The War Within by Rosanne Hawke

Author:Rosanne Hawke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Pakistan;Afghanistan;Beyond Borders;borderland;Rosanne Hawke;Australia;third world;third culture;asylum;war
Publisher: Rhiza Press
Published: 2016-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

16

Jasper

Jasper wasted no time in thinking of a plan. He was sure he could get the girls out of the house at night. Sonya and Jaime looked much alike; Liana was taller and thinner, but he thought his plan would work. It was once they were outside the walls that the problems would begin. He decided a stroll in the bazaar might produce a few more ideas.

The village bazaar reminded him of the old parts of Peshawar with its noise and crowdedness. Little dingy shops sold almost everything from bicycle parts to eggs and buffalo milk. There wasn’t as much food available as in the Peshawar shops, though, and in this bazaar, more space seemed to be given to copies of foreign weapons than to the staples of life. He watched the men making little round balls of dough in the hot tandoor shop and recognised the same kind of wheat bag that had been in the van all those weeks ago when they’d first arrived.

Next door was the hakim’s surgery. Jasper hoped he never had to visit such a man. Half-baked doctors, they were called in Pakistan, giving out folk remedies that often didn’t work when surgery would have been a better option. When all else failed, words from the Qur’an were written on little pieces of paper and put in a taveez, a type of locket around the patient’s neck. Sometimes the paper was crushed up and swallowed.

A chai vendor offered Jasper a cup of his best. Jasper took in the rough-hewn tables filled with dented samovars and blue enamel teapots, and the shelves of little chipped teacups, upside down to dry. Men were already sitting on the raised carpeted platforms that took the place of Western tables, sipping chai and good-naturedly arguing. He liked teashops and their ‘matey’ atmosphere, and accepted thankfully, wondering if anyone knew who he was. The village wasn’t so big that the men wouldn’t notice a new face. He imagined they thought he was a guest of the Kumars. If only they knew.

He felt the tea seller’s curious gaze on him but Jasper didn’t want to tell anyone his fears, in case everyone supported whatever the commander did. He’d heard of villages just like this one where the khan or commander’s word was law. Here, too, loyalty to Kumar seemed evident; he was what the American media would have called a war lord, yet Jasper hadn’t heard a bad comment about him or his family in all the time he’d been there. It made him feel so alone, as though everything was closing in on him like dungeon walls in a video game. How could he possibly organise an escape? No one would be sympathetic.

He wandered on and paused at the opening to a primitive factory. Rows of young boys and a few older men sat on benches tying knots at the back of rugs stretched on huge wooden looms. Curious, yet knowing the answer, Jasper asked the nearest boy what he was making.

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