Category: Stories From Home

Some family stories are so dark that it takes more than one generation for them to come to light. I must have been about 25 years old when I first told this story to somebody outside my family. In fact, I didn’t think I could talk about it until I listened to my colleague’s story about her grandmother’s survival in the death camp. Then I decided that my family story should be told too.

At the beginning of the 20th century, my family peacefully lived in Poland. During WWI, their city was conquered by the Russian Empire. In 1925 my family was exiled to a labor camp in Siberia. The name of the camp was Krasnoturansk. You did not have to do something wrong in these times to be sent to a labor camp. It was a terrible time. My great-grandparents ought to have been paying more attention to politics, but they were good, hard-working people who didn’t think they needed to be afraid. My family should have run away to Paris or something, but they couldn’t organize it quickly with 12 kids.

All their property was taken away from them. They were called “Vrag Naroda” (the enemy of the nation). They were lucky not to be killed. After that, they were transported on farmer carts to Siberia. I don’t know exactly, but after my research, I suppose what happened next: When my family arrived at the camp, it was an uninhabited place with only a wild forest around. At first, my family might have slept on the ground. My great-grandfather, Mark, was supposed to build a house from the surrounding trees. Mark was tall (6’6”) and extremely strong. He was able to raise the trunk of a huge tree alone, put it on his shoulder, and go. Not everyone survived. They were in this hell for 25 long years.

After her release, my grandmother was banned from the possibility of learning in college and living in big cities, especially near Moscow. All of the babies of my grandmother died, except my mom. She grew up as a very vulnerable child and suffered from heart disease from her childhood. My mom spent her childhood nights listening to people being shot in Siberian city Abakan. It was very dangerous for her to have kids, but she believed that she should have a daughter. I was born in Siberia. My mom was an incredibly beautiful, intelligent, and talented person. She could have been a fashion designer or rocket scientist, but she died prematurely.

I am the first in my family who learned in college. I am the first who left Russia. I got my Ph.D. when I was 22 years old.  I gave birth to six kids. My kids don’t know the Russian language, but they know about the crimes against humanity that Russia has committed. It is my family’s “reverse:”  I reversed the destruction of my family. Now I am 46 years old. I am sitting and writing in English (that is hard and confusing) because I am not going to give up as my great-grandparents didn’t.

I know my father is still here.
Always here, like the wind.
I can not see him, but I can feel him.
He is feeling what I feel, seeing what I see.
He knows I am missing him on this special day.
You see, the wind brings his message to me.

From my wise father, I learned that the most important thing in life is to cherish the time you can spend with the one you love. Someone once asked my father, “Why did you spoil your daughter, whose destiny is to marry and leave your family?” I clearly remember my father’s answer: “Because I cherish the days that I can spend with her, not the days she would go to college, not the days she would leave home to go to other places to chase her dream, not the days she would marry someone she loves. I just cherish the present day when she is beside me.

My father was my best friend. I could tell my father anything, unlike other teenage girls. I once told my father that someone expressed his love to me. His answer was “I am so sure there will be someone who likes you, loves you, because my daughter is so beautiful, so sweet, so wonderful. Remember you are always worthy to be loved.”

My father always tried his best to get what I wanted, what was good for me. My father always cooked the best food for us. The best food I ever had was on a dark, cold, and windy winter night. I was a teenager and I could eat a horse. Just because I wanted to eat more vegetables, he, like a superhero, ran to the garden at night to get some. Vegetables are still my favorite.

There were a few words he wrote before he left this world:
“My daughter, I had never wished for you to become someone who is defined by wealth. What I can only give you is your life. My wish for you is to be someone who’s simply happy.
You don’t need to try to become someone who is special, because you are already special.
You don’t need to try to do everything perfectly, because you are perfect the way you are.
You don’t need to try to impress anyone. Just be yourself, love yourself, respect yourself, be confident, be strong, and be happy.“

Yes, father. That’s who I am.

My beloved father left the world 18 years ago. I still remember his words, his smiles, his love. He has never left me.
There are a lot of things I want to do with my father, but maybe in another world.

Can I make some suggestions? On this father’s day:

Please:
-visit your father if he is reachable;
-draw him a card if he is able to see;
-read him a book if he is able to hear;
-hold his hand to go for a walk if he can make it;
-take some fancy pictures with him if he’d like;
-take him to dinner, or make one with him if he enjoys it;
-watch a movie with him, or take him to get a massage;
-buy him a pair of good shoes or some nice clothes;
-sing a song, do a dance together, and make him laugh like a kid;
-tell him you love him, not just in written messages, but in words;
-give him a kiss on his hand, forehead, or silver hair;
-give him a bear hug, and tell him “You are the best!”
-make today special to him, and make today the best memory for him, just like he did when you were little.

Let him have these memories, and then the days won’t be so hard when you are not around – when he misses you.

Eh Htoo 5 December 2018

Living in a poor refugee camp produces difficulties, and it is hard to develop a good community. People have little knowledge to share with each other. I lived in a Thailand refugee camp from 1999 until 2016, but I did not see the living condition change much. However, there can be great and fun times in the refugee camp even though people have to go through problems. People who live in refugee camps have little education, the risk of fire, and the risk of fatal illnesses.

First, in a refugee camp, it is rare to know people who have completed education in my community. As a result, they have to work harder than people who have an ability to read and write. For example, my neighbor who lived close to me had a big family, but only two people had studied because the rest of the family had to work for living. As a result, a big family has more difficulties than a small family. Also, in the camp there were only a few teachers who had enough experience to teach at school because most of them only finished the twelfth grade. Because the few teachers there had little experience, sometimes students got little knowledge from them. My neighbor said that it was not common to see people teach because they got low income support. For example, most teachers who teach in the refugee camp received only 1200 baht in Thai currency, which is $40 a month. The difficulties of the refugee people are hard to believe for some people.

Next, living in a poor building in the refugee camp will cause a risk of fires that some people have not experienced before. In the Thai refugee camp, the buildings are made of wood, bamboo, and dry leaves. Therefore, people have to be aware of fire because refugees cook with dry wood and charcoal. I remember that when I was studying in grade eleven or twelve between 2010 and 2013, the refugees had to face a huge fire in the camp. I believe that around 150 houses caught on fire. When the houses caught on fire, students who had been taking an exam had to run home to help fight the big fire, and the teachers also ran to stop the fire. Furthermore, I remember that some students took water bags, sand bags, and long bamboo sticks to fight the fire. It was hard to call firefighters because the refugee camp was far from town. However, I saw a firefighter who came after the fire had calmed down because he had to drive at least one hour and 45 minutes to arrive in the camp. Later, I heard from my teachers said that a group of donors from a grouped named the UNHRC (United Nations Human Rights Council) came to help households that had difficulties for living. However, some neighbors from houses that did not burn and I helped people with some food as much as we could. Actually, we did not have a lot of food, but we cooked some rice and pumpkin with egg curry to share with them. This is such a sad story in the refugee camp.

Most importantly, living in a refugee camp will have some problems like some diseases that make people sick until some people die in the community. At first, because of few jobs, most people go outside of the camp to work, so they can make some extra income for living. Most refugees worked on the Thailand and Burma border, which had a lot of land for farmers’ crops. When people went to work outside and came back to the camp, they brought different kinds of diseases. For example, some diseases like malaria, diarrhea, and HIV were common illnesses that refugee people brought into the camp. Some diseases like diarrhea and malaria can be cured, but HIV is hard to cure. Even though malaria and diarrhea can be cured by a doctor, sometimes these illnesses can kill sick people who do not receive the doctor’s help or medicine on time.
I got malaria one time when I was seventeen years old because I went to the Thailand-Burma border where my parents used to work on a farm. As I learned in a health science class in high school, if mosquitos bite people, and people drink dirty water from a mosquito’s birth place, people can contract malaria. When I had the sickness, I had a headache, and my body was so feverish until my lips were dry. As a result, I had to take medicine for one week, and I am lucky that I did not go through a more terrible condition. However, my cousin who works at the hospital said that many people had died because of malaria and diarrhea.
In conclusion, less education, risk of fire, and some illnesses kill many people in refugee camps. When I remember the place where I grew up with difficulties, it is sometimes hard to talk about it out loud, and it is hard to share with other people. The difficulties will not only happen in my refugee community; in other countries they will have same problem like we do. If some people have never been to a refugee camp before, they should visit that poor place and gain a new experience in new place. Especially, some people who study history should go visit many refugee camps, and they should make some interesting notes to show in the future.