A refugee


“It is 3:23 in the morning”. This is how one of my poems starts. It is about loneliness and feeling emotionally cold. I wrote it about two years ago, but tonight I can’t sleep and my mind runs unintentionally into its verses. I’m in the role of refugee.

I’ve moved to Dubai more than a year ago. My husband works there. I’ve been to Middle East few times before, so I knew what to expect. I am a spiritual person, a philanthropist and I was pretty sure that my inner world sets the pace for my happiness; that this is going to be just another life experience and nothing will restrict my personal freedom.

But later I realized that I live somewhere I don’t belong. Intentionally I choose a superficial example: because of extreme hot weather, I can’t walk the streets, there’s simply no cold fresh air, sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe. I know that I won’t stay here forever. I am free to RETURN HOME anytime. And today I’m so scared of the fact that RETURN HOME is just a luxurious dream for millions of people on this planet.

I am also scared because my own dreams are fading away. Dreams about returning home to my beautiful Slovakia, dreams about walking barefoot in the grass, drinking fresh water from the tap, speaking my mother tongue again…these dreams fade away because of one world: HATE. I still can’t believe that back home, I will meet people who hate other people so much, wishing them death.

Nowadays, this is the hot topic, never-ending discussion in Europe and in my home country. I’m not able to provide a long term solution; these few words of mine are meant to lead to a small experiment. Look out of your home window please and imagine that this is the last time in your life that you see your familiar surroundings. Do not think about it as “I’m just moving to another place because of the new job” or “no worries I will return here one day”. Imagine that most probably you will never see your home again. You will have no chance to show your favorite places to your kids, no chance to meet your neighbors and childhood friends again. The bomb just explodes next to your house. This time you survived, but sooner or later you realize you need to run away. Pack all your life to a small bag and set up for a run full of terror, suffering and humiliation.

So how do you feel? Let’s be more specific:

What clothes would you choose for your kids? What shoes to wear?

Would you be able to sleep the night before your run away?

Don’t you feel that pressure and pain in your chest from all that risk?

How does it feel to be a “Nowhere man”?

Anyway, what can you pack from your entire lifetime to one simple travel bag?

One friend of mine visited the refugee camp in Traiskirchen, Austria, few days ago. She brought there some clothes, hygienic supplies, toys for kids. At least some basic things these people couldn’t fit in their bags while rushing away from their homes. Doing so she also brought hope and sign of humanity…  As I said before, my blog isn’t here to provide any long term solution to the huge problem of migration in Europe. It is here to inspire to help, to provide immediate help these people need right now. Because if it rains today, you don’t think about tomorrows rain or what will be the weather like next week. You just take an umbrella and go out, that’s an easy and simple help to your immediate problem.

The autumn is here soon. People who were forced to leave their homes with only few bags will feel the cold very soon. Not just the colds of autumn, but also that “personal” cold, like the one in my poem. So if you can help, do it now please.


(Photo by Wanda Adamik Hrycova, who inspired me to write this blog)