Welcome to my story. This is a university project which is based on the saying that the enemy of the good is the perfect. I normally write stories that languish on my lap top because I think they need more work. My challenge for the project is to draw an image and write a chapter a week and post it no matter what. I have written for work for years but I am trying to move into fiction. I always loved drawing but never did it because I thought I wasn’t good enough, but now I want to do it no matter what. As they say, if you love something and can’t do it well, then love doing it badly! And the beauty of digital is you can go back and edit. All comments and feedback welcome and I hope you enjoy my story. Thanks for reading.
The Wind That Slices
In the mountainous regions of the North, so the legend goes, parents warn their children to beware of the sickle weasels. These mystical creatures ride the swirling freezing whirlwinds of this frozen region with claws as strong as steel and as sharp as razors, fur as spiny as a hedgehog, and a bark like a dog. They move so quickly that they are invisible to the naked eye, and they come and go on the wind.
The tales say that they travel and attack in threes – striking out at people from thin air. The first slices at the victim’s legs, knocking him to the ground. The second one uses its fore and hind legs to slice the victim with thousands of wicked cuts. And the third? He applies a magical salve which seals the wounds instantly so that none prove fatal. It is said that they strike with such precision that the victims can lose chunks of flesh without even a drop of blood spilled. The attack and the healing happen so fast that the victim doesn’t even perceive them; he merely trips and gets up with a bit of pain and a few scratches here and there. Or so they think. But over time, the victim slowly fades away. The wound may have been sealed but it never heals.
But this is just a fable, a story, a myth, to scare naughty children and foolish people. Although my children, the wind that slices does indeed exist. But it is not a weasel, it is not the wind, it is a who. And someone is seeking this wind and wishes to summon them. And once they are summoned, there is no escaping them, for who among us can turn the wind?
We got musical and/or dance, and this is what we came up with. Not bad for first-timers! We won our heat but didn’t make it to the finals. However, it was a great crew and we had a lot of fun making it.
It is with huge dismay that I have just read the refugee services team at the Mangere Resettlement Centre is being disbanded and the services contracted out to the private sector. My experience at Mangere was life-changing for me and woke me up to the huge challenges refugees face and how their fate is so reliant on the mercy of others. The Mangere team were fantastic – they had an in-depth understanding of the cultural, social and economic issues facing refugees as they started life in a new country. It involved a number of groups all working together to help the refugees adjust to a new home. This is the worst possible decision and will result a huge loss of institutional knowledge and the destruction of a dedicated and compassionate team. Below is the blog I wrote of my experience at the time – humans beings should not be reduced to cost centres!
For the last six weeks, I have been working on a project for Immigration New Zealand putting together an event to mark World Refugee Day on June 20th. This has involved reading many stories by former refugees of how they came to be refugees and what that life entailed. The stories had a common thread; no-one chooses to be a refugee and everyone longs go home. But for most, it is impossible. War, famine, crime, and corruption have driven them out and a refugee camp is their only hope. And often, only the very lucky have made it that far, with many falling on the road. I didn’t read one story where I wasn’t crying by the end. A twist of fate, and a life is overturned. It takes courage to leave your home, even when there is no alternative, and it takes luck and resilience to reach safety. Millions languish in refugees camps throughout the world, and all they want is a chance to start living their lives.
The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) cares for about 36.4 million people with about 10.4 million holding refugee status worldwide. Only about 1 per cent get resettled, with New Zealand taking a quote of 750 a year. It is even more disheartening to realise that it is simply man’s inhumanity to man that creates refugees. Persecution and war drive people to flee and to seek a decent life, and we should help them if we can with compassion and understanding. The UNHCR has an excellent site, so if you do nothing else, make the effort to read the stories and learn more about what it is to be a refugee. As Eli Wiesel wrote, the opposite of love is not hate, it is indifference.
I seem to favour animal super-heroes. I’m not sure why, but they are often more witty and charming than their human counterparts. At first I was leaning towards Danger Mouse (DM to his friends). Great accent, eyepatch and Penfold, his very cute hamster side- kick, but he is really a secret agent with no powers. And of course there is Dynamo Duck, who is simply irresistible. I mean he is cute and fluffy and drives a teeny Ferrari, but he is also not a super hero as such either. So, it has to be Harvey Birdman, Attorney at law, who is human even though he has wings. He is a great super hero at so many levels. Environmentally friendly – powered by the sun – and he has wings! Who doesn’t want to have their own set of wings? He shows initiative. When the superhero business hit a slump, he retrained as an attorney and even helps out his old cartoon friends when they get on the wrong side of the law – what’s not to admire?
I don’t like high places but have no idea why – how did this fear evolve? I like Douglas Adam’s explanation best – although this theory could also apply to relationships…
“I’ve heard an idea proposed, I’ve no idea how seriously, to account for the sensation of vertigo. It’s an idea that I instinctively like and it goes like this. The dizzy sensation we experience when standing in high places is not simply a fear of falling. It’s often the case that the only thing likely to make us fall is the actual dizziness itself, so it is, at best, an extremely irrational, even self-fulfilling fear. However, in the distant past of our evolutionary journey toward our current state, we lived in trees. We leapt from tree to tree. There are even those who speculate that we may have something birdlike in our ancestral line. In which case, there may be some part of our mind that, when confronted with a void, expects to be able to leap out into it and even urges us to do so. So what you end up with is a conflict between a primitive, atavistic part of your mind which is saying “Jump!” and the more modern, rational part of your mind which is saying, “For Christ’s sake, don’t!” In fact, vertigo is explained by some not as the fear of falling, but as the temptation to jump!”