for me to view as a non Muslim.
After everyone was fed the bride was getting ready to leave, for some unknown reasons women would cry at weddings.
The bride and her mother were both crying as the girl was leaving her parent’s house for the last time and to start her own life with her husband.
It was a simple wedding not too extravagant or elaborate but colourful and practical according to their beliefs.
Shortly afterwards, Ismael, Harun and I left to catch the last ferry home, after shaking hands with Maymun’s family.
When we arrived on the other side and got to Ismael’s house, it began to rain heavily and he told me to spend the night with them.
I slept in a spare room and under a mosquito net, next morning after breakfast I went back home to check on my poultry.
My final week at home, I spent tidying the yard and selling whatever I could, the chickens and ducks were all sold except Mister Pip the turkey.
He was given to my father as a present so I kept him as a pet. He would make a lot of noise whenever strangers came to the yard, he was like a guard dog.
I fed him on seeds, grains of rice, and chopped fish, I was handing him over to uncle Yunus.
By Friday morning he would be gone, along with my suitcase and personal documents to the Baccus’s house.
I would be spending that night with my new family as we were due to leave for the Airport at 5am the next day, a journey of 3hours and 30 minutes our flight was at 12.30pm on Saturday.
On Wednesday of that week, I went to Blairmont Estate to see for myself what a logy looked like out of sheer curiosity.
After I made a few enquiries I was told where I could find a whole community that lived together in these logy.
I saw some children playing in the courtyard and asked if their mother was at home, two of the children held my hand and took me to see their mother.
She was a beautiful young woman about 20 years old with long black hair; she was wearing a red and white floral dress that had a rip at the waist line.
She kept her black hair tied together with the same material from the dress she was wearing.
I asked her politely if I could look at her living quarters and she said, “Yes, come in,” I had to lower my head to get inside.
It was tidy, the floor was covered with card board, and beneath that was sand.
I looked around the small space which she shared with her husband and two young children.
A small wooden bed was in one corner with some clothes hanging on the wall that divided their living space from the next family, and a few basic essentials in card board boxes hidden under the bed.
I got upset and walked out to where she was waiting outside holding the hands of her two sons.
I took all the money from my pocket and handed it over to her, and told her to buy food and clothes for the children and herself.
She thanked me and at the same time she was trying to kiss my hand and was bowing to me like their god.
I told her not to do that and stopped her, and then she asked me if the manager from the estate had sent me.
I told her no and walked out into the court-yard almost in tears and left in a hurry.
As soon as I got back on the main road I got on my bicycle and rode away in case she called out to her neighbours and told them some young idiot was giving away money.
She might as well make use of it; I would not have any use for my country currency in America.
When I got home I kept thinking of my great grand-mother’s situation, she once lived in a similar place like that.
I felt her pain even though I had not seen her and we would never meet in this life.
The old lady had told me that Allah [God] had already written our destiny and now we must live it; good or bad that comes our way.
She had reiterated that Karma was a heap of nonsense, and I totally agreed with her.
On Friday morning when I woke up, I cleaned out the upstairs and covered all the furniture and bolted all the windows from inside top and bottom.
I was not going to sleep
After everyone was fed the bride was getting ready to leave, for some unknown reasons women would cry at weddings.
The bride and her mother were both crying as the girl was leaving her parent’s house for the last time and to start her own life with her husband.
It was a simple wedding not too extravagant or elaborate but colourful and practical according to their beliefs.
Shortly afterwards, Ismael, Harun and I left to catch the last ferry home, after shaking hands with Maymun’s family.
When we arrived on the other side and got to Ismael’s house, it began to rain heavily and he told me to spend the night with them.
I slept in a spare room and under a mosquito net, next morning after breakfast I went back home to check on my poultry.
My final week at home, I spent tidying the yard and selling whatever I could, the chickens and ducks were all sold except Mister Pip the turkey.
He was given to my father as a present so I kept him as a pet. He would make a lot of noise whenever strangers came to the yard, he was like a guard dog.
I fed him on seeds, grains of rice, and chopped fish, I was handing him over to uncle Yunus.
By Friday morning he would be gone, along with my suitcase and personal documents to the Baccus’s house.
I would be spending that night with my new family as we were due to leave for the Airport at 5am the next day, a journey of 3hours and 30 minutes our flight was at 12.30pm on Saturday.
On Wednesday of that week, I went to Blairmont Estate to see for myself what a logy looked like out of sheer curiosity.
After I made a few enquiries I was told where I could find a whole community that lived together in these logy.
I saw some children playing in the courtyard and asked if their mother was at home, two of the children held my hand and took me to see their mother.
She was a beautiful young woman about 20 years old with long black hair; she was wearing a red and white floral dress that had a rip at the waist line.
She kept her black hair tied together with the same material from the dress she was wearing.
I asked her politely if I could look at her living quarters and she said, “Yes, come in,” I had to lower my head to get inside.
It was tidy, the floor was covered with card board, and beneath that was sand.
I looked around the small space which she shared with her husband and two young children.
A small wooden bed was in one corner with some clothes hanging on the wall that divided their living space from the next family, and a few basic essentials in card board boxes hidden under the bed.
I got upset and walked out to where she was waiting outside holding the hands of her two sons.
I took all the money from my pocket and handed it over to her, and told her to buy food and clothes for the children and herself.
She thanked me and at the same time she was trying to kiss my hand and was bowing to me like their god.
I told her not to do that and stopped her, and then she asked me if the manager from the estate had sent me.
I told her no and walked out into the court-yard almost in tears and left in a hurry.
As soon as I got back on the main road I got on my bicycle and rode away in case she called out to her neighbours and told them some young idiot was giving away money.
She might as well make use of it; I would not have any use for my country currency in America.
When I got home I kept thinking of my great grand-mother’s situation, she once lived in a similar place like that.
I felt her pain even though I had not seen her and we would never meet in this life.
The old lady had told me that Allah [God] had already written our destiny and now we must live it; good or bad that comes our way.
She had reiterated that Karma was a heap of nonsense, and I totally agreed with her.
On Friday morning when I woke up, I cleaned out the upstairs and covered all the furniture and bolted all the windows from inside top and bottom.
I was not going to sleep
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