OUR WAR IS OVER. /March 1999 - June 1999/

     Saranda felt awful. She lowered herself into the beanbag in the empty communal room and absent-mindedly watched 'Neighbours'. She always came here at this time when other kids were engaged in sports and craft activities. She couldn't concentrate on anything except her English classes. She really didn't like studying English but Dad was strict and checked all her progress.

She needed time to think alone.

    One year had past and they were still waiting for something to happen. They had joined others to pray five times a day on Mum's request and she and dardon entered their first fast in the month of ramadan in December 1999 of thier own free will, so they could be together with those who were hungry at home.

She supposed she was happy because she had another brother, who was now four months old.

Mum had cheered up and their room was now full of refugee women fussing around the baby. Dad celebrated that he had an Australian son who he had named Victor in the hope that one day soon there would be a victory in Kosovo and Kosovo will win it's independence.

He studied every day to improve his English and spent the rest of his time discussing with the other refugee men the situation in Kosovo.

In spite of her few lucky escapes from the barracks to visit her Mum and Victor at the hospital in Fremantle, there were only a few occasions where they had been allowed to go out. Last week some of the refugee's women got the permission to go shopping. Saranda persuade Lisa to take her with them.

What a trip that had been!  It was like taking a fresh breath after being in a dark room.

She repated to herself the sentences from her English schoolbook: " For most West Australians, Fremantle is a city to which they can share and relate. Its multicultural population, vivid history and colourful architecture has made it a tourist heaven," while she followed Lisa through the bustling streets. There were never ending questions on her return from the kids and Dardon, who had not been so lucky to go out: " Were you really outside and did you go to Time Zone it must be really weird there ? Could you take me next time, could you?
She smiled at the thought of that and looked back at the TV screen.

Dardon came in and disturbed her thinking like always. He looked sweaty and stank a little.
    " Whew!" He said. "It's still hot." Then he added: " We have won 3:6, that is one advantage of this place, that is always enough boys to play Soccer with."

     " So, why don't you play and leave me alone." She hissed from her spot.

    " If you are so grumpy, I won't tell you about the letters Mum got from home..."

    " Which letters ?" Saranda jumped from her seat but her brother was gone. The door shut behind him with a big bang and she was alone. Again.

THINGS WILL SORT THEMSELVES OUT.

Lisa gave her an impulsive hug, which embarrassed her a little bit. "Don't worry, it's only temporary. Things will sort themselves out."

On the way back to the main buildings she found Dad talking on the verandah with the other men. He pointed her not to disturb them. Saranda entered the long quiet corridor and went upstairs. Her eyes became acustomed to the dark and she found their door. Mum was staring at the ceiling holding a handkerchief in front of ther mouth. Saranda knelt next to her and touched her bandaged arm.

    "Are you sick?"

Mum stared at her but didn't answer. She puts the handkerchief back to her pocket and started slowly to fold some of the 'Salvation army' clothes, which had been given to them.

Saranda stood up and gazed through the window. The horizon was shimmering in the hot air but inside was fresh and cool.

    "Look, Mum, you can see the ocean from here."

Mum stood sadly next to Saranda and pressed her palms against the glass with pointless longing. They watched tiny seagulls flying in the clear, blue sky, their wings touching the green line where see and sky met. Saranda had a feeling that this is how their ancient homeland looked like when 'Light man' had put the first sun on the sky.

    " Hey, next week, they allow us to go out and see the ocean, the real ocean, maybe I'll spont a dolphin or a real shark." Dardon burst with excitement.

    "Nonsense." Thought Saranda, who rarely believed the news he told.

BLINKING IN THE SUN FEELING HOMESICK

Saranda blinked in the sun. Where am I? She tried to get the world into focus. The magpies carolled in the tall eucalyptus trees scattered along the barracks' garden. A group of refugee's boys looked almost happy, sitting under one of them, having lunch and chattering. It would be good for Dardon to join them...
     " You're new, are you?" A girl with a ponytail came to sit next to her on the bench. " We have already been here for a week."

     " Where do you come from? From Pristina?" Saranda smiled at her. " My aunties live in Pristina or they used to live there...and you have the same accent."

    "Hm." After a little pause the new girl added: "Forget the past, here is fine, you will see. Did you hear that school starts tomorrow, my English is not that great, I don't know how I will do..."

    I don't know how I will eat." Saranda looked down at the salad and tuna sandwich in her hand and added slowly: " This bread is too soft and it's too hot for lunch."

    " And ist's the start of autumn here they told us, imagine, it's spring at home." Suddenly the girl with the pnytail stopped as she noticed a plump figure coming towards them. " Look, Lisa is coming," she jumped for joy and her ponytail danced on her head. " I love these frozen frit sticks she always bring us, what they are called here?"

    " Icy poles, " Lisa approached them. " Whould you like some?" She wiped perspiration off her brows:
" My goodness, the heat has come late this year."

    "You're welcome, oh, Saranda is here." Lisa's cheerful face with freckles turned to her. " Your brother is flooking for yo everywhere...and your Mum, she seems to be sick and a bit upset, I've tried to cheer her up...but you know, I can't speak your language very well."

Saranda watched her and felt uncomfortable. " Oh, I know, she will be all right, she is only...she scratched her forehead trying to find the right expression: "homesick."

ARE WE REAL MUSLIMS, MUM ?

" It is locked, honey." Someone gently touched her arm. "You've come a long way, you are safe now." Saranda looked up at the kind woman's face. She was one of the barracks staff who served them in the dinning room. The round woman stared at her until Saranda could stand it no longer and looked away. How could she possibly understand...how could she explain about Granny and everything?

" Oh sorry, you can't speak English." She sighed slowly trying Albanian greeting: " Mer-ha-ba, er oh sorry, I mean...emri im asht Lisa, Li-sa." Lisa pointed her finger to the samll card on her huge chest with hen name on it.

Saranda chuckled and Lisa wiped perspiration off her brows" " Mare-harbor, emree-
imarsht Saranda and don't worry I speak English."

" Oh, nice to meet you, Saranda," She put her arm around her: "How old are you?"

" I am twelve and my brother is ten."

Lisa sighed and went back to the barracks, halfway there she stopped to make sure Saranda is following her. " I wanted to explain to yhour that I am here for you and by the way, your hair are really beautiful, so long and thick, you are lucky you don't need to wear shawl like some of the Muslims' girls I saw."

" My Grandmum wears a scarf and she can tell wondefull stories from our past."

" Can she?" Lisa waited until Saranda entered the barracks, then she locked the front door. " I would love to hear about your family, we could sit here, if you like." She pointed on some chairs in the hall.

" No, thank you...I mean, I'd like to go bakc to my family."

Saranda made her way to their rooms without anyone meeting. All was still and hushed on the corridor like in prayer time. She entered her parents' room. Her Mum was standing next to one of the empty shelves.

" Where is Dad ?" Saranda asked.

" Where have you been?" Mum looked white and tired. " He went to talk to other men. You know, he does not like you to go off without telling us.

" Mum, I have been only outside to get some fresh air." Saranda touched the empty self. " Are we real muslims, mum?"

" To be Muslim means to be God consious, whether inprayer, fasting or charity. That is what my Mother-in-law has taught me and I teach you. All of your Father's family are Muslims by tradition. I was orphan form Coratia. But as you know, because your father was a teacher he was forbidden to practise his religion."

" We never talked about Islam at school."

" All religion were forbidden at home, although people followed Islamic traditions at home and we all lived peasefully together," she sighed: " I don't know what happened to us."

" We never prayed at home too much either."

" Islam is both a religion and a complete way of life. Your father had chosen to teach so I respected his wish. He always preferred to take his own responsibility for his life, don't rely on God too much, he always used to say for that he was often called Non-believer by your Grandmum."

" But why has he been working as a farmer now?" Saranda interrupted.

" The Serbs took over and destroyed everything, your father was not good any more as a communist teacher from previous regime and later he was not good as a Kosovo Albanian." Mum sighed heavily again. " It is God's will to turn his back on us as we have turned our back on him."

" No, it is not." Said Dad entering the room. " There is nevws from home about ethnic cleansing not only of Albanians but also Croats, Gypsies, Turks, Montenegrins. Where are their God?"

" Go to sleep, Saranda," Mum ushered her into the adjoining room and closed quietly door while Dad was taling about the government violence against Albanian civilians.

Saranda stood quietly between her and Dardon's beds looking at some empty shelves and thinking of Grandmum. Dardon was sleeping soundly. She gently touched his head.

" I've tried to find you but you just disappeard." He snifed once or twice like a little child and truned back to sleep.

Saranda moved the makeshift curtain her Mum put there to divide her private space and stretched her body in the comfortable hend hugging her welcome teddy bear. " Good night, Grandmum, wherever you are!"

PART 1 THE SUNNY COUNTRY April 1998

Finally their family and four hundred other refugees began their interim new life in Australia.Saranda closed her eyes when hot shower touched her skin. She had dreamt about this moment the whole month. A look in a mirror frightened her: what a pale face with big scarred eyes, her long brown hair had lost its shine...only her tiny golden sun shone like a star on her bare skin.

"Come on, Saranda, you are next." Mum openend the door dressed in a new dress with a pure white bandage on her left arm.

"And what about you?" Saranda dressed quickly into clean pants and loose shirt:
"Are you O.K. ?" She asked concerned.

" Im O.K. as you say in English, I am ingood health. A lady who translated for me sent you this to make you feel more welcome." Mum handed her a small teddy bear as she pushed Saranda through the white door with the sign in their language: Medical Check-ups.

Saranda was holding her teddy bear tightly as they approached the barbed wire fence of thier temporary home. The night was peaceful and warm. She looked up to the sky but none of the stars looked familiar. Someone from the back pushed her to move.

" Aar-my Bar-racks." Her brother was standing near the big entrance. "You see, I can read in English."

" Can you read the first word?" Mum approached him: "I think, it's the name of this town, I have no idea, where we are."

" It's called Fremantle, Mum." Saranda followed them inside.

The following night passed quickly. After checking their family unit, Dardon ran through the long corridor with the same family units on both sides. Saranda followed him thinking about this strange country.

" I thought we would have a real army room." Dardon peered in to a room, which was similar to theirs. Kosovar families, which were more fortunate than them were unpacking their luggage. They made piles of spare clothing to share with others.

" I love our room with its bright blinds and comfy beds," Saranda said following the noise from the end of the corridor.

They entered the communal lounge with TV and chairs. It was full ofyoung Albanians watching 'Simpsons'. The smell of cooked halal meat, which floated out from the opposite kitchen made them hungry.

"Come on, Mum and Dad are witing for us in the dining room." dardon ran out. The big room had already been prepared. Mum waved to them from one of the big tables laden with chicken and lamb dishes.

" Try the thick soup, it's similar to what we make at home." Dad was smiling, his mouth full as they approached.

" I love chicken." Dardon took up a knife and cut the first delicious piece. Soon warm meat was pushed into his mouth. Some drebbled down his chin as he grinned at his sister: " I bet I cna eat more than you."

"I bet you can't." she took some chicken form his plate. Saranda felt warm and secure for the first time in a long while. Having eaten their meals, small groups of refugees around their table stood up. Men went outside to smoke. Dad went to join them. Saranda looked at her Mum. The happy, satisfied smile on her face hid the horrors of the past, which were still very close to the surface. Saranda's stomach ached, not knowing what proper food had menat for so long. She pushed the plate back. Ignoring the tempting secure atmosphere, she went out. She passed some men on the open verandah. Fortunatelly her Dad was nowhere to be seen.
Following the path they came in she listened intently. All was still and quiet. Suddenly she touched something cold. Saradna tried to open the gate of her new home, wondering what was behind it.

MORE THAN A DECADE AGO AUSTRALIA OPENED ITS' DOOR TO MANY KOSOVAN REFUGESS WHO FLEED THEIR HOMELAND BECAUSE OF WAR AND DISTRESS. JUST AS YOU ARE READING IN SARANDA'S STORY. TODAY MANY DISPLACED AND SCARED TAMILS FROM SRI LANKA KNOCK ON OUR DOOR. WHEN THERE IS WAR AND DISTRESS THIS IS WHAT PROPELS PEOPLE. DOES AUSTRALIA OPEN IT'S DOOR AGAIN?

' Don't look back, go ahead...'

" We are going to Australia." Dad entered their tent early morning.

" What are you talking about?" Grandmum stood up with difficulty from the ground.

" Come on kids, we are going to fly to the sun." He had shaken them to wake up.

Saranda sat up shivering from the icy air coming in from th ethousands of hole in their plastic tent. She had already forgotten what the warm sunlight felt like.

" I'll stay. My life, my dear husband and your sisters are all still here.." Grandmum whispered.

" You will die here, Mum." Dad started to talk but she stopped him resolutely.

" You know that I'm too old to go, besides I have to wait here for your sisters
to come," She waas helping Dardon to put his damp jumper on. "But YOU have to go,
you are lucky to escape this misery."

When Dad hesitated, she pushed him out of the tent: " For the sake of your children,
go."

" Saranda, I have something for you," Grandmum took off her gold chain with a tiny golden sun and put it around Saranda's neck: " My Grandmamma gave it to me and
now it's yours, it brings you good luck on your journey."
She gently patted Saranda's long brown hair then quickly turned away to hide the tears in her eyes.

It was a cold frosty morning when they boarded the bus, still half asleep. Saranda
waved to her beloved Granny for as long as she could see her old figure, so fragile
until it finally disappeared in the crowd of thousands of cold, desperate refugees.

The same day they boarded a plane for the long flight to Australia. Saranda landed a seat near the window. As the jet soared up into the sky, she could see her beloved Kosovo, the piece of land, which they were forced to flee, their war-ravaged homeland. How small and wounded it looked. She had no desire to go back now, but...

" What about aunties, my cousins and my friends?" She quickly turned to the rest
of her family to see the same question in their eyes. " And our Grandmum, will we see her again?"

" We were lucky to escape the camp." Dad sat next to her, his eyes full of pain.

" Look, that muyst be our village." Mum sobbed.

Suddenly, a flight attendant touched Mum's injured arm, gently telling her something in English.

" What does she mean?" Mum turned to them from the front seat. Dardon scratched his head trying to remember the English phrases form school.

" Don't look back, go ahead, we are on the flight to sun." Saranda said triumphantly. " That is, what it is!"

I'M EVER-CHANGING YET THE SAME

MY DEAR SOULMATES; I HOPE YOU LIKE MY NEW 'APPEARANCE'. I TOOK TO MY HEART ALL YOUR SUGGESTIONS AND TRIED TO MAKE MY 'BITTERSWEET' BLOG MORE ORGANIZED FOR YOUR CONVIENCENCE. I BELIEVE THAT CONTENT IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN 'IT'S WRAPPING, HOWEVER WE LIVE IN A FAST-PACED SOCIETY WHERE TIME IS THE MOST PRECIOUS THING AND I AM SO GREATEFUL FOR ANY SPARE TIME YOU FIND FOR ME AND MY THOUGHTS. THERE WILL BE STILL 'MY THINKING FROG QUESTION TIME' AS I NEED SO MUCH YOUR INPUT. THANK YOU TO ALL MY SOULMATES WHO 'CONNECTED WITH ME AND MY THOUGHTS SO FAR...'

What am I?
I'm ever-changing yet the same. There was a darkness from where I came. I have 'rainy' and 'clear' days. I look for a sunshine, just hold my hand and walk with me on this great land. Enjoy this sunshine, for where we go there will be a darkness, just the same. I'm ever-changing yet the the same. I want to stay as long as I can, with you, on this great land.


Who is Saranda?

Saranda's journey is about to continue. Please read carefully, there will be 'My Thinking Frog' questions for you to answer next week. ENJOY...


"I warned you about my land yesterday, you damn refugees." The angry farmer from the other side of the border shouted as they approached. "No more moving through my land." More Macedonian farmers came on their tractors to show them off.
Their huge dogs came snuffing up for a fight. They speeded up to the camp trying to avoid them. Saranda looked the other way at the muddy remote field. There were thousand of plastic shelters and tents made from sheets. Shortly after arriving Dad joined other refugeees to hastily dig latrines while Mum had already linde up for food handed off the back of a relief agency truck standing nearby. Saranda and Dardon stood in the middle of the bustling camp for a moment wondering where to go, when Grandmum's scarf appeared from one of the tents.

"Welcome to a home in the mud." She greeted them with her usual cheery smile, but there were tears in her eyes. Saranda and Dardon hugged her tightly as they jumped into the first shelter they'd had since being expelled at gunpoint from their home. The big tent was full of desperate people sitting everywhere. In the dark corner a young woman was sreaming: " He has a fever, what will I do?" As Saranda's eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she noticed a tiny baby on the woman's lap. The look in her eyes was mad with fear. All women in the tent were around her. Men on other side of the tent paid no attention, lost in their separate gloomy lives.

"Come to this corner and I will try to help this poor sick baba, an aid worker is coming...come on, my children." Grandmum pushed them to the small ampty place on the women's side with an old rug on the floor.

When Saranda opened her eyes next morning, she could hardly breathe in the heavy air and her fingers stayed frozen when she wanted to pull up the charity blanket. Some of the refugees were packing up. The aid worker who came to help with Mum's injury told them to pack up too, but their Granmum refused.

"Go, where?" She murmured as she kneaded heavy bread.

" This is a dangerous place, a terrible place to live..." Mum started to complain touching her new bandage. A wild scream from the corner made her turn back. The aid worker rushed to take the sick baby from the young woman.

" If we move, we will have to beging again, " Grandmum nodded. " There is no safe place for us to go. I just want to go back home."

They all nodded, looking sadly at the young woman. Her baby was dead. There was no piece of white cloth to wrap it in. The aid worker quickly took the baby out to avoid spreading infections.

Their family stayed in the dirty muddy camp clinging to what little stability they had left. As the cold rain thumped on the tent, Dardon and Saranda listened to Grandmum's old story about the 'Light of Life' /look on the introduction page to this story if you want to read it by yourself/.

Saranda knows that somewhere beyond this gloomy horizon the sun would shine on them again.