hysa," She smiled guiltily, she had forgotten all about her home duties.<br />
<br />
"It's all right, but you're better to be off, George promised to call us tonight, to let us know how the boys' ride is going."<br />
<br />
When she entered the kitchen, Mum and Mrs Hysa were engaged in some serious discussion. Mum stopped abruptly in half of the sentence and looked at her.<br />
<br />
"Where are the kids?" Saranda asked.<br />
<br />
"Watching cartoons." Mum replied and looked from Saranda to Mrs Hysa.<br />
<br />
Always beaming Mrs Hysa looked somehow shrunk and worried: "Let her stay, it can happen to her too in the close future, especially here, you know," she had somehow cheered up and winked at Saranda.<br />
<br />
"Not to her, her Father wants her to marry a proper Muslim."<br />
<br />
"What you talking about Mum, I will never marry..." Saranda objected and took another piece of cake. Then she looked at Mrs Hysa: "What is this all about?"<br />
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<br />
"I was talking about my son," Mrs Hysa sighed.<br />
<br />
"Son?" Saranda nearly dropped her cake in a surprise.<br />
<br />
"He lives with his father in Sydney, the man I divorced five years ago," Mrs Hysa sighed again: "It was a big mistake, my Musim-Christian marriage..."<br />
<br />
"That's not true," Mum patted her hand gently: "I was a catholic once too, you know, no religion should be preferred, it alone is the one true religion."<br />
<br />
"But you are Muslim now, Mum, are you?" Mum snapped at her angrily and Mrs Hysa looked up at her in surprise. Saranda blushed fiercely. She couldn't explain her adversity against Mum's passivity; she thought if she would stay Catholic maybe she could stand up for herself. Saranda expected another lecture from Mrs Hysa but fortunately she was lost in her own thoughts.<br />
<br />
"I let him go with his father, you know, he would be an outcast among Muslims here, but I thought he could find a place in his Father's Catholic community, " she smiled painfully: "despite her mother being Muslim."<br />
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<br />
"And what about your girl, is this man her Father too?" Saranda asked enthusiastically.<br />
<br />
"Of course, he is," Mum looked at her disapprovingly and then turn back to Mrs Hysa lost in her dark thoughts: "You've done a right thing and you still have your girl, as Saranda said."<br />
Saranda made a grimace and finished her second piece of cake. Mrs Hysa was an expert in baking. There was a silence for a while. Finally, Mrs Hysa continued.<br />
<br />
"Do you remember, when I went to Sydney to celebrate two days of Eid there?"<br />
<br />
"You came back very upset, I remember, I was thinking, it would have been much better for you to stay with us to celebrate the end of Ramadan." Mum shook her head.<br />
<br />
"I visited hime there," Mrs Hysa whispered: "I wanted him to meet his sister and celebrate with us, but..." she stopped and breathed heavily: "He wasn't interested in Ramadan. His sister and him, they had nothing in common, except their looks."<br />
<br />
"They are siblings, they are not supposed to have anything in common, look at me and Dardon," Saranda pointed out, but Mrs Hysa took no notice.<br />
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<br />
<br />
"I sometimes wonder if we didn't misunderstand the real purpose of religion here, today."<br />
<br />
"You see, Mrs Hysa, I was right, we can ask God if women still have to wear head covers," Saranda pointed on her scarf: "I just prefer not too."<br />
<br />
"You can't question God, Saranda," Mum looked at her crossly, then she looked up and said: "There is only one God..."<br />
<br />
"But you can look for him for the answers, can't you?" Saranda replied quickly.<br />
<br />
"Yes, you certainly can Saranda, but the answer is not simple as that, the head cover is merely a custom, some Kosovo Muslim's girls don't wear it at all, do you remember the girl with a ponytail from barracks, what was her name?" Mrs Hysa suddenly cheered up.<br />
<br />
"I know who you mean, but I don't remember her name either," Saranda now seldom thought about their first home in Australia.<br />
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<br />
"Oh, I nearly forgot," Mrs Hysa stood up suddenly and grabbed Saranda's arm: : "Let's get something from my room." She dragged surprised saranda behind her and quietly closed the door behind them.<br />
<br />
"I don't want mention Kosovo in front of you Mum, it always upsets her," Mrs Hysa whispered rummaging through her bag: "The Albanian Association received a letter from some of the Kosovo families, who had been living with you in the barracks, you know..." She finally found a piece of paper: "There was a note for you inside, from that girl with a ponytail."<br />
<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-8254791387111917282011-09-26T20:54:00.000-07:002011-09-26T21:23:52.199-07:00"IF YOU WOULD BE A GIRL, YOU WILL GO NOWHERE..."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
The first light had barely brightened the window of their bedroom. It seemed to Saranda that she had<br />
only just fallen asleep when the noise outside her window woke her. She waved Jack through the window and sleepily put her long gown on.<br />
<br />
"Come on, you lazy bones, times for a trip..." he shouted and threw another stone on the glass.<br />
<br />
"Jack, shut your mouth," she nervously peeped outside through the curtains: "I'll be there in a sec."<br />
She quickly pulled on her jeans and long jumper, leaving the scarf behind. After a second thought she tied her long hair in a bun.<br />
<br />
"Kathy forgot to wash my favourite shirt," Jack mumbled, when she met him outside.<br />
<br />
"It's all right," she reassured him: "It's too dark to notice it anyway." He jerked and when she looked up at him, his eyes glowed strangely.<br />
<br />
"Kathy said, no point to dress up," he smiled to himself: "She is right, you know, my Dad can see the piece of shit I am." Jack suddenly lost his balance and she steadied him in a last minute.<br />
<br />
"I am perfectly fine," he noticed her quizzical look: "It's only little bit of dope to help me go."<br />
<br />
They could hear some noise from inside the house.<br />
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<br />
"Hurry up," she grabbed his hand and hurried through the front gate: "Better meet him on the road."<br />
<br />
"So 'cuuute' these little houses and perfectly cut lawns and perfectly happy families inside..." Jack grimaced when they slowly walked through her street.<br />
<br />
<br />
Everything was dark, sleepy and cold. She shivered in the frosty morning. She couldn't use to this funny weather pattern, freezing nights and hot middays. She secretly peeped at Jack, he seemed to be warm enough in his surf shorts and sleeveless shirt. At first she could not see anything clearly in the gloom. It was not until the very last minute that they noticed approaching car. Jack had turned pale and was nervously looking around.<br />
<br />
"It will be all right," Saranda said reassuringly and both stopped in the middle of the road.<br />
<br />
The car suddenly stopped using brakes heavily. "What's going on here?" George pushed his door open and stepped out.<br />
<br />
Saranda pulled Jack's shirt and they approached the car. "Hi, Dad."<br />
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<br />
<br />
Saranda looked up at Jack surprised at the gloomy tone in his voice. But George was impressed, a tear trembled on his eyelid: "JACK." He put his arms around his son.<br />
<br />
There was a silence for a while.<br />
<br />
"I thought, I never see you again, fearing every night..." George gulped: "Every time I have been asked to identify a body of a junkie, I was relieved it was not you..."<br />
<br />
"I didn't come for that," Jack freed from George's tight embrace: "I just want see the oldies at York.." He stood woodenly, gazing at the path.<br />
<br />
"Of course," George laughed wholeheartedly: "No worries!" Saranda stole a glance at her swimming instructor, trying to judge his mood. She liked him more and more. George opened the back door and gestured at them to come in: "You're bound to survive this weekend with me, I should say."<br />
<br />
<br />
In the car Saranda glanced at Jack. Sometimes he seemed to be both sad and funny at the same time. Strange as it seemed, she imagined that Jack would grow up to be the same kind of man as his Dad. Approaching the house they saw Dardon to meet them.<br />
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<br />
<br />
"Saranda," he shouted noticing her inside. Suddenly he tore along the path, skidded and went flat.<br />
George stopped the car and stepped outside laughing. Dardon forced himself to laugh as well as he trudged over to join him.<br />
<br />
"Never mind, mate, it can happen to anyone," George stopped laughing and patted him on the back.<br />
<br />
"It can happen only to HIM," Saranda laughed winding her window down.<br />
<br />
Dardon sighed peeping inside the car: "What are you doing there, sister?"<br />
<br />
Saranda stepped outside to reply, when she noticed Dad standing at the front porch. She felt naked under his icy look and she quickly touched her uncovered hair.<br />
<br />
"Saranda, back in house!" His voice hammered over her and she ran as fast as she could, passing him in a sudden fright. She nearly felt over Victor near the front door. Victor screamed and grabbed her hand pointing on the car: "Car, 'brrm', trip."<br />
<br />
"Yes, Victor, let's go inside."<br />
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<br />
<br />
"No, " he suddenly let go her hand shooting to Dad skidding next to his feet. He pulled himself up again holding onto Dad's pants and peeped curiously behind his back on the car.<br />
<br />
Closing the door she looked back at Jack. He looked out at her through the open window with a mix of shock and curiousity. She quickly closed the door and ran to her room. She gasped meeting Mum in the dark corridor. She looked like stone statue, cold and so lifeless.<br />
<br />
"Where have you been again?"<br />
<br />
Saranda turned around to answer but the noise outside made her curious and she quickly reached her window to look out.<br />
Dardon joined Jack at her spot on the back. George was talking to Dad in front of the car. Suddenly she felt Mum's hands on her head. It felt so good. Saranda tried to feel them and touched the scarf.<br />
<br />
"No," she screamed and threw it on the floor without looking at Mum.<br />
<br />
She couldn't hear but felt that Mum left the room. Suddenly she saw Dad entering the car with George and they took off. Passing her window George blowed her kiss from the front seat and Jack looked at her...somehow differently.<br />
Victor was left on the porch crying loudly until Mum reached him. They both stood there waving in the car's direction until it disappeared behind the gate. Mum's grey long dress contrasted with the shiny green vegetation outside. Saranda joined them and dried out Victor's tears from his face.<br />
<br />
"I go trip," he wiped his nose.<br />
<br />
"Few more years and you will join them." Mum smiled at him and took his hand to take him inside.<br />
<br />
"Not, now," he freed his hand and stomped his little foot.<br />
<br />
"Come on, don't be baby, Victor," Saranda picked him and twirled him around: "If you would be a girl, you will go nowhere, you see, you are lucky Victor."<br />
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<br />
"They are places you bound to go," Mum said watching them. When Saranda stopped with question in her eyes she continued firmly: "Mrs Hysa's daughter is sick so she couldn't go with George, but she will be at Mosque this morning and I expect you to join us."<br />
<br />
"Why?" Saranda asked but Mum's icy look stopped her prepared objection.<br />
<br />
Saranda touched gently the faded carpet under her legs. Suddenly, there was silence after long periods of prayers. She breathed deeply edging closer to the fat Mrs Hysa's body next to her. For a second she dreamed that it was Granny praying there. Saranda looked desperately around. One of the covered girls in front row turned quickly back to smile at her encouragingly. It was Doha. Saranda lifted her chin and tried to grin back. The prayers started again. The strangeness descended all over her again hearing these words, which have not meaning for her.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-59192227449693825082011-06-18T08:12:00.000-07:002011-06-18T08:41:56.364-07:00PART THREE: STATEMENT OF FAITH 2001<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9tlG1vX0NWI/TfzA6xw6k-I/AAAAAAAAAtA/8O8DgxS-eRg/s1600/P4030780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9tlG1vX0NWI/TfzA6xw6k-I/AAAAAAAAAtA/8O8DgxS-eRg/s320/P4030780.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The next day Saranda had no chance to sneak out. Dad didn't allow her to leave the house because of her disobedience. She moved aimlessly around the kitchen putting dry dishes away. Victor followed her closely everywhere on his wobbly legs, what he had always done when Mum got sick. Saranda looked out of the window and caught the sight of Dardon talking to a kid from the neighbourhood.<br />
Dardon was so excited about tomorrow's trip with George that he kept boasting to everyone about it. Saranda felt awful. Victor kept taking out all the dishes she put back.<br />
<br />
"Victor, stop making a mess," she angrily grabbed the big pot from his hands: "Go and see Mum."<br />
<br />
"Mum sick." Victor looked at her with his big brown eyes.<br />
<br />
"Go to see if she is better, go!" She waved here hand and he ran through the corridor, but skidded on the rolled carpet and started to cry. When no one took notice of him, he stood up again on his wobbly legs and shoot straight into Mum's bedroom.<br />
Saranda sighed with a relief and started to cut some vegetables when Dardon came in looking sweaty and hot.<br />
<br />
"View!"He said: "It's old in here." Then he added: "Are you really not going tomorrow?"<br />
<br />
"No, and you know why?" She hissed from her spot.<br />
<br />
It was mystery to Dardon why Saranda looked so surprisingly unconcerned about missing the trip. But he knew there was no point to ask. After the conversation with Mrs Hysa she refused to take him anywhere. He felt hurt and left out and decided to watch her every step. Anyway, Dad said it is his responsibility to watch her. It doesn't matter that she is older than him. She was a GIRL.<br />
There was a silence and Saranda watched Dardon suspiciously as he picked his drink from the fridge.<br />
<br />
" No, why?" He finally asked.<br />
<br />
"Because you are a little kid," she pointed at him with a carrot: "you can't hold your mouth shut."<br />
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<br />
Suddenly they could hear Victor's cry from the Mum's bedroom. Dardon quickly disappeared in there. Soon he was back, followed by Victor, who skidded in the corridor, got up and they ended up playing tumble game on the kitchen floor. Victor accidentally hit the chair and started to cry loudly banging Dardon with his both little fists. Dardon laughingly pretended to be hurt.<br />
<br />
"Stop you two or Dad will come!" Saranda shouted but they couldn't hear her. lost in their shouting. Dad informed them last Sunday that he had started Islamic Studies University course by correspondence. He spent holiday's mornings locked in his Study and on the slightest noise he came out shouting at them. Saranda left the kitchen and burst into her Mum's bedroom.<br />
<br />
"Mum, come and do something, they are wild again, " she suddenly stopped and looked at the pale statue sitting at the corner of the bed: "Mum, come to cook something, it's nearly lunchtime." Saranda pushed the heavy curtains to let some light inside.<br />
<br />
"Leave the curtains and go away." Suddenly Mum opened her eyes and said almost savagely: "Did you hear me, leave me in peace."<br />
<br />
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<br />
Saranda turned around and opened her mouth, when suddenly she noticed the pile of cut out newspapers' articles in front of Mum. She slowly picked up one and started to read the headline:<br />
<i>600 FOUND IN MORINA GRAVE</i><br />
<i>Nick Hawton</i><br />
<i>Kosovo</i><br />
<i>Up to 600 Kosovo Muslims are thought to have been buried in the largest mass grave found in Kosovo.</i><br />
<i>The grave holds victims of the Morina massacre, and if the estimate is correct it would be twice as large as any grave found so far...</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i> </i>Saranda put it slowly back, hesitated for a while and then went out quietly closing door behind her. The house was quiet. Apparently the boys went outside or been told off by Dad. Waling through the corridor she could hear dad greeting someone at the front: "Salama lejkum, Doctor Polkin, welcome in our humble home..."<br />
Saranda rushed to the door to greet her new teacher of Science. Although he was not a Muslim but a Christian, he was well known and respected for his good humour and kindness among his students. Most surprisingly the Muslim teachers respected him too, for he was not only experienced scientist but also famous follower of Dr Pokinghornes' religious theory.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Saranda, nice to see you," he squizzed her hand and winked at her: "my best science student..."<br />
<br />
"She is very stubborn and free-minded," sighed her Dad and Saranda blushed.<br />
<br />
"That's what you need in science, don't you agree my friend?" Dr Polkin replied laughingly.<br />
<br />
"Let's go to my Study to discuss all the College matters," Dad beamed and showed the way. Saranda watched the way. Saranda watched him in amazement. He was so proud of his Deputy's position, his Islamic studies achievements, was he still proud of them too? And what about Mum? Oh, Mum, suddenly she realised that she forgot to tell him.<br />
<br />
"Dad!" She caught the door before he could close behind them: "Mum is...,she is not right again..."<br />
<br />
"Hush, not now Saranda," he whispered and closed the door. Saranda turned back when she heard the door again: "Saranda, bring us some coffee and some halal food," he turned back to see if Dr Polkin is not listening: "Better you tell Mum to get up and tell her we have a visitor staying for a lunch."<br />
<br />
Saranda went back to kitchen and had found Mum already there.<br />
<br />
"I've heard, " she muttered and wiped her tears: :Take this coffee there and come back to help with cuisine," Mum passed her the tray piled with food without looking at her.<br />
<br />
Leaving Saranda heard her praying: "Oh God, there is no God except you, please help me to get through another day."<br />
<br />
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<br />
Entering the Study she accidentally dropped the sugar bowl. She watched desperately how it hit the floor with big bang and broke into pieces, sugar spilling everywhere reaching the colourful rug where Dad and Dr Polkin were sitting. Holding the heavy tray tightly she approached them and put it on the small table in front of them. She was relieved that they hadn't noticed her at all apparently enaged in some religious argument.<br />
Dr Polkins' voice hammered across the room: "The world is not, as your religion would have us believe," he pointed his finger at Dad, "all just and illusion."<br />
<br />
"How can you prove the existence of God, as a scientist?"<br />
<br />
"You can't prove the existence or non-existence of God, " Dr Polkin scratched his forehead thinking and continued: "the idea of existence of God in an insight, not a proof."<br />
<br />
"What you can't prove stays always an illusion..or the proof for non-believers..."<br />
<br />
"It is an insight which explain a lot more about the things are that atheism can do."<br />
<br />
"How can you explain the connection between religion, not only Islamic but also Christian religion and science?"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Religion, I believe, gives a much broader and deeper view of reality than science can do on its own."<br />
<br />
There was a long silence as the both men were lost in their own thought. Saranda tiptoed from the room but before she reached the door, Dad waved at her:<br />
<br />
"Saranda tell Dardon to come here, it's time for him to learn something more about Islam."<br />
<br />
"Dardoon!" She was looking around the house, skidding on some spilled marbles. The house was white against the midday blue sky. It was really hot. Shielding her eyes she looked through the kitchen's window inside.<br />
<br />
Mum was looking at her, but her eyes couldn't see hers. Holding the wooden spoon half ways in the air she was looking at something beyond, something very far from them all.<br />
Suddenly Dad's Call to Midday Prayer entered the air outside:<br />
<i>God is most great. God is most great. I testify that there is no God except God. Come to prayer! Come to success in this life and the hereafter...</i><br />
Saranda suddenly wished so much that Granny's God could help them, it didn't really mattered to her if he was only an illusion or a real one, only if he could help her family to find their bond and love, which was lost somewhere on their way to the freedom.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91ZJU-AY_wk/TfzHEG7ybAI/AAAAAAAAAtk/zTyyEuWtY4o/s1600/P4030777.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91ZJU-AY_wk/TfzHEG7ybAI/AAAAAAAAAtk/zTyyEuWtY4o/s320/P4030777.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-44728545319344914472011-04-28T07:33:00.000-07:002012-05-24T01:51:31.737-07:00SORRY JUST ISN'T ENOUGH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
"It was a car accident, Jack," Saranda whispered remembering what George had told them on their visit.<br />
<br />
"How do you know, who you think you are, sticking your nose into other people's business," looking at her savagely, he put his hand into his jeans pocket and took out a carefully folded letter: 'You may as well read this."<br />
<br />
Saranda opened it with open curiosity, the top part was unreadable, there were brownish dried out patches, looked like spilled beer. She skipped with her eyes to the middle part, where the letters emerged: ...the biggest thing I have been dealing with is that she is dead and not coming back. I am so sorry but sorry just isn't enough, I just can't make up for it. I feel sorry for you, my son. I've taken her away from us. It's something I can't give back. It's impossible...the letters disappeared again but now they looked like washed by...tears?<br />
<br />
"Oh, again, Jacky whacky family story," Kathy boomed over them and Jack quickly grabbed his letter from Saranda's hands and put it back to his pocket.<br />
<br />
"So what about your bargain?" Jack glared at her angrily.<br />
<br />
"Bloody bastard, he chased me nearly up to here," Kathy was bubbling over with joy as she handed them the beers and chips.<br />
<br />
"Watch him, he's a real nasty one, you'll end up in jail," remarked Jack: "Gosh, I used to hate stealing, more than anything else..."<br />
<br />
"What's the matter with you?" Kathy opened the can and took a big gulp: "That's a beauty!" Her curls bounced about as she spoke.<br />
<br />
"Sorry, I don't drink beer." Saranda shyly handed back her can.<br />
<br />
"I'll be a monkey's uncle!" Kathy wiped the white stuff around her mouth: "Every child love beer in our settlement in the bush beyond Halls Creek."<br />
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<br />
<br />
"You mean the collection of wretched caravans and iron shacks along an old creek bed in the middle of nowhere?" Jack grinned at her.<br />
<br />
But Kathy continued ignoring him: "Mum used to cook our tucker on the fire. Then when it came night time, she would fill an old bathtub and all the little ones have a bit of a swim in it," she stopped watching dreamily the flock of seagulls fighting over a dead fish: "As a little kid I loved the camp but as I grew up I got itchy feet..."<br />
<br />
"Not only feet, I can tell you that..."Jack grinned at her again and she slapped him laughingly over his head with the empty can. When she turned back to Saranda her eyes were sad although her mouth was still twitched in a disappearing smile.<br />
"I got really depressed there," she continued and made a funny grimace that even Saranda couldn't suppress laughter.<br />
<br />
"Oh, you laughing lot, I wish to see you there," Kathy waved her hand: "I remember my drunken father came to where I was sitting and slapped me for nothing. He slapped me so hard it sounded 'bam' and knocked me over so I landed in the branches of a nearby bush. Once he hit me with his fist so hard that there's still a scar on my head here. Look." Kathy showed Saranda a big red mark. A single sob welled up from somewhere deep down and shook her shoulders.<br />
<br />
A big lump rose in Saranda's throat. She knew how Kathy was feeling. She suddenly held out her arms and hugged Kathy tightly.<br />
<br />
Kathy smiled at her broadly and continued: "One morning a truck came by on its way to Perth. I went over to the driver and asked for a ride. I looked older than I am so he agreed and here I am, happy as Larry."<br />
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<br />
<br />
They kept sitting there, heads together. Kathy studied Saranda. She like her, like her quiet soft foreign voice, he half-shy air and the suggestion that hung about Saranda of things seen and done. Jack watched Kathy with obvious disgust: "I think I better kick off, you drama queen..."<br />
<br />
"Jack," Saranda suddenly remembered something: "Could you come over early morning this Saturday, it's a long weekend, you know," she handed him a scrap of paper with her address: :Here, I mean if you have time to spare."<br />
<br />
He took the paper and put it in his pocket: "ep, why not, I have nothing against home cooked 'brekky'," he stretched lazily on the sand: "Can I stay for roasted lamb as well?"<br />
<br />
"Can I come too?" Kathy jumped up licking her lips.<br />
<br />
"Sorry guys, but my parents..."<br />
<br />
"Don't like homeless and especially Aboriginal ones, " Jack finished her sentence with a wink: "We heard this one so many times before, didn't we, Kath?"<br />
<br />
"No," Saranda shook her head, but Kathy looked doubtful. "Kathy, why you don't go to school?" Saranda quickly changed the unpleasant subject.<br />
<br />
"Her school days are over," Jack said. "She likes booze too much, and also..."<br />
<br />
"And what 'bout' you, dag, you don't?"<br />
<br />
"Give me something I can believe in and I'll stop."<br />
<br />
"Phew, what a whopper,"" Kathy sighed and then she turned to Saranda: "Look, here, I 'll show you something if you give me some dope..." she danced around Saranda holding her repaired tiny golden chain on her outstretched palm.<br />
<br />
"My golden sun, and it's repaired," Saranda grabbed it quickly from Kathy's hand and put it around her neck: "Look, I am really sorry..."<br />
<br />
"For what, I would not come anyway and him," Kathy pointed at Jack pretending to sleep on the sand: "He needs to wash somewhere anyway..."<br />
<br />
"What you talking about?" Jack jumped up and chased Kathy along the beach.<br />
<br />
When Saranda came home late that day, her face was beaming. Her Dad was waiting for her at the front and told her what she had already expected. She can forget the trip to York. She didn't mind, not now when Jack was coming....<br />
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Saranda left the main noisy road and swung into Lilly Street where the trees provided patches of shade along the way. All the same, the afternoon sun was blisteringly hot and she sweltered in her long jumper. Now she could see the weedy block of land in front, desolate and empty. Where was Jack? He promised to be here today. And Kathy? What if she will never meet her again, what if she will never return her golden sun? Suddenly she felt very weak. Half way down Saranda paused under the big eucalyptus tree and wiped her forehead.<br />
<br />
"What's up, Saranda?" Kathy asked sitting in its shade with Lucky by her side.<br />
<br />
"I hate your winter," Saranda flopped exhausted next to her: "Cold mornings and hot afternoons." Jack's blond head appeared from behind the tree trunk. They looked rested and in a happy mood, although dressed only in some T-shirts and baggy jeans.<br />
<br />
Kathy muffled Lucky's fur dreamily: "Soon we have to move to Uncle Toby's verandah for the nights, it's too cold to sleep on the streets."<br />
<br />
"Too bloody noisy for me," Jack scratched his dirty hair.<br />
<br />
"You can freeze here," Kathy snapped at him: "Or p.... off back home."<br />
<br />
Then they tossed a coin for their turn. Jack won and Kathy went to find a 'ten-ounce sandwich' for them. Saranda followed Jack and Lucky heading of to the beach.<br />
<br />
"What about going home?" She caught up with him: "To see George and your room, you know it's the same like you have left it...your medals and everything."<br />
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<br />
But Jack ignored her and moved on.<br />
<br />
"There is a crab." He suddenly stopped and lifted one of the rocks on the shore. Lucky sniffed underneath.<br />
<br />
"Will he bite me?" Saranda leaned forward with an outstretched hand, but hesitated for a second, afraid.<br />
<br />
"If you give him a chance." Aware of danger, the crab shot across the stones to the sea. Jack sat down with his arms round his legs and his chin resting on his knees staring at some surfers in thermo-suits having fun in the ocean: "What a dumper!" He suddenly pointed at the big wave that broke suddenly hurling the surfers down with great force: "Dad's always told me that I would become a champion surfer one day."<br />
<br />
"Do you miss him?"<br />
<br />
Jack had a faraway look on his face: "How do you know his name and my medals?"<br />
<br />
Saranda described her first meeting with George and her embarrassing exploring of George's house. She has also mentioned the trip to York on a long weekend. Jack listened carefully without any interruption, when he suddenly blurted out: "He killed my Mum, George, he's a bloody killer..." He shouted and put his head into his hands.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9TlNYUj1tUE/TZSHN3CYkLI/AAAAAAAAApY/nmI0PgPlFyE/s1600/P3070599+-Hamelin+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9TlNYUj1tUE/TZSHN3CYkLI/AAAAAAAAApY/nmI0PgPlFyE/s320/P3070599+-Hamelin+Bay.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-11275514171583082532010-10-05T22:03:00.000-07:002010-10-05T22:03:42.329-07:00So close and yet so far apart...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TKv_hV9v_CI/AAAAAAAAAi4/1u9AX0XVd64/s1600/PA020364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TKv_hV9v_CI/AAAAAAAAAi4/1u9AX0XVd64/s320/PA020364.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> <br />
<br />
<br />
When the school finished, Saranda saw the familiar car waiting outside her school.<br />
<br />
"Mrs Hysa," she screamed in panic and sat inside the car thinking something is wrong.<br />
<br />
"There you are," Mrs Hysa looked at her closely: "Nothing is wrong, only your Mum wants me to talk to .."<br />
<br />
"I have to pick up Dardon from the Upper Primary," Saranda quickly said.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I know, let's go," Mrs Hysa started the car and continued: "I would like you to be more considerated of your Mum's condition and also understand that you Dad is now extremely busy with his school's religious position, you have to be more helpful..."<br />
<br />
"More helpful!" Saranda shouted in dismay: "I have to help with all domestic chores, cooking and also Dardon with his homework, every day, while Dardon is playing soccer and enjoying himself..."<br />
<br />
"Everyone has different place and responsibilities in one's family," Mrs Hysa smiled at her gently: "And what about your mysterious disappearances from home?"<br />
<br />
"Everyone has right to breathe and find out about life, it's not fair that Dad pushing me to live up to his recent religious ideal, it's not me, I was not brought up that way!"<br />
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<br />
"It's the religion of our forbearers, of your Grandmother," Mrs Hysa sighed, "My family left Kosove before the Communists shut all the Mosques and I grew up here, where you can take it easy and forget where you come from." Mrs Hysa turned to Saranda and then quickly checked the lights at the crossroads: "Is this Dardon's Muslim school?"<br />
<br />
"Yep, just turn left after the intersection," Saranda pointed her hand on the left and continued: "I know all of that, Mrs Hysa, I only feel that Mum and Dad are not like they used to be, I wish sometimes to be back in Kosove and be little again, my Mum she is so..."<br />
<br />
"Your Mum is really worried, that something awful may happen to you and she promised to God to tell Dad if you once more leave the house without telling her where you go," Mrs Hysa shook her head in disagreement: "Dardon mentioned a friend of yours, a homeless kid?"<br />
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<br />
"Fine." Saranda clenched her teeth and looked out of the window thinking about her little dobbing brother.<br />
<br />
"Look, I can see Dardon," Mrs Hysa stopped the car and waived to the boy, then she turned to Saranda: "Try to understand, Saranda, your family clings to Islam, because there is only thing they got left," Mrs Hysa pulled at her scarf: "Your origin, your religion makes you who you are...oh, hi Dardon, how was school today?" She smiled when Dardon entered the car.<br />
<br />
"Gross, what's happening?" Dardon looked at Mrs Hysa hoping she takes them to some exciting place and he missed Saranda's hateful glare.<br />
<br />
"I'm only dropping you off home today, my little girl finishes her dancing lesson soon...but," Mrs Hysa winked at him: "Do you remember what George, your swimming instructor promised about visiting his parents in York and spending weekend there?"<br />
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<br />
"Yeep, but that was a few monts ago."<br />
<br />
"So he finally asked me to arrange this long weekend's trip with your parents, unfortunatelly you Mum feels too sick, and there is Victor...your Father is too busy..."<br />
<br />
"But, I want to go," Dardon exclaimed.<br />
<br />
"Who cares, what you want," Saranda said sharply.<br />
<br />
"Saranda," Mrs Hysa sighed impatiently: "Your parents gave me permission to take you ont the trip, both of you of course."<br />
<br />
Saranda nodded and looked out of the window. She thought about George missing his boy terribly and Jack, his boy, roaming streets aimlessly and sleeping rough under the bridge just few yards from his Father's flat. She imagined George looking out of the window on the dark bridge in disapearing light never realizing how close to home his son actually is. They are so close and so far apart.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TKwC92tx9UI/AAAAAAAAAjI/AjZwLxhTgDE/s1600/PA030479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TKwC92tx9UI/AAAAAAAAAjI/AjZwLxhTgDE/s320/PA030479.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-72659494483084269792010-09-13T05:50:00.000-07:002010-09-13T06:11:58.484-07:00DOHA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TI4g28MJI7I/AAAAAAAAAho/hkR0h5y57Fs/s1600/P8130080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TI4g28MJI7I/AAAAAAAAAho/hkR0h5y57Fs/s320/P8130080.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Saranda closely watched the girl sitting next to her. She was also new, in this country, in this Islamic College. Doha was her name. She was quiet and shy always hiding behind her white scarf. Sharp featured and dark-haired, Doha was aware of her fragile features and tine figure and liked to keep to herself, hiding behind other girls in their study group. Although it was well accepted in their College that girls didn't voice thier opinios only if asked, Doha avoided any opportunity to be noticed. In contrary Saranda had to often bite her lip not to shout her disagreement with her teachers.<br />
She was often criticised to be too wordy and other girls whispered behind her back that her confidence had boosted ever since her father was appointed a Deputy Principal at the College. It surprised Saranda enormously to see Doha join her to accompany the studetns from the Lower Primary school nearby to the Perth Museum. Saranda saw it as oportunity to escape the dully routine of prays and learning and worndered why Doha had joined her. Before she had a chance to ask their bus stopped in front the Thornlie Lower Primary Islamic College. Two groups of boys and two groups of girls have been already lined up waiting excitedly and as soon as the door opened the boys came rushing inside. Saranda was asked by their Islamic teacher to show them their seats on the right side.<br />
<br />
"Hi, Saranda, we are going to the museum in Perth, imagine we will go to see a real skyscraper..." One of the boys shouted excitedly in her ear. Saranda smiled at him and pushed him on the the back seat. Suddenly she heard a giggling from the left side where the girls had been seated. Doha was seated among them and her face was unusually bright.<br />
<br />
"Now, let's go," another teacher, an English lady came last: "I'll hope we haven't forgotten anyone." She smiled and quickly hid the loose strand of her hair under her scarf.<br />
<br />
She had to be new one, Saranda thought to herself, not used to wearing a scarf, like me. She felt a sudden empathy with the teacher, who was already walking through the bus pointing to the boys telling them to behave themselves. The bus moved and the boys yelled with excitement.<br />
<br />
"Come on everyone, look carefully in front of you, I wonder who will be the first one to spot a skyscraper?" She said in the microphone as the bus ran smoothly along the highway passing many suburbs with thousands of identical homes with shiny green lawns at the front.<br />
<br />
"I can see them, look." Once boy pointed through the front window where the three skyscrapers shone in the blue sky in the distance.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Huaaah, that's fantastic, look at the bright boats." Another boy exlaimed as they drove over the Swan River. White two story buildings lined the shore surrounded by fresh lush parks.<br />
<br />
Soon they reached the city centre and every kid in the bus pressed an excited face to the glass to catch a glimpse of the sleepy capital city of Western Australia. The bus stopped at a huge car park and the teachers guided the children through the glassed in walkway, which ran over the quiet colonial streets and the bustling shopping alleys. The boys stopped every minute and looked through the glass under their feet at the passing cars and colourful shops.The English teacher counted her children all the time with a worried look on her face.<br />
<br />
"Saranda, please, watch out for these boys on the back," she said and then turned to Doha surrounded by the girls.<br />
<br />
"Don't worry Ms Page," Doha smiled at her confidently and stopped to be the last one pushing the giggling girls in front of her: "Come on you."<br />
<br />
As they walked through a colonial train station, the boys begged Ms Page to come on the platform to see the city train. Ms Page soon realised the danger when some of the boys ran to the moving stairways blocking the way so people couldn't pass.<br />
<br />
"Come back at once!" Ms Page screamed in panic and rushed to bring them back leaving the girls with the other Islamic teacher. Saranda and Doha stood patiently nearby. They watched a group of teenagers gathering on the station, drinking, riding skateboards and laughing. Their clothes were fancy but dirty. Most of the teenagers were black, some whiter but with the same hair like Kathy. Suddenly two of them noticed them and started to skateboard in their direction. Saranda quickly moved in opposite direction to avoid them but Doha stood there watching them with a stone face. They circled around her pointing at her dress and scarf when the Islamic teacher approached them. They skated back, pulling faces and screaming something.<br />
<br />
"What did they say?" Doha asked the Islamic teacher when they joined back the group. Ms Kawa was standing there watching the leaving skate boys with a stern look. Saranda joined them and felt embarrassed at moving away.<br />
<br />
"I thought I could understand anything, I have been learning English for 8 years..."<br />
<br />
"Don't take notice of those unbelievers," the Islamic teacher patted her arm looking closely at her: "Our god always protects you."<br />
<br />
"I know that," Doha answered seriously: "He always did."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Now quickly to the museum and back to school, I think I've had enough for today."<br />
<br />
They had recess near the small fountain outside the museum. Then the museum staff took them inside. Saranda couldn't concentrate very much on the long list of information and pictures about the discovery of Australia becuase the group of boys hanged on her asking millions of questions. Later on, while the whole group admired the replica of the first ship, she slipped quietly to the other room, where their teachers decided not to take them because of some explicit pictures unsuitable for children.<br />
In the centre stood statues of a group of naked slim, dark people with kind, smiling faces. They looked like they were on a walk. The women were holding children and sticks in their hands. The men proudly held their spears and one of them was showing a lizard he had killed. She was struck with the statues. She slowly spelled the information under it: Native Australians.<br />
They looked similar to the people in Kathy's family, this older one could be Uncle Tom, but the statues looked much happier.<br />
<br />
"Now we enter the old way of life of Aboirginals before the white people came. They were peaceful people who shared everything and travelled a long distance to survive in this harsh empty land. We still admire their art and special ways of dealing with people and nature..." The group of people entered the room and the deep voice of their museum curator echoed on the walls.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Oh, look a cave man," the couple of boys from their group had sneaked after her.<br />
<br />
"Come on, we have to go back," she pushed them in front of her out of the forbidden room and together they ran through the museum to find their class.<br />
<br />
She was tired after the excursion and annoyed by the endless chatter of the children around her. Doha seemed to enjoy their company and looked more relaxed than ever. The kids touched everything excitedly in the museum shop until their teachers ushered them outside. Doha in one corner was looking at some T-shirts.<br />
<br />
"I wish I could buy one." Saranda stood next to her looking at one with the small painting of an Emu like from Uncle's Tom dotting picture.<br />
<br />
"I want to buy one for my brother, who is still in Iraq, missing, only God knows what happened to him..."<br />
Doha sighed and looked at Saranda's choice: "Impressive, these strange paintings, but our pictures back home are more colourful and joyful."<br />
<br />
"I like them, they reminds me of our old legends..." Saranda touched the empty spot on her neck and reminded herself to find Kathy. Suddenly someone grabbed her hand. It was one of the lower school's boys.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Come on, Saranda, we are leaving, the bus is here," he pushed her long school dress impatiently: "Come on you two or you will be in trouble."<br />
<br />
Saranda looked at Doha, who smiled at her mysteriously: "I will be there in a sec, just make some excuse for me, will you?"Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-44604340441539449522010-08-21T10:29:00.000-07:002010-08-21T10:29:11.996-07:00KATHY - AN ABORIGINAL GIRL<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/THAI15hMlbI/AAAAAAAAAhI/-zxF_LolWgI/s1600/P7120442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/THAI15hMlbI/AAAAAAAAAhI/-zxF_LolWgI/s320/P7120442.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Just as the first light appeared in the morning, they heard a scream.<br />
<i>"That was Mum</i>!" Saranda cried, jumping up from bed. "<i>Something's wrong!"</i> She ran to the door.<br />
<br />
"<i>It's one of her bad dreams</i>," Dad noticed her in the doorway of their bedroom.<br />
He was bending over Mum, who lay stretched out on the bed talking fast: "<i>They are all dead, the village is on the fire...heelp</i>!" Her eyes were closed, and she fell asleep. Before leaving Saranda checked Victor in his cot. He snored peacefully.<br />
<br />
"<i>What's going on?</i>" Dardon's figure in long pyjamas appeared in the corridor.<br />
<br />
"<i>It was only a nightmar</i>e," Saranda pushed him back to his room: "G<i>o back to sleep, today Mrs Hysa will </i>t<i>ake us to the museum.</i>"<br />
<br />
Saranda went back to her room and sat on her bed looking around. The dawn made everything misty and unreal. Her small room with a built-in-wardrobe, a simple desk and a tiny side table was full of shades. Suddenly she remembered the place, Jack had told her about. It took her only a minute to pull on her pants, long sleeve shirt and sneakers. She picked up her scarf and thought for a while. Finally she let it drop on the bed and tiptoed out of her room.<br />
Passing the main bedroom, she could hear Mum's quiet weeping. She hurried up to the front door. Outside a balck cat was crossing her path. It made her shiver. Saranda watched from their doorsteps as the edge of morning was beginning to break in the East. For a second or two she stood there sniffing the fresh air. She could tell that it was going to be a warm day. The front gate squeaked, so she turned back and listened. The simple white house was quiet in the dark.<br />
<br />
When she entered the deserted station, the first train had already been there. The view from the fast train gave her a sweaping picture of the old sleepy port ahead and the dark ocean beyond it.<br />
Saranda enjoyed being out in Fremantle alone. It made her feel part of real Australian life, and she started to wish secretly that she'd been born here. But then she touched her golden sun and felt guilty. Approaching the centre of town she felt like a ghost. The fancy apartments and colourful shops were dark and quiet as was the whole city.<br />
Only a few joggers passed her by. Saranda left the main street and swung onto a small side street. It was all a bit vague and hazy. Slowly she passed through it and found herself near the ocean. Saranda felt a sense of gentle peace under the rising sun. She sat down on the deserted beach. Nothing could have been more peaceful that the gentle waves of the Indian Ocean under that huge wakening Australian sky.<br />
<br />
"<i>Lucky, come back, Lucky!</i>" A big dog came dashing across the sand and leaped around her legs. Saranda froze looking into his huge curious face.<br />
<br />
"<i>I don't know whether she is scared or not...what do you think, Lucky?</i>" Kathy chuckled behind Saranda's back and hugged the dog tightly.<br />
<br />
"He gave me the creeps." Saranda smiled and patted his huge hairy back.<br />
<br />
"That's the point." Jack came and scratched the dog's ear gently. "He is our new guard dog, we found him a week ago, and he was starving and lucky to meet us."<br />
<br />
"Let's have breakfast." Kathy flopped next to Saranda and handed everyone hamburgers, including Lucky, who finished his in one bite. "There was good deal at Mac's today, one 'buck' only, she tried to explain with her mouth full.<br />
<br />
"You had no money." Jack pointed out.<br />
<br />
"So what, I pinched it from a tray," she winked at Saranda and then burst out laughing, her curly hair danced around her round, dark face.<br />
<br />
The breakfast was gobbled in bites between bursts of exciting talk. Saranda hadn't felt so free and happy for a long time. She touched her neck but the golden chain was not there. She rubbed her forehead with a worried hand.<br />
<br />
"Where is my chain, where is it?" Saranda burst out and jumped to her feet. Then as if she regretted the outburst, her voice became calmer. "It must be somewhere here..." They watched curiously as Saranda was digging in the sand.<br />
<br />
"<i>I know who this golden thing belongs to?"</i> Kathy started to laugh holding the chain above the dog's nose.<br />
<br />
In sudden anxiety Saranda turned and rushed at Kathy: "<i>You are a thief, give it back,"</i> she grabbed the chain.<br />
"<i>It's broken, my Granny, I have broken my promise.</i>" Her voice dropped to a whisper.<br />
<br />
They looked puzzled. Kathy sat next to Saranda and hugged her. A single sob welled up from somewhere deep down and shook Kathy's shoulders: "<i>Sorry, don't have anything so.</i>.." A big lump rose in her throat: "<i>So posh, I wanted only to try..</i>."<br />
<br />
"<i>It's supposed to bring me good luck,</i>" Saranda sobbed.<br />
<br />
"<i>Luck</i>," Jack said, "<i>only helps people who knows how to use it</i>." He took the chain form her hand and looked at the golden sun closely.<br />
<br />
"<i>The golden sun has been bringing life to the people of Kosovo for hundreds of years. When winter ends over there and spring is coming, the golden sun brings warmth, good spirit and life back to the mountain villages. It's a special sun. Magical."</i> To her own surprise Saranda found herself telling them the old Albanian legend about the golden sun.<br />
<br />
<i>"It's like one of the Kathy's Aboriginal stories,</i>" Jack said handing her back the broken chain:<i> "I can't fix </i>it."<br />
<br />
"<i>Come on."</i> Kathy said abruptly pulling Jack's back. "<i>Maybe uncle Toby can fix it, come on, Lucky, let's go home."</i><br />
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<br />
After they left the beach, Jack shot up another street and fetched four cream buns from a shop and they munched them siting on the pavement near the Fremantle Market. The entrance filled up with first people looking for some fresh fish and vegetables.<br />
After a while the first families appeared, strolling by in the sunshine, stopping occasionally to chat to some friendly faces enjoying their breakfast on the cafe strip.<br />
<br />
<i> "I hate these Sundays, can you imagine, me as a boy, doing the same with my Dad and Mum, when she was</i> alive..." Jack spat on the pavement and chucked his half finished bun in a nearby bin.<br />
<br />
<i>"I think I can see my cousin playing the Didgeridoo inside,</i>" Kathy jumped out and Lucky waved his tail ready to follow her. <i>"You stay here!" </i>Kathy pointed at him and ran inside the market.<br />
<br />
Jack and Saranda turned around to see playing dark figure in the middle of the shopping hall surrounded by a few tourists. He was blowing into a long wooden tube making strange deep music. Some of the shoppers stopped and put some coins into his old hat.<br />
Kathy bent next to his ear and he made some signs with his fingers without stopping to play.<br />
Soon she was back and waved them to follow her. When they reached the bus station a group of Aboriginal women and children were sitting and chattering on the benches aside. the little ones had round cheeks and curly hair and they could never keep still. Kathy and Jack joined them but Saranda stayed aside watching them with open curiosity.<br />
<br />
Suddenly an old yellow sedan stopped next to them. A driver, an old man in tattered T-shirt, started to shout at the group. She heard hurrying footsteps and someone grabbed her hand. They all managed to climb in and the vehicle took off with a roar. Saranda found herself squished between two jolly women, one had a restless baby who jumped on her knees. The car echoed with singing and laughter. She couldn't understand their strange English, but she didn't feel uncomfortable.<br />
The car suddenly stopped and the women hurried out picking up their shopping bags and babies. The rented house was surrounded by ground overgrown with weeds. There were some old men sitting on the shabby verandah. Their boisterous noise and laughter knew no end.<br />
<br />
"Now, let's go in." Kathy said after she hugged half of the family. The inside was as crowded and noisy as the outside of the moderate house. Saranda tried to follow Kathy through the living room full of smiling children and surprisingly found Jack and Lucky playing with them happily.<br />
<br />
"<i>Uncle Toby, uncle Toby,</i>" Kathy screamed as they entered the small backyard. The old, dark man was painting something on the ground.<br />
<br />
"<i>Hullo, Miajna Kadi, your uncle is happy to see you."</i> He turned around and smiled so brad that they could see his missing teeth. he held a small stick in his hand as he raised his dark arm in greeting.<br />
<br />
"What does it mean...let's me guess, a myall on some walkabout and there...there he found a waterbird's egg." Kathy pointed excitedly to a colourful picture full of white dots.<br />
<br />
"<i>He lived a long time ago on his tribal land, before the white fellow came and started to live on this land that didn't belong to him.</i>.." the old man sat with his legs crossed, his eyes closed and started to talk in broken English.<br />
<br />
In some way Saranda found the story similar to the tales from her homeland, which she had lost. Suddenly the kids came screaming outside chased by Jack and Lucky. realising that it was the Dreamtime story time, they sat down around Uncle Toby and stayed quiet until he finished.<br />
Jack found a place on the doorstep. Soon a tall boy about his age joined in with a didgeridoo: "<i>Come on,</i> <i>Tajurra, you haven't practised it for a long time</i>," he handed the instrument laughingly to Jack.<br />
<br />
Jack tried to blow it and managed a couple of deep sounds. When the boy started to play, a powerful and strange music filled the whole area. The children started to move with the rhythm of the music pretending to be an Emu picking some seeds and a hopping Kangaroo. Saranda kept sitting next to Uncle Toby, who was starring now curiously at her jeans. She smiled shyly and noticed that a piece of her long-forgotten scarf popped out from her pocket. He gestured to her to give it to him.<br />
<br />
"<i>Interesting," </i>he exclaimed studying closely the details of the Islamic design on the scarf: "<i>Made in Pakistan, hmm</i>," Uncle Toby looked at her again with a broad smile: "<i>I think, I will take it."</i><br />
<br />
"<i>Fine,</i>" Saranda shook her head in disbelief, what in earth he could see on this piece of head cover, "<i>I have plenty of them at home.</i>"<br />
<br />
"<i>Tajurra, Miajna Kadi and your friend, if you need a lift, I'm leaving now,</i>" someone yelled next to the outside door. Kathy jumped and took the golden chain from Saranda's hand.<br />
<br />
"<i>Oh, Uncle Toby I need you to fix this, I'll come back to pick it up later, thanks.</i>" She put the chain in front of him. He put it in his pocket and continued to paint.<br />
<br />
<i>"Let's go.</i>" She pulled a surprised Saranda and they ran until they saw the moving car and Jack trying to jump in.<br />
<br />
"<i>Wait, waait for us.</i>" Kathy waved and soon they squished into the crowded car. saranda was sweating and the heat outside reminded her that it was almost lunchtime.<br />
<br />
"<i>Thornlie, could you please tell the driver to take me there,</i>" she shouted in Kathy's ear over the noise.<br />
<br />
Soon she saw familiar train station and one of the streets close to her house: "<i>Hey, stop here</i>." Saranda shouted from the back and turned to Kathy: "<i>My house is on the next street, thanks for the trip and..."</i><br />
<br />
"<i>See you next time 'somewhere in the great outdoors',</i> " Kathy winked at her as she jumped from the moving car. Saranda waved until the Aboriginal singing and laughing disappeared with the car and she suddenly felt very lonely.<br />
<br />
She entered their front yard. There was no one there. The clinking of the cutlery inside reminded her of lunch and their prayer time. Saranda entered the house in a sudden panic and ran through the corridor as fast as she could. At the end she bumped into Mrs hysa, who was holding Victor in her arm: "<i>Where've you been, you're lucky your Dad huried to Morque early morning and didn't find out..."</i><br />
<br />
"<i>Saranda, we were supposed to go to the museum and because of YOU.</i>.." Dardon peeped out of his room at her but Mrs Hysa patted his hair: "<i>It's OK, Dardon, we can go next time, anyway, your Mum doesn't</i> <i>feel very well,"</i> she looked back at Saranda: "<i>You better go and help you Mum with lunch, you Dad will be here any minute."</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/THAKymb791I/AAAAAAAAAhQ/tHN0sZPlti8/s1600/P3010139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/THAKymb791I/AAAAAAAAAhQ/tHN0sZPlti8/s320/P3010139.JPG" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-66531991089597309002010-07-08T18:04:00.000-07:002010-07-08T18:08:05.201-07:00WELCOME TO DARK AND SHADOWLESS WORLD<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TDZ2YvPNXnI/AAAAAAAAAdY/FUSgYDiMSpk/s1600/P4053065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TDZ2YvPNXnI/AAAAAAAAAdY/FUSgYDiMSpk/s320/P4053065.JPG" /></a></div> The sky was dull and grey with black and purple tingles. Saranda felt along their low spiky fence with her hand till she found the gate. The front litghts from Mrs Hysa's car outlined the path to their house. They had moved<br />
one week ago to Thornlie, closer to Perth and the Muslim College, where Dad was teaching. They were part of<br />
Muslim community now, but Saranda still missed Mrs Hysa's house on the outskirt of Fremantle.<br />
<br />
"Saranda," Mrs Hysa's whisper was uncertain in the darkness of the car. Saranda craned around, trying to see<br />
her. Suddenly Dardon got out off the car. He almost fell over her. It was still pitch black. The moon had not yet risen. "Watch out, that's my foot!"<br />
<br />
"Did you find it?" His voice sounded sleepy.<br />
<br />
"I think, I did," she muttered touching th smooth cold handle and pushed it. Mrs Hysa's car smoothly passed<br />
them inside and they both closed the gate behind it.<br />
<br />
Saranda had persuaded Dad to allow them to visit Mrs Hysa in Fremantle on the weekend. They had intended<br />
to go shopping together, but Joyce was sick, so Mrs Hysa let them to go by themselves. Saranda found Kathy and Jack on their usual weekend spot in the park opposite the Esplanade hotel and together they went out to spend Saranda's shopping money.<br />
<br />
"It was the most irresponsible thing to do, leave Mrs Hysa to worry about you and cause her troubles by your late arrival," Dad's sharp voice hammered at them from the lighten verandah.<br />
<br />
"Look, just take it easy for a sec, they are safely back," Mrs Hysa got off her car and patted his arm.<br />
<br />
"It's my responsibility to be sure they don't do it again." Dad's said with a stone face. Mrs Hysa blinked in surprise and looked at them doubtfully.<br />
<br />
Saranda blushed fiercely as they followed them acorss the front room full of Muslim men, their neighbours. Dardon stubled as he entered. She took his arm to steady him as they greeted the visitors with little bow and pray: "Salama Lejkum..."<br />
<br />
Mum looked up quickly as she entered the room with a pot of tea. Saranda's tongue felt thick and dry in her mouth, as she looked desperately around the room at all the silent and unproachable faces.<br />
<br />
Mrs Hysa waved to them from the corridor to follow Dad into his Study. Saranda hoped she would stay with them, but she disappeared inside the kitchen.<br />
<br />
"You know very well how to behave when you are somewhere on a visit and even more if you are supposed to look after your younger brother." Dad shook his head and turned his back to them. Saranda bit her lips, willing her father to hug and forgive her.<br />
<br />
"Did you buy what you were asked to?" He turned back and looked at her sternly.<br />
<br />
"We have been at 'Quazar' and the Ice-creamery shop, it was so exciting...all these laser machines...boom, boom and we have real big friends..." Dardon tried to explain, but Saranda put her finger on her lips and he suddenly stopped.<br />
<br />
"No, I forgot all about school stuff, I am sorry." She looked at Dad who didn't seem to notice Dardon's talking. He pointed him to leave the room. Dardon bowed his head and quietly closed door behind him.<br />
<br />
"Give me my money back!" Dad opened the palm of his hand in front of her.<br />
<br />
"I don't have it any more. It's entirely your fault. Why can't you, just once, help with shopping, Mum can't speak English and ...it's unfair always ask Mrs Hysa for help," Saranda shouted back noticing too late the anger in his eyes.<br />
<br />
He hit her hard with his fist. She stumbled and landed on the sofa.<br />
<br />
"Don't talk to me like that ever again!" The tone of his voice told Saranda that was the end of the matter. He left to join his guests.<br />
<br />
Disappointment sobbed inside her as she picked up the torn golden chain. It was almost impossible to fix the part with her shaking hands. She hastily put it on and touched the golden sun. If only she could ask Granny. She would know what to do. She always did.<br />
<br />
<i>That night Sarnada had a strange dream. She watched herself, Mum and Dad walk along their path to a road. Then they parted and went their separate ways. Dardon sreamed, took Victor into his arm and run from one to the other, then he followed her. She could hear his crying closer and closer so she started to run. FDinally she lost them. She was there all by herself, all on her lonesome. It was a terrible feeling. The world was dark, shadowless and cold.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>She turned back and run as fast as she could...back.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-35796147626105683382010-06-30T21:06:00.000-07:002010-06-30T21:06:52.139-07:00UPDATE IN THE CONTEXT OF THE WARS IN THE FORMER YUGOSLAVIA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TCwUF1rbpyI/AAAAAAAAAbA/wcIA43wvJCM/s1600/P9060190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TCwUF1rbpyI/AAAAAAAAAbA/wcIA43wvJCM/s320/P9060190.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
During the final months of the Bosnian War, nearly 8,000 Muslim men and boys were systematically killed in the fallen U.N enclave of Sebrenica - the worst European massacre since WWII. On June 10, 2010 tow high ranking Bosnian Serbe were convicted for those 1995 killings. Their Judge said: "<i>In the context of human history, these events are arrestive in their scale and brutality. These acts were committed with intent to destroy in whole or in part a national, ethnical, racial and religious group."</i><br />
<br />
Many high ranking officers responsible for massacres in previous Yugoslavia are still in hiding and many will never be caught. Justice will never be served as it always happens. Writing Saranda's story I realized it. She survived and grew up to help her people and her nations.<br />
<br />
IGNORANCE IS HUMANITY'S GREATEST ENEMY. Therefore it is important to remember these modern day attrocities which are happening now as well in different parts of our ustable world, we live in.<br />
<br />
YOUR CHARACTER IS YOUR FATE. I have an urge to remind people about attrocities so we can together work on more peaceful and stable world.<br />
<br />
Thank you for listening to me...next chapter of Saranda's story will continue next week:)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-81048367222024801412010-06-25T00:48:00.000-07:002010-06-25T01:01:15.635-07:00LOST June 2000<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TCRiLRztlXI/AAAAAAAAAag/UU5oLKPNoOw/s1600/P1010039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TCRiLRztlXI/AAAAAAAAAag/UU5oLKPNoOw/s320/P1010039.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
It's still too hot, Saranda thought as she walked next to Mum and Mrs Hysa through the narrow crowded South Terrace and listening to their conversation about Islam. She was mad at Mum, who didn't allow her to leave the house without a scarf and a long sleeve shirt any more. Mum, pushing the pram with Victor, was apprehensive about meeting another Muslim women in a nearby Tea room. She pulled nervously her scarf and asked Saranda to be nice and polite when meeting the ladies.<br />
<br />
Saranda looked at her pale face and suddenly felt sorry for her Mum. She was lost just like her. Islam was just a safety net, thrown to her by her husband, something to hold on to. Still boys have it so much easier. Saranda looked behind to see Dardon running and bumping into people.<br />
<br />
" And what about him," she pointed at Dardon: " he wants to go to 'Time Zone."<br />
<br />
" But, please Mum, I want Saranda to go with me, instead of Mrs Hysa," he caught up with Mum and pulled at her sleeve pleadingly.<br />
<br />
" I thought you go with me, Dad would be pleased and Mrs Hysa is not really interested in Islam, you know..."<br />
<br />
" Me neither," Saranda interrupted Mum: " I have already learnt a lot at College and anyway I need to go shopping first...I need some stuff for school tomorow..."<br />
<br />
" Let's go shopping then," Mum turned and pushed the pram back to Wolwoorth store, leaving them catching up.<br />
<br />
Inside the Shopping Centre it was cool and noisy. Mum dragged them behind Mrs Hysa caught in a shopping spree. Mrs Hysa loved bargain. As they waited patiently until she chose what she wanted, Saranda noticed some girls in shiny minidresses, who seemed familiar. These awful girls from her previous High School!<br />
<br />
" Quick, have a go, there is the exit," she grabbed Dardon's hand and they ran out into the full car park.<br />
<br />
" Are we going to run away?" Dardon asked excitedly as he noticed the free map of Fremantle in her hand from the shopl<br />
<br />
" Of course not, you silly," she turned her head resolutely, " go back and tell Mum, that we meet her in the Tea room, tell her I know the way and ask for some money to Time Zone, " Saranda watched him to leave and shouted behind him: " She always gives you, what YOU want, you spoiled brat."<br />
<br />
She took her scarf and folded up her sleeves. Suddenly she felt much better. Dardon came back and blinked but Saranda stopped him before he could ask: " If you open your mouth, it's last time I take you somewhere, you dobby, dobby," she looked at him and then back at the map: " I can't find the 'Time Zone".<br />
<br />
Dardon lowered his head in disappointment.<br />
<br />
" Don't worry, we'll find the way."<br />
<br />
It was a hot day. A crowd of strangers walked nearby as they reached another and another street.<br />
<br />
" Saranda, I am thirsty, are we lost?" Dardon sat down on a bench in front of one of the old houses with a broken white picked fence.<br />
<br />
" Stop whinging..." Saranda clutched the map in her hand: " Wait, what's the name of this one, L-i-lly Street."<br />
She looked around. Lilly Street was dotted with old residents of all origins leaning outside their brightly painted houses. Saranda spotted a dirty vacant land between two properties. Another home for Kathy and Jack, she suddenly thought.<br />
<br />
An old lady was watching Dardon from her flowered tiny verandah: " Poor boy, you look thirsty, wait right here," she turned back and murmured something on her way inside. In a little while Dardon held in his hand a cold glass frull of icy water.<br />
<br />
" Thank you," Saranda said joining Dardon on the bench, but the lady shuffled back. The tiny door banged behind her. They left the empty glass on the bench and moved on.<br />
<br />
At the far end of the street they were stuck in the middle of traffic noise and rushing people. Among the strangers Saranda recognised a boy.<br />
<br />
" Jaack, Jack...!" Saranda rushed after him leaving Dardon behind.<br />
<br />
" Hey, kid," he was starring at her now and she felt stupid.<br />
<br />
" I don't know, if you remember me, we met about a month ago and you lend me some money..and you said I could stick with you and Kathy..you know...to survive."<br />
<br />
" Survive," Jack repeated in his absent minded voice and his blue eyes looked somehow darker: " In fact you could survive almost anything if you put your mind to it, I've tried to explain this to Kathy...anyway do you know where she is?"<br />
<br />
" No, me and my brother, where is he?" Saranda turned aroudn in panic: " He wanted to go to 'Time Zone' and..." She searched the crowd behind her when Jack suddenly caught her arm.<br />
<br />
" Hey, that's look like him..." he pointed at a scared boy standing on the opposite road to them. He caught their eyes and Saranda waved at him. Jack stared at them when she introduced Dardon. For a long time he was silent as he forgot the world around him.<br />
<br />
Saranda took the note from Dardon's pocket and gave him warning look to stop his complaining: " Jack, that's yours, thanks."<br />
<br />
" 'Quazar' is better than 'Time Zone', I haven't been there for ages," he suddenly cheered up: " Let's go, now we have some money to spend."<br />
He left and they had to run to catch up with him.<br />
<br />
It was fun. Jack often burst at laugh watching Dardon's play: " He is so scared, I love it!"<br />
<br />
" Dardon, stop acting like idiot," Saranda felt ashamed for her younger brothe, who patted himself proudly on the chest after he hit Jack, but he didn't mind.<br />
<br />
They nearly missed Mum and Mrs Hysa, who waited impatiently in front of the already closed 'Tea Room' for their return. Saranda in a hurry put beck her scarf and warned Dardon not to open his mouth. Approaching them, she saw Mrs Hysa's frightened look and she met Mum's tired eyes as she took the screaming hungry Victor from her arms. Saranda knew that Dad would be again mad at her, but it didn't matter at all. She had found Jack!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-80050536206083282732010-06-11T06:06:00.000-07:002010-06-11T06:13:13.346-07:00ALBANIANS AND AUSTRALIANS - What do they have in common?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TBI1pc0SzOI/AAAAAAAAAYI/tXRvwGfY1JM/s1600/P4270082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/TBI1pc0SzOI/AAAAAAAAAYI/tXRvwGfY1JM/s320/P4270082.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
Next Sunday morning they went to visit George. Mrs Hysa offered to take them there in her big, white Holden as Dad's old car broke down. Slowly moving through the inner city they passed many restaurants and evening entertainment places. All which were now closed and quiet. They passed a couple of bar girls walking home from their niht shifts.<br />
<br />
" Oh, I don't know how these girls can dress so immodestly," said her Mum watching them from the corner of her scarf. After that she gave her full attention to Victor, who woke up in his 'child safety seat' and demanded his bottle.<br />
<br />
" Here we are," Mrs Hysa stopped the car in front of a inner Fremantle apartment: " It used to be a warehouse here and now look..."<br />
<br />
" Very interesting.," her Dad looked up at the two-storey iron-and-glass building: " You can sqeeze a hundred people here."<br />
<br />
" I don't think so," laughed Mrs Hysa: " Australians like their space, mostly singles live here, just like George."<br />
<br />
When George saw their car from his glassed first floor, he came rushing down the sairs and opened his sliding door: " Hello, nice to see you," he squeezed Dad's hand and turned to Saranda: " My sweetheart, translate to your Mum that I am very happy to see her."<br />
<br />
" Gee, you live in a submarine," Dardon screamed in excitement as they entered the down-stairs living area made of black steel and glass. He examined for a while a big shell and then stopped in front of a huge aquarium.<br />
There was a colourful wall painting of the sea above it: " Look, Saranda, what do they call these in the English?...Merr...<br />
<br />
" Mermaids, you silly billy and stop shouting," Saranda pushed him forward and they followed the others upstairs.<br />
<br />
The family was standing at the massive iron windows admiring the panoramic views of the city. Dardon, in the meantime touched the mirror and..." Look, Saranda it's a sliding mirror door, let's see, what is behind." He had already disappeared behind it.<br />
<br />
" Wait, Dardon, you can't go in there..." She pushed the mirrror and entered a big main bedroom:<br />
" Dardoon, where are you?"<br />
<br />
" Come here, it's a boy's room, gee, he is surely lucky to have all this stuff..auch." Something hit the ground with a big bang.<br />
<br />
" Dardon, what are you doing?" Saranda followed the noise through a luxurious bathroom. Finally she had found Dardon in the end room behind a huge surfboard.<br />
<br />
" Saranda, please help me out, it's really heavy, I don't know how they use it. Oh, that's better ugh..."<br />
<br />
" Are you O.K.?" Saranda asked as she looked around. It was surely a boy's room filled with stuff that any boy would long for...at least any boy in Kosovo.<br />
<br />
" Look, a new skateboard and computer...have a look, there is a TV with Nintendo, could we play, please?"<br />
<br />
" No, we have to go back, come on..." Saranda turned around to leave the room, when she noticed a big photograph of a blond boy on a surf beach. He had a gold medal around his neck. There was something familiar about his face. She went closer. It was Jack.<br />
<br />
" Saraaanda, Daaardon, where are you?" Mum's worried voice echoed in the room. Saranda quickly grabbed Dardon's hand and rushed out through the bathroom and bedroom.<br />
<br />
" There you are, you cheeky monkeys!" Mrs. Hysa met them near the mirror's door.<br />
<br />
" Sorry, Mrs. Hysa..." Saranda was too tongue-tied to say anything else.<br />
<br />
" Where have you been?" Dad looked sternly at Saranda.<br />
<br />
" We, wee have been looking for toilet, yes, Dardon needed to to, so..."<br />
<br />
" No, I didn't," protested Dardon at once and Saranda slapped his hand secretly. Why her brother never gets anything, she thought angrily, while Dad kept watching her sternly under his dark thick eyebrows.<br />
<br />
" To tell you the truth, Saranda, I don't believe you any more..." Dad pointed to the corner of the sofa:<br />
" You will sit there for the rest of this visit and don't you dare move."<br />
<br />
" There is always trouble with you kids, oh, may god help us." Mum added sadly and patted gently Victor's head, who fall asleep in her arm.<br />
<br />
" We forgot about our religion, about our tradition..." Dad stormed at Mum: " We forgot how to raise them properly, like Granny wanted us to do, according to the Koran."<br />
<br />
" It's not late, we can still do it," protested Mum weakly.<br />
<br />
Dad looked up at Saranda coldly: " And we will, be sure of that."<br />
<br />
George asked Mrs. Hysa to translate to him what all the fuss was about. All he could do was take another beer from an esky on the bar and scratch his head: " You know, Mrs Hysa, I have lost my wife in a car accident two years ago, which was caused by me. My son ran away from home and I barely noticed, too depresssed to care about anything anymore..."<br />
<br />
" I'm sorry, George, really sorry," said Mrs Hysa and then she turned around to translate it to Mum.<br />
<br />
They looked at him in amazement. Finally Dad said: " That's horrible, George, but it's not your fault, maybe it was God's will, but in our culture children have to obey their parents no matter what."<br />
<br />
George passed the kids some icy orange juice looking at them with deep understanding: " Everyone has something new to learn, doesn't matter which country they come from, agreed, mates?" He winked at them. But Saranda kept her eyes on the carpet, where Victor, freshly awake, was crawling following its geometrical pattern.<br />
<br />
Then George turned to their parents with a full plate of chicken rolls: " My perents were strict with me too. I had to work hard on the farm in York, do you know where that is?"<br />
<br />
" I have no idea, I haven't been anywhere yet, but I'd love to see some farming here, we have..no, we had a small farm back home." Dad nodded.<br />
<br />
" Oh, it's a pity, I'll take you there, my parents still live there in an original Australian farm house."<br />
<br />
" That's great, George, you and farmer?" laughed Mrs Hysa taking another roll from the plate: " If I put on weight, George, it will be all your fault."<br />
<br />
" I am a fifth-generation Australian. My family started farming in York in the 1880. Unbelievable, and you see I am obsessed with the ocean."<br />
<br />
" The Albanians in Kosovo have a long tradition of farming too, but the conditions are very, very poor there," Dad suddenly added.<br />
<br />
Joyce twirled around the room singing a catchy song in Albanian.<br />
<br />
Mrs Hysa clasped her hands happily: " My daughter can speak Albanian now."<br />
<br />
" I taught her this song." Dardon joined her proud as a peacock and they swirled fast around the room. Suddenly Joyce lost her footing and fell down crying.<br />
<br />
George picked her up quickly and handed her a big lolypop. For that he was rewarded by a big smile.<br />
<br />
" That's better Joyce," he laughed and sat her down on the couch next to Saranda, then he turned to Dad and handed him another Coca-Cola: " I bet the country, you come from has some pretty long history, not like here.."<br />
<br />
" You bet, George," Mrs Hysa said proudly: " We are the direct descendents of the Illyrians who held vast territories covering all of the Westeren Balkans in 2000 B.C."<br />
<br />
" That's true," added Dad: " The name 'Albania' comes from the name of the ancient Illyrian tirbe who lived in Albania and Kosovo in 200 AD and now Serbs tell us we have no right to live there."<br />
<br />
" English is..." Mum had no idea what they had been taling about and tried to join in.<br />
<br />
George noticed her embarrassment and quickly joined in to save her: " ...terrible language to learn, I totally agree," he winked at her: " I have been always bad i nspelling, I can tell you that."<br />
<br />
" I can help you to learn Albanian, George," Mrs Hysa laughed: " if you teach me how to do these amazing chicken rolls."<br />
<br />
George spread his arms laughing: " One language is more than enough for me, I am still not very good at it anyway."<br />
<br />
Everyone cheered up. The little Victor giggled happily when Joyce handed him a bag of chips. Saranda sipped a little bit of juice and started to feel better.<br />
<br />
" Saranda, ded yhou hear, George is a farmer and he has problems with spelling, just like me." Dardon whispered to her ear but she turned her back to him.<br />
<br />
It was all his fault anyway. She was alswyas the scapegoat because she was the eldest, and a girl. It was not fair. But neither was it that Jack ran away from home and left geroge grieving alon. Saranda couldn't stop thinking about Jack for the whole week.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-79179624280254120582010-05-19T22:12:00.000-07:002010-05-19T22:12:47.605-07:00DO YOU REMEMBER THE FREEZING, SNOWY WINTER IN KOSOVO?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/S_TEqvMXcPI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/0UPHoAqnqcY/s1600/PC160065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/S_TEqvMXcPI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/0UPHoAqnqcY/s320/PC160065.JPG" /></a></div> <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Saranda peeping out the widnow and touching her golden chain whispered to the darkness: " If I were a golden ray of ligth I could see you Granny up in the sky..."<br />
Then she turned to Mum lyaing the table in the dining room: " I wonder what she is doing there?"<br />
<br />
" Poor Mrs Hysa is trying to prepare tradtional feast, you know, she is so bighearted for allowing us to stay<br />
for so long in her hours..." her Mum muttered assuming that she asked about their hostess: " Where is Dardon<br />
so long, he went to find Dad and ...?" she peeped into the coridor, where Joyce was pushing Victor in his pram.<br />
<br />
" Our Dad is no the verandah like always talking about Islam and doing nothing..."<br />
<br />
" Saranda, watch your mouth, who are you to be making judgment on your Father?" Mum eyed her sternly:<br />
" It is so hard to find a proper work here."<br />
<br />
Saranda opened her mouth as though to answer back, suddenly shut it again to smell the fresh baked cake from the kitchen opposite.<br />
<br />
Mrs Hysa peeped into the dining room: " Come on, girls, our guests will be here in a minute." She put more plates on the traditionally set table, where Mum was standing lost in thoughts: " I know you feel you can't cope, but it's not going to get easier if you don't start to learn English, your husband speaks pretty well..."<br />
<br />
" You know what my husband thinks now: " Muslims have religion always uppermost in their minds."<br />
<br />
" God help me, but sometimes I am relieved that my husband is in heaven," Mrs Hysa shook her head: " You can still help me in my cleaning business, you know extra hands are always needed, but..."<br />
<br />
" You helped me a lot already," Mum touched Mrs. Hysa arm: " My husband has been offered a teaching position at the Islamic College so we are going to look for a house to rent somewhere close by..."<br />
<br />
" So therefore he is so absorbed in our religion, now, hm.." Mrs Hysa laid the bowls full of nibbles on the table: " It's good for me and Joyce to have your company, we miss you, you know?"<br />
<br />
Mum smiled and nodded sadly.<br />
<br />
" But still, you should go out more...you know visit the Play Group near us with little Victor, he needs to play with other kids and you need friends too..." Mrs Hysa refused to give on the matter, but Mum shook her head and wiped the sweat from her neck.<br />
<br />
" Oh, I can not stand this hot weather," she changed the subject quickly: " Saranda do you remember the freezing, snowy winter in Kosovo?"<br />
<br />
" What is the point of being cold?" Saranda interrupted her and turned back to the window. It was pitch black outside.<br />
<br />
Joyce came to sit next to her. The car's headlights shone on their driveway like two small stars. " The first visitor is coming! " She jumped from the sofa.<br />
<br />
" It's good to be here. Oh, and that smell from the kitchen, what it is...a national surprise?" Their Australian neighbours and friends came in holding the esky full of beer and beef sausages fro a barbie. Then others kept coming, the Kosovo's migrants holding plates full of meat dishes and their kids...a lot of new people Saranda could not recognise. Among them she noticed some Islamic teachers in headscarves and long sleeve dresses from her new College.<br />
<br />
" Boy, I am sick of so much food..." The pale Serbian boy with big curious blue eyes grinned across the table. Saranda smile back.<br />
<br />
" Don't at him, he is our enemy, you remember back home...Serbs..." Dardon's usually dark face was pale with anger.<br />
<br />
" What's the matter with you?" Lisa approached them. " I want to meet you Ilja Iljovic, the son of friends of mine. He could not wait to meet you Dardon and he has something for you."<br />
<br />
Dardon's face was expressionless, when the boy handed him a model of a sport car. Saranda just sat around watching and listening. People mingled and talked to each other in three different languages but no one seems to mind. She could hear Arabic from the teachers' corner, where her Dad passionately discussed his new knowledge of religion. Dad has changed so much from their Kosovo years that she barely recognized him anymore. She had no chance to sneak out and return money to Jack. Now she attended the Islamic College instead of that awful High School. But she felt alienated even more, unable to speak Arabic and forced to wear a scarf at school?<br />
<br />
Saranda went outside where the night breeze was mixing with the smell of grilled beef and lamb. Suddenly she thought about her Granny again and her special dish, she used to prepare for them on special family occasions. Maybe Dad was right, maybe it's the best way to remember Granny by following her Islamic traditions. She always wanted them to believe, but not this way...Granny's religion was different.<br />
<br />
" Come on sweetheart, you have to try the real Aussie barbie," Dardon's swimming instructor with the unshaved sunburnt face winked at her as he handed her a plate.<br />
<br />
She nodded gratefully and took it when suddenly Mum was standing next to her, holding the screaming Victor in her arm: " I can't make the special Granny's desert, it looks so different, what a shame, she would not be pleased with me..."<br />
<br />
" Come on, Mum, Granny would not care...sorry, my Mum can't speak English," Saranda turned back to George, who was standing there not understanding a word.<br />
<br />
He took Victor on his strong arm, who stopped crying and look at him with big, scarred eyes: " It's all right." George smiled and Saranda was not sure if he talks to Victor or to her.<br />
<br />
" She worries all the time, my Mum," Saranda said in a matter of explanation.<br />
<br />
" Tell her to take it easy, she in Australia and you know what, " George's eyes suddenly twinkled:<br />
" Tell her to come over next weekend to my place, she needs to get out of this house..."<br />
<br />
" Thanks George, but Dad will come along as well, he will not let her to go by herself, you know ..." <br />
<br />
George waved his hand and laughed: " Fine, Saranda bring them all along..."<br />
<br />
While Saranda turned back to Mum and translated what George said the window opened above their heads and Dardon's voice broke through the chatter: " Saranda, Ilja taught me new Aussie words: ' Do you wanna play footy, mate?'.."<br />
<br />
Saranda laughed and everyone started to giggle, even Victor cheered up and started to pull George's nose. Only her Mum stood there confused and lost in her thoughts. Saranda knew she is back in her freezing and cold Kosovo at least in her head. <br />
<br />
Saranda shrugged her shoulders and put the juicy hot meat in her mouth. It tasted delicious. Then she grimaced at her brother: " Sure, mate."Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-747137689240074122010-05-13T06:16:00.000-07:002010-05-19T20:33:18.181-07:00I ONLY WANTED TO SEE THE CITY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/S-v9TyLZG7I/AAAAAAAAAPI/gn9XwHKnMFw/s1600/PA260089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/S-v9TyLZG7I/AAAAAAAAAPI/gn9XwHKnMFw/s320/PA260089.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
Mrs Hysa jumpped from her white Holden and hugged her tightly: " Sweetheart, we have been thinking<br />
about calling the police."<br />
<br />
Saranda smiled at her apologetically: " I only wanted to see the city, I mean Perth, we haven't ben there yet."<br />
<br />
They made their way to the house without meeting anyone. All was still and hushed when she dared to go inside after Mrs Hysa opened the front door.<br />
<br />
" Where have you been?" Mum looked up and continued to change Victor: " Your Dad is very upset and look at your dirty clothes!"<br />
<br />
Joyce was standing next to her holding a baby bottle: " Is it warm enough?"<br />
<br />
Mum looked at her blankly and then pointed at the bottle: " Try to say it in Albanian, it is your native language."<br />
<br />
" You say, bottle, bottle," Joyce shouted in her ear and handed the bottle to Victor, who stretched his arms to catch it and missed. The milk spilled all around him.<br />
<br />
Mum quickly caught the bottle and pretended to be cross: " Look what you have done you little princess. "<br />
Joyce sat in her lap and Mum showed her how to hold the bottle so Victor could drink.<br />
<br />
<br />
Saranda watched them and remembered the time when she was so close to Mum. What had happened to them? Mrs Hysa disturbed her thoughts as she ushered her to Study room: " Go to see your dad, he is helping Dardon with his homework."<br />
<br />
Dad didn't say anything, when she entered, but she could tell he head been worried. There was an open telephone book on the table next to a pile of Islamic books. He had returned to Islam after Granny died and he kept studying it all the time.<br />
<br />
" You just disappeared," her brother sniffed once or twice like a child looking up from his maths sheet.<br />
<br />
" Saranda!" She saw the sudden fear in Dad's eyes. " It's time for you to grow up as a proper Islamic girl, "<br />
he paused looking at her closely: " We will talk about it tomorrow, you have already missed our dinner time, so now come and help Dardon with his homework, I will call you for pray when the time comes."<br />
<br />
When Dad left, Saranda stretched and opened her mouth in a great wide yawn. Dardon disappeared too and soon was back with some biscuits from the kitchen. She took some and pulled a face at her brother: " It's so good to be with you, little goody, goody..."<br />
<br />
" Of course, it is." Dardon grinned so sure of himself that she burst out laughing, then he asked her quietly:<br />
" Have you really been in the city?"<br />
<br />
" Yep, in Northbridge, it's an really exiting place....but kids, you know, we don't have a whole lot in common, but, well, you sort of know them...."<br />
<br />
" Oh, I want to go to TIme Zone in Fremantle, could you take me?"<br />
<br />
" Sure, but now check this mistake...I'm so tired."<br />
<br />
But that night she couldn't sleep for thinking about Kathy, Jack and her own life. She couldn't walk out and leave her Brother, Mother and also her Father, like they had done. She touched her tiny golden sunflower and fell asleep.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4828621153571955771.post-89198823356523230552010-04-29T06:02:00.000-07:002010-04-29T06:10:19.559-07:00SARANDA MEETS JACK<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/S9mFIl3lSrI/AAAAAAAAAN4/tX-n7GK0vQI/s1600/PA270141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XMDG_cnPjuc/S9mFIl3lSrI/AAAAAAAAAN4/tX-n7GK0vQI/s320/PA270141.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The sun went down, the stars came out. She touched her tiny golden sun. Which one is her Grandmother's star? Her heart thumped from the effort of running so long and her legs ached too. There was one more street to pass. Further along stood the newly built house of their Australian friends.<br />
<br />
A car suddenly stopped along her and a kind woman's face appeared in the window: " You are the girl living in Mrs Hysa's place, would you like a lift?"<br />
<br />
Saranda suddenly realized just how much she wanted her mum to learn to drive, to learn English and that she didn't want to go back to Mrs Hysa's place...not now. After a short persuasion the kind neighbour took her to the train station and she was free to go. Where?<br />
<br />
Saranda waited until the car drove off. The noisy dark station surrounded her. It was a wonderful feeling to be treated with respect. Saranda hesitated for a while and then got in the train. She sat next to a window. The coloured lights outside were vivid, fresh, as if the paint had just dried. Oh, if she could just remember which part of Perth was the most exciting...the popular girls from school had always boasted about having being there.<br />
Suddenly she noticed a man in blue uniform checking some tickets. In panic she jumped out in the last minute before the door slammed behind her. She looked around. The city was much bigger and noisier than their quiet suburb. Beep! Beep! The big headlights illuminated her figure and she jumped frightened back on the path.<br />
<br />
The loud music from open bars and cafeterias mixed with laughter and talk of hundreds of people. Happy people. Saranda felt lost in this alien crowd parying carelessly around her.<br />
Passing by she noticed a loud group of teenagers about her age drinking and hanging around one of the small street. The picture reminded her those awful girls from her school and she quickly turned back.<br />
<br />
" Hey love, try this stuff, it's good but expensive..." One of the boys jumped in front of her with a small parcel in his hand.<br />
<br />
Saranda ran off. She ran and ran. Finally she reached a small dark road and sat down on a path, totally exhausted.<br />
<br />
" Hey, he kicked you out too...no money, no honey..." Someone whispered behind her.<br />
<br />
Saranda was almost too tired to talk in English but managed to turn around and see a dark girl: "What is the name of this place?"<br />
<br />
" What you meaaan?" The big smile with snow white teeth lits up her black face: " You hear this, Jack?" The girl chuckled: " She is so doped, she doesn't even know where she is?"<br />
<br />
" Northbridge," Jack loomed up tall and solid against the night sky-line: " The only place in this damn backwater where you can hang around with your friends."<br />
<br />
Saranda sat still, not moving even an eylid as she starred into the the bright blue eyes of a boy about fifteen years old. <br />
<br />
" And this is Kathy, the Abo, the wicked girl from the edge of city." He pointed at the dark tiny girl.<br />
<br />
" Welcome to my home." Kathy laughed as her dusty coloured hair danced on her head.<br />
<br />
" Home?" Saranda looked around at the mess lying everywhere on the piece of no-man land behind her.<br />
She picked up the old screwed can and ...a needle?<br />
<br />
" Got yah, " Kathy laughed triumphantly dancing around the shiny sign with 'Vacant Land' written on it:<br />
" It's our hide-out for a while."<br />
<br />
" You hide, from what?" Saranda asked confused if she understood properly this pidgeon English.<br />
<br />
" This whole crappy world full of grown ups trying to put things over ya," Jack sat next to Saranda offering her his can of beer: " So the only thing to do is run away and enjoy life with your mates."<br />
<br />
" This stuff has really made me tired..." Saranda watched as Kathy's face suddenly relaxed in a heavy sleep.<br />
<br />
" What's happened to her?" Saranda looked back at Jack.<br />
<br />
" What do you think?" He had a peculiar look on his face: " What are you hanging round here for?" Jack looked annoyed and upset.<br />
<br />
" Me?" Saranda paused, " I just want to go ...home!"<br />
<br />
" You reckon?" His eyes were full of sadness. " Your folks probably wouldn't even notice you'd gone...."<br />
Jack just sat, shoulders hunched not knowing what to do. " Gosh, I feel so crook," he stood up and dropped a couple of coins.<br />
<br />
" Could I borrow some?" saranda picked them up: " your know for a train ticket to get back."<br />
<br />
" Whaaat?" He looked down at her: " Yeep, here you have some more, " Jack pulled out some dirty notes and let them to drop around him. " Go to find your sweet home."<br />
<br />
" No, that's enough," Saranda stood up holding the coins in her hands: " I will return them, soon, I promise."<br />
<br />
" Just piss off, will you?"<br />
<br />
" Bye-ee, " Saranda said, but she continued to stand there, gazing at him trying to understand what he said.<br />
<br />
" Nick off and leave us alone." Jack whispered savagely.<br />
<br />
Saranda looked at him sadly for a moment, then turned and walked off. A brisk, little wind scurried along the empty side street. Saranda had a feeling as if something was creeping up on her in the dark, while she hurried along. At last the train came to the empty Fremantle train station. There was only one thing she could do.<br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08181578484310326508noreply@blogger.com0