There is some other boats in Arguineguin harbour. Arguineguin on Gran Canaria. By the way. To call them boats is well a fornærming against themselves the term boat. Some vastrukne baljar is more precise. Less than a Norwegian færing. Farkostar one hardly would dare set over Måløysundet with whether one is happy in life.
Columnist Earl Wåge
is the debater, writer, and former winner of the tell-competition “Storyslam”. Photo: Sunniva Halvorsen
Last published posts Flyktningeleiren Moria is a former prison. With many thousand more people than there is space to get out of the anti-homoparaden, Ropstad “New again” may take a few weeks break Ropstad is on good, old been bondefanga of Erna Solberg Erna is dumb as oysters
Every single one of them has provoke the elements and crossed endless havstrekningar from Africa’s west coast, on the way to the forgjetta the country. Tilsaman closer to 200 miles in all. “Impossible”, think we are all that they see. “Physically impossible.”
Photo: Miriam Wåge Jensen Show more
One of the boats is called Leyla. Who is Leyla? Yes, say it. A beloved mother, daughter, more than? Actually uvesentleg. What matters, is that ten-fifteen menneskje proud that Leyla’s skrøpelege hull would be able to take them velberga of the sea. More youth funding. Adults. Parents who cast everything in the pot. Took with him the most pleasant and most precious they had, their children, and embarked on this madness of a insane seglas. Well vitande that the possibilities for forlise and drowning was uomtvistelege.
That they had all the odds against him. “There was no one who stopped them?” you ask. “Was it not a child? Imagine playing hasard with their own ungar on the way!”
It is only the desperate parents knew, was that it was farlegare to allow them to be returned. Were they able to save their children, had they set your life on the game to try to find the way to this lie out there somewhere.
In one of the other boats that lie there but a pink and black shawl. Aidia his, perhaps? There she had to your twelfth birthday your father by your grandmother say?
Photo: Miriam Wåge Jensen Show more
I will be upright and look at the gebrekkelege armadaen. One of the boats full of water. About to sink. On board in a different holk; a coolers without the lid. Sure to carefully porsjonerte knapsack and vassrasjonar to the crossing. Lastekapasiteten was not exactly boring with about twenty people on the most crowded. A plastduk over a thwart. Used as protection against stikkande the sun during the day and kjølege winds at night. A fruitless display against the lakes that washed over the boat.
I stand and look at the gebrekkelege armadaen, and I think: “They cruisar not just on the first class, these flyktningane.” Or “lykkejegarane” and “velferdsprofitørane” as some of our leading women and men so the face of formidable initial disadvantages call them.
to Where they are now , the survivors? Yes, say it. Maybe in a receipt? Sitting in the endless excitement. Comes on the final judgment from the Spanish briefing. Asylum or return?
There are a number of with the fly laina up at Las Palmas airport. Las Palmas on Gran Canaria. Some of them that in hundretal come from all over Europe and set your wheels light as a feather on the soløya his ground.
Some of them Norwegian. Where from come the many every single day. Chock-full of expectant solturistar on the way to enjoy Gran Canaria’s gåvmilde, almost-eternal summer. Gamlisar to escape from the cold and lårbeinsbrotsesong. With owned or leigd husvere in the Norwegian ghetto good as any man.
those that only have a week or two, live fast and intensely. Need to get the most at the earliest possible stage in the time-outen from duties and the hustle and bustle of the city. Pensjonistane, with months to take off, can live in rullatortempo, well vitande that the sun will skine on them in the morning also.
Soon since the on the Las Palmas Airport filled up the rest of the soltilbedarar and take them back to where they came from. Stinne of paella, sangria, paraplydrinkar and steinrike on new experiences as they genrøst parts with them, they randomly end up at because of the seterada. Tanned, healthy, happy. Convinced that it is far from the last time they will be visiting this island to the west of Africa’s coast.
On one of since the is seen differently. Set. Timid. In the rows of seats and some of them that was vegde and found too light. A group of man who have just been the future smashed. The aircraft is “ready for take off”. To take them back across the sea to where they came from. The last travel.