The sounds of keyboards clicking like bugs at night, the coffee pouring like little waterfalls, The espresso machine hissing like an angry python. The sight of steam dancing on top of the cups. I could smell the coffee brewing. I spend most of my days at Boil Line. Employment opportunities for illegal immigrants are very limited.
Yemen was a horrific place to live. Ma’rib, where I grew up, was usually under attack by a cultural tribe of a sort. Constant news of people dying by suicide bombers and airstrikes. I remember the people on the streets, trembling, sobbing after finding out who wouldn’t be coming home that night.
Ma’rib was a very unfortunate place to grow up. My beloved sister died when she was 14. I was 21. She was assaulted …show more content…
I looked for a place to plant my sugar-snap peas, and found a small space near an older lady. The instructions said to make sure the soil wasn’t too wet, but it couldn’t be dry. I found someone with a hose, and filled up my watering can. I used the water to find a good median between ‘too wet’ and ‘too dry’. The package also said to plant the seeds two feet apart, and one and a half inches deep. I used my shovel to plant the seeds. It wasn’t until then that I realized that I needed chicken wire behind the seeds for them to grow onto. I didn’t know where to find chicken wire! I looked around and saw that a middle aged man had …show more content…
Trembling, I got up, and walked over to the man. I was sweating. My heartbeat was in my throat, but I knew I had to talk to this man.
“Excuse me, sir, can I have a bit of your chicken wire for my plants? I forgot to get some, and-”
“Sure! No worries.” He said
He clipped off a good sized piece of the wire for me
“Be careful, these edges could cut your hands.” The man advised me.
I nodded and took the wire. My feet led me back to my area. A young man helped me put up the chicken wire. We talked while he worked. Kan latif jiddaan. His name was Viktor and he came from Iceland. His dog was very cute. He wasn’t married.
Men in Yemen can get married while teenagers. Usually younger that Viktor. I was lucky. I escaped marriage. No one wanted to marry a girl who couldn’t have children. I left that day with a sense of accomplishment. The sunset was setting over the river and mountains. A truly beautiful sight. I had talked to people, and none of them tried to hurt me in any way. They were all surprisingly kind. I felt as if I had something to look forward to now. A garden in a construction sight was unusual. Maybe a bit too unusual. I don’t know the city too well, or how strict they are with situations like this. I don’t even know if the city is aware of the garden. Maybe that will work in our