‘Displaced’ – such a harmless, totally painless term. Safely tucked away behind this word are millions of repeated stories of uncountable separations from homes, land, family and friends. Manifold stories of uprootings which means moving to a relative or neighbour, dwelling in the shells of destroyed buildings or, ultimately, fleeing across borders to unknown places.
Whatever it is people carry along, it needs to take roots and give comfort at some other place so that you can recover with its familiar taste.
Mentha suaveolens (apple-mint)
A picture of what I left behind pops into my mind and stays there, sending circular waves of feelings. A leaf of apple-scented mint in a warm terracotta container, with some dry crumbs of root web which probably a bird has been pecking up. In the early hours of the morning I sit down with a plastic cup of tea which is strongly sweetened, exactly the way it should be. The children are still asleep in the dorm.