WAVES NEED LIFE JACKETS
Those angry waves of blue were too mad for our small ship filled with large hearts and many many many people.
This monologue is based on refugees I encountered on the Greek island of Samos, a news article, and a young man with his little brother at the Ulus Refugee Center. The dangers that come with maritime travel and the sacrifices people make for safety and the pursuit of a new life are jarring and unfortunately very common. So far this year, 2,500 refugees have died crossing the Mediterranean Sea. During my visit to Samos, I came across a camp filled with refugees who had just arrived, ripped life jackets strewn across driveways and beaches as refugees sprinted to depart the boats, and piles of backpacks, shoes, and plastic bags. This piece explains the stories of these physical objects and the people that used them. The title of my project, Small Ships with Large Hearts, was taken directly from this monologue and was inspired by the bravery of those dying to arrive on dry ground.
waves
do you ever think about them?
about water
the blue
the view
the cold and the bold
hope that comes from a ship in the empty sea
sailing to your future
to your home
to your vacation destination
to a party or maybe
to your death.
We sailed from the coast of Turkey
to Samos
Greece.
my feet touched the rough floor of the ship
water seeped in from the lapping of the current
and life jackets.
life jackets hung in the back, lonely because no one thought we would need them
because no one thought to hold onto one as if it was your own baby
as if it was your mother
or your pillow.
we ignored what could save us because we thought this journey was our savior
recklessness clouded our sense and too many thoughts washed away the simple concern; life.
after several hours of aggressive sailing, vomiting, hoping for the horizon
the captain shouted. this ship will sink, will be swallowed by the sand.
those angry waves of blue were too mad for our small ship filled with large hearts and many many many people.
urgency was the note
worry was the beat
panic was the harmony
and his deep voice was the melody of the song he sang to us,
merely passengers needing home
needing peace
needing comfort
and now needing life jackets.
screams
cries
sobs
and more screams soon filled my ears as i elbowed past babies and fathers and teenagers and grandmothers
searching for my three-year old brother.
Hussein.
I screamed his name
Hussein
I cried out for the boy that deserved so much but had received so little
Hussein
bodies and coats and water and white blocked my view
Hussein!
I could not find him, where was he?
i could not find him
i could not find him
this is my fault
i need to protect him
I CAN’T FIND HIM.
and that’s when I saw.
his body.
beautiful
pale
blue lips and small hands
open eyes that wished for the life they never got to have.
he floated gently between waves
his coat unzipped and the one shoe he wore weighing him down.
my voice
gone.
my eyes
tears.
my heart
broken.
to put that kind of pain into words would be impossible.
i jumped into the water
cold seeped through to my bones the moment i touched with this sea of death.
i pulled his body with me and swam
i did not know where i was going
but i swam and swam and swam.
i did not care if i died for at least i could die with my brother.
my eyes began to close
my heart began to slow
my mouth filled with something salty.
as i opened my eyes, i lay in a small bed.
a Greek man had saved me, you see.
I made it to Samos
a place of life jackets and hopeful people.
I am grateful to the man who saved me.
when I asked about my brother’s body
no one had an answer.
the waves took him from me
pulled his body and three years of life
down to the sand
to lay there
forever.
he is eternal to me, just as the waves are eternal to this earth.
to me, waves will always be death.
but to him, they will be his last sight of this world and his last breath, and his home.