I LOVE YOU, ME NEITHER
Migration, history of the world
Erasmus + Migration
For several years now, the written and televised press has been reporting, with many shocking, provocative and harsh images, the sea crossings and attempts to reach Europe by thousands of people fleeing their countries of origin. War, hunger, dictatorship, tribal wars, lack of work, climatic disasters, natural disasters and other causes are at the origin of these unorganized or poorly organized escapes, of this migration from the south to the north, from poor to rich countries. But when we reflect on our history and past times, this migration is not new. Throughout history, migration has been a reality, a fact of daily life. Let us remember : After the Second World War, many Italians came to work in the coal mines of Belgium and northern France. Yugoslavs, Poles and Turks followed them with the same objective : to work. Spaniards and Portuguese also came to live here to escape dictatorial political regimes.Earlier in history, many Europeans from all countries left to populate the United States with the hope of finding money, land and happiness. The Spanish and Portuguese had, in previous centuries, invaded the territories from Mexico to Tierra del Fuego. In the Antilles, the primitive inhabitants of the islands disappeared and were replaced by slaves brought from Africa.
All the wars, the conquests during centuries were also factors of migration.Man, from the beginning of his existence had to be a migrant to live. He moved to find his food. This reflection was the starting point of the idea : « This is a vast and interesting subject, as old as it is current ». It is also an international subject because many countries around the world are confronted with the problem of human migration. But human migration is not the only form of migration. All living things on our planet have one thing in common: migration. Whether it is animal, plant or other, migration is an element that has existed since the birth of our planet. Didn’t the continents first experience migration when they broke up and formed the continents we know today ? Our environment, our village is included in the cycle of migration. Flénu was, during nearly a century a mining city. Coal was the underground ore. In the 1960’s, the population of Flénu counted up to 25% of Italian immigrants coming from the North, from the coast, from Sardinia, from Sicily. Then Polish workers followed them, Yugoslavs, Turks. The migration continued. Today, it is the Maghrebi populations that have been added to the European population. Important people of foreign origin can be found at all levels of Belgian society. The project was born. I proposed this subject to the partners who immediately agreed to this subject
common to all nations. The ideas of everyone were exchanged to compose the content of the project. And, for such a project, a strong idea was needed, the hope of a significant result: the exchange. This exchange took place through meetings with parents from migrant backgrounds and through the realization of this collective book, going from writing to illustration and composition. To do this, we asked for the help of the Mons School of Arts. We were on our way to achieve an objective, certainly ambitious, but answering a wish : our work will not be finished at the end of the project. To distribute our books, financed in part by the European Union, we needed an organization capable of distributing our work. This is where Amnesty International came in. Thanks to this work, this collaboration, we are proud, today, to allow children spread all over Europe to know a little more about migration stories, displacements, escapes, feelings of fear and everything that accompanies migration. Thanks to Mariya, Ibrahim, Anna-maria, Sandra, Guillermo, Jean-Marc, Laure-Anne, Ludovic who have been the driving force behind this work, who have made this book possible. This Erasmus project was really a European project, the result of a decided, active and productive cooperation. This book will remain a mark of our interest in migration in all its forms. Claude
Summary Antonio, from Sicily to Flénu - Belgium
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My Bulgarian Fairytale - Bulgaria
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A suitcase full of dreams - Italy
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One adventure, one new life- Portugal
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Tenerife, land of salvation - Spain
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Biga, home to Samiye - Turkey
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Antonio, from Sicily to Flénu. Belgium Christel Declève
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My name is Antonio. My family lived in Sicily. By the end of World War II, the bombs had destroyed many homes and factories. There was no more work. Like many Italians, my father agreed to come to Belgium to work in the coal mines. The train journey lasted two days. At that time, only the men left to work.
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We joined our father a year and a half later. The miners lived in tin barracks near the mine and slag heaps. While the men worked, the women took care of the meals, the laundry, the cleaning.
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Mining work was hard and dangerous. To work, you had to show your license every day. To protect themselves from the gas, the miners descended into the mine with a canary. If the canary died, we had to leave because there was dangerous gas.
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The work was hard and dangerous. Sometimes you had to crawl to reach the coal. Horses lived in the galleries to pull the carts filled with coal.
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I had two brothers and a sister. From the age of six, children went to school and learned French. The children would play marbles, soccer, sticks and sometimes we would go to the movies. We played on the slag heaps, we descended the slopes of the slag heap sitting on cardboard boxes or iron plates.
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My father died at 45, suffering from silicosis, a lung disease caused by coal dust. When I was 18, I returned to Italy. I was told that I was a foreigner, that I was Belgian. Thanks to my studies, I became a photographer. I moved to Flénu.
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My Bulgarian Fairytale Bulgaria Maria Bonova
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My story begins in the village of Ouzinkie, on Spuce Island in the State of Alaska, United States. Our only means of getting to the town of Kodiak is either by plane or boat. Our games varied with the seasons : playing games with neighbors, climbing trees, hiking, going to the beach, and exploring tidal pools were our main entertainment during the summer months. During the winter months, sledding, skating and playing in the snow was enough to keep us entertained.
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Climbing trees was another form of entertainment. I spent a lot of time on top of the trees looking into the distance and wondering what was there. What was beyond those hills ? And those mountains, what was on the other side ?
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I remember the winter months very well. Shoveling snow to clear houses, fishing on frozen lakes by digging a hole in them with an ax to access water to fish for trout-like fish, and best of all, skating on lakes and frozen swamps. Often, in groups, we raced and played hockey. I think everyone knew how to skate and it was as common as riding a bike.
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I started commercial salmon fishing in the summer of 1984. We fished with nets. The fish were stored in containers and covered with ice to keep them cool. Later, a boat came to weigh the fish and then transported them to Kodiak to be processed into canned or frozen salmon.
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In 2005, I decided to see what was happening in the world. So I planned a trip to Europe. Bulgaria to be exact. Why Bulgaria ? Because, with the appearance of the Internet, I had communicated with Milena, a Bulgarian with whom I had exchanged many things. Over time, my curiosity and interest intensified and I was determined to meet her in person. After receiving my passport, I planned my trip : Ouzinkie → Kodiak → Anchorage → Seattle → London → Sofia, Bulgaria. Milena had arranged to meet me in Sofia at the airport. During this first stay, I got to know the culture and important places of Bulgaria like Sofia, and monasteries.I also got to know Milena’s parents.
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In the months following my return to Alaska, I decided to return to Bulgaria. This time I spent Christmas and New Year holidays in Pazardzhik. I would be arriving in December and staying over Christmas and New Years, about 2 weeks in all. My journey was identical to the first time. The language barrier between Milena’s parents and me was both fun and a bit frustrating.
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I went back to Bulgaria a third time with a ninety-day visa to spend the 2006 end-of-year holidays there. Milena had found a language school where I could take Bulgarian lessons. At the end of this stay, I was afraid of never seeing again this marvelous person whom I had met. On January 2, 2007, I again had to leave Bulgaria. This separation was more difficult than the previous two. I had come to love Milena very much. The summer of 2007 was a very good year for salmon fishing. Of course, I kept in touch with Milena and had requested another visa valid from September to November. This time, my intentions were a little different. I bought an engagement ring and brought it with me to Bulgaria. I had thought a lot about this decision to buy the ring. I didn’t want to spend my life without Milena in it, and I hoped the ring would be a step in the right direction.
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Around mid-September, Milena and I took a drive up to Troyan Pass. On the way back down from the mountain I stopped at a small area where you can stop and take pictures of the valley below. The time had come. When Milena got out of the car, I got down on my knees, opened the engagement ring box and asked for her hand. She accepted the ring. We got married on November 16, 2007 in Pazardzhik. After a small celebration with Milena’s parents and her friends, we left for the Black Sea for the honeymoon. After the birth of our first child, Violeta, in July 2008, our little family visited my parents in October 2009.
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Since then we normally go to Alaska during the summer months where I fish commercially for salmon. We all stay in Bulgaria the rest of the year. I write and maintain Android phone apps during the winter months, and help my father-in-law with various «village» tasks, including pruning fruit trees, vines in the vineyard, and harvesting in fall.
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A suitcase full of dreams Italy Anna Maria Gladieri Giovanna Mendola Sirella Ronda
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A thought in my mind : to leave Romania. That evening I came back home very tired. The road seemed endless; the tree-lined avenue had the appearance of a large tunnel with no way out. A thought kept coming to mind: why going on living that way?
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The work I did, from morning at 8:00 until evening at 11:00, behind a bar counter, took away all my energy. Several times I had listened to the projects of men and women I usually met in that bar, who wanted to emigrate to France, who to Italy, who in Germany and who for even more distant countries. We dreamed of a job with other prospects, without being exploited for little money. I walked absorbed in my thoughts, in that semi-deserted road. Those projects were also mine.
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At my aunt’s house As soon as I got home, I smelled something that often nauseated me. The usual soup was waiting for me consisting of the leftovers of the lunch that was consumed at noon. The house where I was hosted was my aunt’s, who asked me a rent that left me with a few pennies. My aunt was all about her son to whom she reserved better food and money. For me, no sign of affection, no caress, just a few kind words from the uncle, my aunt’s husband. I realized there was no other choice. More and more time I thought of changing my life, but that evening, eating my soup, I made the final decision : I had to go away !
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Leaving for Italy with… my dreams. I was a young woman with so many dreams to fulfill, so on the 8th September, 2005, I left Romania for Italy. In the suitcase I had collected my dearest things: a few clothes, a pair of shoes and some memories of my parents, of my father, now elderly and my poor mother who was no longer with me. At that time, to cross the border, you had to declare that you were tourists and be in possession of 500 euros, to be able to support the costs of basic necessities. I remember that day as if it were yesterday, I was the only one who owned my own money, earned with so many sacrifices, the others, who traveled with me, had to borrow them.
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We left for Italy but the bus on which I was traveling, was stopped in Austria, for suspected drug trafficking. A surreal silence fell on the bus, the fear that that dream could end at any moment, made me particularly anxious. From time-to-time suffocated moans were heard from a couple of files further back from my seat. It was a young woman. She was sweating, she had a very pale face and twisted his mouth in a grimace of pain. Someone asked her if she was sick. We realized that she was about six months pregnant. In a short time, she began to writhe, so we decided to call the police to help her. After a while, an ambulance arrived with spiked sirens and the girl was transported to the hospital. I don’t remember how long we stood still in that pullman, but finally, the bus driver came back and he told us that we could continue our journey.
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My First Destination : Florence The first destination was Florence. When I got off the bus, just with my suitcase, I felt lost. I was in an unknown town that I had heard about. It was the city of the great poets and painters of the past. As I walked, the determination to change my life was getting stronger and stronger in my heart. For the first time I saw the magnificent cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore with marble colors on teal and pale pink. A true wonder! I still have in my eyes the height of Giotto’s bell tower. Suddenly I stopped; that was the place of the appointment. “Elena!” I got scared hearing my name in that unknown place. I turned around and when I finally saw my friends, Delia and Romina I was really happy. We hugged each other with love. I had tears in my eyes for joy, but immediately that euphoria faded away, because they told me that the job, they had promised me, was no longer there!
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I started to feel discouraged ! The beginning of my new life was not easy at all, the beginning of my new life was not at all simple. I had a lot of problems about language, culture, traditions and even the climate: it was very hot ! Everything was different than in Romania. Despite the many difficulties, with the help of my friends, I was able to find a precarious job that allowed me to face the first difficulties for some time. At the same time I felt the burden of being «foreign». The distrust, towards people who came from other places, was often very clear.
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I meet my love. Time passed, and I worked a lot, but I always tried to find time to meet my old friends and also other new friends coming from Romania. So it was that in a bar, where I spent a few hours together with my friends, I met Adrian. He looked at me and I returned his gaze. We fell in love almost immediately, and the plans to make my dreams come true, began to match my boyfriend’s plans. We had the same ideas about our future, we wanted a new life in Italy, a country we both liked, to get a good job so to have the opportunity to have a house, a family together.
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The Marriage in Romania. In 2007, with my future husband, we decided to return in Romania and finally realize our dream of love, so we got married in our country. The wedding took place according to the Orthodox rite, our religion. There were just a few guests, even the small catering we organized was very simple. But it didn’t matter. From that moment I was no longer alone, a path of real hope was just beginning. Some months later, when we, together, decided to come back to Italy. Romania had joined the European Union and a residence permit was no longer necessary, so it was easier to get to Italy.
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A new house in Italy : the birth of Andrei. My husband’s brothers were working in Campania a region in southern Italy and so we too decided to come to this region. I found a job as caretaker in Salerno, with a very nice lady and my husband got a job as bricklayer, together with his brothers. The mild climate, the sea with a thousand shades of blue, people so kind, everything seemed fine and I felt welcomed, and so we decided to put our new roots here in Italy, in Lancusi, a little town not far from Salerno. We were ready to begin our new life in this country. After a little time, I realized I was expecting a baby. On January 27, 2009, Andrei was born. My husband and I, think he is our link between Romania and Italy. Romania will always be the place of the heart, and every year, with joy, we return there, but Italy, by now, is the future, for us, and for Andrei, too.
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ONE ADVENTURE, ONE NEW LIFE Portugal Sandra Pereira
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I lived in a house situated in Cajuru, a small town in the state of São Paulo, in Brazil. Cajuru is a name given by the ancient Indians which meant “ entrance to the bush ”. It is a small city which is about 750 km from Brasilia, the capital of the country, and about 600 km from Rio de Janeiro, “ The marvellous city ”.
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Cajuru is known for having dozens of waterfalls in its surroundings. One of the best memories I have is discovering these waterfalls with my family. We spent hours in the water, diving and playing. They are a bit of paradise on earth!
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My classes were always in the morning. In the afternoon I did my homework and played football in the street. Football is a passion in Brazil ! As I lived close to my uncles, I played a lot with my cousins. But I also spent a lot of time on my cell phone
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I spent the beginning of the pandemic still in Brazil. We had classes through television, an initiative by the São Paulo Department of Education for students to have access to school subjects, since the schools had closed down. I had to spend more hours studying to compensate for the lack of direct support from teachers.
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The idea of coming to Portugal came from a discussion between my parents. Life in Brazil was more dangerous, with less security and more crimes. The price of goods kept rising. Covid increased unemployment and crime.
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When my parents got along, they decided that we would move to Portugal, where we had an aunt who had emigrated six years ago. She helped us prepare for the move: documents to enter the country, a job for my father, a place to live. We drove more than 7 hours to Brasília, to catch the plane at the international airport.
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When I arrived in Portugal, I was afraid of how my new life would be, my new school... As the same language - Portuguese - is spoken in Brazil and Portugal, I wasn’t expecting any difficulties. However, there are many different words, other words that we use with different meanings and the European Portuguese accent is different from Brazilian Portuguese, which sometimes makes it difficult for me to understand and communicate.
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The fact of having family and that there are many Brazilians living in Portugal helped us a lot. There are associations that support our integration in Portugal and even promote activities to remind us of Brazil : music, food, football games, popular parties...
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At school, my classmates and teachers welcomed me very well. It was much easier to make friends than I expected. Many are curious and ask me questions about my home country and my city. The communication part is evolving and I can understand people better. My parents work a lot. At first it was not easy for my mother to get a job, but then she managed. Here we feel that there is more safety on the streets and at school. I’m happy with my life in Portugal !
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Tenerife, land of salvation Spain Guillermo Lozano
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Moldova, do you know it ? It is my country. My name is Olga. I lived in a village with my husband. In the 1990s, I got married, then my first son was born. My husband was responsible of a department in a large company. One day, we went to have dinner with relatives, 50 km from our house.
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During this night, a theft took place in the company. My husband was wrongfully accused of the theft and locked in a cell. Released, my husband changed company, but the wages were not paid regularly.
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We had to make a difficult decision: to emigrate to another country to provide an easier life for our child. It was a difficult choice for us in 2001. We finally opted for Spain. My husband was going to Spain alone. We, my son and I, would join him later. This decision changed our life.
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From Moldova he traveled to Germany by bus. There, a friend was to wait for him and help him but, on arrival, no one. He therefore decided to reach Madrid by train. There too, a contact was missing. Eventually, he stayed with a relative in the Spanish capital for a few days. Finally, he joined Tenerife where the hope of finding work was greatest. For three years, I stayed in touch with my husband through letters and phone calls.
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After difficult years in my Moldavian village, our family was together again 5 years later of my husband arrival to Spain, I was able to join him in Tenerife via Frankfurt. Being in Spain, years later my daughter was born. In Tenerife, I learned to speak Spanish correctly. I met other Moldovan emigrants who became our friends. I helped out in schools and did theater to fit in. In 2008, following the banking crisis, we experienced difficult times. Our house was seized by the bank.
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Today, we have our own house and we are happy in Spain, always with Moldavia in our heart. My son speaks 5 different languages and study at university and our daughter is also an excellent student.
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BIGA, HOME TO SAMIYE. Turkey Ilimen Aysenur Ibrahim Donmez
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My name is Samiye. I was living in Afghanistan with a big family. We had a big house and a big garden. My father was a farmer. We grew vegetables and fruits. My sister was planting flowers. A swing was hanging from a branch of a tree and my friends came to play with me. One of my brothers was in charge of bringing firewood, another took the cattle to pasture.
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But one day, the war started. My father then decided to leave with the family for Turkey.After the " goodbye " to grandparents, uncles, neighbors and friends, we left by car. After a week we reached Iran. Crossing Iran was very dangerous because thieves kidnapped people and required a ransom.
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Then a wheel of the car broke. My mother and the children walked while the men pushed the car. We had to spend the night in the forest being very careful because soldiers were patrolling. The " smuggler " called another car which took us to Tehran, the capital of Iran, where we stayed for three days. We then continued the trip, but at the border, soldiers sent us back to Iran.
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We wanted to reach Turkey. We followed a mountainous road, climbing for more than fifteen hours. After a night spent hidden behind a large rock, we resumed our walk. We climbed mountains, drank the water that fell from that mountain. My parents were scared because soldiers were everywhere. We were thus able to cross the Turkish border. Thanks to a friend of my brother, we were able to escape the police and reach Biga after eighteen hours on the road. In Biga, we received identity cards and we were able to go to school to learn to read and write. For two years, we are living in Biga and I hope that no one will experience such an adventure.
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ORIGINAL TEXTS
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Antonio, de la Sicile à Flénu Je m’appelle Antonio. Ma famille vivait en Sicile. A la fin de la deuxième guerre mondiale, les bombes avaient détruit beaucoup de maisons et d’usines. Il n’y avait plus de travail. Comme beaucoup d’Italien, mon père a accepté de venir travailler en Belgique dans les mines de charbon. Le voyage en train durait deux jours. A ce moment, seuls les hommes partaient travailler. Nous avons rejoint notre père un an et demi plus tard. Les mineurs vivaient dans des baraquements en tôles près de la mine et des terrils. Pendant que les hommes travaillaient, les femmes s’occupaient des repas, de la lessive, de nettoyage. Le travail des mineurs était dur et dangereux. Pour travailler, il fallait montrer son permis chaque jour. Pour se protéger du gaz, les mineurs descendaient dans la mine avec un canari. Si le canari mourait, il fallait partir parce qu’il y avait du gaz dangereux. Le travail était dur et dangereux. Il fallait parfois ramper pour atteindre le charbon. Des chevaux vivaient dans les galeries pour tirer les wagonnets emplis de charbon. J’avais deux frères et une sœur. A partir de six ans, les enfants allaient à l’école et apprenaient le français.
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Les enfants jouaient aux billes, au football, aux bâtons et parfois, nous allions au cinéma. Nous jouions sur les terrils, on descendait les pentes du terril assis sur des cartons ou des plaques en fer. Mon père est mort à 45 ans, atteint de silicose, maladie des poumons due aux poussières de charbon. A 18 ans, je suis retourné en Italie. On m’a dit que j’étais étranger, que j’étais Belge. Grâce à mes études, je suis devenu photographe. Je me suis installé à Flénu.
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Моята българска приказка Моята история започва в село Узинки, на остров Спрус в щата Аляскa, Съединените щати. Единственият транспорт до град Кодиак е или със самолет, или с лодка. Игрите ни варираха със сезоните: игри със съседските деца, катерене по дърветата, разходки по плажа и изследване на приливите – това бяха основните ни забавления през летните месеци. А през зимата – спускане с шейни, пързаляне и игри в снега – беше ни достатъчно, за да се забавляваме. Катеренето по дървета беше друга форма на забавление. Прекарвах дълго време на върха на някое дърво просто взирайки се в далечината. Чудех се какво има там!? Какво можеше да се види зад онези хълмове? И онези планини – как изглежда светът от другата им страна? Много ярки са спомените ми от зимните месеци – риeнето на снега от къщите, риболовът в леда с брадва, за да стигнем до водата и да ловим риба, подобна на дъговата пъстърва, но най-вълнуващо беше пързалянето по замръзналите езера и блата. Събирахме се деца и се състезавахме, и играехме хокей. Мисля, че всеки знаеше как да се пързаля и това беше толкова привично за нас, колкото и карането на колело. Обучението си завърших в гимназията в Кодиак. Имаше много дискриминация, насочена към „децата от село”. Записах се на най-трудните курсове по математика, а също и класовете по компютри. Вероятно това е и мястото, на което развих моето постоянно желание да стигам до същността на нещата. По това време кубчето на Рубик беше популярно и аз се научих как да го редя. Станах и шампион по шах в гимназията за 1982-1983г.
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През лятото на 1984 г. започнах да се занимавам с търговски улов на сьомга. Използваме мрежи. Рибата се съхранява в контейнери, изолирани с лед, така че да се държи на студено. След това пристига лодка, претегля улова и го откарва в Кодиак за обработка в консервирана или замразена сьомга. През 2005 г. реших да опозная по света и планирах пътуване до Европа, по-точно България. Защо България? Защото с появата на интернет започнах да общувам с Милена, българка, с която бяхме разменили много мнения за различни неща от живота. С времето моето любопитство и заинтересованост се засилваха и аз бях решен да се запозная на живо с нея. След като получих паспорт, планирах маршрутът ми: Узунки – Кодиак – Анкъридж – Сиатъл – Лондон – София, България. Милена беше на летището, за да ме посрещне. По време на този първи престой опознах културата и важните места на България като София и манастирите. Запознах се и с родителите на Милена. В месеците след завръщането ми в Аляска, аз си припомнях преживяното и реших да се върна в България. Този път прекарах коледните и новогодишни празници в Пазарджик. Щях да пристигна през декември и да остана за Коледа и Нова година, общо за около две седмици. Маршрутът ми беше сходен като първия път. Езиковата бариера между мен и нейните родители, от една страна, беше забавна, но и малко притеснителна. Върнах се в България за трети път с виза валидна 90 дни, за да прекарам там празниците в края на 2006 г. Милена беше намерила езикова школа, в която да взема уроци по български език. В края на този престой се страхувах, че никога повече няма да видя този прекрасен човек, с когото се бях запознал. На 02.01.2007г. аз отново трябваше да си тръгна от България. Тази раздяла беше по-трудна от предишните две. Бях започнал да харесвам Милена много. През лятото на 2007г. имахме много добър улов на сьомга. Разбира се, поддържах връзка с Милена и кандидатствах за нова
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виза, валидна от месец септември до месец ноември. Този път намеренията ми бяха различни. Избрах годежен пръстен и го взех с мен в България. Много дълго обмислях решението дали да купя годежен пръстен. Не исках да прекарам живота си без Милена да е част от него и се надявах, че пръстенът е стъпка в правилната посока. Около средата на септември аз и Милена пътувахме през прохода Троян. На връщане аз отбих на едно място, където човек може да направи хубави снимки на долината. Беше настъпил мигът. В момента, в който Милена слизаше от колата, аз паднах на коляно, отворих кутийката с годежния пръстен и я помолих да се омъжи за мен. Тя прие. Оженихме се на 16 ноември 2007 г. в Пазарджик. След мило тържество с родителите на Милена и нейните приятели, потеглихме към черноморието за медения месец. След раждането на първото ни дете Виолета през юли 2008 г., нашето малко семейство посети родителите ми през октомври 2009 г. Оттогава, обикновено пътуваме до Аляска през летните месеци и там аз ловя сьомга с търговска цел. През останалото време от годината сме в България. Създавам и поддържам приложения за андроид през зимните месеци и помагам на тъст ми с различни „селски” работи, като подрязване на овошки и на лозето и събиране на реколтата през есента.
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UNA VALIGIA PIENA DI SOGNI Un pensiero si fa strada: lasciare la Romania. Quella sera tornai a casa stanchissima. La strada sembrava interminabile, il viale alberato aveva l’aspetto di un grande tunnel senza uscita. Un pensiero continuava a martellarmi nella testa: perché continuare a vivere in quel modo? Il lavoro che svolgevo, dalla mattina alle 8:00 fino a sera alle 11:00, dietro a un bancone di un bar, mi toglieva ogni energia. Più volte avevo ascoltato i progetti di uomini e donne che si avvicendavano in quel bar, chi voleva emigrare in Francia, chi in Italia, chi in Germania e chi per Paesi ancora più lontani. Si sognava un lavoro con altre prospettive, senza essere più sfruttati per pochi soldi. Con questi pensieri camminavo assorta per quella strada semideserta. Quei progetti erano anche i miei. A casa della zia Entrata in casa, mi assalii quell’odore che a volte mi nauseava. Mi aspettava la solita minestra costituita dagli avanzi del pranzo che si consumava a mezzogiorno. La casa dove ero ospitata apparteneva a mia zia, la quale pretendeva una pigione che mi lasciava mensilmente con pochi spiccioli. Mia zia era tutta protesa verso il figlio a cui destinava cibo migliore e soldi. Per me, nessun gesto di affetto, nessuna carezza, solo qualche parola gentile dallo zio acquisito. Non c’era altra scelta, avevo più volte pensato di cambiare vita, ma quella sera, ingoiando la mia minestra, presi la decisione definitiva: andare via! La partenza per l’Italia con tanti sogni nella valigia Ero una giovane
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donna con tanti sogni da realizzare, così l’8 settembre del 2005, sono partita dalla Romania alla volta dell’Italia. Nella valigia avevo raccolto le cose più care: pochi vestiti, un paio di scarpe e qualche ricordo dei miei genitori, di un papà ormai anziano e della mia povera mamma che non c’era più. A quell’epoca, per varcare la frontiera, bisognava dichiarare di essere turisti ed essere in possesso di 500 euro, per poter far fronte alle spese di prima necessità. Quel giorno, lo ricordo come fosse ieri, ero l’unica a possedere soldi miei, guadagnati con tanti sacrifici, gli altri che viaggiavano con me, avevano dovuto chiederli in prestito. Partimmo per l’Italia ma il pullman dove viaggiavo, venne fermato in Austria, per sospetto traffico di droga. Sull’autobus calò un silenzio surreale, la paura che quel sogno potesse finire da un momento all’altro mi rendeva particolarmente ansiosa. Di tanto in tanto si udivano dei lamenti soffocati provenienti da un paio di file più indietro rispetto al mio posto a sedere. Era una ragazza. Sudava, aveva un viso pallidissimo e storceva la bocca in una smorfia di dolore. Qualcuno le chiese se stesse male. Ci accorgemmo che era in attesa, forse di cinque, sei mesi. In breve, cominciò a contorcersi, così decidemmo di chiamare le guardie per farla soccorrere. Dopo un po’ arrivò un’ambulanza a sirene spigate e la ragazza venne trasportata in ospedale.
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Non ricordo quanto tempo siamo rimasti fermi in quel pullman, finalmente, l’autista ci raggiunse e ci comunicò che potevamo proseguire il nostro viaggio. Prima destinazione: Firenze. La prima destinazione è stata Firenze. Alla stazione dove scesi con la mia valigia, mi sentii smarrita. Ero in una città sconosciuta di cui avevo sentito parlare. Era la città dei grandi poeti e dei grandi pittori del passato. Man mano che camminavo, la determinazione a cambiare vita si faceva sempre più strada nel mio cuore. Per la prima volta ho visto la magnifica cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore dai colori marmorei sul verde acqua e rosa pallido. Una vera meraviglia! Ho ancora negli occhi l’altezza del campanile di Giotto. Mi fermai di colpo, esattamente lì era il luogo dell’appuntamento. “Elena!” Sentire pronunciare il mio nome, in quel luogo sconosciuto, mi fece sobbalzare, finalmente vidi le mie amiche, Delia e Romina. Ci abbracciammo con affetto. Avevo le lacrime agli occhi per la gioia, ma subito quell’euforia si spense, perché mi comunicarono che il lavoro che mi avevano promesso, non c’era più ! Lo sconforto cominciò a farsi strada, l’inizio della mia nuova vita non era affatto semplice. Avevo grossi problemi con la lingua, la cultura, le tradizioni e persino il clima: faceva un gran caldo! Tutto era diverso rispetto alla Romania. Tra le tante difficoltà, con l’aiuto delle mie amiche, riuscii a trovare un lavoro precario che mi permise di resistere un po’ di tempo. A volte sentivo il peso di essere
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“straniera”, la diffidenza nei confronti di chi proveniva da altri luoghi, era spesso molto evidente. L’incontro d’amore Il tempo passava, il lavoro mi assorbiva, ma a giorni stabiliti, incontravo le mie amiche ad altri amici provenienti dalla Romania. Fu così che in un bar, dove trascorrevamo qualche ora di spensieratezza conobbi Adrian. Lui mi guardava e io corrispondevo il suo sguardo. Ci innamorammo quasi subito, e i progetti di realizzare i miei sogni, cominciarono a combaciare con i progetti del mio ragazzo. Avevamo le stesse idee per il nostro futuro, volevamo una nuova vita in Italia, un paese che piaceva ad entrambi, ed trovare un buon lavoro così da avere l’opportunità di avere una casa, una famiglia insieme. Il Matrimonio in Romania Nel 2007, con il mio futuro marito, siamo tornati in Romania e finalmente abbiamo coronato il nostro sogno d’amore. Le nozze si svolsero secondo il rito ortodosso, la nostra religione. Pochi erano gli invitati presenti, anche il piccolo rinfresco che organizzammo fu molto semplice. Ma non importava, da quel momento non ero più sola, cominciava una strada di concreta speranza. Insieme, siamo tornati in Italia, dove non serviva più il permesso di soggiorno perché la Romania era entrata a far parte dell’Unione Europea.
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Una nuova casa in Italia- la nascita di Andrei I fratelli di mio marito lavoravano in Campania e così anche noi siamo arrivati in questa regione. Io trovai lavoro a Salerno presso una signora. Il clima mite, il mare dalle mille sfumature di azzurro, la città mi aveva accolto e fu così che mettemmo, finalmente, le nostre nuove radici a Lancusi, un paese poco distante dal centro cittadino. Da quel momento è cominciata la nostra vera vita: ben presto mi resi conto di essere in attesa di un bambino. Il 27 gennaio del 2009, è nato Andrei, il nostro anello di congiunzione tra la Romania e l’Italia. La Romania resta il luogo del cuore, e ogni anno, con entusiasmo, vi torniamo, ma l’Italia, ormai, è il nostro futuro e quello di Andrei.
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UMA AVENTURA, UMA NOVA VIDA Eu morava num prédio situado em Cajuru, uma pequena cidade do estado de São Paulo, no Brasil. Cajuru é um nome dado pelos antigos indígenas e que significava “entrada do mato”. É uma cidade pequena que fica a cerca de 750 km de Brasília, a capital do país e cerca de 600 km do Rio de Janeiro, a “Cidade Maravilhosa”. Cajuru é conhecida por ter nos arredores dezenas de cascatas. Uma das melhores recordações que tenho é descobrir essas cascatas com a minha família. Passava horas na água, a mergulhar e a brincar. São um pouco de paraíso na Terra! As minhas aulas eram sempre de manhã. À tarde fazia os trabalhos de casa e jogava futebol na rua. O futebol é uma paixão no Brasil! Como morava perto de uns tios, brincava muito com os meus primos. Mas também passava muito tempo no telemóvel. Passei o início da pandemia ainda no Brasil. Tínhamos aulas através da televisão, uma iniciativa da secretaria de educação de São Paulo para que os alunos tivessem acesso às matérias escolares, dado que as escolas fecharam. Tive de passar mais horas a estudar para compensar a falta do apoio direto dos professores. A ideia de vir para Portugal surgiu de uma discussão entre os meus pais. A vida no Brasil estava mais perigosa, menos segurança e mais crimes. O preço dos produtos não parava de subir. A Covid veio aumentar o desemprego e a criminalidade.
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Quando os meus pais se entenderam, decidiram que nos mudaríamos para Portugal, onde tínhamos uma tia que havia emigrado há seis anos. Ela ajudou-nos a preparar a mudança: documentos para entrar no país, um trabalho para o meu pai, um sítio para viver. Fizemos uma viagem de carro de mais de 7 horas até Brasília, para apanhar o avião no aeroporto internacional. Quando cheguei a Portugal, tive medo de como seria a minha nova vida, a minha nova escola… Como no Brasil e em Portugal se fala a mesma língua – Português – não estava à espera de dificuldades nesse aspeto. No entanto, há muitas palavras diferentes, outras palavras que utilizamos com significados também diferentes e o sotaque do Português Europeu é diferente do Português do Brasil, o que dificulta, por vezes, a minha compreensão e comunicação. O facto de ter família e haver muitos brasileiros a viver em Portugal, ajudou-nos muito. Há associações que apoiam a nossa integração em Portugal e até promovem atividades para nos lembrarmos do Brasil: música, comida, jogos de futebol, festas populares… Na escola, os meus colegas e professores acolheram-me muito bem. Foi muito mais fácil fazer amizades do que estava à espera. Muitos sentem curiosidade e fazem-me perguntas sobre o meu país natal e a minha cidade. A parte da comunicação está a evoluir e consigo entender melhor as pessoas.
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Os meus pais trabalham muito. No início não foi fácil a minha mãe arranjar emprego, mas depois conseguiu. Aqui sentimos que há mais segurança nas ruas e na escola. Estou feliz com a minha vida em Portugal!
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TENERIFE, TIERRA DE SALVACIÓN Moldavia, ¿lo conoces? Es mi país. Mi nombre es Olga. Vivía en un pueblo con mi marido. A finales de 1990 me casé, después nació mi primer hijo. Mi marido era responsable de un departamento en una gran empresa. Un día, fuimos a cenar con familiares, a unos 50 kilómetros de nuestra casa. Durante esa noche, un robo tuvo lugar en la empresa. Mi marido fue erróneamente acusado del robo y fue encerrado en el calabozo una noche. Una vez que fue liberado, mi marido cambió de trabajo, pero había veces que no pagaban los salarios y era difícil seguir así. Tuvimos que tomar una difícil decisión: emigrar a otro país buscando un futuro mejor para nuestro hijo. Fue una difícil decisión para nosotros en 2001. Finalmente optamos por ir a España. Mi marido iba a ir primero, mi hijo y yo, iríamos más tarde. Esta decisión cambió nuestras vidas. Desde Moldavia, él viajó a Alemania en autobús. Ahí, un amigo tenía que esperarlo para ayudarle, pero a la llegada no había nadie esperando. Siguió el viaje hacia Madrid en tren, donde otro amigo que le iba a esperar tampoco apareció. Estuvo unos días en casa de un familiar lejano, y posteriormente siguió su viaje rumbo a Tenerife. Durante tres años, estuve en contacto con mi marido a través de cartas y llamadas de teléfono.
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Después de unos años difíciles en mi pueblo de Moldavia, nuestra familia volvió a estar juntos 5 años después de la llegada de mi marido a España, ya que mi hijo y yo nos trasladamos a Tenerife con él. Estando en España, años después nació mi hija. En Tenerife, aprendí a hablar español correctamente. Conocí a otros compatriotas moldavos que se convirtieron en amigos. Participé en muchas actividades del colegio de mis hijos, incluso hicimos obras de teatro. En 2008, con la crisis inmobiliaria de España, tuvimos tiempos complicados. Nuestra casa fue embargada por el banco. Hoy en día, tenemos nuestra propia casa y somos felices en España, aunque Moldavia está en nuestro corazón. Nuestro hijo habla 5 idiomas y estudia en la universidad, nuestra hija es también una excelente estudiante.
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Biga, Samiye’nin evi Benim adım Samiye. Afganistan’da büyük bir aileyle yaşıyordum. Büyük bir evimiz ve büyük bir bahçemiz vardı. Babam bir çiftçiydi. Sebze ve meyve yetiştirdik. Kız kardeşim çiçek dikiyordu. Bir ağaç dalından salıncak sallanıyordu ve arkadaşlarım benimle oynamaya geldi. Kardeşlerimden biri odun getirmekle görevliydi, diğeri sığırları otlağa götürdü. Sonra bir gün savaş başladı. Babam daha sonra ailesiyle birlikte Türkiye’ye gitmeye karar verdi. Dedelere, amcalara, komşulara ve arkadaşlara «elveda» ettikten sonra arabayla yola çıktık. Bir hafta sonra İran’a ulaştık. İran’ı geçmek çok tehlikeliydi çünkü hırsızlar insanları kaçırdı ve fidye istedi. Sonra arabanın bir tekerleği kırıldı. Adamlar iterken annem ve çocuklar yürüdüler. araba. Askerler devriye gezdiği için geceyi ormanda çok dikkatli geçirmek zorunda kaldık. “Kaçakçı” başka bir araba çağırdı ve bizi üç gün kaldığımız İran’ın başkenti Tahran’a götürdü. Daha sonra yolculuğa devam ettik ama sınırda askerler bizi İran’a geri gönderdi.
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Türkiye’ye ulaşmak istedik. On beş saatten fazla tırmanarak dağlık bir rotaya devam ettik. Büyük bir kayanın arkasına saklanarak geçirdiğimiz bir gecenin ardından yürüyüşümüze devam ettik. Dağlara tırmandık, o dağdan düşen suyu içtik. Ailem korktu çünkü askerler her yerdeydi. Böylece Türkiye sınırını geçebildik. Ağabeyimin bir arkadaşı sayesinde polisten kaçmayı başardık ve on sekiz saatlik yolun ardından Biga’ya ulaştık. Biga’da nüfus cüzdanlarımızı aldık ve okuma yazma öğrenmek için okula gidebildik. İki yıldır Biga’da yaşıyoruz ve umarım kimse böyle bir macera yaşamaz.
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Rédaction des textes Claude Declève - Christel Declève Mariya Bonova Anna Maria Gladieri - Giovanna Mendola - Sirella Ronda Sandra Pereira -Guillermo Lozano -Ilimen Ausenur - Ibrahim Donmez Illustrations Ludovic Cuche Conception graphique Laure-Anne Carrera Direction artistique Jean-Marc Vanoevelen Impression Imprimerie Snel Diffusion Amnesty International
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