Saturday, March 14, 2009

Frustration The Card Game Rules

Patras know?

Più di una frontiera, l'Italia è tutta una frontiera che guarda il mare. Lampedusa Crotone Lecce Bari fino a Venezia. Parliamo di che succede a Lampedusa, chi ci è passato lo sa bene che succede laggiù, vivere in 1800 in un campo per 600 persone, arrivare senza sapere dove si arriva e dove si va, essere ficcati in un aereo che ti riporta indietro, in uno dei posti indietro, che hai attraversato e dove hai pagato e sei stato picchiato internato torturato per essere qui: Libia, Egitto, Tunisia, Iran, Grecia. Ti ci spediscono a caso indietro, accordance with international agreements that Italy is paying the appropriate respective governments, not according to your origin. Your true origin no one wants to know. Or playing ping pong between Patras and Venice, until someone dies and someone else wins it ....

course I know what Patras, have been there for a year to live there. Not in the real city, but in the hidden city of the Afghans, because there are all Afghans who are organizing and we live with what they can, blankets and cardboard boxes and what they find. Live there with a bit 'of money in my pocket, I've worked through Iran and took three hundred euro. In Iran find a job easily, but life is impossible for foreigners. If you are a foreigner devi sparire, la legge dello Stato è contro di te, gli abitanti sono tutti contro di te, non è nemmeno pensabile una voce o un giornale di stranieri là. E gli stranieri sono solo Afgani e Curdi, ci riconoscono facilmente. A nessuno straniero danno il permesso di soggiorno. Là vai e muori straniero
Dall'Iran siamo arrivati in Grecia, lì ci hanno preso le impronte digitali e ci hanno dato un foglio che diceva che dovevamo andare via o fare domanda di asilo entro un mese. Ma tutti in Grecia dicono di andartene, che non si può restare là, e così decidiamo di andare in Italia a chiedere asilo. A Patrasso ogni giorno c'è qualcuno che prova a entrare in Italia. Ci mettiamo dentro i camion, se paghi ti organizzano tutto loro, to live but in my case I ran out of money I had and I had to go into the truck on the sly. I made the trip from Patras to Venice 20 times. And twenty return I remember them all. When you arrive at the port of Venice there are controls on the financial police or military, shall pass the truck under the radar as you baggage at airports and they catch you. Or if you do not have the trucks enter the radar and control everything with the torches. At night if you are well hidden there any more likely that you do not see it. But if you hide too well is not breathing. When you will put inside the first ship goods in the hold, and will return to Patras. Without asking anything, coming from where and why. Some friends have put them near the engine the ship and went crazy for the sound, others have died in the heat down there. A few months ago they found a child of ten years at sea, I do not know if he died at sea, those who have thrown, and his pants had a sheet of expulsion from Italy. Then there arrived in Italy.
The twenty-first time I left I was holding on by a truck as he embarks on Bari Some clings above and who stands between the wheels. Once in Bari and take the truck down the highway. Until then he had always traveled a plan, but nell'autostrada was strong and there was a tremendous wind. At one point I could not more, could not feel my arms and hands, it was impossible to continue to be among the wheels, I thought and now I let myself die. See death many times on these trips. It is fun to run away.
While I think that is over the truck slows, then stops. It 's a gas station. I am still alive because a truck on a highway between Bari and did not know where gasoline. I am free and I will ask the nearest station, they tell me that is very far, just start walking. Arrival in a small town and I get on a train to Rome. I knew the name of this city, but did not know that nobody here knows who we are we are the first refugees to arrive. And we spend here, too, once you arrive. I'll tell you a funny scene in the police: my friend has said where he comes from, is application for asylum, and the cop says, "You do not fool me, thou hast eyes to madorla, you're China!" and then when my friend told him he was born in 1387 (in Afghanistan do not have your calendar, our calendar sets of Muhammad), then the policeman imbufalisce and says, "But take my ass? Go away and never come back. "

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