Coming Home - By Arta Rexhepi

 Arta Rexhepi - Halifax

As my father closed the gate to our home, he was as pale as a lemon. My siblings, my friends and I were playing in our yard. My grandmother was on the porch knitting while my grandfather watered the plants in our garden.

“We have been given an ultimatum to leave by five in the morning,” he said in Albanian. “Pack lightly. We don't know how far we have to walk. This is not a false alarm.”

The day turned grey. Our simple town became a place of panic. We had been evacuated once before but were told to return home. Around us, people said goodbye to their friends, cousins and teachers. Mothers rushed to the convenience store to pick up what was left of its supplies. Men at the curbside offered assistance to others in need. Farmers said their goodbyes to their barns and livestock.

I wondered what would happen to us, our homes, our friends? My friend Burim, a great soccer player who lost mobility in his legs due to a sudden illness, didn't have a wheelchair. How would he run?

We were up before sunrise. The adults hadn't slept. But they hadn’t been sleeping well for months, always on the lookout for a military ambush of our town. The war in Kosovo was deadly, and we had been waiting our turn.

We packed clothes, food and any medication. I put on my favourite new shoes that would flee with me. My shoes smelled fresh like mint, just like our home and vegetable garden. They were practical and comfortable, white running shoes, perfect for the unknown journey ahead.

We were a big family. My parents, their six children, my uncle, his wife and son, three seniors and we had only one car. Some of my family ended up bundling with others.

The military showed up at 5 a.m. to evacuate families from their homes. Traffic lines were massive. My mother warned us not to look back, but we did. As we drove past our home, we saw it go up in flames. During our evacuation, we saw the military beat the imam of our town and other men.

We drove our car to a dumping area near Macedonia, where cars would be turned in and burned. We walked several kilometres to the Macedonian border with thousands of other evacuees. Some had walked for days. Children and mothers were crying for the family members they had lost, some killed, some missing. Many had no drinking water or food. Only small groups at a time were allowed to cross the border. We slept there waiting for our turn. At least my shoes kept my feet comfortable and free from swelling.

 “We won’t be separated,” my mother said as she glared at the soldiers who had pointed an automatic gun at her. She squeezed my shoulder. They let us go.

We spent the next month in the refugee camp in Stankovec, Macedonia, sleeping out in the rain until a tent became available. Access to water and medication was difficult. When my younger siblings became ill, my father applied for us to come to Canada as refugees.

When we arrived in Canada, health regulations meant we had to give up all of our clothing. I had to give up my shoes. They were dirty and didn’t smell like mint anymore, but they were all I had left of me. I watched them being thrown into a bin. But we were safe in this new country, far away from home and war. I thought it was only temporary, but twenty years later, I am still here. A proud Canadian citizen and a mother of three boys who are also proud to call Canada home.

Arta Rexhepi came to Canada twenty years ago with her family fleeing war-torn Kosovo. She has lived in Nova Scotia ever since and is the mother of three boys. Arta is a graduate of the NSCC Broadcast Journalism program and loves to write.

http://www.govier.com/shoe-story-mar-8-2020-halifax-Coming-Home.htm

The Shoe Project - Katherine Govier

Katherine has published 10 novels, 3 short story collections and 2 anthologies of travel writing. She has won the City of Toronto Book Award and the Marian Engel Award. She is a Distinguished Alumna of The University of Alberta, one of York University’s “Famous Fifty” alumni, and this spring is being recognized by the Canadian Civil Liberties Association for Excellence in the Arts.

Katherine’s novel CREATION, about John James Audubon, was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. Her novel THE GHOST BRUSH has been published in the United States, France, Spain, Romania, Latvia, and Japan.  Her most recent novel is THE THREE SISTERS BAR AND HOTEL, set in the fictional town of Gateway, on the eastern slopes of the Rockies.

Katherine was born in Edmonton and grew up in Edmonton and Calgary, skiing and hiking around Banff. She now divides her time between Toronto and Canmore, with her husband Nick and two grown children.  She has been President of PEN Canada and Chair of the Writers’ Trust.  She directs The Shoe Project, a nation-wide writing workshop for refugee and immigrant writers in which they write about the shoes that symbolize their journey to Canada.