Thomas’ blue eyes Today I am very tired but, however, I really want to direct this documentary; I’m very curious about this country, I want to get know it depth and analysis its issues better. Yesterday, together with my crew, I flew to Tirana The alarm clock goes off. Today I’ll have to go to the capital’s north-east neighbourhood, to an orphanage, to hear about some of the stories of the orphans. After about an hour I get there and was welcomed by the orphanage manager who invites me inside to do my job at ease. As soon as I reach the courtyard, the children notice me immediately, maybe because I’m a novelty to them. In a few seconds I’m surrounded by a crowd of vociferating children attracted by everything I’m wearing, my jacket, my bag, my camera… I see the joy and carefreeness typical of their tender age into their eyes, regardless of their condition of poverty and abandonment. Each one of them have a story to tell and a life that, even if it is short, a lot to learn from and a lot to think about. In that multitude of eyes as bright as stars, I’m captured by those of a particular child, as intensely blue as a summer sky. And the tiny black dots of his pupils get lost into all that blue, so that not even the greatest artist’s mind could have achieved clearly such a wonderful picture. It’s impossible not to be fascinated by that disarming look. After a few minutes, I see him by himself and I manage to get closer to ask him some questions. “What’s your name?” I ask him. “Thomas” he answers, a bit embarrassed and defensively. “How old are you?” “ “Ten” he answers. “How do you feel in the house you live in?” “This isn’t my house” he states with unexpected assuredness. I ask him: “Do you remember something of your family?” “I remember my mother’s voice. I remember when she sang me to sleep, but I’m starting to forget her face. I never met my father, but I know he’s an hero, he left 1

when I was very young, he couldn’t stay with me because he has to save people but, I’m sure that he’ll come and take me and we’ll live together. “ I smiled to him and said goodbye. In my heart I’m sure that he doesn’t know the truth about his family very well, neither he nor the other children at the orphanage, so, after chatting a bit with some of them, I interviewed the school’s principal who only tells me cruel, painful stories. Having collected what I need and taken some pictures, I say goodbye to the principal and leave the orphanage. Talking to these children saddened me and taught me so much. Tired, but happy with my day, I go back to my hotel. Tomorrow I’ll go around the city’s streets with my crew, to document the reality of children compelled to live among delinquency and poverty. The following day we could only approach some children but, anyway, we collected some significant images and, returned home, the documentary was very appreciated by everybody. Since then I try to see my life from a different point of view, I believe in myself, I’m aware and motivated. This job allows me to grow, to get to know others but above all myself, because to see, watch and listen is like reflecting oneself in a mirror. *** Some years later, returning with my husband from our summer holidays on the Greek coast, I decided to go back to Albania, to recover life’s reality among the alleys described in the past by my reportage. The city showed a lot of changes, but surely its decay problems hadn’t been controlled in a significant way. We get to the city centre, by no means similar to the outskirts: streets are filled with tall buildings and large shops. Suddenly, in the midst of the uproar of car horns and the hum of the pedestrian crowd, a familiar detail fascinates me, like the first time: the same eyes standing out in the face of the child from the orphanage I visited some years before, now belong to a sad, discouraged boy, sitting on the roadside, lost in his thoughts. I get closer to him until he notices me. He raises his eyes, two blue eyes sparkle in the sunshine, but they have lost the carefreeness and joy of that time. His face is as dirty as if he had dived into soot. I remember his name well. “Hello, Thomas, do you remember me?” He recognised me at once, incredibly he hadn’t forgotten me. 2

I really wanted to talk to him, so I began: “It’s some time since we last saw each other… How come your face is so dirty? What happened to you since we last met?” After a moment’s wait he starts to tell me: “Now I’m thirteen. Many things changed since the last time we met. Sometime after your visit, the orphanage manager had to send away many children like me because there was no room for the younger ones who arrived. I went back to my birthplace, to look for news about my family and I found out that my father had abandoned me in my mother’s arms since I was born.” He stops for a moment, a tear falls from his eye and he starts to talk again: “Then I met many orphans who live on the street like me. One day, a gentleman took us in, telling us that we would have lived happily together like a real family.” Impressed by how quickly he had grown up, I clasp him and he melts down in tears of happiness that seem endless. We say goodbye again and I leave him my phone number. In the distance I see Thomas getting into a white van waiting for him on the roadside. *** “0044-2023641083 – Emily Taylor”. I clutch this number in my hands. I always bring it with me. “What could you take in town today?” Abbah shouts, his hands on the steering wheel. He promised us a big surprise. Every day we have to search the town and get something to take home. The more things we get, the more points we collect, getting us nearer to the big surprise. We must ask people for money, we must steal the fruit and bread that we manage to take from the market stalls. There are three of us, I, Milos and Jada. They’re a year older than me. Milos, the brightest of the two, answers: “Today we found almost nothing, only a banana and a piece of bread.” “How’s that you couldn’t take anything else? If you go on like this, you can forget about the surprise” shouts Abbah, pounding his hands on the steering wheel in a menacing tone. Suddenly there is silence. They look at me, as if to say it’s all my fault because we were with Emily.

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Abbah is certain that we are distancing ourselves from our goal, because we haven’t been able to get him much for three days. This must not demoralize us, but we must start working again like before, we must take our surprise back! *** It’s been twenty days since Emily said goodbye to me for the last time. Jada and Milos are as certain as I am that we’ll make it. We are a team linked by a strong harmony. The friendship that binds us together is growing stronger and stronger. But thinking is very bad for us. Our work doesn’t give the same results as before. What Abbah asks us to do is very difficult, but I’m sure it will take us to a great goal. We eat what we manage to take in town in the morning. Abbah looks at us as if to demonstrate that it’s just our fault. Sitting at the table with us, he looks straight into our eyes and exclaims: “You aren’t what you used to be. I should let you go, but I’ll give one more chance to take the game in your hands again.” It’s six in the morning. Abbah calls us to get dressed and get in the van. In ten minutes we are, like every morning, on the road to Tirana’s city centre. We must find more than usual, today we must take home many more points than what we had done previously! Actually the day is poorer than we foresaw. Abbah’s reaction is terrible. We had never seen him so furious. We are afraid of what he can do and we start to think that there will never be a surprise. His phone rings. Abbah answers: “Hi Nicolas” From the other side of the telephone, Nicolas: “Tomorrow there will be the great crossing, we’re leaving from Durrës at six. I’ll wait for you and your boys.” He answers: “I’m sorry. They didn’t deserve any surprise. They lost. They’ll stay here with me.” We don’t know where to go, but in the great silence we heard everything they said, we know that tomorrow a big boat will reach Italy. “I heard that a lot of people leaves from the port of Durrës for Italy.” whispers Milos to me. So that same night we decided to run away.

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Hidden in a bus, we get to Durrës after travelling for an hour. Arrived at the port, we waited until the following day. The boats don’t leave until the afternoon. Then we are on a big boat. Hundreds of people crammed in a limited space. Stifling air. Women breastfeeding their babies and men crammed in every corner. All of a sudden, in the pitch dark some shouts come from the bottom of the ship. The engine is turned off, we don’t move. The air is cool and, in spite of the fog, you can glimpse a well-lighted portion of beach. We aren’t very far from the beach. “We’re almost there” whispers Jada with his heart in his throat. “But why are they diving into the sea? It’s very cold and it’s also too rough to swim right now!” We hear the shouts getting nearer and nearer to us. A man arrives and shouts to us “Get off the boat now! Quick” “We can’t swim!” answers Milos. We can’t even speak before finding ourselves into the sea waves. I shouted my friends’ names with all my strength but I couldn’t hear their voices. All of a sudden Milos’s voice begs for my help. I manage to reach him just before the waves swallow him up. We call out for Jada for a long time but we don’t hear his voice. With our tears mingling with seawater we muster up and we manage to get to the coast with difficulty. Chilled and trembling, as from habit, I put my hands into my pockets but they were all wet and cold. In my hands there is the piece of paper with Emily’s number. It’s illegible. Washed by the sea, the numbers have disappeared and, with them, our hopes.

Based on the photo by the Italian photographer Matteo Setzu

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