Comments on Taking a page from the London Storytelling Challenge

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Well you will have to wait for mine Ciel, I do try wearily to do things, but I have felt tired lately. I think it is the change of life , the second one. it prepares one for the final run before settling down with a gleam in ones eye.       

posted by C_C_T on April 28, 2014 at 12:15 PM | link to this | reply

Re: Re: My story: IMMIGRANT

Pat, no it was off the top of my head, actually. And somewhere in the hundreds of words, maybe half way through, my original notion completely changed!

 

posted by Ciel on April 21, 2014 at 8:19 AM | link to this | reply

Re: Re: My story: IMMIGRANT

I had not planned on reading it on youtube. Maybe I will ask Charlie about the how-to--but then everyone will have to do that, too!

 

posted by Ciel on April 21, 2014 at 7:45 AM | link to this | reply

I have just found this it is very interesting. I liked yours Kabu, very much.

 

posted by Justi on April 20, 2014 at 10:23 PM | link to this | reply

Re: My story: IMMIGRANT

I like this.  It started me thinking (again) about my immigrant grandparents.  Are you going to read it to us in a video on youtube.  I would love to hear your voice.

posted by TAPS. on April 20, 2014 at 8:45 PM | link to this | reply

Re: Kabu

Until I got down to the name Wiley, two-thirds of the way down, I thought I was reading what Ciel wrote.  LOL

posted by TAPS. on April 20, 2014 at 8:41 PM | link to this | reply

At the end of the flight back to Australia this year I really felt the pain. I believe that even my finger nails were hurting. As the plane came in over the sea to land in Sydney I felt both excitement and trepidation. Was the day coming when I could not fly any more? I packed up my on flight neck pillow and wrap around blanket and looked helpless little old Lady enough for a taller person to lift down my over head luggage.

Oh what relief, to be standing up, moving my legs one in front of the other, yes the line is moving, yes i will be out of plane prison soo, Yes, I will smell the dear odors of Home again.

Now for the horrors of immigration and baggage collection and damn. I bought a little wood gift in the duty free shop in Vancouver. I have declared it so I expect that they will go through my luggage...Damn!!!

Duty free! It is my BIL's birthday today and he and Sis have come a three hour drive to pick me up from the airport. I buy a good Bottle of Australian Champagne and keep walking.

Immigration!! There are hundreds of people lined up, some sent straight to quarantine, others waiting patiently the lines hardly moving. I walk straight to where it announces Australian Passport holders only and make my way to one of the electronic machines that people are still avoiding or so it seemed. Place my Passport in correctly, wait a few seconds for it to process, collect the card it spits out  and head for the next step. I insert that card into another machine, my photograph is taken while I stand still, the card disappears, the gate opens. Immigration over with. 30 seconds I am thinking as I look back yes smugly at the aliens wanting to enter now left behind.

 Baggage collection...goodness me there is my very small bag. I am travelling with two small bags because I cannot lift heavy any more. I grab a cart, place my bags onto it and head for the next step. People are lined up very deep to place their luggage into XRay machines. Some folks are being taken off into interview rooms. I show my entry card to an official pointing out that I bought a wooden object in duty free in Vancouver. He is nice, he takes my card and waves me on.

Suddenly I feel exhausted. I slept on the trip but not easy or deep and I miss Wiely all the time. It seems as though the trip has caught up with me. I am looking for the exit but I don't see it.

Some official comes over to me and asks if I am looking for where I need to put my luggage through the X-Ray and I sort of see him in a dream.

" No," I say. "I need the exit I am already processed." He takes my arm and leads me over to the exit. I should say something nice to him but I cannot think.

Another man comes over to see why this woman is just standing not moving, staring at his co-worker.

"Everything alright here?" His voice jolts me back to reality.

"Yes, " I say. "This kind official has just helping me to find the exit. After twenty four hours on the airplane I am not sure if I am coming or going, upright or about to go to sleep."

I hear male giggling as I go through to meet Sis and BIL who will be waiting for me to come through those doors. Well at least I brightened up the day for those guys and now, the adventure begins.

the end....Kabu.

ooops I went over the allotted word number.

posted by Kabu on April 20, 2014 at 7:20 PM | link to this | reply

Re: My story: IMMIGRANT

Nice. Especially nice if true.

posted by Pat_B on April 20, 2014 at 2:50 PM | link to this | reply

My story: IMMIGRANT

I was the first to come over the sea, to abandon the hills and stones of home, to give them up for a new world.  The New World, it's always called, and tales are told of dark red, dark-eyed, black haired people who do not welcome us all that much, who would rather we didn't and hadn't. Well, the Europeans had come anyway, and filled the lands with their own kind, their own customs and sense of what's right and proper, and what must be altered accordingly. I knew when I got there that it would be all right, folk like me would be there to welcome me and keep me safe until I got my feet under me well and good.

It was not as I expected.

First off, I was informed in no uncertain terms that I was not indeed their kind of folk, and was not welcome, and would never be safe so long as I tried to push in where I was not wanted. Not wanted to live in their houses, their neighborhoods; not wanted to take the jobs they wanted; not wanted to smile at their pretty girls. 

Well, I took off west, though warned by all and sundry that those lands were wild, still ranged by the Red Indians, dangerous to life and sanity!  Europeans who went yonder to farm pelts and such, they went mad and hairy, dirty beyond dainty description...  No civilization would I find in those distant lands! Better to... Why not just go home?

Sure, indeed: home to where the men and women and babies were starving, where the crops rotted to black slime in the fields, and every mouth was a burden on all the others... No, I'd left home for a reason, not just to invade the shores of The New World, not just to have their houses and jobs and pretty girls!

I went west, working my way on a flat-bottomed boat as an oarman. I left behind the cities that were just learning how to belch smokes and fumes into the sky, and worked my way a stroke at a time into the clean country. No houses there, to keep the rain off, but the rain was clean.

I left the boat when it no longer was going where I wanted to go, and with my earnings, got some supplies and a little mare, and she carried me for miles on into The New World. Peggy and me, we went towards the slow-growing mountains in the west, and a day came when we woke in the morning to find ourselves encircled by dark red men on tall spotted horses. Well, by three of them. I made corn porridge for us all, and then they took me home, where their folk welcomed me, and made room for me in their cone-tents. They liked the songs I sang them, and sang back with their own.

There was no need to go further.

posted by Ciel on April 20, 2014 at 9:37 AM | link to this | reply

Re: CCT,

Here is your fourth-coming reply, as this is your fourth comment...  Now, where is your story?  Wait.. where it mine...?  Must be around someplace...

 

posted by Ciel on April 20, 2014 at 9:12 AM | link to this | reply

Well at least I can post on here, but no reply is forth coming.    

posted by C_C_T on April 19, 2014 at 11:38 PM | link to this | reply

Well I have a job to post anything so I am in limbo.

posted by C_C_T on April 19, 2014 at 12:08 PM | link to this | reply

Well that did not go down very well Ciel perhaps we are all too old to do this sort of thing in two days. I don't think many visit this section.

posted by C_C_T on April 18, 2014 at 11:56 PM | link to this | reply

I feel a bit sea sicky so I will let our resident tall story teller beat her drum. Or better still the lady who came up with the idea. I think I have a headache.

 

posted by C_C_T on April 18, 2014 at 11:03 AM | link to this | reply

I will be thinking about it.

posted by FormerStudentIntern on April 16, 2014 at 4:59 PM | link to this | reply

I have an idea but keep reminding me...it is a long way to Sunday.

posted by Kabu on April 16, 2014 at 12:27 PM | link to this | reply