Runners Up

Crossing Continents

 

The scent of spices hit me like a powerful wave. Loud music seeped into my ears from within the crowd. I was at the Notting Hill carnival for the first time. I still remembered when me and my mother first stepped down from the huge boat that had brought us here. Grimacing, I remembered the churning of the froth-tipped waves far below and the queasy feeling that I got every time the boat rocked. Dizzy with seasickness, I had almost fallen down the stairs. My head had lurched, and it felt had felt weird not to be rocking. Oh, and then there were the rats.

There, I saw my first white person. He had helped us down from the ship. He smiled at us, but from the way he smiled, I don’t think that he was pleased to see us. Suddenly, I had heard someone calling my name. My mother and I had turned around in surprise. My father stood there.

Journeying to England from Jamaica had been difficult. My father had got on a different ship, but luckily, we had found each other.

My mother had heard of this festival, and we had come here hoping for some Jamaican traditions and food. The sharp smell of the spices made my nostrils tingle. It was all so familiar, including the loud, pounding drums that were slowly making their way towards us.

The sound of the drums was coming from a huge carriage roughly made of wood and structured a bit like a small double decker bus – I had seen those for the first time a few days ago. The people on the carriage were singing and dancing with the crowd and wore some amazing costumes. Their costumes were very colourful and highly decorated. There was a woman with a bright green and blue dress. It had feathers that protruded from the back and were at least a metre long. She looked a bit like a peacock, and she paraded her costume with pride, shouting lines from traditional Jamaican songs.

There were stalls with Caribbean food, like Baigan Choka (roasted eggplant), spicy jerky (one of my favourites) and Sancocho. We bought some jerky and an amazing pineapple drink that we found. The drink was the most perfect shade of amber, and we drank it out of a pineapple cut in half. It tasted like pineapples combined with the sea, I thought. It was frothy like the sea.

Everyone was shouting or singing, and some people had party poppers and chemicals in a tiny white ball which made a loud ‘BANG!’ when thrown on the ground. It seemed that everyone was trying to make as much noise as possible.

After our meal and drink, we danced to some of the songs and sang along to the parts that we knew. It was a little strange to have reminders of home while in an unfamiliar country.

Ava Guan, 11.

Ali's Quest

 

Thump! Crash! “sounds like mum and dad are getting the spare room ready again” thought Isaac. “I wonder who will be coming to stay this time?”

Isaac’s family offered the spare room to people seeking asylum who had nowhere else to stay. Over the years they'd had people from lots of countries and Isaac always enjoyed meeting them, learning words in their language or even trying some of their food. “So who’s coming this time, Dad?” asked Isaac.

Ali from Syria arrived just in time for tea the next day. He didn’t say much at first but then he spotted dad’s piano. ‘Please could I play it?’ he asked. ‘of course,’ said Dad.

And that was the beginning of getting to know Ali much better. It turned out he used to be a music teacher, just like Dad! Even stranger, his son was called Isaaq, which is the same as Isaac but in Arabic! Ali hadn’t seen his wife Sara or Isaaq for three years. Just before the war started in their country, they had enough money for two plane tickets to Britain so they decided Sara and Isaaq would leave first and Ali would join them later. Unfortunately Ali got called up to the army and it was another three years before he could escape in the back of a lorry, all the way through Turkey and across Europe. The journey took a whole month and was very dangerous. Now he needed to find Sara and Isaaq but how? He hadn’t heard from them for so long and didn’t even know if they’d made it to Britain safely.

A week later, Ali came home looking hopeful. ‘I’ve met a man who was helped by the Red Cross to find his family’ he said. ‘He gave me some forms to fill in. Will you help me?’

Shortly after, a woman from the Red Cross came. She spent a long time listening to Ali’s story and getting a good description of Sara and Isaaq. She did warn everyone that finding people after so long is difficult but miracles can happen! Sure enough, a few days later she phoned Dad. ‘I might have found them!’ she said. ‘But I don’t want to get Ali’s hopes up if it’s not them, so I need to make some more enquiries’

It felt like ages but at last there was another phone call. “It’s them!” she said and soon Ali and Sara were talking excitedly on the phone! Sara and Isaaq were living in Glasgow and Isaaq was in year 5 at school.

Mum and Dad invited Sara and Isaaq to come and stay so they could all be reunited.

Sara cooked everyone a celebration Syrian meal while Isaaq and Isaac played Minecraft together. Later Ali played some Syrian tunes on the piano, while Dad did his best to strum along on his guitar. Even though they were from completely different countries they had a lot in common, not just their names!

Isaac Rossell, 9.

Leah's story

 

“Leah, have you finished packing yet? It’s nearly time to go,” called her mother from the bottom of the stairs. “Nearly”, Leah lied. Hastily, Leah shut the lid of her lip balm. She had been so busy making sure she looked nice that she’d forgotten the time.

She stuffed the rest of her belongings into her suitcase. Even though she’d never been to Kenya, she thought that the people there who spoke a different language and were from Africa would learn a lot from her. She grabbed her suitcase, dashed down the stairs and jumped into the waiting taxi. In that very moment, she felt ready for anything.

The plane journey was long as they crossed continents into Africa (8 hours in fact) followed by two taxi drives. Finally, Leah and her family slumbered off to their rooms in their new house to have a rest. She heard no more until BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Leah slapped her alarm.

It was her first official day in Kenya and her first day in school and she was ready to show everyone how much she knew and where she had come from. At school, the headmistress showed Leah and her parents around the school before taking them to Leah’s new classroom just in time for break. After hugging and kissing her parents, Leah ran off confidently towards the children to try to make friends.

“I’m reading the 7th Harry Potter book”, she said proudly, thinking this was impressive for an 8 year old. “Ah yes, but can you read it in Kiswahili?” responded a cheeky looking boy. “Er, no” she mumbled, turning scarlet.

Classes started and Leah was surprised that they took place in an outdoor classroom. “I wonder if they have writing paper”, she thought naively, wondering if they would write on the ground. The teacher distributed tablets. They learned about tsunamis in Asia and the children even interviewed one teacher in the school who had been in Sri Lanka during the disaster. “This is amazing”, thought Leah as she started to think her experiences were a little small in comparison.

Next came lunch break. After a surprisingly delicious meal of ugali, meat and chapattis, Leah wandered off to find someone to play with. All her classmates were high up in a tree that she could barely see the top of. She tried to climb it but did not have any grip so slipped landing on her bottom. Expecting everyone to laugh, two boys instead pulled her up and asked if she was ok. She had the best time high up in the trees as she admired the view and could spot the Columbus monkeys jumping from branch to branch. In that moment, she admitted that she was not the best at everything as she had thought. In fact, she knew she had lots to learn. She was glad that she would be accompanied by the most wonderful friends and was excited about her adventures to come.

Leah Ngoga, 8.

Rain

 

Rain. Everywhere there were puddles reflecting the grey sky like silver mirrors. Rubica, who shivered in her thin cardigan, stepped carefully off the plane with her special teddy named Rose. After travelling for almost nine hours, her legs wobbled a bit. Rubica never thought England would be so different to India.

Already she missed the smell of India: sweet gulab jamins, creamy curd rice and spicy onion bhajis. Her Grandma, always wearing a saree the colour of bright jalebis, used to brush and plait her hair in different ways. Rubica even missed the patterns on her front door.

However, Rubica knew she would miss the beautiful, vibrant garden the most. The ruby-coloured roses blossoming in the heat of the sun and the spiral stairs that led to the top of the house. Rubica would miss being on that roof and looking down at the bustling farm, knowing that was her home.

As Rubica and her parents hurried to collect their suitcases, she imagined what her new home would be like. Would the house be warm? Would there be trees growing in the garden? Would she make lots of friend there too? As she walked to her new life, Rubica knew she had India in her heart always.

Srinika Injeti, 8.