It was my turn, and my fate would soon be known. But the
interview was a quick one. It only lasted ten minutes. Was that good or bad? As
we roamed about, waiting for the news that would effectively determine our
destiny, I spotted a beautiful young girl in a clean white dress standing
quietly by herself. She backed away as I approached, but before long agreed to
a photo with me (Source C). Her voice was soft and quiet. She didn't smile. She
was a small seven year old. I asked if her parents were also in the with her. She
didn't answer immediately, but eventually built up the courage to quietly and
unemotionally utter "I don't know where her parents are." My throat
tied in a knot. When I looked down at her innocent little face and started to
ask another question, my words wouldn't come out.
Then, a monstrous shout raptured my eardrum. The government attorney
began listing name after name, in which I was hollered. Instructed to board the
4x4, our little jeep wound its way through outskirts of Darwin. Driving down the sandy road, I pondered and cursed the
distant political forces that brought me, the little girl, and the thousands of
other people to this place. A few minutes later we arrived at the small pier.
It was here where we were informed that our application of settlement in
Australia had been accepted and our journey down to Sydney would begin.
In a place like Australia where every person's prayer is to someday live, I
feel guilty that we, people who had faced the same adversities and hardships as
all the others, would be the only passengers on the only boat departing that
day. After formalities and handshakes with the government's attorneys the boat's
motor gushed to life and we slowly pulled away. Standing on the deck, I
strained to see anyone. They were hidden behind the trees, just as their pain was hidden from worldview.
As the city disappeared into the horizon, my long wave went unseen. Finally,
as it slipped from view, I contemplated the lives of the thousands of people
who didn't know whether Darwin would be their first stop on the road
to freedom, or their last.
- Helen Huynh
No comments:
Post a Comment