Brilliant Alia, the suspense as you drive across the border in the little maroon van was palpable! What a story, and you tell it so well. I am left with a feeling of gratitude for the place where I live, for all its safety and the laughs, which are - as you say — by kookaburras — and kids throwing snow into the sky. And also a feeling of remembrance for all the people who have lived and are living through violence and war.
Thank you, Kate. I am forever grateful for my circumstances, too. I feel like the richest person in the world. Not monetary rich, because those sorts of riches beyond what we need for comfort and survival are worthless, but rich in experience, in middling between both sides of the world, in love and friendship, and in safety. When I look out my window, all I see is beauty, and I know I'm immensely privileged to be that position.
You are such a great writer, Alia, and this story really resonated with me. Many decades ago now, I was detained at the Mexican border with a small group of young people, one of whom was carrying drugs (very different situation but no less terrifying), and unbeknownst to me. Agents tore the car apart and I was searched and put in a cell until this got worked out. I was sure I would never see my mother again (laughing about it now). So I read this and was alternately gasping and applauding your courage!
And again, I totally love your word of the week section! One of my favorite words, too!
A jailbird! That would have been absolutely terrifying, Nancy. Being innocent is not always relevant in such circumstances, so I can imagine your predicament. I find there's always an element of the luck of the draw with border crossings. There's something about them that makes you feel like a criminal even when you're not. The suspicion, the powerlessness, the extortion 😆 It's always a relief to make it through.
Brilliant Alia, the suspense as you drive across the border in the little maroon van was palpable! What a story, and you tell it so well. I am left with a feeling of gratitude for the place where I live, for all its safety and the laughs, which are - as you say — by kookaburras — and kids throwing snow into the sky. And also a feeling of remembrance for all the people who have lived and are living through violence and war.
Thank you, Kate. I am forever grateful for my circumstances, too. I feel like the richest person in the world. Not monetary rich, because those sorts of riches beyond what we need for comfort and survival are worthless, but rich in experience, in middling between both sides of the world, in love and friendship, and in safety. When I look out my window, all I see is beauty, and I know I'm immensely privileged to be that position.
You are such a great writer, Alia, and this story really resonated with me. Many decades ago now, I was detained at the Mexican border with a small group of young people, one of whom was carrying drugs (very different situation but no less terrifying), and unbeknownst to me. Agents tore the car apart and I was searched and put in a cell until this got worked out. I was sure I would never see my mother again (laughing about it now). So I read this and was alternately gasping and applauding your courage!
And again, I totally love your word of the week section! One of my favorite words, too!
A jailbird! That would have been absolutely terrifying, Nancy. Being innocent is not always relevant in such circumstances, so I can imagine your predicament. I find there's always an element of the luck of the draw with border crossings. There's something about them that makes you feel like a criminal even when you're not. The suspicion, the powerlessness, the extortion 😆 It's always a relief to make it through.
You’re a wonderful writer, Alia.
Thank you, Claudia. That's very kind of you.
Thank you for sharing Alia.
You're welcome Gillian. Sorry it was a little heavy this week.