Sahat KulaAugust 6, 2019 in Montenegro ⋅ ⛅ 26 °C
I was standing below Sahat Kula - Clock Tower - looking at the blue sky and my heart was racing like insane, it felt something was gonna happen. What? When? I didn't know... Sitting on a balcony of a hostel I was staying at, at night, two European-looking guys in front of me were murmuring something to each other... I struggled to hear what kind of language was that? It was soft, very melodic and yet I had same feeling as a few hours before that, below Clock Tower. I switched to Arabic:
- Where are you from, guys?
- From Syria
- I've just come from there!
- Really? Where have you been?
- Only Damascus this time
We kept chatting... Where my Arabic was not enough, and the guys didn't speak English, we resorted to Google Translator. They were from Aleppo, city that now is one huge scar, bleeding scar. They were in Damascus when there was an operation in Aleppo and all their families vanished in a blink of an eye - brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers. They were left alone in this big world, no one waited for them back in Aleppo, even walls were not there anymore. They decided to make their way to Europe, by land, to better life, life with no pain, yet in the land they will never be able to call home. City of Jasmin was left behind, in sweet dreams, and Aleppo still comes to them in occasional nightmares. You don't want to know how they travel and cross the borders, but I can say - these two lads have more courage and bravery, love and kindness, than many of those people that live in the place they are heading to. Best of luck, Jamal, we will meet again, and most likely it will be Syria. At least, I hope so. I do hopeRead more