tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93109942024-03-07T21:13:04.783-08:00Zeynep's (mis)Adventures in Ruritaniaarise, oh people, let us hear your voices... your voices of freedom.Zeynep Zaikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15683551941103873925noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1104902960221602562005-02-28T03:21:00.000-08:002005-01-22T19:57:19.416-08:00rise up, zahariaAccording to a website that I just read (to confirm the word of mouth), an informal cease fire has been initiated by the UN. If this works, it could bring about an end to the Brn-Zaharian conflict.
<br />
<br />This is amazing to me because it means that, should this work, it could bring about an end to the war and the violence, but also, my family and I (along with thousands of other refugees) could return home. Home to Duchovnyville... to Zaharia!
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<br />Now, of course this cease fire states nothing about territorial divisions, but it's my hope that if the UN sees this conflict out to the end (*crosses fingers*), then a future, free, and independent state of Zaharia could actually be born.
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<br />Wow. Maybe soon we'll be able to leave this awful country. (And all its damned cabbage.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1105134292046211382005-02-19T01:02:00.000-08:002005-01-07T22:01:29.356-08:00end themeIt was only a matter of time before they let this happen to us...
<br />
<br />From CNN's Caitlin Avalon
<br />Friday, February 18th, Posted: 1938 GMT
<br />
<br /><b>ZAHRVILLE, Brynania (CNN) -- Amidst a continuing civil war in Brynania, aid workers and refugees report signs of growing food shortages in the southern parts of the country.</b>
<br />
<br />In the rebel-held city of Zahrville, one family approached me. They said that their dinner last night consisted of oatmeal that they ended up eating off the floor as the pot they were cooking it in fell to the ground. They were searching for more to eat. When I asked them why they didn't relocate to a refugee camp where food was more attainable, the father explained to me that the house they live in was built by his grandfather's own hands. He grew up in it and has never wanted to leave. He stays, he said, "to make sure nothing happens to the house." So far, they've been lucky.
<br />
<br />I talked with many others, who were also hungry. They were also angry that while the international community provides aid to Zaharian refugees who have fled to neighbouring Ruritania and Icasia, so little is done to relieve the suffering of the population that remains in their homeland. Zaharian rebel spokepersons accuse the Brynanian authorities of using food as a weapon, and restricting relief supplies to the region. Government officials deny this, pointing instead to the rebel siege of the southern port of Mcgilldishu as the main cause of any shortages. Some chose not to leave their capital city, and others couldn't leave as they have wounded or missing family members they hope will one day return back home. In Brynania, no one is completely immune to their ethnic conflict with the Zaharians. However, for those in Zaharia, the struggles and horrors of the ongoing violence take a much harsher toll on everyday life.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1105074333444741882005-02-10T03:21:00.000-08:002005-01-22T19:58:09.640-08:00time for heroesI finally approached Mr. Fitzgerald about the letters I found months ago. I told him my conclusions (weapons smuggling) and before he could feed my curiosity, I apologized for the snooping without permission.
<br />
<br />First, he congratulated me. For finding the letters and for figuring them out. So, I had guessed correctly. Secondly, he told me why he became involved in the whole operation. Years and years ago, he was married to a wonderful woman named Zandra. She helped him out with his shipping business - mainly finances and such. During this time, the Brn and Zaharians had tension between them, but nothing near what it is right now. So, one night, she begins her walk home (they lived close by) and she never makes it to the door. The next morning, Mr. Fitzgerald filed a police report, but nothing was done until her body washed on shore a few days later. From the autopsy, they concluded that she was raped and murdered. The main suspect was the teenage son of Mr. Fitzgerald's only rival company in the business (they were also Brn). He had no alibi and some of Zandra's blood was found upon one of the rival's ships - some pretty solid evidence. However, because of a loop-hole in the judicial system, the son was never charged and he still works in Duchovnyville today.
<br />
<br />It was from this point on that Mr. Fitzgerald vowed to get his revenge on the Brn for the murder of his wife. But instead of doing something obvious, like injuring the son or other members of his family, Mr. Fitzgerald waited for the right opportunity to strike. And so came to be his weapons smuggling for the PFLZ and ZPF. This way, he could fight against the Brn, but not just a few of them, quite a few of them at one time.
<br />
<br />So then I asked Mr. Fitzgerald why he left Zaharia. I thought it had something to do with someone discovering the weapons, but it's actually more simple than that. His company started to soar above his competition, and shortly after this upward trend began, he started to receive threats. One night, while he was up late working, someone came up from behind him and pulled a knife on his throat. He knew immediately that it was the son, because he stated, "If you don't want to end up dead like your wife, then I suggest you leave this town at once." Tired of all the bullshit, Mr. Fitzgerald complied and left. Little did this murdering son know, Mr. Fitzgerald would not be giving up... his weapons were still a great contribution to the rebels.
<br />
<br />Mr. Fitzgerald ended our conversation by stating the following: "I no longer care if the Brn or the Ruritarians discover what I have done. Just please do not speak of this to anyone for your own safety."Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1106442716805482822005-02-05T03:34:00.000-08:002005-01-22T19:59:14.890-08:00blinding lightsI've been having trouble sleeping lately. I think the fact that next month marks a whole year away from home is keeping my mind from relaxing.
<br />
<br />Last night I woke up around 2 AM. Not sure why, possibly a bad dream, but I decided to get up for a while. I walked downstairs to find Lorenzo standing in the kitchen, drinking some water. He looked like he had just come inside.
<br />
<br />"Did you sneak out to the camp tonight?" I asked.
<br />
<br />"I don't think that's any of your business, Zeynep," he responded.
<br />
<br />"We're both adults here, Lorenzo. I'm not going to report your behaviour to your father, don't worry."
<br />
<br />"You have grown up, then, huh?" he said with a tone in his voice that brought back childhood memories to us both. "Um... listen... sorry about snapping at you just now, I've just been on edge."
<br />
<br />"No problem," I said, grabbing myself a glass of water as well.
<br />
<br />"Do you wanna smoke?" he asked, pulling a few cigarettes out of his pocket.
<br />
<br />"Oh, no thanks, I don't smoke."
<br />
<br />"Do you want to keep me company while I do?"
<br />
<br />"Sure."
<br />
<br />I grabbed the first coat I could find and we went outside, sitting down on the little porch that greets our front door. Lorenzo lit his cigarette and asked me how I've been for the past 4 or 5 years. Usually a question like that is hard to answer in a sentence or two, but last night, it was easy: "Basically, I finished high school, started uni, and then moved here." I asked him the same question back.
<br />
<br />"Well, I finished high school as well, but I somehow got my mom and dad to agree to let me take a year off and work."
<br />
<br />"Didn't you want to go to uni?" I asked.
<br />
<br />"I didn't know what I wanted to study, so I thought instead of taking a bunch of classes to see what I find interesting, I may as well just make some money. Maybe move out of the house," he drew in some smoke. "So, I got a job at a restaurant... as a bus boy," he exhaled it. "I was planning on working my way up the ladder... become a waiter, possible manager."
<br />
<br />"What happened?"
<br />
<br />"I made friends with one of the cooks. He was young, like me, and he was full of ambition... he hated the Brn with a passion. When I first got to know him, I wasn't up to date with everything that was going on between our people and the Brn. But, Zed, he knew everything. And he educated me, and every day I grew more and more angry with the Brn and their politics of oppression. Zed was the main breadwinner in his family since his dad was detained years earlier, and he was working to support his mom and siblings. So, after saving up, he told me one day that he was ready to go join the ZPF, and that's when I realized this was a great opportunity for myself."
<br />
<br />"How did you find them?"
<br />
<br />"Zed knew people who helped us officially join the organization."
<br />
<br />And then from here, he told me about many of his experiences out in the field, plotting against the Brn, praying for Zaharian freedom, training for "battle". He worked his way through our conversation in a surprisingly strong chronological fashion, smoking another cigarette or two. And then, he told me the story of how he came home.
<br />
<br />"One night, Zed, a few others, and myself planned to go to Hamraville and free his father and the countless other Zaharians from detention. We took a less travelled road to try and make our way to the capital... I had never been before. We had bombs and guns, and I was in the back of the van we were using, trying to get everything in order. Our driver announced that we were ten kilometers from the city limits, and that's when shit went down."
<br />
<br />"What happened?"
<br />
<br />"I heard a siren of a Brn cop vehicle, and then a few warning shots fired into the air. I ducked down as the driver slammed on the brakes, and then he and another guy grabbed some guns and went out to start shooting at the Brn. Just before they stepped out of the van, they yelled at the rest of us to grab some ammo and then run for it. Zed and I left, shooting in the police's general direction, running away, while we each took a bullet. As we kept running, we heard the gun fire start to slow downed. Zed wanted to slow down, as he was shot in the thigh and it was hurting him. I told him we had to keep going so that we could hide somewhere. And that's when Zed fell to the ground after he was shot for a second time, this time in the back. I think it went right to his heart because he was dead instantly. I removed his personal items so that the Brn couldn't find them, and then I kept running."
<br />
<br />Where were you shot?"
<br />
<br />"In my left shoulder. It didn't slow me down too much, though it ached incredibly. I passed out in some forest-like area, and I woke up several hours later. I had lost quite a bit of blood by this point, so I was feeling weak. I ripped a part of my shirt off and tied it around my wound as best as I could. I ended up walking along the St. Catherine River to figure out my way back to Zaharia. Once I had reached the outskirts of Zaharia, I ended up hitchhiking my way back to the city."
<br />
<br />"Were you nervous when the gun fire started?"
<br />
<br />"I was nervous even before we were Brn ambushed. This was the most dangerous mission the ZPF was trying to undertake, ever. We were hopeful we would succeed, but I think we started our journey each expecting to die. We just wanted to get more attention to our struggle, no matter how our mission was going to end, you know? But then once things got complicated, I realized that I should try my hardest to live, so that I could rejoin the ZPF. But, for the moment, I knew I needed to go back home."
<br />
<br />"Whoa. That is quite the a story," I said in disbelieve. My own cousin was willing to die for the Zaharian cause. I was having trouble thinking of something more to say in response to Lorenzo's opening up to me... I was so stunned with his entire no emotion showing display that no thoughts were coming to mind. "I'm glad you're still alive."
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<br />"Me too," he said, smiling slightly.
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<br />"Are you going to rejoin the ZPF?" I asked bravely.
<br />
<br />"Not for a long time. I'm still a member, and I'm still as pissed off as I was from my first day in the organization... but I can't just run off from my family again."
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<br />"Yeah, I think it's better if you stay, as well," I responded. "Well, I need to get back to bed."
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<br />"I need to go to bed," he said, laughing a bit. I was happy to see that he was showing some more signs of life.
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<br />He finished his last cigarette, and then we both stood up to go back inside. He went to open the door, and then paused. "Everything I told you tonight, my family doesn't even know all those details..."
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<br />"Gotcha," I said smiling. "Your ZPF life is safe with me."
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<br />"Good. Oh, and I did go to the camp tonight. But only to get some smokes... I don't want to be involved with the ZPF at all for the next little while. I'm waiting to see how this conflict plays out." He then opened the door and we went inside. I went to up to my room, and fell asleep instantly upon my head making contact with my pillow.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1105071615322417552005-02-02T07:49:00.000-08:002005-01-22T19:59:42.970-08:00the sunI couldn't sleep last night.
<br />
<br />Instead I stayed awake, staring at a cold, dark ceiling, pondering years past, evaluating our current situation.
<br />
<br />I remembered the milestones of being a child. Losing my first tooth, starting high school, learning how to drive, getting my first job. I was starting to become my own person. Even though I was still living at home, I was in college. I would have been moving out on my own shortly... possibly just after graduation. I had plans. I had a ton of them.
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<br />But then all my hopes and dreams get put on hold.
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<br />A part of me clings very tightly to my Zaharian roots. I love being Zaharian, I want my people to be free of the Brn, and flourish independently. I love the stories our elders tell us. I love our culture, our traditions, the things that set us apart. I wouldn't trade it for the world. However, being Zaharian in my times also means growing up with hesitation toward the Brn. They hate us, we hate them. There's nothing more simple or more complicated than that.
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<br />And then there's another part of my thoughts that emerged for the first time last night. Suddenly, I realized how ridiculous this whole situation is. You know, killing, war, guns, hatred and the lot. Of course I'll never admit this to my family, but it made me think that, perhaps if others came to this conclusion (and not just Zaharians, but Brn, etc.) then maybe it will help things resolve more quickly. Finally, I fell asleep.
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<br />I woke up in a surprisingly happy mood... the first time in months.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1106072099731648362005-01-26T04:11:00.000-08:002005-01-22T20:01:07.046-08:00tornadoWe are all still pretty upset with the Ruri's firing my dad and my Uncle Uzi. I believe my parents put some extra money away somewhere that we can use if we need to, and we still get rations from the camp, but things aren't so good in the rest of Zaharia, unfortunately.
<br />
<br />Having the new family members here has actually been a cramped blessing. Although it's harder to find a spot to relax alone in the house, the chores have been divided up even more, so it's easier to get things done. My sister and I have also been on a path to reconciliation with each other, and she's been helping our cousin Zizi adjust to living away from Zaharia. The two are practically the same age, which is also very helpful.
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<br />My mom's been pulling out of her depression now that her brother is living with us. She and Zola get along quite well, so they chat, knit, and cook together. And since Ezra and Nia hang out all the time, that leaves Zeke and I to entertain Lorenzo and Zamir. Zamir's a bookworm, so I've taken him to the library a few times to check out books, read in a comfy chair, chat with the librarian. We all hadn't seen Lorenzo in a long time since when we lived in Zahrville with the family, he was already out running around with the ZPF. He's a fairly quiet boy now, with tattoos on his back of Zaharian green and red, a line of al-Zahra below it, and a "ZZ" on his left arm for his allegiance to Zah'cary Zed, founder of the ZPF.
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<br />A few nights ago at dinner, the topic of politics emerged, and suddenly Lorenzo got incredibly angry and ranted (practically yelling) about how much he hates the Brn and how much he wishes they'd all go to hell. His dad stepped in and said what we were all feeling, that yes, we don't like the Brn either, but we don't really have a choice to do anything about it these days...
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<br />"Look what happened last time you went to try and do something about it yourself! You ran away from home, just leaving us a note that you'd gone to join the ZPF, but nothing more. We had no idea where you were and you worried your mother sick. When you finally did come home, you were hours away from dying. We are all going to just sit this one out from now on. Don't even THINK about leaving us again!"
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<br />Lorenzo kept quiet after that. In fact, we all did. We finished our dinner in silence. It was incredible.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1105069465364055962005-01-20T04:27:00.000-08:002005-01-06T19:46:42.863-08:00when it fallsYou'd think that with things being as bad as they already are, things couldn't get much worse, right?
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<br />WRONG!
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<br />Both my dad and my Uncle Uzi (who had only worked for a week or so) lost their jobs in the past few days. The Ruri's cracked down on workers who don't have a permit to work in the country (so, most all Zaharian refugees) and now my family doesn't have a "large" source of income. My Uncle Zack was able to obtain a permit before we got here (somehow - he can't discuss it) and same goes for Mr. Fitzgerald (why does this not surprise me?). Ezra's still at the market. Either the Ruri's haven't found him yet, or they don't care to fire him as he makes barely anything (he's often paid in food, for example).
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<br />This whole mess better end soon... because soon we'll have nothing left.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1105135143099901472005-01-12T06:50:00.000-08:002005-01-07T13:59:03.100-08:00hoppity hop hopI ran into Ian at the market for the last time today. He explained to me that his girlfriend, Dana, had been transferred to Camp 6, so he successfully requested a transfer to the same camp for himself. It was his last week at Camp 5.
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<br />He gave that obligatory guy going away speech... you know, the "it's been nice to befriend you and I hope that your future is full of happiness" stuff. He did ask me if I wanted an Australian penpal, which I thought would be cool, so I gave him my current address. He said he'll write me from Camp 6 so that I can have his address there. He also gave me his address for back home in Melbourne, should my address change, I can always mail a letter there with the update and he'll get it (sooner or later).
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<br />I gave him a hug, wished him the best, and left. Short and simple.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1105068103787872172005-01-08T01:31:00.000-08:002005-01-18T07:53:50.276-08:00wasting time awayI dreamt last night that I was standing in front of my home in Duchovnyville. I heard the sound of a large gust of wind coming, so I turned around to locate its position. It rippled slowly toward my house, and as it made contact with the side of the structure, it caused the entire thing to crumble.
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<br />I ducked down, trying to keep any debris from impacting my head. Once the wind ceased, I walked toward the rubble. I tried sorting through the structural parts, like bricks, wires, pipes, bars, but it was very difficult. I finally found a photograph and cleaned the dirt from it... only to find that it wasn't even a photo of my family. It was another family's. One that I didn't know.
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<br />I turned around and saw a ghost-like image of myself, only 15 years younger. I approached this girl and I asked her what happened to the house.
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<br />"It ran out of love," she answered.
<br />"What does that mean?" I questioned.
<br />"You stopped caring."
<br />"That's impossible... I care about my family every day."
<br />"But you stopped caring about yourself."
<br />"How did I do that?" I asked the girl.
<br />"You let me die," she bluntly said, while looking me straight in the eye. There was no emotion in her face.
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<br />That's when I woke up... in a cold sweat.
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<br />What the hell was that all about? Things just keep deteriorating around here... and I think I have let myself go. I have a difficult time caring about the things that I used to. And my family members are continually on edge. We have no idea what will happen next. Our stress levels could power a small country.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1104979927477255622004-12-31T03:43:00.000-08:002005-01-05T18:55:08.706-08:00spiesSo, the family arrived, tired but relieved, a few days ago. My Uncle Uzi went to register him and his family at the camp and then picked up their food rations. The given food is definitely lower and lower every time we get our supplies.
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<br />It's ironic because it was my family, almost 10 months ago, that moved in with their family. And now it's them moving in with us. It's the least we can do though, really.
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<br />Although it's made the living situation more cramped, I've enjoyed having some new people to chat with. It's taken the stress off my mom and I, and it's helped to cheer me up. Lorenzo has changed a bit, though, which is understandable given what he went through in the past. My aunt and uncle don't want him going to the camp very often as they fear that he might join up with the guerrillas again. Their presence is strong within the camps and the Ruritarian government can't do anything about it (although we all know they'd love to crush them).Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1106067901767741742004-12-22T00:40:00.000-08:002005-01-18T09:05:01.766-08:00sorryI will be so glad once our family members arrive. Not only do I believe that they will help end my mom's depression, they will also relieve the stress between Zoe and I. Zoe and I used to have a fairly normal sister to sister relationship. But now that we've been sharing a room for months on end, it's been driving me crazy. She's such a slob... it's unbelievable that doesn't get on her own nerves with how untidy she keeps her side of her room! And so this morning, I couldn't handle it anymore, I went to put her things into piles in the corner so that she couldn't deal with them later... I just hated seeing things scattered everywhere.
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<br />As I picking up various articles of her clothing, a few pieces of paper fell to the ground. My eyes glanced upon the first few lines she had written before I realized that these sheets were a personal diary. I was surprised by the few sentences that I did read, as they pertained to me. They said something like:
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<br /><i>I think the person in my life that misunderstands me the most would be my sister. I somehow believe that she has a warped sense of who I truly am... she'll state things about me that just seem blatantly wrong.</i>
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<br />I thought that she'd be more angry with me, not feeling hurt that I misunderstand her. I'm just annoyed with her on a level that's not composed of serious, emotional matters... but I guess that I really have misunderstood her this time. I think I'll approach her about this (which will also be admitting that I read a part of her journal, which happened my accident, but I'm sure that she'll accuse me of snooping). However, if I do ask her about this whole thing, perhaps she and I can settle our differences before Uncle Uzi and Aunt Zola arrive (which I'm sure my mom would also appreciate).
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<br />Here goes nothing!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1104979069033049362004-12-17T06:25:00.000-08:002005-01-22T20:01:43.090-08:00brothers and sistersWe received a letter from my mom's brother and family in Zahrville. As a result of the increase in violence and bombings from the Brn, they've decided to flee.
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<br />They stated in the letter that they're coming no matter if they can stay with us or not. My Uncle Uzi said that if we can't house them, they'll go to the camp or find another place to live near us. My mom went to talk with my Uncle Zack and we've all decided that we'll split their family between our two houses. Of course they'll have to register with the UN, just like we did, but hopefully if we share all the food all three of our families receives, then we'll be able to make it last longer.
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<br />They also wrote that since Lorenzo's return, they'll all been scared for their own lives. Of course they're happy that he returned home (and alive at that), but should the Brn ever find out where Lorenzo lives, it would be a disasterous situation (even though the Brn aren't prominent in Zahrville, you never can be 100% sure).
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<br />So, preparations for our new family additions have been made. My uncle and aunt will stay in our house, and my three cousins will stay next door.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1105806052466328612004-12-11T08:01:00.000-08:002005-01-15T08:20:52.466-08:00fairytaleOne day, I'd love to travel to Europe. There are the obvious reasons for wanting to go, getting to see the great and historical continent, exploring its old cities, London, Paris, Rome, Berlin, etc. I've heard marvelous things about the place, my mom went to Paris when she was 12 years old, as her father went for business and took the family along (not a common opportunity in these parts), and she loved it. I'd especially love to see the Eiffel Tower. From the pictures I've seen of that magnificent structure, it looks incredible. Paris has many amazing architectural sites, and I'm sure that they'd be 100 times more inspiring right in front of me than they are in a picture. The same goes for London and Rome - old cities with old buildings. However, from what I've viewed from Berlin, it looks like a more modern type of city with beautiful buildings that are all glass it seems. This modern style is my favourite architectural style, and I hope that one day, I can design a building for Zaharia in that way. I'll get to that place, some day :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1104978297556870362004-12-08T06:06:00.000-08:002005-01-07T14:01:49.516-08:00let downIt's my dad's birthday today. I'm not sure what we'll do, but I'm sure it will involve a dinner with extended family... just like every time we have a birthday. I remember the days when we'd go out to a nice restaurant, eat any kind of food that we could think of, enjoy the atmosphere. I just hope the evening passes without any major disruptions.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1105136118194882612004-12-02T03:01:00.000-08:002005-01-22T20:02:11.426-08:00unravelWe've been here for 9 months now.
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<br />We've put our lives on hold for 9 slow passing months where nothing good has been produced. Nothing good at all.
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<br />When we got here in March, I remember thinking that we would only be here for perhaps 6 months. I never expected it to carry on until now. And the new year's approaching soon - what if we're stuck here forever? I will honestly go insane if that should happen.
<br />
<br />When looking back at the past nine months, it's amazing what has happened given the small space we now have to feel free...
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<br />- We moved into a new house.
<br />- We discovered exactly how a refugee camp runs.
<br />- My mom broke her ankle.
<br />- My friend was severely injured in a Brn bombing.
<br />- My brother was arrested.
<br />- My cousin returned home.
<br />- My brother got engaged.
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<br />Let's just hope that this all ends soon. *sigh*Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1104977037295966602004-11-26T01:47:00.000-08:002005-01-05T18:03:57.296-08:00paradeBecause of the increasing violence in Zaharia, the influx of refugees to both Camps 5 and 6 has been incredible. The new arrivals can't even fit inside the camps - so they're resorted to extreme overcrowding or tents sprouting up around the camp area itself. The last few times we've gone to pick up our food, we've received less and less each time. Luckily Ezra works at the market near our house so that we have some options, but for those inside the camps who rely solely on the rations, well let's just say that famine isn't a foreign concept anymore.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1105804840640196902004-11-20T04:48:00.000-08:002005-01-15T08:00:40.640-08:00sleeplessSomeone attempted to break into our house last night, at around 1 AM or so. My mother wasn't asleep (she's had trouble with that because of her depression) and so she woke up my dad. My dad's a brave man, and he got up and headed toward the door, where the would-be burglar was still trying to manipulate the lock. My dad starting yelling threats in a booming voice, which is when I woke up from the event. The burglar stopped almost immediately after my dad finished his "Why you do not want to fradulently enter my house" lecture. It was awesome. We suspect it was one of the camp's refugees, sneaking out and trying to steal things to sell and profit from back at the camp. It's a really sad situation, but we even don't have too much here in our house, so we have to defend the amount that we do have control over.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1104956908636219332004-11-17T05:23:00.000-08:002005-01-05T12:28:28.636-08:00harpoonI have not been doing so well recently. I've been sick with a cold for weeks that's just nagging me now. I want to sleep more, eat more, cry more. My mom and I can't talk without getting on each other's nerves and sharing a room with Zoe is driving me crazy. I am so depressed... I need to get out of this place.
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<br />I need a nap.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1106451603979997692004-11-13T01:28:00.000-08:002005-02-12T17:13:24.170-08:00gasolineI just finished reading the news and I'm so FED UP with the Brn! I hate the way they make this entire conflict seem like it's our fault. "The Zaharians this," "the Zaharians that," and, "we're so innocent." Please... you can't have a war without two parties!<br /><br />I've heard that Duchovnyville will soon be a city of ruins if this fighting keeps up. Buildings burn, explosions rock the streets, and people don't have much food, water, or electricity. And the world just lets this happen? Why do governments like Ruritania's support the Brn over the Zaharians? They obviously do not see just how degrading it is to grow up being constantly hated and oppressed. It should be the other way around, folks!<br /><br />Just make this end.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1106066123362999522004-11-10T03:06:00.000-08:002005-01-18T08:35:23.363-08:00lingerI realized I haven't posted too much on my little brother recently. He's still alive and well, don't worry!
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<br />The last time we were at the camp, a family of refugees was attempting to set up their tent, but they were having difficulty. Zeke walked over and offered to help, and he showed them how to tie a strong knot. I knew that he had loved his book that Mr. Fitzgerald gave to him for his birthday back in April, but I didn't know it would come in handy with helping others. A few of the other camp dwellers looked on as Zeke helped this family, and soon he found himself helping a few others with their tents as well.
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<br />I think that Ezra's engagement to Nia has hurt Zeke. Ezra used to take care of Zeke, and when he got his job at the market immediately upon moving here, his time with Zeke had already been cut short. And then with having a girlfriend, now fiancee, spending time with Zeke is virtually non-existent. I think Nia's picked up on Zeke's feelings and has been trying to make him feel better, which is working. Meanwhile, I've been trying to include Zeke in my life as much as possible. I don't want him to feel alienated just because Ezra isn't available as much as he used to be.
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<br />And this is better for me as well, seeing as Zoe and I are at each other's throats. :(Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1104955365643009272004-11-04T03:55:00.000-08:002005-01-05T12:02:45.643-08:00fade awayI got a letter from my friend Eliza who was almost killed in the Zahrville College bombing back in May. She said she is able to use all her limbs again, but she's terrified of going outside. She thanked me for writing her, but informed me that this would probably be our last correspondence for a long time, as she and her family were about to flee to Camp 6. They waited in Zahrville while she healed, but as soon as she was back to almost normal, they packed up and left.
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<br />She expressed how lucky my family was for leaving early. I know we made the right decision, but part of me wishes we had tried to tough it out back home. I miss Zaharia, I really do.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1104956534955229192004-10-25T01:04:00.000-07:002005-01-05T12:22:14.956-08:00sweetest thingYesterday was Ezra's birthday, and we were all in for a great surprise!
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<br />He invited Nia's family (so, her sister, uncle, aunt, and two cousins) over for dinner, and he helped prepare all the food with Zoe and myself. It was so delicious, probably the best meal I've eaten in a long time. Then Ezra stood up and made an announcement. He thanked Nia's family for coming to his birthday dinner. He asked Nia to stand up, and thanked her for being a part of his life. He then asked her to marry him with the most romantic tone in his voice, and she said yes!
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<br />We were clapping and cheering, and her family was just thrilled as well. I know it's been the best news we've heard since we moved to Ruritania.
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<br />Ezra's engaged! Unbelievable!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1104937555127783422004-10-18T08:02:00.000-07:002005-01-05T11:31:26.450-08:00where did you go?Mr. Fitzgerald disappeared for almost a month, but now has returned. I was really worried about his sudden vanishing, and no one knew anything about what might have happened to him. He's come back a changed person, from wherever he did go. He won't say anything to me about it... but something's not quite right.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1104954031362113512004-09-21T07:33:00.000-07:002005-01-05T11:40:31.363-08:00dear readers,I'm terribly sorry about my sporadic blogging updates. Recently I just haven't had as much motivation to update this online journal. Maybe it's because there's nothing much to report. Mayhaps it's the frequent internet outages that keep my words from appearing on screen. But, perhaps it's just because of me. This place and its depressing characteristics have been seeping into my pores, creeping into my heart and mind, distorting the way my eyes perceive this world. Bitterness has consumed me in all ways possible.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9310994.post-1105807667509581252004-09-16T02:23:00.000-07:002005-01-15T08:47:47.510-08:00don't panicMy mom's depression has practically consumed her in every way possible now.
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<br />She doesn't sleep at night, only during the day. She's always napping because she can't fall asleep when the rest of us do. She's constantly tired and moody, yelling at us for the smallest things. She'll often cry in a room by herself, and then will pretend everything's OK when you go to investigate what's the matter. My sister and I have made sure to divide all the kitchen chores between the two of us. I check books out for my mom from the library, but she doesn't finish them. Every now and then, she has a great day when she's smiling, cheerful, and helpful... but then she slips back into being down about the state of things. It's just so bizarre.
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<br />I've been reading about manic depression on a few websites, and she definitely shows symptoms of a classic case. Though I'm no psychologist, I think it's pretty obvious in her. That's the easy part. The hard part now is, I have NO idea what to do about it. She needs therapy, but that's a luxury that we don't have available anymore. I could go see the camp's doctors about it, but I think that they are more worried about physical disease, not mental. I guess the only option is for her to suffer through it herself until she realizes what's going on. :(Unknownnoreply@blogger.com